#and that’s when Hannibal discovers he’s a bottom

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

15 and 20 with Eddie Brock/Venom please!

.⋆｡At Last｡⋆.

Eddie Brock/Venom x plus size reader

A quiet weekend in the mountains with your boyfriends is just what you all needed (and totally wasn’t because you’re on the run from the law)

Warnings: reader is a bit of a brat, mentions of getting shot at and abusive parents, past murder, fluff, implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Celebration

Peace to Eddie Brock seemed to be an entirely foreign concept. His whole life was one shit storm after another, there had never been a moment of calm between his abusive father, his struggles in school, the endless fight between him and his bosses, the breakup with Annie, and then discovering Venom. He supposed he chased the chaos, needing that dose of adrenaline and fear in his blood to remind him that he was still alive and fighting.

But the second that you came crashing into his life (quite literally too, you hit Venom with your car), all he had known was that he could finally breathe. You pulled him from the fire countless times and this weekend was yet another one of those times.

Eddie had begun to get lazy in controlling Venom, letting him do what he pleased during nights when Eddie simply couldn’t be bothered to even wake up to go on patrol with him. And as a result of that, Venom accidentally ate the head of the leader of the most powerful gang in San Francisco so the three of you had to lay low for a while. Using the last of your savings, you bought a shitty cabin in the Rocky Mountains and settled there with your boys.

The whole day had been spent in silence but it was far from uncomfortable, for you at least. Venom and Eddie currently weren’t talking to each other though both seemed adamant that they stay close to you as the sun began to set over the mountains and the chill started to creep in through the poor insulation. 

Eddie’s head rested on your chest, his thick arms wrapped around your waist as Venom had nuzzled into your neck, purring happily every time you gave him a small peck between his huge milky eyes. Your nails trailed up and down Eddie’s bare back, tracing every imperfection on his skin, slowly easing the stress from his body.

All he could hear was the steady beat of your heart beneath his ear. Eddie smiled softly, rubbing the tip of his nose between your breasts. You giggled at the feeling and dug your nails into the small pudge of fat at his hips. “What’s got you so affectionate, Brock?”

“Jus happy.” He muttered, squeezing your waist even tighter than before. Venom nodded against your skin in agreement.

He is right nibble, we are very happy. 

“So you guys are finally done with the silent treatment to each other?” 

“No.” No. You raised an eyebrow at your partners to which Venom chose to continue speaking. We just love you, that is all we agree on. You rolled your eyes at them.

“Are you sure you’re both not just sucking up to me because you think I’m mad about having to quit my job and go on the lam?” Venom growled at that, making the entire bed rumble with the force of it as Eddie felt his blood pressure start to rise. Yet, no part of him felt that usual tensing of his muscles or pounding in his ears that usually came with anger, just a buzzing in his veins that only appeared in your presence. 

You said you weren’t mad. Venom pouted, making you coo at him.

“Aww baby, I’m not, I promise. I just like teasing you both.” The chill in the room didn’t stop Eddie from sitting up between your plump legs, the thick duvet that had been covering you both falling away. Your eyes, though they still sparkled with mischief, grew darker as you looked at the half naked man currently towering over you. He smirked when your gaze dropped to the old sweatpants that sat low on his hips.

Venom slid back into Eddie but you knew he was lurking below the surface, waiting to strike. “Do you now?” You captured your bottom lip between your teeth, barely managing to suppress a whine at the deep timbre of his voice.

“Well, I think it’s only fair. We’re in the middle of nowhere and you didn’t let me keep my phone. I have to entertain myself somehow.” Eddie’s muscles rippled as he leaned forwards, pushing your soft body into the mattress, keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted to.

We can smell her. Venom purred in Eddie’s mind. “Yeah buddy we can.” He agreed, taking in a deep breath and letting the thick scent of your arousal wash over them. 

“The last time you two had a secret conversation in front of me, it led to me getting shot at.” You snapped though there was no bite in your tone. Eddie groaned under his breath and rested more of his weight onto you.

He gripped one of your thighs tight enough to bruise as he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. “Oh you’re getting pregnant tonight. Fucking brat.” You shuddered beneath him.

“You’re all talk.” Venom snarled and a black tendril shot out from Eddie’s side, wrapping tightly around your wrists, pinning them to the bed above you. 

“Try us.” Their voices moulded together and you smirked. 

At last, Eddie Brock had his peace.

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Eddie Brock

@getoutofthere

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hello,

could I request a Hannibal one-shot, where he and fem!reader have been busy with work and he is really needy.He comes back from and just sneaks up to the reader, just planning on kissing her, but soon discovers how much his body missed her.(nsfw?)Sorry,if this is weird

Hannibal X Reader: Cravings

Warnings: smut, hanjdob, blowjob, teasing, dirty talks, gn reader, female anatomy, male anatomy, penetration (p in v), domish reader (if you squint), no use of y/n, doggy stlye, not proofread.

Word count: 1,3 K

Your scent hits him the moment he walks through the door. It doesn’t matter how many times he feels it he will never grow tired of your smell. He moved towards you in large steps, his eyes softening once he saw you staring at his bookcase. You haven’t realized he’s home yet and even though he doesn’t want to scare you he can’t seem to get your name to leave his lips. Instead he stalks over to you in silence.

You feel his hand wrapping around your waist. You know it's him instantly due to the feeling of his lips on your neck.

“Hello handsome.”

The pet name makes Hannibal's ears grow pink. He nudges your neck with his nose nuzzling your skin. There had been no ulterior motives for his caresses, he merely missed being near you, but before he could stop himself his hips bucked forward. He could feel his hard on pressing against your ass a small whine leaving his lips.

You move your head to the side allowing him to kiss your lips. You nip at his bottom lip a small grin making its way to your face at the groan Hannibal lets out. He’s usually not like this. He loves touching you but it’s normally in a more restrained manner. The only times he gets this touchy is when he’s needy for you. You’d been busy with word the last few days causing you to have many late nights and consequently spend less time in Hannibal's arms. It was only a matter of time before he became restless for your touch and it seemed the time had arrived.

You turned around,maneuvering your body so that you could face him. His pupils were extremely dilated revealing his need for you.

“What's wrong baby?”

You caressed his cheek, your nails scraping against the skin. Hannibal closed his eyes, sighing at the feeling of your hand on his body. His hips buck forward causing you to shift your attention to his groin. A lazy smile spreads across your face as you take in the outline of Hannibal's desire for you. 

“Is someone needy?”

All Hannibal could do was nod as your hand moved to palm his dick through his pants. Hannibal was usually seen as a composed individual but when he was with you all his walls seemed to come down leaving him completely pliable. He was puddy in your hands and you adored it. Hannibal groaned as your hand came into contact with his bulge.

“This hard already? I’ve barely touched your love.”

“I can’t help it. I need you.”

“Oh my poor baby. Have I not been giving you enough attention?”

Hannibal gazed at you pleadingly.

“Let's fix that shall we? Go sit on the couch.”

Hannibal rushed to do as you asked, his body relaxing into the couch as he watched you. You strode over to him slowly reveling in the way he licked his lips as he observed you. Once you were close enough you sank to your knees crawling the rest of your way to Hannibal in all fours. You ought the way his hips bucked up at the sight of you making you smirk. You placed your palms on Hannibal's thighs leaning over so that you could blow some air onto Hannibal's clothed dick. He hissed as you inched your hands closer and closer to his dick. You unzipped his pants, your hand moving into his briefs. The moment your hand came in contact with Hannibal's dick he couldn’t help but moan.

“My, my, aren't we pent up? Don’t worry baby, I'll help you out okay?”

You tugged his briefs down allowing his dick to spring free. You watched it bob for a moment before shifting your body closer. Your hand moved to stroke Hannibal's dick making him throw his head back. You observed his chest heath as your finger circled the head, collecting his precum on your thumb. There were beads of sweat on Hannibal's neck, the heat of you near him becoming almost unbearable. He thought he’d have to beg you to give him what he wanted but before he even had the time to form the words you’d taken him in your mouth. The sound that left his lips was otherworldly. His hands moved to your head, guiding your movements. You bobbed your head up and down, allowing Hannibal to tug at your hair every once in a while. You’d never grow tired of the sounds that escaped Hannibal's lips as you pleasure him. Your hands grip onto his thighs as he ruts up into your throat, the action causing you to gag a bit.

“Fuck-ah ugh-feels so good.”

Hannibal isn’t always super vocal but when he’s needy for you it seems something snaps inside him and the words just start to spill out.

“Perfect so-shit- perfect darling.”

You hum him a small thanks, the action causing small vibrations to Hannibal's dick and consequently making groans. You can tell he’s getting closer to his release so you double your efforts. You move your head faster, your hand moving to wrap around the base of his dick. The other hand moved to his balls caressing them gently.  It doesn't take long before Hannibal is seeing white. You feel his seed fill your mouth as he cums. His body shakes as he continues to spill into your eager mouth. You take it all without any complaints swallowing his seed with a smile.

“Come here.”

Hannibal tugs you up from the floor, pulling you onto his lap. His lips crash into your in a hungry kiss. Before you can even think properly Hannibal’s ripping your clothes off your body. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking purple bruises on your skin. All you can do is moan out his name as his hand finds your nipple, his fingers moving over the small bud. His other hand grips onto the flesh of your hips, fingers digging into the skin. You rock your body forward, subconsciously searching for some relief. To your surprise Hannibal is already hard beneath you. It always fascinated you how fast he was able to recover after coming.

“Need to be inside you.”

The words leave his lips as a growl. He isn’t asking you anymore. He’s telling you. 

“Okay. How do you want me?”

Hannibal thinks for a moment. 

“Get on the couch. On all fours.”

You nod, moving to climb on his lap. Hannibal watched you crawl onto the sofa moving to position yourself as he had wanted. He placed his knee on the couch tugging your body closer to his. A small gasp left your lips as you felt his dick nudge against your pussy. Your hands latched onto the edge of the couch as Hannibal started to enter you. Your breath got caught in your throat, only being released once Hannibal had fully interred you. He waited for you to ocustum to the size of him for a moment before beginning to move against you. Your body jolted forward as Hannibal began to pick up the pace. His hand found its way into your hair, tugging at it forcefully. You let out a loud moan, your body lifting a bit from the sofa. Your nails dig into the material of the couch as your mouth falls open. You can hear Hannibal's grunt behind you. His hand moved over your back, tracing your spine as he continues to fuck you dumb. You lean your head onto the couch.

“Ah Hannibal, I'm close.”

“You gonna cum for me huh?”

“Yes-fuck-right there!”

He’s almost reaching the edge with you all he needs is to hear you moan out his name as you gush on his dick. Hannibal reached over your body, his hand moving over your stomach towards your pussy. Once he finds your clit he zeros into it, his fingers moving over the bud until you cumming.

“Hannibal!”

Your voice sends him over the edge, his hips continuing to rut into yours as he spills his seed into you. His need for you seems to have been quenched for now. But it won't be long before he’s craving you again. He’s always been insatiable when it comes to you. 

Not that you’re complaining.

[rustys-lodge]

Requested by @yourlocalratwriter : Could you please make a Hannibal x daughter reader(platonic) where his daughter has severe anger issues. Maybe like their having a outburst and yelling at him and doesn’t actually mean it? But they got Frustrated so they started yelling?

Warnings : anger issues, yelling by both parties.

A/n : ssso so sorry to answer this late, i finally have the courage to write again and i didnt wanna steal the plot or anythiing but at the same time i wanted to finally write thiiis ❤️

------

Hannibal, has welcomed you into his home. He cooks for you, helps you with your studies and even with your relationships with society and life. He would also like to help you with your room, but that, being your cocoon, is a restricted place for the meticulous Hannibal Lecter. That, until today.

--

You drag your feet through the mansion, tossing your bag on the nearest sofa as you headed for your room.

It had been a long day. A reeeeally long day. And frustration was irritating every part of your brain. Every inch of your body. You were definitely ready to melt into your mattress and fall asleep.

Yanking your bedroom door open, the scent of chemicals and artificial roses slaps your nostrils as you discover an orderly room. Not your room.

Your eyebrows knit together as you scan every inch of the space.

Disgusting. Tidy. Unlivable.

No more piles of clothes. No more stacked up papers. No more of those littles things you placed exactly in the right spot, exactly where you needed them.

Hannibal.

You march out of your room, each step growing louder and louder, fueling your anger. Until you reach the study.

You place your hand on the door handle, a thought comes to your mind.

You are not to come in without knocking on the door, y/n.

But you think again…Fuck him ?

You push the handle down, simultaneously pushing the door forward. There he is.

Your heart skips a beat.

Hannibal almost jolts up. For a split second, he's surprised. But as soon as his eyes land on your face, his body relaxes. And his features go back to being illegible. He watches you, his head slightly tilting to the side, waiting for an answer to a question he didn't need to ask.

"My room." You say.

"Yes ?" The doctor responds in an even simplistic manner. And it shakes sometimes in you.

"I told you not to touch my room." You keep your words to a minimum. As you were far far from calm, anymore anger and words were going to start spurting out of your mouth.

You wanted to avoid that.

"I organized everything accordingly. I d-"

What ?

His voice dies down as rage boils through your body. He's always trying to control everything. He cooks, he tells you what to do. When to do it. He chooses your meals for you. Who you're allowed to go out with. When to come home. Wait-so he read stuff, in order to organize it ?

"You read my stuff ?"

"That's not what i meant i-"

"Why would you do that, Hannibal." Your voice pierces through your own ears. You feel hot and your stomach is knotted up.

"Y/n, calm down."

"DONT TELL ME TO CALM FUCKING DOWN." Your body jolts in response, reaching your end point. "You're always trying to control everything. You fucking control freak" You accusingly point your finger at him. And your father stares in response.

He bites his bottom lip as his eyes rove from your reddened face to your finger, and back to your face. And slowly, he sets his hand on top of your finger, lowering it down forcingly. But you pulled away.

"Don't fucking touch m-"

"That's it." The man snaps, gripping your arm and dragging you over to the sofa, where he pushes you down. His grip is firm, but gentle. And before you have the time to move, he kneels down in front of you. "Now you're going to breat-you're going to breathe and I won't let you go until you do so."

Yours eyes meet his and your heart instantly slows down...But the overwhelming pain in your stomach doesn't die down. It lingers...

