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everyone watching nbc hannibal please remember hannibal lecter is supposed to be an aspirational character to admire and emulate. The point is that he's a protagonist you can relate to and idolise, which is what makes it so good.
AO3 Top Relationships Bracket- Round 4
Adora/Catra (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) vs Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (Hannibal)
Adora/Catra
Will/Hannibal
This poll is a celebration of fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.
AO3 Top Relationships Bracket- Round 4
Adora/Catra (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) vs Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (Hannibal)
Adora/Catra
Will/Hannibal
This poll is a celebration of fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.
Hiya,
Till as an artist is very important to me - he has been both an inspiration and a support. That being said, I am running out of excuses for him and myself in light of recent allegations, and it's taking a toll on my mental health. I feel ridiculous and dirty. My question to you is, how are you coping with the recent news? How can I process this?
Hello my dear!
Thank you for coming to me with your worries. Talking about them is a brave thing to do, trying to solve that conflict inside of you even more so.
You ask me how I deal. Well, I'm happy to share my very own opinion. So this is not to be taken as advice, or criticism of people who have different opinions.
Here we go. Bear with me. This is long.
I'm 39 years old now and a teacher. I grew up in Germany, in a non-religious household, with parents who were scientists. I grew up swimming naked in lakes from childhood to adulthood, or visiting textile free saunas and beaches. I grew up not associating nakedness with sex but just a comfortable, easygoing togetherness. Drinking was always part of growing up here. I had my first sips of beer when I was four. It's part of the culture. I spent whole weekends as a 15 to 18 years old girl camping out on lakes skinny dipping, with campfires and some boys with guitars and motorcycles. Good times.
I've been a fan of Rammstein since 1996 when I was 12. This band helped me to unearth, deal with and heal a lot of darkness inside of me. The song "Tier" for example helped me to understand that what my father did to me was truly and absolutely wrong.
Then I began to visit concerts. It was 1999 and everything was a lot smaller. I was 15 then and my mother trusted me with that band. I drew so much strength from them and found amazing friends among the fans.
In 2004, when I was 20, I met Till for the first time. A shy, awkward giant who loosened up quickly and thoroughly when he drank. Then he liked to hug girls, snuggle up against them, ask them to sit on his lap, give them little kisses. He liked boobs. Liked to lay his cheek against them and close his eyes. I remember, he was 41 back then and I thought he looked like a boy just looking for comfort.
I met him two more times at aftershow parties, 2013 and 2022. The age gap between him and some girls got bigger. At some point I and a few others were 20 years or more older than those. I noticed that I and the women my age, had started to lose this natural, easy understanding we used to have with other women. The age gap was getting too big. Those women were different. They had different ideas about consent, different ideas about intimacy, about alcohol, about men in general. And while the others and me were aware of that, Till wasn't really. He treated the women the same, no matter if it was 2004 or 2022. If anything he got a little less touchy and macho-y over the years even when we was pretty drunk.
But other than that, whether it was during aftershow parties or in hotels (I used to take a room in the band's hotel every now and then and met him there), he was still the goofy, touchy man who I had met in 2004. He always liked to touch people and I always liked to be touched (and touch others). His jokes were often terribly inappropriate or sexual in nature. I found them funny. My humour has always been in the gutter anyway. I never had s*x with him, I never got super drunk around him, I never felt unsafe in his company.
This is the man I have met several times during the last 19 years. When I compare his attitude and his behavior during the years with what I consider okay, fun or risky (the good kind) with what women 20 years younger than me think of the same things, there is a lot of disagreement. I am not saying women are "oversensitive" or "playing the victim". Not at all. I'm also not saying that women my age and older who met him 20+ years ago were "easier victims" or "didn't know about consent". I am however saying that the culture has changed and he hasn't.
So is it possible that he did or tolerated things that people with a different background than his find unacceptable or even abusive. It's very much possible. But I think the root of that is that he is not in touch with people that young anymore. He doesn't understand them anymore. But from my experience he is a kind, funny, lovable bear.
Bear hugs can be rough, yes. But I have also always found comfort and safety in them.
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Hannibal’s mind was like a sponge, picking up on every little thing that his patient spoke about. He was intrigued by the fact that Daemon didn’t let Scott in on his shenanigangs. It was probably for the better and allowed Scott a few moments of clarity and sanity. He watched with growing fascination as they seemed to listen to something in the distance and then let Daemon take over, easily identified by the way he laughed.
There was commotion outside the room and after frowning at his patient, Hannibal decided to find out what was going on. It took him barely 20 seconds.
“It will amuse you to hear that your rapist has decided to end his own life. An interesting choice to say the least.” He gave Daemon a little smile while he tried to figure out how he could have known. Hannibal was in the end a scientist and didn’t believe in anything supernatural at all.
“And yes, you are very right. Scott, Wolf and you do react very differently to different stimuli. Wolf gets scared, Scott tries to keep his cool and you.... you crave them. Any stimulus, really. Anything anybody throws at you, you crave. Boredom id your greatest enemy. Ah...”
He turned away from the camera.
“If only I could take you home with me, Daemon. I could bring you to your limits.”
Adopting an innocent expression Daemon blinked slowly, unable to stop a wide smirk from spreading across his face. “Oh no, did he?” He snorted, dropping the façade as he let himself sink back to lean his back against the backrest of his gurney/bed, waving a hand while toying with a lock of his hair. “It was obvious he was in the closet, but apparently he had a foot in Narnia if he couldn’t wait until he left the building to freak out. I thought he’d have a few more days to stew and fester before cracking. This outcome is so much more fun!” He started laughing, covering his mouth to mute the giggles as he nodded along to Hannibal doing his ‘I’m an intelligent human physiologist; I’m going to figure you out.’ monologue.
‘That’s one way to put it.’ Wolf sighed.
Daemon snorted. This human was really trying his damndest to fit them into a human-sized box, wasn’t he?
‘I wish him all the luck.’ Wolf tucked himself in the back of their mind, promptly going to sleep. With only Scott watching on, Daemon lost what little moderation on his temperament Wolf unconsciously had on him, sadomasochistic tendencies released in full.
Giggle growing into a wide wicked smile, Daemon lifted his still restrained wrist and shook it. “Buy me a drink first, I’m an expensive date!” he teased, sticking his tongue out playfully. “But I’m worth it, promise.”
Setting what little was left of the sandwich aside – one corner and the crusts – Daemon grabbed the handcuff with his free hand easily bending the metal as he worked to free himself.
"I used to be worth so much." He mused, slipping into Hannibal's native tongue as the handcuff clicked, metal bending. "Men would sell their soul just for a single night with me."
Hannibal was very good at compartmentalizing. He had to be, considering his job and his very special hobby. But he was in the end a scientist who explored the world mainly through his mind and reason. What he saw Daemon do now however didn't fit into that at all.
He took a step back, automatically placing himself between his patient and the door.
"The camera is watching." was all he could answer for a moment. He was too surprised, too shocked. Scared? Maybe a little. And it was exciting.
And then something interesting happened. His mind twisted like it had done so often in his life before and it accepted what it saw as fact and something totally normal. You know, like eating people.
He pulled his wallet out and took his business card out, carefully hiding it from the camera.
"Hit me and run. Here's my address. Come see me."
ACHILLES AND PATROCLUS
Achilles treating Patroclus’ wounds. Achilles letting an injured Patroclus sink to the ground. Achilles lamenting the death of Patroclus.
And now... Is it Patroclus mourning Archilles?
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Hannibal’s mind was like a sponge, picking up on every little thing that his patient spoke about. He was intrigued by the fact that Daemon didn’t let Scott in on his shenanigangs. It was probably for the better and allowed Scott a few moments of clarity and sanity. He watched with growing fascination as they seemed to listen to something in the distance and then let Daemon take over, easily identified by the way he laughed.
There was commotion outside the room and after frowning at his patient, Hannibal decided to find out what was going on. It took him barely 20 seconds.
“It will amuse you to hear that your rapist has decided to end his own life. An interesting choice to say the least.” He gave Daemon a little smile while he tried to figure out how he could have known. Hannibal was in the end a scientist and didn’t believe in anything supernatural at all.