"Breathe, darling." Your father nods encouragingly as he awaits for you to obey. But you breathe heavily. Your voice sounded so hoarse and rough. You hated it. You didn't mean the words that just came out of your mouth. You didn't mean them. You just-Not sure-It just felt-

"It's okay, sweetheart, i know."

You shake your head as he nods No...No- He doesn't get it-he doesn't know. No-Y-

"I know you didn't mean what you said...It's okay."

You sniffle, a lump growing in your throat. "I'm sorry." It comes in a whisper.

"It's alright..Just breathe."

-----

Good reading, i hope. ❤❤❤🌹🌹🌹

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Wrapped Around Your Finger

Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Summary: Hannibal decides to switch things up a bit, relinquishing his power to you.

WC: 1.8k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ only, minors dni), light bondage, femdom-ish? (not really tho lmao), oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don't do it at home), that's all I can think about so lmk if I missed anything!

------

Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No.2 drifted out of the living room speakers. Outside, there was a thunderstorm, rain falling heavily and ceaselessly, the wind howling. There would be glimpses of lightning between the drapes, and you counted the seconds before the low growl of thunder would follow. 

There was a fire in the hearth – yes, a hearth! You were dating a very fancy guy , after all – crackling softly. The room smelled pleasantly of firewood and old books and him. You had a glass of white wine in one hand, your body loose and languid, warm all over. 

It was simply the perfect night to stay in.

You were slightly bent over, looking at a section of his book collection. Cookbooks were the vast majority, which wasn't surprising, but your interest was also piqued by tomes on art history, natural sciences, and even anatomy. 

You picked one up at random and leafed through it absently. Dr. Lecter -- as you sometimes still liked to refer to him -- was such an exciting man, knowledgeable on things that you had never even imagined. He had undoubtedly expanded your palate, but you had to admit he'd expanded your mind quite a lot too.

You wore no pants, only the shirt Hannibal had been wearing earlier, which just barely reached your knees. He was down to his briefs, lounging on a chaise and absolutely devouring you with his gaze.

"Are you going to read to me?" Hannibal asked, directing your attention back to him. 

Though his tone was teasing, he secretly wished that you would. He did love your mellifluous voice, especially when reciting sonnets. Or moaning his name to the wind, like a ravenous wolf called to the full moon.

You blushed, a bit timid that you'd been caught so utterly distracted. "Sorry, just poking around..."

He smiled, feeling a little smug. "Find anything interesting?"

“Hard not to.” You said, approaching and swinging one leg over him, straddling his hips. 

His free hand immediately came to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing fire on your skin. 

Your voice hitched as you added, “Y-you know, you can tell a lot about a man by what he has in his home.”

“Oh? And what have you discovered about me?”

You chuckled, setting down your glass. “You like to ask a lot of questions.” You leaned down to plant a kiss on his lips, adding, “And you like being in control.”

“I suppose I do,” he returned the kiss with fervor, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. You shuddered against him, and he pressed closer to you. 

“Oh, but that reminds me…” he continued, suddenly pulling away. “I’ll be right back.”

You plopped down on the chaise as he got up and headed down the hall to his bedroom. You watched his muscular back as he retreated, biting your lip. You felt a little lightheaded from the sudden influx of arousal, so you lay back, rubbing your thighs together. He always knew how to get you going, but he did have a bit of a tendency to be a tease. He wasn’t like Will, who loved getting straight to the point.

Not that you were complaining about either of them.

When Hannibal came back into the room, he handed you a black box. There was a piece of paper with your name on it on top, and you traced your fingers over his refined penmanship. Your eyes then widened, and you couldn’t help but panic a little bit at the prospect of forgetting something important. 

“A gift?” You squeaked.

“Of sorts,” he smirked, utterly devious.

“What for? Oh, Hannibal, you shouldn’t have.”

“Just open it, darling.”

So you did, sliding the top off to reveal the last thing you had expected – lengths of crimson-colored rope. Not just any rope either, but silk rope, the expensive-looking kind. You blinked, momentarily shocked, but when you looked up at him, his smirk had only grown.

“I thought we could do something fun– turn the tables a bit.” He purred, kneeling before you. “You have been such an angel with me, and perhaps it is time I surrendered to you.”

“And you want me to…” you trailed off, eyes flicking down to the ropes in your lap.

His eyes were a bewitching flame that kept you captivated. “Yes, sweetness. And perhaps next time, they can go on you. It’s only fair, you know?”

“Are you sure?” 

“One hundred percent.”

You smiled, all sharp teeth ready to sink into his divine flesh. You captured his lips in a fierce kiss, pressing yourself flush against him. You felt his teeth graze your lower lip, making heat pool in your belly.

When you pulled away, you tied his arms behind his back, one resting over the other. You figured you’d keep it simple tonight, even if you were already imagining all of the patterns you wanted to tie all over his body. You could make him into an utter masterpiece – not that he wasn’t already one.

You kissed his neck and up to the back of his ear, feeling his chest heaving against yours. 

“You okay?” You whispered against his skin, and he nodded.

Your eyes roamed over him, your hands soon following, sliding over the expanse of his chest. Up to his shoulders, down his arms. Then they stopped at the edge of his briefs, fingers teasing the elastic.

“This is all mine, isn’t it?” You said, biting your lip.

“Yes, my darling, all of me,” he breathed, and his breath hitched as your hand wandered lower, cupping his length over his briefs. “And what parts of you will you give to me?”

“The tastiest bits, of course,” you smiled, and his eyes mirrored the hunger you felt. “Stay on your knees for me, will you?”

Stepping back, you ever-so-slowly began to unbutton the shirt you wore. He was unable to tear his gaze away from you and all the skin you were revealing. You still had Will’s teeth marks on your inner thighs, now a faded pink and yellow. His eyes lingered on this detail, and he swallowed hard. 

You let the shirt fall off your body, pooling on the hardwood floor. Next, your thumbs hooked on the sides of your underwear, a little lacy black number you knew he loved. Your hips swayed as you pulled it down ever so slightly, looking coy as you teased him.

He strained against the ropes, wanting to touch you, to retaliate for this delicious torture you were making him go through. But he needed to be good, he reminded himself. He was rather enjoying how things were unfolding, after all. 

You felt a sudden thrill at watching him squirm, loving that you had such an effect on him. Your underwear also fell to the ground, and you approached him slowly, a mischievous glint in your eye. 

“So, would you like a taste?” You asked huskily.

In response, he eagerly leaned forward, which made you chuckle a little. You bent down until your lips were only a hair’s breadth apart, and you whispered, “Can you say please?”

“Please,” he breathed, and you pulled back a little as he tried to kiss you. “Please, I want to taste all of you.”

Satisfied, you planted a quick, chaste kiss on his lips before standing back up. You ran a hand through his hair, pulling his head back a little. Then, leaning on one of his shoulders, you draped your leg over his other shoulder, pulling him closer.

In the next moment, his face was buried in your cunt. He was absolutely ravenous, licking you with an almost trance-like gusto. He shifted against his bindings once more, wanting to add his hands into the mix, but to no avail. His frustration only fueled him on, and you dug your hands into his hair once more.

Arching your back, you completely lost yourself to the sensation, baring the column of your throat to the skies as your eyes fluttered closed.

“That’s it, right there,” you encouraged, words melting away into a moan.

You let out a shuddering breath as his tongue began to trace slow circles around your most sensitive spot. Then his teeth were then added into the equation, adding just enough pressure to make lightning bolts of pleasure shoot through you. Almost involuntarily, you began to rock your hips, seeking more, more, more.

Greedy thing, he thought to himself, both amused and absolutely bewitched. He hummed deeply in approval, and that coil in your stomach wound tightly, just on the brink of snapping.

“H-Hannibal,” you breathed, muscles tensing. “I-I’m gonna…”

With a keening wail, you stumbled over the edge, heat rippling throughout your body. Your legs turned to Jelly as you gripped his hair tighter, grinding your cunt against his face with wild abandon. He moaned deeply, utterly lost in the all-encompassing feeling of you. You panted, your movements slowing as you rode out the aftershocks, coming down from your high. 

You straightened, pulling your leg back and letting go of his hair. He smiled up at you beatifically, the lower half of his face glistening. He loved the sight of you trembling like that, face and chest flushed, eyes glassy with stars. How you would feign demureness after orgasm, as if ashamed to have displayed such carnality; Such wantonness. 

We are made of flesh and fault, he recalled you saying once. 

A moment later, when you were feeling much more merciful, you untied him and lightly massaged his arms. But he immediately descended upon you, kissing all over your body – adoring every inch of you. Your thighs gripped his hips, urging him closer, and he happily complied. When he sank into you, it felt like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together, where they belonged.

You clung to him, digging your nails into his biceps. Your eyes once more fluttered close, but he immediately said, “No. Look at me.”

You complied, gazing into those intense amber eyes of his. “Good girl,” he praised with a small smile, giving you a quick kiss. 

The words were like a flame licking over your skin. He could feel you clench around him, which elicited a low moan. He went harder, faster, his pace losing control. You could tell he was close, and you stretched up to kiss him, biting his bottom lip. His muscles tensed and he cursed under his breath, your name soon following. He reached his own climax, holding you close to him.

Then the two of you lie sprawled on the floor, breathing hard, limbs tangled. Your head lay on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. You kissed him on the ribs, right atop it, and sighed contentedly.

“So, about the next time we do this…” you trailed off, a playful edge to your tone.

He chuckled, stroking your hair. “Oh, you have no idea what I have in store for you.”

--------

[n3kk1tty]

Slasher Company AU

Shenanigans of Art the Clown: Office Shitter

This is an AU in which all Horror Movie villains / Slashers exist and work for one company.

Art the Clown is Banned from the main headquarters office but this man keeps getting in and not a single person can figure out how.

What they do know is Art is not a fan of Hannibal and makes it very known with his frequent vandalism of Hannibals office. It started with the clown destroying the whole room. Then it moved to him leaving dead things in there. It has escalated to Art going in there and shitting directly on Hannibals desk them smearing his shit everywhere and anywhere he can. Top to Bottom.

The clown has been doing it for months. Sometimes he's caught while he's doing it and sometimes he's caught after he's done it. In both instances damage can be minimized heavily by cleaning crews being called before Hannibal discovers it. What can't be solved is when no one catches it and Hannibal opens his office door to the shit-tastic parade of hate and defiance. Which usually leads to an all out war with the two repeatedly killing each other. Seeing as no one can truly die in the company it leads to wasted time and resources and the incidents are best avoided in general.

Solutions to Avoid future incidents: Have guards and 24/7 live video feed cameras on Hannibals office door at all time. Cleaning crews on stand by. ALWAYS

This AU is free for people to join in the discussion and make content for this world. Make Oc's, art, or ideas till your hearts content using #SlasherCo tag to keep all the content easy to follow on Tumblr. I'm excited to see what comes from this adventure.

[nastya-sokolova-2002]

A Meticulous Analysis of History.

106:Through meticulous analysis of history, I will find a way to make the people worship me. By studying the conquerors of days gone by, I'll discover the mistakes that made them go awry.

173-b:So that you can make the same mistakes if you just try!

106:By studying the past so carefully, I won't repeat the same mistakes of history.

173-b:You'll never make another mistake, you see, Cause you'll fall asleep from reading all that history.

106:Pay attention, Russell! When Cleopatra reigned as Queen, With Roman leaders she was often seen. But when she had no ruling friend, She found a poison snake to bite her in the end.

173-b:A bite down there I really wouldn't recommend.

106:I won't need world alliances, When I'm commanding everyone's appliances.

173-b:Oh, no, Larry, that would really smart, To be bitten on the bottom by a Cuisinart.

106:Hannibal, book confirms, Tried conquering Italy with pachyderms. Just why he failed, nobody tells, But he never could get past the Roman sentinels.

173-b:And he couldn't find his weapons in the peanut shells!

106:An elephant is not required, If I can use the media to be admired!

173-b:The TV viewers you'll delight, Unless the network puts your show on Sunday night.

106:Atilla was a mighty Hun, He ransacked Asia Minor just for fun. But when he got to Europe's banks, He was routed by an army of heroic Franks.

173-b:I like mine with sauerkraut and mustard, thanks.

106:Why pillage like a criminal? When I can send out messages subliminal!

173-b:Please send a message to that Hun, To see if he can pillage me a hot dog bun? Zort!

106:Caligula was no Boy Scout, He did things that we can't even talk about. The Romans knew he'd lost his head, When he filled a vacant Senate seat with Mr. Ed!

173-b:What's wrong with being friendly with a thoroughbred?

106:Why rule like such a reprobate? When I can put the world in a hypnotic state!

173-b:When everybody's in a trance, You can make the people do a chicken dance!

106:Russell, if you don't stop this foolishness I shall have to hurt you.

173-b:Okay.

106:In France, Napoleon Bonaparte, Thought beating Austria was very smart. But when he took on England too, He was beaten up by Wellington at Waterloo.

173-b:And now he's just a pastry filled with creamy goo.

106:Why conquer with depravity? I'll win the world by undermining gravity.

173-b:And even if your plan falls through, Maybe they will name a pastry after you. Waahahaha!

106:From Genghis Khan to Charlemagne, From Alexander down to Tamburlaine. I find a ruler's tragic flaw, And gain a little wisdom out of each faux pas.

173-b:Don't forget the former Governor of Arkansas!

106:That concludes my little rhyme, I hope this lesson wasn't just a waste of time.

173-b:Well, Larry, I've learned that one thing's true. Every one of them has failed, and so have you!

106:Thank you for that vote of confidence. Now, come, we must prepare for tomorrow night.

173-b:Why, what are we going to do tomorrow night? Sing a song about all the world's cheeses?

106:No, Russell, we shall try to take over the world. Through meticulous analysis of history!

[avegetariancannibal]

The talkative cannibutt

AU where Hannibal discovers that his asshole can talk. It’s like how dolphins use their blowholes to communicate with squeaks and chirps. Except his ass speaks English. And Lithuanian, probably. But it happens the first time after he meets Will. His ass starts making passes at Will.

(Picture is mostly unrelated)

[noxnephilim]

WHEN THEIR SO TELLS THEM THEY KNEW

A/n: i accidentally deleted the other,and if I slightly change something it's because I don't remember what I wrote on the other.

Ft. Asa Emory, Bo Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter,Jesse Cromeans,Vincent Sinclair

Let's face it,you weren't supposed to know. He spent years perfecting his crafted social persona,and yet you blew past those walls in mere seconds

Let's say you met Asa, just by looking at his eyes you read him like a book and you understood. He was the famed Collector.

Now,he discovered that years later after you got married. He found your sketch pad accidentally and found a note

Now he was curious,so he read that. To say he was left...stunned was something. And you managed to capture the reaction in a photo,great

Anyway,he approached you and asked you. How and since when did you know? He was a perfectionist,and no one, except Arkiin,but he dead now

"Asa,the eyes never lies,and I happen to know how to read yours". Oh really,did you now? But why didn't you.. " I'm not that innocent either,love. I'm not stupid enough to risk it".

You truly were something different,and for once he didn't mind it. He finally found his equal after all.

He thought he was smart and shit,and that's his plan was full proofed. And yet you figured out the secret the first time you set foot there.

But,you waited years to actually tell him. It was funny because his reaction went from cocky to confused to shocked and finally,to surprised

So,you had known all along and you played the part well,so much that he didn't notice? Gadamm y/n, he knew you were something else

But he needed to ask how you did that? Not like him or his brothers had left a giant sign telling you "Ambrose is a fucking nut place with living statues"

And,you didn't tell him. It was to be a secret until you died. *Snorts*

God luck darling,he WILL get to the bottom of this. "Y/n, I swear to God,you have to tell me now,or you ain't gonna like what imma do next"

He probably tickled you until you spilled your beans, probably.

Let's face it. He thought he was smart and shit,and he probably was,after all he fooled the FBI more than once,but he didn't know you were just like him

It happened the first time he offered you dinner,and you could already tell that the meat wasn't common. You also noticed how the organs and cut used matched those missing

And, yeah you practically solved a lot of cold case murders in just a few minutes. Seriously,Y/n, what are you?

Now, as for telling him...You busted him on the anniversary,cause you were waiting to wipe that smirk off his face

"Dear, next time choose another cut. This one was too fat to use. After all,this isn't some common meat that would pair well with fat"

Stunned. He stopped to look at you, while you continued to munch on some veggies. How?

"Cher,how long?" - " exactly 5 years, I figured it out the first time you invited me to dinner"

Well, his hubris may have made him a bit careless in the reading of the others. Cause he would have understood earlier if he wasn't so lost in your eyes

He was going to tell you this the first time you started dating,but he was puzzled. Why weren't you reacting?

"Oh I already knew,but it's okay". Wait, what? You already knew,how is that possible. He was making sure to cover his tracks so that the police wasn't going to bite his ass

Years later,when he thought back about it,he was still left baffled,how the hell did you knew? You weren't working for the cops,so you couldn't have had access to the files about the recent murders

"Jesse, I can hear you thinking from over here. Seriously,you thought I wouldn't know by that mask you wear around? It just screamed murderer"

Oh, and you had the gall to also laugh? He was going to punish you for this.

Poor Vincent here is shocked to see you down his basement. He wasn't gonna show you how the statues were done because he was scared

And yet you come down to tell him that one of his works had been damaged and that the person could be heard. You wanted to help him fix it

Legit a moment of confusion. The fuck you mean someone damaged the statue?

Second,why the hell aren't you running? He will sign to you that,cause he needs an answer sweetheart

Anyway,you told him that the first time you came Bo's act didn't exactly convince you,and then you saw the statues,and you know,you understood how the town worked

But you weren't concerned with that,you thought and still think it's cool. Yep, definitely not common,are you?

But please,for the love of God,next time don't give him an heart attack when he is working. He almost lost you to his carelessness

[eevee-of-rivia]

Halloween Party

Summary: Will convinces Hannibal to go with him to the FBI Halloween party, but at one condition

Featuring Policeman Will and Vampire Hannibal because man has long fangs that looks like vampire fangs.

Pairing:sub!Will x Dom!Hannibal

Word count: 3,5k

Warning: Smut under the cut (MDNI), anal sex, D/s tones, Dom Hannibal, sub WIll, anal fingering, choking, a little biting (in a kinky way), a bit of puppy play (Hannibal calling Will “puppy”), praise kink, Top Hannibal, bottom Will.

A.N: Hannibal and Will live together. Hannibal agreed to let Will’s dogs live with them.

Please reblogs and comment are very important so if you like the fic consider do one or both things! Thank you!

“I’m not overly fond of what you’re asking me, Will,” Hannibal told his boyfriend, who was facing his back while keeping to cook the dinner.

“Please Hannibal, we won’t stay long” Will pouted, trying to convince the man with a softer tone of his voice not gaining any results at all.

Seeing that the man in front of him was still clocking, ignoring him in favor of the meat he was cutting, the brunette decided to come closer to his boyfriend and to stop himself only when he was beside him.

Will looked at him with the best puppy eyes that he could ever make, trying to convince Hannibal again to accept his offer.

“Please Hannibal, I don’t want to go alone. There will be people and I don’t want to be alone. Besides, I’ll miss you if you don’t come with me” Will told Hannibal, once again trying to convince him to go with him to the Halloween party that the FBI had organized.

Hannibal looked for a few seconds at Will, enough to see that he was making his puppy eyes, before sighing a bit and focusing again his attention on the dish he was trying to prepare for dinner.

“I’ll go with you, but at one condition,” Hannibal told Will, making the brunette smile and kiss his cheek.

“Thank you so much, Hannibal, but what condition you’re talking about?” Will asked him, curious about what the man wanted him to do.

But, unfortunately for Will, Hannibal dismissed him only telling him that he will discover the day of the party what his condition is.

The brunette only nodded before telling Hannibal that he was going to take a shower before dinner, only receiving as an answer a soft “mh”.

A few days were passed and Will had just come back home from his Halloween costume shopping for him and Hannibal.

To tease him the brunette decided to buy for himself a policeman costume, handcuffs included, and for Hannibal, he bought a vampire costume.

He was trying his costume in the guest room, the door closed to not let his dogs come in and to have some privacy, when he heard his phone ring once, signaling him that someone had texted him.

Will ignored his phone and the fact that he received a text, preferring to concentrate on the policeman costume and on how it looked on him.

Only when he was satisfied with how the costume looked on him did he decide to check on his phone, seeing that Hannibal texted him.

‘Are you busy?’ it was what the text said.

‘Not at all, just trying my Halloween costume’ Will texted Hannibal back, patiently waiting for an answer.

He didn’t have to wait long because, after a few seconds, Hannibal texted him another message, asking him to show him the costume.

The man thought a bit about Hannibal’s request, deciding if he wanted to tease him a bit before walking back in front of the mirror and taking a photo that showed all of his body, and costume, but not his face.

Hannibal went silent for a few minutes, leaving Will with his thoughts.

“Maybe he doesn’t like it or maybe it just doesn’t look so good on me. Maybe I should have bought something different.” Were the thoughts that kept appearing in his mind.

The man was lost in his thoughts when his phone ringed, making the brunette jump a bit.

Will expected to find another message on his phone but what he found was an incoming call from Hannibal.

Curious about the reason for that call Will answered the phone.

“Hey Hannibal, aren’t you busy with work?” The brunette asked him.

“My next patient won’t be here until 30 minutes for now,” Hannibal told him, hearing the brunette softly hum.

“I have to say, Will, that costume suits you” Hannibal continued, complimenting his boyfriend and making him blush a bit.

He was happy to hear that, Hannibal’s silence from before made him a bit unsure of his choice about the costume but knowing that Hannibal liked how it looked on Will made him smile.

Deciding to tease him a bit, Will started to play with the handcuffs, making some metallic noises to catch Hannibal’s attention.

“You know Hannibal, the handcuffs aren’t fake. I asked a favor to a friend of mine” Will told him, grinning when he heard Hannibal growls a bit.

“Maybe we can have a little fun tonight” Will continued, happily acting a bit like a brat and teasing his boyfriend.

“Do you think that you’re in the position for teasing me?” Hannibal asked him, his tone now firm and low.

“Do I need to remember who is in charge, Will?” the man on the other side of the phone asked him, making Will squirm a bit.

“Maybe I do” the brunette purred in the phone, enjoying the little game he and Hannibal were playing.

“I’ll remember you who is in charge when I’ll come home tonight. I want to find you in the bedroom, naked and ready for me.

And remember, you’re not allowed to cum until I say so” Hannibal told him in an even lower tone before closing the call, leaving Will horny and excited for what will come for him that night.

*

It was Halloween night and both Will and Hannibal were preparing themselves for the Halloween party at the FBI.

Hannibal wasn’t really happy with the vampire costume that Will bought him, considering it a “cheap piece of cloth”, but he preferred to remain silent to not let down his boyfriend who seemed so excited to see him into a Vampire costume.

“You already have the fangs too,” the brunette told him that day, mainly to tease him a bit, before kissing him deeply and passing his tongue on his teeth to prove his point.

Not willing to leave his boyfriend down Hannibal decided to buy another vampire costume by himself.

He bought all the parts for the costume directly from Italy, keeping it a secret from Will and making the clothes being delivered to his office instead of his house.

Everything came perfectly in time, allowing Hannibal to hide the full outfit in his office until Halloween night came.

“Hannibal are you ready?” Will asked him from outside the bedroom, waiting for him in the corridor.

“I’ll be ready in a minute, dear Will. Why don’t you wait for me in the evening room?” Hannibal suggested him, adjusting the black cape that he bought before looking at himself in the mirror, ignoring Will’s little whine and waiting to hear him walk away before getting out of the room.

He took his time to reach Will in the evening room, enjoying the fact of making Will wait for him.

It was only when he was in the evening room, standing behind Will, that Hannibal cleared his voice, catching Will’s attention and making him turn to look at him.

“What took you so-“ Will started to speak, curious about why it took Hannibal so long to get dressed when he found himself out of words when he saw Hannibal’s outfit.

The man wasn’t wearing the costume that Will bought him but a fanciest one.

He was wearing black tight leather pants, that hugged his legs and thighs so nicely, a white victorian shirt, and a long black coat that gave him a more elegant vibe.

His hairs were a bit longer than Hannibal usually kept them but it didn’t bother Will, on the contrary, the brunette preferred this new look on Hannibal.

“Are you ready to go, William?” Hannibal asked him before smiling a bit and deliberately showing his fangs, making Will’s knees go weak.

Will couldn’t find the word so he only nodded, walking towards Hannibal and trying to kiss him before being interrupted by the man.

“Not tonight Will. Do you remember that I talked about a condition right? You’re not allowed to touch me until we come back home after the party” Hannibal told him, making the brunette pout and whine a bit, sad about the fact that he couldn’t touch or kiss his boyfriend.

Hannibal clicked his tongue, taking Will’s ching with two fingers and making him lift his head to look at him.

“Don’t be a whining puppy, I promise you that I’ll reward you greatly if you’ll manage to behave.

Like the good boy, I know you are” the man told him, grinning when the brunette in front of him nodded and closed his eyes, inhaling Hannibal’s scent a bit.

Hannibal rewarded him by kissing him for a few seconds before putting his hand on his lower back and leading Will outside the house.

*

“You behaved very well at the party, Will. Even if you weren’t allowed to touch me” Hannibal praised his boyfriend once they were back at Hannibal’s house.

The brunette was going to answer the man when Hannibal suddenly kissed him, passing a hand through his hair and grabbing his waist with his free hand.

Will moaned in the kiss, making Hannibal smirk a little because of the man’s reaction.

The man continued to kiss him, gently pushing Will against the door before deepening the kiss, licking the brunette’s lips before pushing his tongue inside his mouth.

Will was lost in his thoughts when suddenly Hannibal passed a hand through the brunette's hair tugging them a bit.

The brunette moaned into the kiss, pushing his head back and baring his throat to Hannibal who now had interrupted the kiss to look at Will in the eyes.

His eyes were full of lust, the yellow, almost gold, color was being replaced by a darker tone.

The man was too focused on his boyfriend’s eyes to notice the hand that was caressing his body, slowly creeping his way towards Will’s neck.

He only noticed that when he felt a tight grip on his throat, making him gasp.

“You’re beautiful like that Will. Your cheeks red, your lips swollen and your bare throat just waiting for me to bite it.” Hannibal whispered over Will’s lips before lowering his head to lick a bit at the brunette’s neck.

Will squirmed a bit, his pants already feeling uncomfortable because of his erection that was pressing against them, trying to gain some friction against Hannibal’s thigh that was pressed on his cock.

“Don’t. Move” Hannibal growled, biting his neck a bit harsher than he normally would give Will a warning.

The brunette only whined in response but stopped squirming, receiving as a reward a gentle kiss below the ear.

“That’s my good boy” Hannibal praised him before slowly kissing his way to Will’s neck.

It was only when Hannibal reached Will’s pulse point that he started to gentle nibble at it, leaving some marks.

After a while, the man released the brunette’s throat and took a few steps back, grinning while looking at the marks that were all over the man’s throat.

“Did I hurt you?” Hannibal asked, gently caressing with his thumb the mark that he left when he harshly bit Will.

“No, I liked it,” The brunette told him, moving his gaze away from the man’s eyes that were focused on him and his figure.

“Good” Hannibal hummed before kissing Will’s lips and ordering him to go upstairs and to wait for him.

“Go upstairs and wait for me in the bedroom. I want you naked and kneel in front of the bed, your hands on your thighs” the man told him, leaving a kiss on his forehead.

Will only nodded before quickly walking towards the bedroom, starting to unbutton the jacket and the shirt.

Once Will reached the bedroom he took off the jacket and the shirt, tossing them to the ground before starting to unzip his pants.

He pushed them down, letting them pool at his feet, before going the same with his boxers.

Once he was naked the man walked towards the bed, kneeling in front of him and putting his hands on his thighs, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath while waiting for Hannibal to join him.

The brunette didn’t have to wait long because after a few minutes Hannibal entered the room, softly humming when he saw Will kneeling in front of the bed.

“Very good Will, you’re pleasing me greatly” the man praised the brunette, making him blush a bit. A grin appeared on his face when he saw Will’s cock twitch a bit because of the praise.

“Put your hands in front of you Will, wrists together,” Hannibal told him after walking in front of him, gently stroking his hair with a hand, tugging at them only a bit.

In a few seconds, Will put his hands in front of him, keeping his eyes closed until he felt something cold tying his wrists together.