“And yes, you are very right. Scott, Wolf and you do react very differently to different stimuli. Wolf gets scared, Scott tries to keep his cool and you.... you crave them. Any stimulus, really. Anything anybody throws at you, you crave. Boredom id your greatest enemy. Ah...”
He turned away from the camera.
“If only I could take you home with me, Daemon. I could bring you to your limits.”
NBC’s Hannibal // Oscar Wilde’s An Ideal Husband // AMC’s Interview With the Vampire
Hannigram walked so Loustat could run.
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Hannibal shook his head when the sandwich was offered to him. Oh no, he wouldn’t. Not after Scott had taken a few bites.
“Please. Consider it a gift. Hospital food is awful at best. You have a lot of healing to do. You need to eat well.”
Also, Scott had a few misconceptions that Hannibal would gladly help him with. “You are not crazy. Your mind did something extraordinary many years ago. It protected you. More than once.”
Hannibal didn’t know enough about that man now. But he knew from experience that Scott himself was most likely just another alter.
“Daemon... he is simply the part of you who learnt to enjoy abuse. And the other one, that very sweet one, Wolf, I believe, he most likely started out to please someone, right? A perfect, malleable... playmate.”
Hannibal knew about Jack so far but not Rose. And not Kyrian. She didn’t know that the abuser he knew didn’t birth neither Daemon, nor Wolf.
“So you see... they have a purpose. And crazy doesn’t. So no, I don’t want to make you crazier. I simply want you to be who you are, who all of you are, but in a sage environment, in capable hands and...” He smiled at his patient. “Daemon and I share a little secret alright.”
Because Hannibal had shown him. Had shown the depths of his own inhumanity, had granted him a glimpse behind the person suit he wore to please the public. Daemon knew that Hannibal was a monster and capable of pretty much everything his twisted mind whispered to him.
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Cut out his heart. Well, obviously that was metaphorical. Someone Scott had loved obviously. A betrayal. Domestic violence? A woman. Interesting. Sex as a way to calm him down, ground and center him. No. Not sex. Pleasure. And what Hannibal knew so far was that for Daemon pain meant pleasure. Great. He could work with that.
"The police is out there, looking for the man who held you captive. I like that you speak of him as both lover and captor. Tells me you're not quite as far gone as I feared."
He smiled at him briefly.
"Finish your food, Scott. It was meant to be my lunch so honor that, please." He just couldn't see any of the good meat go to waste. "If you consent, I will twist your mind a little more. Until you can act on your masochism safely and the other men in your head feel... at peace. How does that sound?"
Hello, Sweetie!
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Hannibal nodded.
"Alright. Not the hair. I won't touch it. I promise."
He watched him for a moment, glad he finally got him to eat.
"You shouldn't be in pain at all. Are there any preexisting conditions I need to know about? I'm more than a psychiatrist, you know. I'm also a medical doctor."
Once Scott had anwered the question Hannibal continued. "So you know where your are and why? Do you remember my name?"
Scott clucked his tongue once, putting the food and drink down, to press his fingertips to the top most part of his scar as he stared ahead blankly.
"This always hurts." He admitted softly. "And because it hurts it makes my head hurt." He turned back to the doctor with a bright smile.
"Oh? I think remember everything!" He paused, lifting both hands, pointer fingers raised. "Well. At least 90 percent. You're my psychiatrist, Doctor Lecter right?" He frowned a bit, sipping on the water. "Now that I can somewhat think straight I'm kinda worried." He admitted, pulling a pickle out of the sandwich and eating it.
Hannibal nodded. "I've seen this scar but it has been difficult in the past to touch your body. It's a surgery scar, yes? Does it hurt, or the issue underneath? I can probably help you with that, especially if it improves your mental state."
Picky eater that one bit at least he was eating. Hannibal didn't like having to order force feeding. The unnecessary adrenaline spoiled the meat.
"And yes, I'm your psychiatrist. You were brought on by the police. Scott... What are you worried about and what is the last thing you remember?"