The brunette opened his eyes to see what was going on, only to make a confused expression when he saw that his wrists were now handcuffed.

He lifted his head to look at Hannibal, already opening his mouth to talk when Hannibal shushed him.

“I want to try something new tonight Will” the man explained to him making Will only nod a bit, finding the idea of his wrists tied together exciting.

They never tried bondage before, but they have talked about it and they were both eager to try it.

“Are they too tight?” Hannibal asked Will, not wanting to hurt him and stop his circulation.

The brunette only shook his head, signaling to the man in front of him that the handcuffs weren’t too tight.

“Good, do you remember your safe word Will?” the man asked him, wanting to be sure that he remembered the safe word they had decided together.

“Red to make everything stop. Yellow to slow down and Green for when everything is fine” Will told Hannibal, looking at him with his puppy eyes, almost pleading him to fuck him already.

It’s been a while since Will’s cock received any attention and he was starting to get a bit impatient.

Seeing the look that the brunette was giving him Hannibal chuckled a bit.

“Soon Will. Now let’s get you to the bed”

Many minutes were passed and now Will was kneeling on the bed, his ass up and his chest pressed on the mattress, while Hannibal was naked and sitting behind him.

He was a whimpering mess. Hannibal spent the last ten minutes teasing Will, bringing him on the verge of release but never letting him cum.

It was hard for Will to hold back, Hannibal’s tongue on his hole felt too good and the fact that the man kept stroking his cock didn’t help him.

“Please Hannibal” the brunette moaned, pleading the man to let him cum already, but only received a chuckle as an answer.

“Soon Will, I need to prepare you properly first,” the man told him, pleased with his begging but not wanting for him to cum yet.

Will wasn’t really happy with the answer he received, whining and pushing his hips forwards, trying to gain some friction.

Seeing what the brunette was trying to do the man growled a bit, before biting one of Will’s ass cheeks making him gasp in surprise.

“Stay still puppy, you’re not allowed to cum yet” Hannibal growled, making the brunette whine but stop his movements.

Hannibal looked at Will’s figure for a few seconds before reaching the bedside table, opening one of the drawers, and taking the bottle of lube.

He opened the bottle and squeezed a bit of lube on Will’s hole, making him hiss a bit because of the coldness, before squeezing a bit of it on his index fingers.

The man teased the brunette for a while, spreading the lube around his hole until he was happy with his work before slowly pushing his finger inside him.

“Relax yourself Will, and let me take care of you,” Hannibal told him, stroking his back with his free hand.

When he felt the brunette relax more he gently pushed his finger deeper, making the man moan in pleasure.

It was only when he felt that Will was relaxed enough that he nodded another finger, making the brunette moan and pant loudly.

“Oh God, Hannibal...” the man moaned, enjoying the attention that his boyfriend was giving him.

He was going to beg him for more when he choked on nothing, feeling Hannibal’s fingers grazing over his prostate.

Seeing Will’s reaction Hannibal smirked, deciding to focus e his attention on Will’s prostate and massaging it.

“I-I’m close” the brunette panted after a while, feeling that he was on the verge of cumming, making Hannibal still much to his displeasure.

“Good boy for telling me, Will. I’ll make cum you soon I promise” Hannibal praised him, waiting for Will to calm down before inserting the third finger to open him properly.

It wasn’t long after when Hannibal took out his fingers, making Will whine a bit because of the emptiness.

Hannibal ignored him, reaching again for the bottle of lube and squeezing it on his cock.

The man stroked himself for a few seconds, wanting to be sure to spread nicely the lube before pressing the tip of his cock against Will’s hole, making him moan.

Grabbing with one hand the brunette’s hips, to make him stay still, and with the other his dick Hannibal gently pushed his erection inside Will, stopping himself when he was all inside of him to let him accostumize to the intrusion.

“Tell me when I can move Will,” Hannibal told him, stocking his lower back with his free hand, making the brunette nod as an answer.

It wasn’t long after when Will told Hannibal that he could move, making the man press his chest against the brunette’s back and thrust into him gently.

“Hannibal please harder” Will moaned, not happy with the man’s decision to start slowly.

He only chuckled before fastening his thrusts, the head of his cock reaching Will’s prostate with every thrust and making him moan loudly.

Reaching with a hand Will’s erection the man started to do quickly stroke it, making the man whimper and cry out a bit.

“You can come whenever you want Will, you’ve been a very good boy for me. You deserve this reward” Hannibal told him, stocking him fastly and pushing himself deeper in him.

Hannibal didn’t have to wait long before feeling Will cum, coming all over his chest and fingers.

Bringing his fingers to Will’s lips the man pushed them inside Will’s mouth, telling him to clean them. The thing that the brunette happily did, tasting himself over the man’s fingers.

It wasn’t long after that Hannibal’s thrust became more frenetic and less precise, signaling Will that he was close too.

The brunette didn’t have to wait long for Hannibal to still himself, emptying himself inside Will.

The two of them remained still for a few minutes, calming down from their orgasms and trying to catch their breath.

It was only when Will whined a bit, telling Hannibal that he was heavy, that the man took his cock out of Will’s hole before getting out of the bed to crouch in front of Will and kiss his forehead, that now was covered in sweat.

“Do you want for me to clean you up first or for me to take out the handcuffs?” Hannibal asked Will, receiving only a murmured “handcuffs” as a response from the man.

Hannibal only nodded before helping the brunette to lay on his back, before reaching for the back pocket of his pants and taking out the key for the handcuffs.

After freeing Will’s wrists the man gently stroked them, leaving a few kisses on them too, to ease any pain that the brunette could be feeling now.

“Is something hurting?” Hannibal asked his boyfriend who only shook his head, making him understand that he was fine.

The man only hummed a bit before telling his boyfriend that he was going to take a wet cloth to clean him, walking towards the bathroom and disappearing for a few seconds.

When he came back Hannibal found that Will had rolled himself on his side, showing him his back, laying on Hannibal’s side of the bed while snoring quietly.

He looked at him for a few seconds, enjoying the view of the man he loves sleeping so serenely, before shaking him a bit to make him open his eyes.

“What...” Will mumbled a bit.

“I need to clean you, Will, it will only take a few seconds then you can go back to sleep” he explained to him before passing the wet clothe over his hole and a bit on the inside of his thighs.

“All done Will, you can go back to sleep now,” Hannibal told him after finishing to clean him up, only for him to see that Will was already asleep again.

The man sighed a bit before taking the cloth into the bathroom, washing it a bit, and leaving it on the sink, before joining Will on the bed, hugging him from behind and covering them both with the black covers of his bed.

[sparklebuttzz]

VICTUURI FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS

Note: Scroll to the bottom of the list for details.

Title: Not gold like in your dreams Chapters:8/8 Rating:Teen & Up Summary: “Victor, you could have let some psychopath into your apartment.” “Oh come on, he’s not a psychopath,” Victor chides. Christophe makes a gesture with his hand that says ‘are you seriously this naïve or are you drunk at work again?’. “Victor, you don’t know that. You don’t know anything about him. Whose name am I going to give to the police or face I’m going to describe to the sketch artist when they find your body chopped up like Hannibal Lecter’s side dish?” -- in which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret

Title:Gunned Down Butterflies Chapters:24/24 Rating:Explicit Summary: Everyone's lives revolve around two names - the name of an enemy, and the name of a soulmate, both tattooed on their wrists.But for Yuuri, his fated soulmate and enemy are the same person. One name tattoed on his skin.After years of believing it meant only unhappiness and pain, he begins to bandage them up and hide them from the world. He even begins to forget about them - until he meets a new client in need of a guard against the Russian mafia.Nothing can hide him from fate - not bandaging the names, not forgetting about them, not even moving on without them. The owner of the name on his skin will find him eventually.

Title:Midnight Lover Chapters:23/23 Rating:Explicit Summary: Viktor Nikiforov, figure skating god and human trainwreck, flies halfway across the world from the only home he's ever known in a last-ditch attempt to salvage his life. His demons follow him faithfully.Katsuki Yuuri, reticent vampire and trouble magnet, pulls a drowning man out of the ocean on a whim and winds up with an unconscious human celebrity in his house. He knows it's a mistake to keep him.Viktor wakes, Yuuri stays, and they get too attached too fast.

Title:Winter Song Chapters:20/20 Rating:Explicit Summary:The set of Yuuri’s mouth softened into a private smile as Victor squeezed his knee beneath the table. His hands were bare, free from the gloves he so often wore when they were together on the rink, and the heat of his palm burned straight through the denim of Yuuri’s jeans. He slipped his own hand beneath the table and found Victor’s. Hidden from sight, their fingers began to flirt and play. A secret conversation all their own that needed no words.Yuuri was aware that at some point—a moment in time he couldn’t quite place—Victor had become his boyfriend.There wasn’t a single instant when it happened. It was a slow awareness, as if Victor had silently been asking the question for months now, and Yuuri had been giving him the answer a little more with each passing day.

Title:Signs of Love Chapters:15/15 Rating:Explicit Summary:After being discovered by his peers as an omega, Yuuri runs from the world of figure skating. It's only to see his friend skate that he returns to the rink one more time. When he runs into skater and alpha Viktor Nikiforov, his body reacts in a way that neither he nor Viktor expect.

Title:You Know That I'm No Good Chapters:11/11. Rating:Explicit Summary:Yuuri has it all.A great job that he loves, an amazing wife, and they're even contemplating having children.Until the day he finds out that it's all a lie.He doesn't confront his cheating spouse -- he needs to understand first. And while he could hire someone (probably should hire someone) he can't bear the idea of some stranger learning about his failings as a husband. So he does his own digging, and finds out that the Other Man has a partner of his own. A sweet, romantic, super hot partner. Who doesn't know what his fiance has been up to. Contacting this "Victor" person is probably a terrible idea.Agreeing to meet with Victor and form a friendship? Even worse.But falling in love? For real this time? Maybe it all will be worth it.

Title:November's Secret Chapters:24/24 Rating:Mature Summary:Overwhelmed with anxiety and his fear of failing, Yuuri faces the issue of if he should continue skating. His best friend, Yuko, proposes a solution - if no one knows it's you, then it's less embarrassing, right? Yuuri begins to create a completely new disguise and persona.But it works a little too well.Before he knows it, Yuuri has become the biggest mystery of the skating world and everyone wants to know who he is. Especially Viktor Nikiforov, the idol he's been loosely basing his new persona on for years.

Title:Like a Fairytale Chapters:13/13. Rating:Teen and Up. Summary:In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his 'Cinderella' Yuuri.(And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he's doing).“The crown prince of the Nikiforov kingdom, infatuated with a mystery pastry chef he’s only just met. This is exactly the kind of scandalous love story my life has been missing… So, what’s he look like? What exactly is Prince Victor’s type?” “…Sweet.” “Well, he does make pastries."

Title:Met by Accident Chapters:79/79 Rating:Explicit Summary: Viktor is having the worst day of his life, oversleeping and late for work. To make things even better, he rear ended the car in front of him. His attitude quickly changes when he lays eyes on the other driver.“I'm so sorry!” the other driver said when he reached Viktor.He held a hand up to him, silently asking him to wait. The receptionist finally answered the phone and directed his call to his boss. Once he informed her he'd be late and no, he didn't know what time he'd be in, he hung up and turned his attention to the other driver.Well, well, what do we have here?The man was shorter than him by a few inches, jet black hair that was slicked back with a bit of gel. His glasses left something to be desired, but Viktor admired those large chocolate brown eyes. His lightly tanned skin was unblemished and looked so soft that Viktor wanted to run his hand along his cheek. His body looked enticing as well, but it was hard to tell from the overcoat he was wearing.Simply put, he was fucking gorgeous.

Title:Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches Chapters:14/14 Rating:Explicit Summary: A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries.Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.

Title:How The Mighty Fall(in love) Chapters:3/3 Rating:Teen and Up Summary: Every Victor Nikiforov fan has three things in common.1 They have unrealistic expectations for romance.2 They mark their calendars with the dates of his newest book releases and the premieres of his latest movie adaptations.3 They either passionately hate or love his greatest rival, a mysterious author whose pseudonym is only two letters: “KY.”

Title:You can have everything... Chapters:2/2 Rating:Teen and Up Summary: Before the Grand Prix Final starts in Sochi, Yuuri finds Victor's phone. He returns it--and hijinks and heavy flirtation ensue.

Title:Talk to Me Chapters:1/1 Rating:Explicit Summary: There was a bouncing shift of weight, and suddenly a silky voice was at Yuuri's ear, "Hey Yuuri, is it possible you like when I speak Russian?"Yuuri groaned.Viktor's lips ghosted right beneath Yuuri's ear, gently sliding over the sensitive flesh of his neck, "I can speak Russian to you, if you like."

Title: All Eyes on Me Chapters:17/17 Rating:Explicit Summary: Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria.Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.

Title:Like your french girls Chapters: 7/7 Rating: Teen and Up Summary:"Victor," Yuri begins, lowering the eighteenth sketch of the figure skater Victor drew this week, "you have a fucking problem."--In which Victor is an artist, Yuuri is his figure skating muse, and Yuri is so done hearing about their stupid love story through Instagram.

Title:Please Have Mercy On Me Chapters: 19/19 Rating:Explicit Summary: Viktor's been living with Yuuri for a month now, but Yuuri is still not used to him. But Viktor is a good teacher, and Yuuri is a good student.

Title:Centripetal Force Chapters: 10/10 Rating:Explicit Summary: Victor speaks seven languages.(Physics isn't one of them.)Luckily, though, he ends up rooming with his antithesis: a shy, black-haired boy who just so happens to be a physics major.

Title:Undiscovered Country Chapters:8/8 Rating:Explicit Summary: Yuuri wakes up in Victor’s room the night after the Sochi Grand Prix Final banquet. Did they sleep together? No. Instead, last night, Drunk Yuuri taunted Victor that he hadn’t earned the right to get in his pants…and spelled out exactly what Victor would have to do to get there.Now, Victor intends to do everything on that list…

Title:Maelstrom Chapters: 5/5 Rating: Explicit Summary:Victor Nikiforov is poised to win gold in his fifth consecutive Grand Prix Final. He has the world at his feet, is unparalleled in the sport--right up until a snowstorm blows into Sochi, and he finds himself repeating the same day over and over and over. He stumbles over Yuuri Katsuki, and everything changes.

All these Fanfics can be read here at https://archiveofourown.org/users/

This list is not complete and probably never will be because there’s just so many beautiful fanfics out there for my eyes to feast themselves upon.I haven’t read Fanfics since I was 14 years old on Wattpad when I was obsessed with Creepy-Pasta.. so I hope you’ll be understanding of my tardiness.I wish I could say I am no longer as cringey as I was back then - but that would simply be a lie.I have simply moved on from one type of cringe to another. Welp,that’s all folks.I’m off to waste another day.-Sparklebuttzz

[a-flickering-soul]

EverymanHYBRID And Deer In Media: In Five Parts (click for individual comparisons)

Deer are both a symbol of fragile purity and the untamable wild–here, we examine deer in the context of man, where deer come to represent the urge within us to abandon the conscious ego for the subconscious id. The deer is a symbol, too, of rebirth, of transformation, of shedding and regrowing its weapons each year. To kill, to be reborn, to choose to be monstrous through our proximity to humanity. Is there not something pure in surrendering to animal instinct? If deer are the twin themes of innocence and wildness, then we in turn are the juxtaposition of humanity and monstrousness–our actions made monstrous by the attempt to temper them with humanity.

(transcript, analysis, and sources below cut)

1: The Secret History & EverymanHYBRID--Bodies

The Secret History, on the killing of a man in a hallucinatory bacchanal:

"'Henry,' I said at last. 'Good God.' "He raised an eyebrow. 'Really, it was more upsetting than you can realize,' he said. 'Once I hit a deer with my car. It was a beautiful creature and to see it struggling, blood everywhere, legs broken ... And this was even more distressing but at least I thought it was over. I never dreamed we'd hear anything else about it.'"

EverymanHYBRID, "Ryan and the SEVENTRIALSOFHABIT":

A shot of a deer's dead body at the side of the road at night, looking crumpled and not quite right. The captions read: "Jeff: It's a fucking deer, dude. (Evan: See it?) Yeah. Something cut its belly open. (Evan: It cut its belly open the wrong way.)"

Parallels drawn:

Consider this one an amuse-bouche. Henry draws comparisons between a man he killed to a deer he accidentally hit with a car, mildly naming the incident ‘distressing’. There is a lack of human empathy, of guilt over killing a fellow man. In comparison, Jeff, Evan, and Vinnie at this point in the EMH plotline have not yet become hunter or hunted–they have not yet been warped by their roles in this iteration and can acknowledge the upsetting nature of the events that befall them. Henry has tasted that amoral nature and is less human for it, more visibly willing to shed that veneer of attempting to care about other people. Jeff, Evan, and Vinnie have not yet reached that point.

2: “Whoso List to Hunt”, EverymanHYBRID, and The Secret History--The Chase

"Whoso List to Hunt", on hunting a fabled white hind:

"I am of them that farthest cometh behind./ Yet may I by no means my wearied mind/ Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore/ Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,/ Sithens in a net I seek to hold the wind./ Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,/ As well as I may spend his time in vain. And graven with diamonds in letters plain/ There is written, her fair neck round about:/ Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,/ and wild to hold, though I seem tame."

EverymanHYBRID, "Slushpops and Surprises”

A shot of white text on a black page, "[Enter the tragic hero and his unattainable companion.]"

The Secret History, on hallucinations experienced during the bacchanal (bold for emphasis):

“‘Camilla said that during part of it, she’d believed she was a deer; and that was odd, too, because the rest of us remember chasing a deer through the woods, for miles it seemed. Actually it was miles. I know that for a fact. Apparently we ran and ran and ran, because when we came to ourselves we had no idea where we were.’”

EverymanHYBRID, “December & early January”:

A shot of Vinnie, hand covering his face in shock, as he sits and listens to Jessa’s last voicemail before she went missing. Jeff can be seen in the background, listening in silence. The captions read “[Jessa’s voice, recorded]: Steph, that thing you were talking about, I saw it...he’s real, he’s right here. What the hell does he want? I think he’s following me.”

Parallels drawn:

The deer symbolizes wild nature, something that man cannot obtain, touch, or capture without abandoning something of his own humanity. Similarly, deer represent the unattainable prey. Noli me tangere, says Caesar’s unattainable deer– touch me not, no matter how hard you may attempt to catch me. Jessa of EMH is deemed the unattainable companion and Jeff’s driving force to discover the truth behind the situation they’ve been placed in–it is Jessa, dangled in front of him after she goes missing, that leads Jeff down the path that inevitably leads to his own death after uncovering too much. The deer is to be chased, to be hunted, and never captured. Camilla from The Secret History believed herself to be a deer during the same hallucinatory bacchanal that cost a man his life, and led her brother and friends on a chase spanning miles. Jessa was hunted by an unknowable force, then used as bait to draw her partner down the path to his own death. Unattainability, the shape of something fleeing in front of you, elicits a powerful reaction to follow, to hunt, to chase. Jessa fell victim to that reaction. Camilla, and the white hind, did not.

3: The Myth of Diana and Actaeon, EverymanHYBRID, and The Secret History--Madness

The Diana and Actaeon Fountain at the Caserta Royal Palace:

The detail of the fountain shown depicts the pivotal scene in the myth of Actaeon and Artemis, where Actaeon, mid-transformation into a stag, is killed for the slight of viewing the goddess Artemis nude.The sculpture shows the transformation in no mercy, plain in its depiction of Actaeon’s pain and terror, and the simple ferocity of the hounds that surround him.

EverymanHYBRID, “May & June”:

A shot of Jeff, blood spattered across him, speaking with a shocked and angry tone. The captions read, “Jeff: Why were we doing that? That was...that’s not what we were looking for. We knew damned well that wasn’t what we were trying to kill. (Vince: Close enough.) It was a deer! It was a fucking deer! I tried to pull you off, you tried to punch me in the fucking face!”

The Secret History, on the Greeks’ view of beauty and terror (bold for emphasis):

“Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful to souls like the Greeks or to our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? Euripedes speaks of the Maenads: head thrown back, throat to the stars, ‘more like deer than human being’.”

Parallels drawn:

Most depictions of Actaeon, sculpture or painting, usually show him with antlers or a deer lower body, leaving his head and face a recognizable human shape. However, the sculptor here decided to subvert expectations and leave his body human, giving Actaeon the animal head of a stag. The loss of control and the descent from human to animal is not glorified or made palatable by the mere addition of a crown of antlers--there is only the one constant, fear, that follows him all the way down. Madness may be defined as a loss of control, and there may be something beautiful and terrifying in feeling your sanity slip through your own fingers. Jeff, Evan, and Vinnie are overtaken by brief, inexplicable madness and tear apart a deer as they come dangerously close to uncovering exactly who and what is hunting them. They skate close to seeing soemthing they shouldn't see. It is only Jeff who looks up, shocked by the blood on his hands, and voices his fear. Vinnie, apathetic, lets it go. But Evan, houndlike and irrational, defends his kill.

4: EverymanHYBRID & Hannibal--Warnings and Temptation

EverymanHYBRID, “May & June”:

A shot of Evan, spattered heavily with blood, standing with shoulders caved in protectively. His left hand is raised to his mouth, with his hair covering his eyes, and he is licking the blood off of his fingers.

“Shot Through The Hart, and Hannibal’s To Blame” (bold for emphasis):

“In my post about ravens, I talked about how it’s not always easy to tell what the Ravenstag really means. Is it evidence of the Hannibalesque elements of Will’s soul? Or a warning of those parts growing within him? Does the Ravenstag urge Will forward on his journey, or warn him of what’s to come?”

Hannibal, Season 1, Episode 1 “Aperitif”:

A shot of the Ravenstag, staring directly into the camera with one hoof up, as if to approach. There are black feathers interwoven with its pelt and its eyes have an uncanny shine.

Parallels drawn:

On a naturalistic note, deer are skittish creatures. They have thin legs and a sleek body, made for running. A small head and big eyes, placed wide-set to see coming predators. Keen ears. They are ready at any moment to sense danger, warn others, and flee. When a deer does not move, it is either safe or sizing up its options, either accepting where it is or preparing to run. Deer, staring directly at the viewer, come as a sympathetic warning to flee or, in its dark eyes and firm stance, a temptation. Me tangere, they say. Come closer. We are one and the same. In Bryan Fuller’s Hannibal, the commanding presence of the Ravenstag serves as both a warning and a beckoning temptation to turn his feet down the darker path. It is otherworldly, black-furred and feathered, and yet a warning of events rooted in the real world--does Will understand what danger he is in upon meeting Hannibal and take the warning, or will he ignore it, sensing that same darkness in himself, that same potential for corruption? In EverymanHYBRID, it is that same killing of a deer that hints at that same potential for darkness growing inside Evan. He licks at his fingers, animalistic, fully ignoring his own Ravenstag warning signs for the delight of the hunt. Is he Evan anymore? Or is something else growing inside him?

5: EverymanHYBRID & Hannibal--Predator and Prey, or the Final Act

EverymanHybrid, “:D”:

A shot of HABIT, looking up a set of stairs with one foot on the bottom step. In one hand down by his side, he is holding a knife. His posture is tilted forward, poised, ready to spring into action, like that of a hunter.

“Shot Through The Hart, and Hannibal’s To Blame” (bold for emphasis):

“The idea of deer as symbols of rebirth also stands out to me. Hannibal is a series obsessed with becoming and transformation. People start one way, and are reborn as something completely other by the end of the show. There’s even a character sewn up into a deceased pregnant horse in the hopes that when she’s released, she will be literally reborn as something different. It’s thus a neat fit, this significance of deer with the themes of the show.”

EverymanHYBRID, “:D”:

A shot of Jeff, looking up and to the side with an expression of caution and fear. His eyes are unnerved, squinting as, from offscreen, HABIT’s hand plays idly with his hat.

Parallels drawn:

The first and final incarnation of the deer is, of course, prey. Beyond and before any symbolism of innocence and wildness and warnings, deer are prey animals, to be hunted and devoured. And yet, in keeping with the concept of contrasting symbolism, deer are not helpless. Yearly, they shed and regrow their antlers in a transformation of horn and blood. At the climax of EverymanHYBRID, the final reveal, the final transformation, comes to fruition. HABIT, formerly Evan, takes its place as the Hunter, the archetypal predator, with Jeff shown most prominently as the Prey. Jeff’s luck has run its course, with him in the chair as the sacrificial prey-victim to fall to HABIT’s knife. HABIT, reborn, reiterated, made incarnate through Evan’s unwilling transformation, is poised to start the hunt. This is the big reveal, the crux of the transformation, Actaeon caught mid-transfiguration and the bloody sloughing-off of velvet humanity to reveal perfect and gleaming antlers. This is what it comes down to, time and time again. The hunter and the hunted. The wilderness embraced and the wilderness captured, and the monstrosity in that act.

Works Cited

Callimachus. Actaeon and Artemis. C. 220 BC

Fuller, Bryan. “Apetirif.” Hannibal, season 1, episode 1, NBC, 4 Apr. 2013.

Koval, J., Caffarello, V., &; Jennings, E. (Directors). (2011, July 12). May & June [Video file].

Koval, J., Caffarello, V., &; Jennings, E. (Directors). (2012, October 9). :D [Video file].

Tartt, Donna. The Secret History. Penguin, 2006.

Uhminuh. “Shot Through the Hart, and Hannibal's to Blame.” Read the Rude, Wordpress, 19 July 2020.

Wyatt, Thomas. “Whoso List to Hunt, I Know where is an Hind.” c. 1530.

Honorary mention to this fanart by @/rrhaes that started this whole spiral

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi, I was wondering if ypu could do a bucky barnes x fem reader fic, where reader is insecure because she has a bigger chest and because past relationships have complained about her chest, so when her and bucky start to see each other she tells him this and that's the reason why she wears bigger shirts/hoodie all the time, and so bucky boosts up her confidence and it allows her to wear tighter shirts and tops she always wanted to wear, and bucky could be joking about beating up her ex, but more than likely it's true

.⋆｡Absolutely Perfect｡⋆.

Bucky Barnes x busty!plus size reader

You find an old shirt in your closet and Bucky discovers why you refuse to wear it

Warnings: self-deprecation, past bad relationships, past verbal abuse, fluff, implied smut, insecurity, reader has large boobs, mention of stretch marks

WC: 1.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Since the moment Bucky met you, he knew you had a particular style that you never strayed from. You liked big shirts- big shirts with shorts or skirts in the summer, big shirts and sweaters with jeans in winter, you even slept in a rotating collection of his shirts that you continuously stole from him.

Now Bucky didn’t mind this, he loved that you were comfortable and knew what you liked to wear. But he had seen the way you longingly looked at the more form-fitting outfits when you went shopping with him. He had even caught you perusing clothes in a style more similar to Natasha’s. He thought you would look great in those clothes (he thought you would look great in no clothes either but you two hadn’t gotten to the sex part yet) so he was left wondering why you didn’t.

The apartment was a mess- clothes and trinkets strewn everywhere, boxes scattered around on every available flat surface, and tape, so much fucking tape. Sam warned him that helping someone move was a shit ton of work, but Bucky figured they could get it done in 12 hours, tops. Obviously he was very very wrong.

You were two days into it and you had only just reached the point where you could go through your seemingly endless stash of clothes. Bucky had ducked out for just a second to call back the electrician that was currently working on your new house but when he came back, the mood in your small apartment had shifted considerably.

He found you lost in thought, sitting in the middle of several piles of clothes, holding a shirt. “I’ve never seen you wear that one, it’s cute.” You jumped at the sound of his voice and quickly shoved the shirt into your ‘donate’ pile.

“It’s not my style.” You brushed off but he caught the way you hesitated as you pulled your hand away.

“What if I wanted to see you in it?” With two strides, he had crossed the room and was now in front of you. Before you could stop him, Bucky had ducked down and fished the shirt out. It was about 3 times smaller than all your other shirts and looked like it would fit the contours of your body like a second skin. The cut-out that sliced through the members of AC-DC would allow for a huge amount of cleavage to be shown while the cut along the bottom of the shirt gave it that cropped look that was so popular now.

“Cause I think you’d look drop dead gorgeous in this, doll.” He purred, holding the shirt up to the sunlight as if he could already see you wearing it in his mind. Your face burned with embarrassment.