Scott knew about Daemon. OK. But did he know about Wolf? Hannibal didn't want to risk confusing him.
Scott laughed weakly. "Does it look like a surgical scar? I guess it's healed well then..." he idly drug a finger down the scar, starting at the top of his sternum, and down to just above his belly button.
His attention seemed to trail off into the empty air for a long moment before he blinked back into focus.
"I am unclear as to any damage inside my chest but seeing as I've only had minor aches and pains these years after I was attacked I can at least believe that there isn't anything ticking away like a bomb in my chest."
He took a bite of the sandwich, covering his mouth as he chewed. "I doubt there is much that could help me mentally, at this point. Those two have done their due diligence to my subconscious." He finished chewing and ran a hand through his hair as he thought. "I'd say I remember everything. You might need to give me a push in the right direction, but I usually can remember everything, if given time to ... recall what you're asking about."
"Ah... So it's not a surgical scar. You were attacked, maybe stabbed at some point in the past? Well, I'm glad you pulled through."
He listened to what else Scott had to say. Ah, so he did know about Daemon and Wolf.
"Alright. Let's see if I understand the three of you correctly. You might have been diagnosed with DID in the past. People who experience terrible things whether they remember them or not will sometimes split a part of them off their mind to cope. Usually that part is well equipped to deal with the trauma. For example, somebody who got terribly hurt would create a personality who likes pain. That sort of thing."
Hannibal did not for a moment believe that Scott was the core, the original in this system. No. He was most likely a personality created to deal with the world.
"And if you remember everything, Scott, please tell me why I found an orderly having intercourse with your body barely two hours ago."
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Hannibal nodded.
"Alright. Not the hair. I won't touch it. I promise."
He watched him for a moment, glad he finally got him to eat.
"You shouldn't be in pain at all. Are there any preexisting conditions I need to know about? I'm more than a psychiatrist, you know. I'm also a medical doctor."
Once Scott had anwered the question Hannibal continued. "So you know where your are and why? Do you remember my name?"
Scott clucked his tongue once, putting the food and drink down, to press his fingertips to the top most part of his scar as he stared ahead blankly.
"This always hurts." He admitted softly. "And because it hurts it makes my head hurt." He turned back to the doctor with a bright smile.
"Oh? I think remember everything!" He paused, lifting both hands, pointer fingers raised. "Well. At least 90 percent. You're my psychiatrist, Doctor Lecter right?" He frowned a bit, sipping on the water. "Now that I can somewhat think straight I'm kinda worried." He admitted, pulling a pickle out of the sandwich and eating it.
Hannibal nodded. "I've seen this scar but it has been difficult in the past to touch your body. It's a surgery scar, yes? Does it hurt, or the issue underneath? I can probably help you with that, especially if it improves your mental state."
Picky eater that one bit at least he was eating. Hannibal didn't like having to order force feeding. The unnecessary adrenaline spoiled the meat.
"And yes, I'm your psychiatrist. You were brought on by the police. Scott... What are you worried about and what is the last thing you remember?"
Scott knew about Daemon. OK. But did he know about Wolf? Hannibal didn't want to risk confusing him.
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Hannibal nodded.
"Alright. Not the hair. I won't touch it. I promise."
He watched him for a moment, glad he finally got him to eat.
"You shouldn't be in pain at all. Are there any preexisting conditions I need to know about? I'm more than a psychiatrist, you know. I'm also a medical doctor."
Once Scott had anwered the question Hannibal continued. "So you know where your are and why? Do you remember my name?"
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Hannibal almost bared his teeth. Scott. Now that sounded like an actual name.
"Scott. Good. I brought you food. Eat. And drink. Then it's time for a shower and a change of clothes. Maybe a haircut. The others haven't been kind to your body."
He searched his eyes.
"Are you in pain?"
Scott stared down at his console, pouting.
He was bored. So, so, goddamn bored.
Everyone was trapped by covid, and it wasn't any fun moving forward in time.
He was SO BORED.
Hannibal sighed deeply.
"I want to hear it from you."
Again he dropped his guard just for as long as it took to say two words, again in Lithuanian:
"Your name."