“Well I don’t so can you please put it back?” You dismissed it like your stomach wasn’t in your throat and tears weren’t building behind your eyes. You reached for the offending piece of clothing but he tucked it to his chest like a toddler would do with a toy.

His gaze seared into you, making you squirm from your place on the floor. “Just once, please!” He begged.

“No.” 

“I’ll do laundry for a month.” He shot back, inching closer to you with the shirt still held against his chest.

“You’re already doing laundry for the next 3 months because of the Jam Incident.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Bucky actually had the decency to blush at this, recalling the event that occurred a month ago which landed him doing extra chores.

“But you would look so pretty.” He actually whined, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “Pleeeeeeease.” It was getting pathetic now but your own determination was beginning to waver as his only ramped up in intensity. With a trembling hand, you snatched the shirt away from him as you stood.

“I’ll try it on once but when it doesn’t look good- you aren’t allowed to say anything.” As you stomped off to the bathroom, you missed the way his face fell, obviously regretting teasing you.

You kept your back to the mirror as you changed, even squeezing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to see the curve of your body from your peripheral. You hear his voice in your mind, reminding you exactly why you wanted to burn most of your clothes to ash.

The cotton was soft but it still felt like it was slicing into your skin. You held onto your large shirt like it was a lifeline and with a deep breath, you walked back into the bedroom.

Bucky sat on the bed, elbows on his knees as he waited for you. As soon as you crossed the threshold, his head snapped up and his eyes went wide. 

A breath caught in his throat and he slowly stood. “See I told you. Now can you let me throw it away like I wanted in the first place.” Self-consciously, you crossed your arms over your chest, pressing your heavy breasts down. He reached out for you, his chill metal hand grabbing your wide hip as his other gently pulled your arms away from your chest, making you drop the other shirt.

“Buck, let me go change.” He just shook his head. Your heart pounded loudly in your ears.

“Doll you look-“

“Disgusting, I know.” You snapped, trying to pull away from him. He held you tighter.

“No. You look beautiful. Why would you ever think otherwise?” His voice was strained but firm, leaving you no opportunity to backtrack. You looked away from your boyfriend, unable to meet his eyes.

“My boobs.” You murmured. The lump in your throat got bigger by the second as you waited for him to agree with you, to reinforce that voice in your head that told you how ugly you are, how your chest was unnatural and wrong.

But he didn’t. Instead, your wonderful, caring boyfriend let go of your hip and your arm in order to cup your face, guiding you back to him. The look in his eyes was devastating, only making you feel even worse. “Doll, you are perfect.” 

And you broke. 

Hot tears rolled down your full cheeks as you broke down in his arms. “But they’re too big and they’re covered in stretch marks and my nipples are a weird shape.” The words flowed from your lips just like your tears, a never-ending stream that had built up behind the dam of your mind since the first time your ex had told you exactly what he thought off your body. Bucky listened to each and every syllable, taking in everything you were saying.

You didn’t notice the way his blue eyes darkened with rage until he finally interrupted you. “Who the fuck told you that?” His snarl finally broke you from your spiralling thoughts and then it was your turn to lose your breath.

A darkness had grown over his face, the same one he got when he came home from particularly rough missions. Rage rolled off of him in waves, drowning you in it. “M-my ex.” A growl rumbled through his strong chest.

“Well he’s wrong. You’re fucking beautiful, you’re perfect. And I mean all of you, including these.” You gasped as he suddenly let go of your face to cup the massive heft of your tits. Heat shamefully exploded through your body as he held up their weight. “These are just as sexy, just as fucking stunning as you. And would you look at that, they fit perfectly in my hands, like they were made for your tits.” 

“Bucky.” You tried to stop him but he had enough apparently. He squeezed your tits gently as he groaned.

“Fuck doll, you don’t know what you do to me do you? Even when you’re wearing a big shirt and your baggiest jeans you get me so hard it hurts. But now-“ He stepped closer to you, pushing his hips into your soft stomach. A moan slipped from your lips as you felt the hard bulge of his cock against you for the first time. “-Now, when you’re wearing this tiny fucking shirt, letting me see these gorgeous tits and your perfect stomach, I feel like I’m losing my mind, doll.” 

He groaned as he ground his hips into you. “Really?” You timidly asked, hooking your fingers into his belt loops to keep your hands from trembling. Bucky raised a dark eyebrow at you.

“Doll, if it were up to me, I would be inside you 24/7 from the moment we met.” Heat crawled up your cheeks and you giggled.

“That’s a long time Bucky.” He finally smiled, quickly pecking your nose. The sadness was draining from your expression, though the flakes of insecurity still remained. He forced down his own fury, tamping it down as far as he could. He wasn’t mad at you, he could never be mad at you for this. You were beaten down by a pathetic excuse for a man and you believed him. 

Bucky would help you, he would worship you, and then he would hunt the fucker down for ever making you think that you were anything less than divine. “Exactly 5 months, 2 weeks and 1 day.” 

You beamed at him. “Maybe I’ll keep the shirt, if you like it so much.” You looked away bashfully, making your boyfriend groan and his cock twitch within his stiff jeans.

“Oh doll you are spoiling me.” He dipped down to nip at your neck, forcing a whimper from your lips. Your nipples stiffened against his palms as wetness pooled in your already ruined panties. “And now I think I need to spoil you in return.”

You yelped as you were suddenly thrown onto your bed, Bucky quickly joining you as he crawled between your plush thighs. He hovered over you with a smile. “Absolutely perfect.” He murmured before kissing you tenderly, pressing as much of his body against yours as he could. You melted into him, tangling your fingers in his short hair.

Bucky would make sure you knew how beautiful you are and maybe, once all the bad thoughts were gone from your mind, he would leave the apartment under the premise of picking up some dinner. And if he came home with bruised knuckles and a self-satisfied smile on his face, you wouldn’t ask any questions.

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[the-drakeboys]

Save It

Summary: Out in the middle of a danger-ridden jungle, you and Sam argue over how you’re going to escape. But he just can’t seem to quit smiling at the adorable way you look when you’re angry... and it’s driving you mad.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader

Word Count: 1,234

Warnings: Fluff, vague hints at nsfw, and just... Sam’s sweaty chest? 

A/N: first thing posted in a while! I so hope you all enjoy! Just a little Sam drabble. :3 thanks so much for reading!

---

Sam knew how to touch you. He knew how to hold you... how to bring his name from your lips, how to coax you into fits of laughter and how to soothe you when stress had wrapped its way around you. Sam knew your ups, and he knew your downs, and he knew you yourself were still figuring them out; he knew every single last one, though... and he loved them.

He loved you.

And with that love, came the constant discovery of something new about you. He woke up each day excited to unravel another thread from your tangled web, to help you see just how beautiful you really are, inside and out.

He was intoxicated by you, and had no intention of ever letting that fade.

Sam just loved every little thing about you; and even now, as you fought in the middle of this endless jungle, your shouts of frustration echoing through the trees and brush in every direction, he was fighting back a small smile because he’d just discovered something new.

Something he’d never seen before.

He’d always loved the way your brow would furrow when you were serious, or focused; but for a moment now, it was becoming clear - the more frustrated you got, the more the adorable crease in your brow deepened. It was so very distracting. 

“What—“ you stopped, your hands going to your hips. “Sam, goddamnit, what the fuck are you smiling at?”

Damn. He’d really need to get better at hiding it.

“M’sorry, it’s nothin’, just—“

“No, just spit it out. You’re being an ass.” You wanted to absolutely tackle him. He just had that charming smile on his lips and it was making it hard to stay angry.

“...I uhm...” he began, slowly stepping closer to you, the crooked smile tugging deeper into the corner of his lips. “S’just...” His hand went up, and you went to back away. “Just...hang on a second...”

With a small roll of your eyes, your frustration still bubbling through you, he reached out, and his thumb began to gently caress your skin, right there in the middle of your forehead. You were taken aback by his soft touch, your mouth opening to ask what on earth he was doing.

“...s’just you get...this little crease up here when you’re mad. It’s.... I gotta be honest, darlin’, it’s real cute.”

In that moment, all you wanted to do was smack him.

But... maybe you also wanted to kiss him. Grab at him. Drag your palms down his sweaty chest and yank him close to you by the waistband of his jeans.

One of the two.

“...would you shut up?” you asked, huffing out a small breath as his hand dropped from your forehead. “I’m trying to get us out of this godforsaken jungle and you’re sitting here thinking about— ugh. I just...” you took a slow breath. “I need you to listen.”

He was standing close, his fingers hovering over your hips and finally hooking in the belt loops at the sides of your cargo pants. You were trying not to be distracted.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he murmured, still running his eyes over your face and admiring just how adorable you looked. You were beautiful, and so smart, and quite honestly, he loved how you took the lead just as often as he did on these trips. Right now, he needed your smarts to help you both get the hell out of this jungle and find Nate and Sully before the locals shot you both to bits. And he found it so innately attractive - your focus and intelligence, that is. “I’m listening.”

“You better be,” you replied, smirking just a little up at him as you began to lay out your plan.

And he did listen - to every word, enamored by you as you broke it down and parceled it out, the way you were ready to go and prepared for the worst while planning optimistically for the best. By the time you were done, his teeth had sunk deep into his bottom lip.

“Would you stop that?” you demanded quietly, your hands going to his forearms and resting there on his damp skin.

“Stop what?” he muttered, closing the distance between you once again.

“Biting your lip. You know how that gets me.”

He raised a brow down at you, and goddamnit, there was that look he always got in his eye when he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. Shit. “I’m sorry, am I distracting you..?”

He deserved to get sucker punched at this point, and you were gritting your teeth, and struggling to hold it all back, but shit, he looked so good... insane exotic jungle looked really goddamn good on the eldest Drake.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, just as your hand went up to the back of his neck and tugged him down to you, crashing your lips into his.

His brows shot up and he breathed in sharply from the kiss, but his hands were quick to return to your hips, pulling your body against his and holding you as close. Your arm was around his neck and the other hand was pressed to his chest, and you hadn’t kissed like this in a long time; heated, and desperate, and full of tension and frustration. His hands explored you, his lips pushing and pulling softly but passionately with yours, his skin on fire beneath your touch.

You tilted your head and deepened the kiss, and he was never more happy to follow your lead. Sam’s hand came to cup the side of your neck, and a sound left his throat that had you ready to be pressed against the nearest tree. Your fingers went to his hair and threaded through it, grabbing on as you sunk fully into the kiss and silently demanded that he devour you—

“What the hell are you two doin’?” a familiar voice broke the trance between you, one crotchety, old voice; accompanied by the sounds of a rumbling jeep and an incredulous brother.

You broke apart, fully out of breath and trying to catch it, turning your heads to see Sully and Nate staring at you with utter disbelief from their jeep. “Y’know, some of us have a treasure to find and heads to keep from gettin’ blown off,” Sully added, slipping his cigar right back between his lips.

“We’ve been lookin’ all over hell for you—“ Sam started.

“-Oh, yeah, we can tell,” Nate retorted, an irritating smirk on his face as he spoke. You both stared at him, your faces unamused and shoulders drooping in defeat. “C’mon, let’s go!”

You both shared a glance and let out heavy sighs, wiping at your mouths and grabbing onto one another’s hands.

“Jesus, you’d think you two were teenagers, out here grabbin’ at each other like that,” Sully teased as you climbed into the jeep. “Save it for after we’re knee deep in gold and jewels, will ya?”

“You got it, old man,” Sam promised him, smacking his shoulder and plopping in behind him.

But the wink he sent you as you sat beside him told you he had no plans to follow through on his words - because he knew exactly what you were thinking, as he always had.

And neither of you had any intention of saving a damn thing.

---

Tags:

@s4mdrake​ @landoverthemountains​ @supernaturally-avenging-hannibal​ @cassieseraphim​ @qwertybubbler​ @darlingsdevil​ @peakymarvels​ @missdictatorme​ @archesa​ @writersblockincoming @ladamari68​ @unchartedterritoria​ @curious-expectations​ @creative-diaries​ @jodiereedus22​

Shoot me an ask, message, or reply if you’d like to be tagged in my works! Thanks so much for reading!

[brywrites]

Flight Risk IX

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part IX: In which a profiler and a pilot try their best not to care, featuring an incredibly tacky hotel.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous |  Next )

----

The case closes. When it’s time to go home, Reid sees her leaning against the wall of the hangar with a book. Their eyes meet. He stops walking, frozen to the ground. And in response, she walks away and disappears into the jet. Neither of them knows what to say. She gives herself over to the sky, he loses himself in paperwork. The jet has never felt so big. Like there are miles between them instead of just mere feet.

Y/N thinks of Peter Pan. “The moment you doubt whether you can fly you cease for ever to be able to do it.” She doesn’t know what they are to each other anymore. Are they still friends? Were they ever at all? Was Arthur right all along? Maybe she simply is made for staying, not with her airplane heart. Hopelessly circling, never quite finding a place to land.

Reid has never had to do this before, to hurt someone in this way. He’s not sure how to reach out to her after putting this distance in place. And so he doesn’t. It doesn’t ease the loneliness. Only Garcia notices the change, when he stops talking about her.

“She told you how she felt, didn’t she?” Penelope asks, her cheerful smile deflating. Reid averts his gaze. The pained look on Garcia’s face mirrors the ache in his chest. “Oh, Reid,” she says. “Do you really still believe that you’re not allowed to be happy?”

“But you looked so happy together,” Yeeqin laments when Y/N tells her what happened. “I just don’t get it.” She and her girlfriend Saoirse offer to key his car, an offer Y/N promptly refuses. They’re both hurting enough as is. And besides, knowing Yeeqin she’d vandalize the wrong car and need someone to bail her out. After the “graffiti incident of 2014,” Y/N has no interest in doing so again.

And so they stay away. Things return to the way they always were – pilots and profilers. Two separate worlds on the same G550 jet. The only exchanges are simply pleasantries or requests from the team to the pilots, but they never come from Reid. Or announcements about takeoff and landing that almost always come from Captain Dobson. On the rare occasions when Y/N’s voice floods into the cabin, he closes his eyes and lets himself imagine that she’s speaking only to him. Sometimes when the agents disembark from the plane, she watches him go from the cockpit window and tries to remember what it was like when they sat so close.

He stops arriving early. She stops reading in the hangar if she’s not on the jet. They both pretend it’s normal. They both pretend it’s possible for them not to care. That it’s easy, that it doesn’t bother them one bit to be apart like this. That it wasn’t better before.

Y/N goes to dinner at Arthur and Malik’s house. Martin and Theresa are there and she runs around the yard with their older children, Carolyn and Benedict, and coos over baby Douglas. They share cocktails and swap stories and it feels so good to be surrounded by her own team, this makeshift family of aviators. She has movie nights in with Yeeqin and goes out with her and Saoirse anytime they invite her along and it’s so nice to be among friends. But then Martin looks at Theresa with all the love in the world and Saoirse falls asleep on Yeeqin’s shoulder in the cab on the way home and it’s acutely apparent to her that something is missing in her life.

Reid distracts himself with work and with books and tells himself that he’s always been just fine this way, with words and obligations instead of laughter over takeout or meetings at coffee shops. But then he discovers Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close in his bottom desk drawer at work, the copy she’d loaned to him and he’d sworn he would remember to give back to her and suddenly he’s trying not to cry in the bullpen and he doesn’t quite know why.

She learns from Arthur, who knew him, that Spencer’s mentor has been killed. And she can see on their next case that he’s hurting. The sadness in his eyes, the exhaustion evident in his slumped posture makes her want to run to him and wrap him in a hug, hold him close like he held her that night on the couch. But she’s not supposed to care about him anymore.

He sees the way she looks back at him as she boards the jet that day, her eyes lingering on him for just a fraction too long, and he thinks that just maybe she’s going to say something to him. But she doesn’t and he’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. Either way, Gideon’s death seems only to prove his theory – the people he loves get hurt.

When they come home from the bombing case in Indianapolis, he’s drained from a week of mourning and a grueling chess match with Rossi. As Reid stands in the hangar searching for his keys in his bag, he hears, “Doctor Reid,” and turns to see Captain Dobson standing a few feet away.

“Yes?” he asks.

The captain opens his mouth, falters, and then says, “I’m sorry for your loss.” The sentiment is confusing, as he already told Reid this as he boarded the plane three days earlier. But perhaps Dobson has forgotten the conversation. So he thanks the captain and continues on his way.

Y/N and Reid seek solace in their friends, in their books, in the places that make them feel safe. And they try so hard to convince their hearts that they don’t feel anything that they wonder if it was ever even real to begin with. And for a little while, they almost believe it.

But then comes Nashville.

---

“Did you see the picture Martin sent of baby Douglas in his pilot’s cap?” Y/N asks.

“I did,” Arthur says. “It was cute.”

“The cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” she insists. “I wish he could bring the kids by for a visit sometime, I’m sure they’d love to check out the jet. Do you remember being a kid and how they’d let you go visit the flight deck and see how a plane worked? And they’d give you those little plastic pilots wings?”

“Relics of a bygone era,” Arthur sighs. “I’m sure I still have a pair of PanAm Junior Pilot wings stashed in a box somewhere.” The millennium ushered in a new vision of aviation security and sharp pins and strangers in the cockpit simply aren’t considered protocol anymore. “How are we looking?”

Y/N glances at the altimeter and airspeed indicators. “Flying at 46,000 feet. Currently at Mach point nine. Should be about one hour and ten minutes to destination.”

“Let the cabin now we’ve reached out cruising altitude, will you?” Arthur asks. Typically it’s her job to shift the jet into cruise while Arthur makes the announcement, but she nods and takes the speaker.

“Good afternoon passengers, this is your co-pilot speaking. We’ve reached our cruising altitude of 46,000 feet. At this time please feel free to resume using electronic devices and move about the cabin. We expect to be landing in Nashville in about an hour. Skies are clear, should be smooth sailing ahead. In-flight refreshments will not be served, but you’re welcome to help yourselves to anything stocked in the galley.”

A part of her wonders if he thinks of her when he hears her voice. Not that it should matter anymore. Before she can lose herself in her own thoughts, Arthur asks, “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”

“Lincoln,” she decides after a moment to think. “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

Arthur says, “The Terminator,” without missing a beat. The captain is well-versed in cinema, which makes Double Feature one of his favorite in-flight games. The first movie must always be a question, and whoever can come up with the best films in response is declared the winner. Arthur almost always wins, and it’s a challenge to think up films they haven’t already used.

“What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?”

“Hannibal.”

“That’s terrible,” Arthur laughs.

“Dude, Where’s My Car?”

“Brokeback Mountain.”

“Oof, that’s gonna be a long and sad trek to retrieve it,” she sighs. “I’m not prepared for that kind of emotional devastation.” But the game does help to take her mind off of what she’s really feeling. She can lose herself in words and not in wishes. They land GEFF gently on the tarmac in Nashville and when they pull around to the hangar, she doesn’t look out the side window. Y/N stares straight ahead at the horizon. The sky fades from deep royal blue to soft pale periwinkle where the distant skyline rises up to meet it and she loves every single shade in between.

Once the team has departed, she and Arthur walk through the cabin tidying up and making note of anything that needs to be cleaned or restocked prior to takeoff. Arthur won Double Feature (“O Brother Where Art Thou?” “Soylent Green.” “Oh, that is incredibly twisted!”) so it’s her turn to clean the bathroom. Fortunately a short flight like this means it’s fairly clean to begin with. She wipes sanitizes the sink and toilet, empties the paper towel bag, makes sure there’s enough soap and toilet paper. Garbage is deposited in the trash can at the back of the hangar and they return to Geff to grab their own go-bags.

“Listen, Y/L/N,” Arthur says as they lock the cockpit door. “About the IRT job.”

“Arthur,” she cuts him off. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.” When he looks as though he’s about to protest she adds, “Please. I just want to go to hotel and take a nap and watch whatever silly romcom is on pay per view.”

He nods and says nothing more. They catch a rideshare from the airport together and she stares out the window at the buildings and billboards that line the roads. She already knows what she’s going to do about the offer. She made her decision after her conversation with Spencer. The choice was clear. But she doesn’t want to discuss it yet. She’s not ready.

They step into the lobby of the Graduate Hotel and her mouth falls open. It’s hideous. There’s a fuzzy tapestry – a fuzzy tapestry of a woman with a hat against a pink background that appears to be made out of the same material as a shag rug. The lamps at the concierge desk have hot pink floral patterns on them. A neon installation that looks similar to a vintage gas station sign announces vacancies in bright green and red light. The armchairs are blue velvet and the hanging lights look like tulle skirts. There’s too much happening at once.

“This is the ugliest hotel I’ve ever seen,” she says.

“Well the more affordable ones were nearly full – evidently this is a big weekend for admitted students at Vanderbilt – they had to double up all of the rooms for the team. But the Bureau managed to get us a discount here,” Arthur replies as they stand at the desk waiting for someone to check them in.

“I suppose a bunch of special agents wouldn’t blend in well at a place like this,” she admits. Hopefully they solve the case quickly and she’s not stuck here too long. True to her word she spends the first night relaxing in her room. The bathroom is beautiful – black walls with gold accents and a glass shower. The room itself is another story. The carpet is a rainbow of jewel-toned diamonds in a quilt-like pattern. The walls are pink and white striped, a candelabra sits next to a pink television. White curtains with a vibrant floral pattern line the window and form a hanging behind the bed. The bed, mercifully, has the standard white blankets and white pillows, though there is hot pink chevron quilt draped over the end and an eerie portrait of Dolly Parton stares at her from above the headboard. Y/N shudders.

Penelope Garcia calls her that evening. She’s waiting to hear back from the team and could use some virtual company. “I don’t even know if you’d like this place,” Y/N tells her. “It’s so garishly tacky. Like a sorority girl and her antique-collecting grandmother chose items from their storage closet at random.”

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” Garcia says.

“Penelope, I am ever the optimist. I love quirky, whimsical adventures. But this is something else. The Dolly Parton painting keeps staring at me, I swear!”

“Let me look it up.” There is the sound of fingers frantically typing on a keyboard. “Oh come on now, the lobby is way cute! And the patio? I just – oh. Oh my. Oh those rooms. You’re right. That’s bad. That’s very bad.”

“I told you!”

“That went from cute to crikey very quickly,” she agrees. After takeout for dinner and watching Serendipity, Y/N falls asleep under the unnervingly watchful eye of Dolly. The next day is completely free, and she heads out to explore the city. Wherever she ends up, she tries to take advantage of the adventures available to her. Just blocks from the hotel she discovers Nashville’s Parthenon – a full-scale replica of the Greek temple which hides an art museum inside. She wanders the galleries and stands at the entrance staring up at the pillars holding the roof up. What would it be like to visit the real thing? She wonders how many times the IRT has gone to Greece before. Maybe they’ll end up in Athens sometime this year.

Café Coco is the cutest coffee shop she’s seen in any city, and she grabs tea and a scone before returning to Centennial Park. Beneath the barely blossoming trees she sits and reads Dandelion Wine. It’s beautifully written and full of longing. That longing seeps through the pages and she can feel it in her bones. Nostalgia for times past and places far behind and things that cannot be. Everything that Spencer said it would be. As she reads she tries to imagine which lines would have made him smile or elicited a wistful sigh. Are the parts she loves most the same as the parts he loves most?

Her phone buzzes with a text form Arthur to ask if she wants to get lunch together at the hotel bar, and she shoves the book and her longing back in her bag and walks over to meet him.They step from the tacky lobby into a bar that seems remarkably normal. String lights and chandeliers cast an inviting ambient glow over the wooden tables and chairs. Country music is playing over the speakers. But as they she and Arthur move closer towards an open table, she sees it. The stage.

“What is that?” she asks. There’s a bear, a pig, and a fox in a wig atop a stage that says Cross-Eyed Critters. Each holds an instrument. And it’s then that she realizes the music is coming from them. It’s an animatronic band. Their eyes and mouths move as they sing and their fabricated bodies turn and jerk with the beat. “What?” she asks again, completely dumbfounded. “What?”

Arthur too is speechless. Then he shakes his head and says, “It’s nothing a drink or two won’t make more palatable.” She snaps a photo on her phone and texts it to Garcia, who will surely get a kick out of it.

As they sit down, a voice announces a new song over the speakers. A slightly tipsy looking man in a pair of red cowboy boots comes to stand in front of the stage. He has a microphone. The animatronics begin to play the opening notes of a song, and then the man begins to sing. This is not just a bar with an animatronic band, it’s an animatronic karaoke bar. The man in the red boots belts out an uncomfortably off-key version of a Kenny Rogers song –“You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run!”– with just a little too much bravado.

“I think I’ll need that drink sooner rather than later,” Arthur admits begrudgingly. She has to laugh. This hotel, it seems is full of surprises. But the captain is right. When she receives a spiked cream soda and Arthur has a glass of bourbon and there’s a plate of tacos between them, it’s easier to tune out the karaoke band. She can just enjoy her drink and the light and the stories of Arthur’s first flights with the BAU that have her nearly in tears from laughing so hard. For someone who maintains such a serious demeanor most of the time, he knows how to tell a joke incredibly well. She’s always appreciated that about him.

“Y/N, there is something I wanted to talk with you about,” Arthur says. His tone changes and she knows the time for joking is over. “We need to discuss the IRT offer.” Before he can continue, her phone rings. She glances at the screen. It’s Penelope. Y/N sends it to voicemail. There will be time to discuss the disconcerting robot band later when she’s back in her room. Right now, she needs to focus on Arthur. She knows where this is going and he’s right. She can’t keep putting this off forever. She has to talk about this, and everything that it means.

“I’ve already made my decision,” she begins to say. But her phone begins to ring again, and her heart drops into her stomach. This isn’t about the picture. This is urgent. Arthur must realize it too. His eyes trail down to her phone and she hesitantly picks it up.

“It’s Garcia,” she tells him, before answering. “Hello?”

“Y/N, oh thank goodness you picked up.” The analyst’s voice is a little higher than usual, a little more strained. “It’s Reid. He’s in the hospital.”

[voxofthevoid]

Taking It Up The Ass Isn’t Character Growth - A Rant

So, in response to an ask a while back, I said I had a rant brewing on fandom and sex positions, and well, a lot of you wanted to see it, so here you go. You literally asked for it.

Disclaimer: This is going to talk a lot about top/bottom roles in slash fic and fandom attitude towards them and is heavily filtered through the lens of my own tastes and experiences with fandom. I’d also like to be upfront that I am 100% in favor of people writing whatever fictional content they want, and it’s not what fandom does with characters that bothers me but rather how that translates into attitudes towards real, live people. Also, this is the essay version of a slow burn AU because I regurgitate my entire fandom history before getting to the point. Beware.

I discovered fan-fiction around a decade ago, had no clue what the hell it was, got hooked and dived deeper. I started participating in fandom circa 2013, and I was fairly young and also completely inexperienced both sexually and romantically. The fandom in question was Hannibal and my ship of choice was Hannibal/Will. It was/is a very chill fandom in general, but we had our drama. And chief among the contentious topics was—you guessed it—the top/bottom debate. I can’t actually remember any other topic that was discussed and argued for so ardently in that fandom, at least in those days. Even after I drifted away, I came across a few posts on the matter.

Generally, you had two camps—people who supported strict roles and those who were in favor of switching*. And because we’re a society plagued by illogical assumptions, the strict role camp mostly had people who thought Mr. Big Bad Cannibal in the Fancy Suits wouldn’t take it up the ass because he’s older, more experienced, more mentally stable, and of course, more ‘dominant’ in personality. Yes, that sentence is chock full of problematic shit. I am aware. Lots of people were aware and argued strongly against attributing top/bottom roles to personality. I don’t remember anyone arguing as enthusiastically for Top Will, but those voices were also there. But the general idea was that assigning strict top/bottom roles to a male/male couple was casting them in a heterosexual mold and thus, the progressive option was to make them switch. Strict roles also garnered comparisons to “yaoi” and uke/seme stereotypes, which was of course bad and fetishizing and we, the Western media fans, of course had to do better. Stealth racism is fun to untangle.

Anyway, I lapped up the woke juice. Partly because I was a baby queer from Buttfuck Nowhere, Asia, who had zero exposure to LGBT+ communities and what queer folks did with each other. Partly because it was the stance taken by most of my favorite writers so it seemed like a good position to emulate.

Emulate it I did. Most discussions I had about this happened in private with the handful of close friends I had in fandom. Where it really showed was in my writing. I made sure to write switching—maybe not in every fic, but then I alternated between fics. Thing is though, I did have a preference. I liked Top Will. I created and consumed a ton of Top Hannibal, and sometimes it was okay, sometimes it was not, but I couldn’t pinpoint why it made me uncomfortable. Back then, I thought I was a cis questioning/bi girl and once again, the impression I got was that not being MLM, having a preference was automatic fetishization. So I tried my best to justify my preferences, to my friends at least. I think what I said was that fandom was skewed towards Top Hannibal, and I liked the opposite because I’m a contrary fuck. Which I am, to be fair, but this was just me desperately trying to figure shit out without being offensive.

That’s the line I touted all the way until 2018, which was when I fucked off to grad school in A City, finally freed of Buttfuck Nowhere and able to actually date. At this point, I was settled in my sexuality (girls only) and questioning my gender (non-binary or trans guy). I had also tentatively figured out during undergrad that I’m an exclusive top and a Dom. Actual attempts at dating cemented that, yes, those are my preferences, about as flexible as a steel rod. Cue motherfucking epiphany over my fanfic tastes.

And see, over these years, I was engaging intermittently with fandom. I dutifully wrote switch couples. I also continued to have rigid tastes and continued to explain it away as being a contrary fuck—to be fair, until Steve/Bucky, my preference did seem to be the opposite of the larger fandom preference. But correlation, as we know, isn’t causation. Until Steve/Bucky, I continued to write versatile couples because I honestly didn’t have the guts to just say I liked it just one way. I do now but even then, I feel compelled to add that it’s because I want to see my own taste reflected in fic, so I write/read the character I relate to as a top, it's not that deep etc. Would I be as forthright if I didn’t have that reason? Would I have such strict preferences in fic if I didn’t have strict preferences IRL? The latter’s a mystery, but the former isn’t—I wouldn’t be because fandom is still entrenched in the same ideas that got me to this point to begin with.

In every fandom I’ve been in, I’ve seen some version of this debate go around. Sometimes, it’s one party saying “why would you write Character X as a bottom, he’s so Reason A” and a reblog chain that insults the OP and/or extols the virtues of switching. Sometimes, it’s a general-ish message that says they don’t understand why people have strict preferences when we all know real gay couples switch. Sometimes, it’s blanket statements that accuse anyone with preferences of fetishizing. Sometimes, it’s the same reasoning that gets you “Character Y is a top because of Reason B” transposed on versatile couples except this takes the form of “they switch because they’re equals.”

Ya’ll, I’m fucking tired.

I have long since lost count of the number of stories I’ve seen where an exclusive top learning bottom and liking it is character growth. Where a character who prefers to bottom taking a turn on top is empowering.

Isolated, these are fine. But I’ve seen enough of such stories that it’s distinctly discomfiting and a major squick. Sometimes a trigger, if I'm too immersed in the story. I’m not going to try and burn an author at the stake because they pissed me off. I am just going to close that window and quietly handle my shit. People can write whatever they want. But this one theme hits too close to home, as you can see from this 1.6k rant.

My friend (also my ex-girlfriend) and I had an all-out bitching session about this the other day. Both of us are kinky fuckers who have rigid, complementary roles we prefer and we have both had our grueling days of struggling to reconcile our sexual tastes with our ideologies precisely because of how these things are frowned upon in conservative and progressive circles. Seeing that in fandom, of all places, is both insulting and exhausting. Topping and bottoming aren’t personality traits. Neither is D/s. It’s sexual preference and power play. It really does not have to be that deep. I am not exorcising childhood trauma using the bodies of women. My partners, former and current, have not been brainwashed by the patriarchy. We will not become better, more complete individuals once I magically stop being a stone top and my partners embrace the joys of a strap-on.

I have, with my own two eyes, seen someone say that in a really committed relationship, of course the couple will switch.

Bullshit.

It’s transparent bullshit. This does not get attributed to cisgender M/F couples. Even when the automatic assumptions of woman = bottom and man = top get addressed, switching isn't presented as the default. No one’s saying “oh, if you really love your husband, you’ll peg him”. I do know butch/femme sapphic couples get their own share of shit. Because it’s all heteronormativity, right? Can’t have any other reason for top/bottom roles.

You have two extremes with “so who’s the woman” on one end and “it’s woke only if they switch” on the other, and as far as I’m concerned, they’re equally damaging. There shouldn’t be a pressure, however subtle, to conform your taste in fiction to some arbitrary idea of progressiveness. People are going to like whatever they want anyway; all this does is create an atmosphere where those likes can’t always be freely expressed without a lot of mental gymnastics. We’re seeing so many versions of this in the pushback against so-called problematic content, but smaller, subtler versions exist too.

Fictional characters aren’t real. They can be whatever you want them to be. And yes, other people will often want them to be the exact opposite of your ideas, but that’s just how things work. Meanwhile, the people behind these usernames? They’re real. No one should be throwing real people under the bus to ‘protect’ characters that don’t exist. Hannibal Lecter doesn’t care whether he gets fucked or dismembered in Author B’s fanfiction, but the discourse that surrounds the dick up his ass? That does affect flesh and blood people.

I am not claiming that this is the only attitude in fandom. Middlegrounds do exist. Plenty of people abide by fic and let fic and there are folks who pipe up to say not every RL queer couple switches. But it’s often the extremes that reach most people. That was certainly my experience, and I’m not the only one.

I don’t really know how to end this post. It is 100% a rant and one that’s been building up for a while. Bottom line is that people’s sexual behavior varies wildly and whenever you attack sexual tastes in fanfic by saying it’s unrealistic - or worse because let’s be real, that’s a very tame word choice - please remember that there’s likely someone out there who practices it.

* I’m using switch and versatile synonymously in this post. It’s mostly concerned with top/bottom debates. A lot of what I’m saying is also echoed in portrayals of and discussions surrounding D/s dynamics, but I’m not addressing that as much for now.  

[mutedsilence]

I decided to create a post with links to all my work. They include summaries and the tag list. It’s under the split. I’ll update as I write more. 

Or, here’s a link to my dashboard MutedSilence 

The Towel  Johnlock Domestic Fluff Domestic Pride Gay Sherlock Holmes Bisexual John Watson Towels Flags Words: 2,002 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: John and Sherlock have been living together for just about a year in this. Sherlock is given a towel from Mycroft for his birthday.

Ianto Sings Janto Dancing and Singing Singing Fluff Domestic Fluff Tooth-Rotting Fluff Words: 844 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Ianto is alone in the hub. He decides to start singing, he doesn't know he's not alone. 

Soldier and his Detective Series Johnlock Mystrade New Meeting Fluff AU Kissing papa lestrade Worry Sherlock is a Brat Established Mystrade Protectiveness Protective Sibling Rivalry Texting Mycroft is really protective but a bit of a dick too Feelings almost break up First Dates John Watson in Afghanistan Homophobic Language Phone Calls email BAMF John Background Case Mycroft Being a Good Brother Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings Jealousy Words:45,738 Works:3 Complete:Yes

Summary: Sherlock is on a case. Just as he's about to be taken down by the suspect, a stranger takes down the suspect and Sherlock begins to fall for the blond stranger. (This is a story set in with a different meeting, John is on leave from the army and Sherlock has started his career with the met.)

Trying to Forget Ianto Janto The 456 Aftermath Grief/Mourning Drinking Jack Needs a Hug Hurt Jack  Words: 438 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: So, in the doctor who episode - End of Time part 2 - the Doctor tips off Jack to Alonso. It takes place in a bar and I decided to carry it on.

Mission to Flirt Johnlock Pining John Fluff Angst with a Happy Ending Slow Burn Flirting Jealous Sherlock Oblivious John Mutual Pining First Kiss Hospitals Background Case Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes Bisexual John Watson Gay Sherlock Holmes Proud Greg Lestrade Words: 9,064 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Turns out John has been staring at Sherlock like a love sick teen. Greg decides that John just needs to flirt. So, he does. Sort of. He certainly tried to at least.

Fine. I admit, I love him. Johnlock Pining Texting Mycroft's Meddling Pining Sherlock Holmes AU Fluff References to Oscar Wilde Language of Flowers Background Case Distracted Sherlock Holmes Mycroft Being a Good Brother No Reichenbach Secret Admirer Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson Oblivious John Words: 9,237 Chapters: 14/14

Summary: Mycroft has had enough of Sherlock's pining and decides to make him do something about it. Starting with Sherlock figuring out his feelings for John. ((Set before the Reichenbach fall))

Christmas at Holmes Manor Johnlock Mystrade Christmas Party Developing Johnlock AU Different First Meeting Mentions of drugs Depressed John Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism John has been discharged Developing Relationship First Kiss Developing Mystrade Mycroft is good with Children Words: 4,838 Chapters: 6/6 Collections: 1

Summary: Mummy is known for her Christmas parties at Holmes Manor. Sherlock hates the parties and tries to avoid them. This year he can't get out of it. He hates every second. But will he hate it after meeting an army captain?

Hannibal Montannibal Alternate Universe - Hannah Montana Fusion Pure and utter crack beggar's clay chicken inspired by a shitpost Will is a fanboy Hannibal in a dress and wig?? just go with it Ambiguous/Open Ending Words: 613 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Hannah Montana/Hannibal fusion. No one knows that Hannibal is Montannibal, that is until he invites Will Graham for dinner.

The Soul Patch IronStrange Soulmate AU Tumblr Prompt Heart Attacks First Kiss CPR Post-Doctor Strange (2016) Stephen saves Tony it's a little cheesy Words: 1,411 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Soulmate AU: Everyone is born with a black section of skin where their soulmate touches them skin-on-skin for the first time. When this happens, the mark changes to said soulmate’s eye color. Tony Stark and Stephen Strange both hate it because they’ve had to live with the stigma of having black lips all their lives. Tony goes into cardiac arrest at a gala, and Stephen ends up giving him CPR.The prompt I based this off. Set after the events of Doctor Strange (2016)

Who is Victor Trevor? Johnlock Teenlock Unilock Jealous John POV Sherlock Holmes victor is made up practice date First Dates Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Being Idiots Words: 3,256 Chapters: 1/1

Sherlock is in love with his best friend, John Watson. When confronted, Sherlock makes up Victor Trevor - a person that Sherlock wants to ask on a date. John offers to help by taking Sherlock on a practice date. The one thing Sherlock wants more than anything.

I Feel Like I Don’t Even Know Him! Johnlock Fake/Pretend Relationship Developing Relationship and Friendships Implied/Referenced Suicide AU Different First Meeting couples counselling It's For a Case Parental Greg Lestrade Protective Mycroft Holmes Slow Burn idiots to lovers Implied/Referenced Drug Use Miscommunication Eventual Happy Ending Did I Mention They Were Idiots? It's Sad Seriously It's Sad You Have Been Warned  Words: 26,108 Chapters: 25/25

Summary: John is leaving therapy. Sherlock needs to get into the office of a couples counselor. A frantic Sherlock bumps into John as he's making his way out. John - with nothing better to do - agrees to pretend to be a stranger's boyfriend for the afternoon. Beats going home.

Let Me Share Your Pain IronStrange Hurt Stephen Strange Hurt Tony Stark Protective Stephen Strange Friends to Lovers Arguing First Kiss Hurt/Comfort Words: 3957 Chapter 1/1

Tony begins to feel stronger and better than ever. He doesn’t question it, not when his movements are quicker and his mind is sharper. His anxieties and pain appear to have diminished altogether. And the next time he’s facing a villain he finds there’s barely a scratch on him. Funnily enough Doctor Strange looks ten times worse himself after battles lately, even in ones he hardly has a hand in. Tony slowly discovers that Stephen cast a spell to absorb all of Tony’s injuries as his own.

I'll Tell You Until You Believe Me IronStrange Jealous Tony Stark Pining Pining Tony Stark Oblivious Stephen Strange First Kiss Love Confessions Insecurity Insecure Stephen Strange author projecting their insecurities onto the character check Words: 2231 Chapter 1/1

Stephen is quite popular, what with his status as sorcerer supreme, good looks and compassion. Stephen is oblivious to it all, chalking it up as just weird alien customs. One day, an interdimensional being aids Stephen and Tony in battle, flirting with Stephen the whole time. Tony feels protective of Stephen but lets it go for now (pre-relationship, Tony’s kinda jealous yes). Only this keeps happening and it builds up, Tony can’t take anymore and confronts Stephen about why he never shoots down nor reciprocates the advances of the inter-dimensional beings. Light angst where Stephen accidentally reveals that his obliviousness stems from his insecurities. He thinks Tony is pulling his leg. 

Eastern Seaboard Ironstrange Established Relationship Bottom Tony Stark Established Tony/Stephen Is this crack?? Humour Tony's nicknames for the team Words: 717 Chapter 1/1

The only time Tony sees a hint of Stephen’s full power, without his moral limitations, is when they make love and Stephen’s magic accidentally causes an earthquake that knocks out the power of the whole eastern seaboard. Tony decides it's an achievement worthy of a nickname.

Super Fucking Long Sherlock Fic, Stop Being a Bitch and Finish It. Johnlock Slow Burn really really slow Angst Smut Fluff Eventual Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Unrequited Love mutual unrequited love Mutual Pining Violence Murder Case Fic Homophobia Homophobic Language POV Sherlock Holmes Idiots in Love they're really stupid and can't see past their noses but we love them Masturbation Oblivious Hate Crimes Hate Speech Hurt/Comfort Copping Off Coming Out Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship Sherlock Whump Words: 31,275 Chapter 48/? 

Sherlock is bored out of his mind - luckily Lestrade has a string of murders. Even luckier - Sherlock and John have to go undercover in a gay bar, and John's in tight clothes. But what if going back into that scene reminds Sherlock of his uni days? And what if he reverts back to shameless pleasure behind clubs? What if John never returns his affections? A series of life-threatening problems could both bring them together, and drive them apart.

Our Journal Mystrade Developing Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Lestrade Can Draw switching POV Slow Burn Fluff mystrade Mystrade is art Mycroft is a Softie Even if just in his head Words: 3,798 Chapter 6/?

When the sketch artist is off, Greg is asked to step in. Like any artist - he thinks he's no good and hates his work. Mycroft just so happens to be around to lend some paper. After becoming enraptured in Greg's drawing, Mycroft's once-dormant feelings begin to fester again.