I don't want an obsession that will disappear in a couple of weeks or a few month. I need it to consume both now, to alternate between hate and love until we recognize nothing but ourselves, isolated from the world.
What makes Hannigram so tragic is how fundamentally incomplete they are as individuals—Hannibal is the void, and Will is fractured beyond repair. Together, they form a twisted kind of wholeness, but one that’s forever imperfect. Fuller often describes their bond as one of “mutual transformation,” but that transformation doesn’t mean happiness. It’s about endless cycles of creation and destruction, about the fact that Hannibal can only ever love in pieces—pieces of Will that he takes, alters, and breaks. They can’t be together in any peaceful sense because, deep down, they’ll always break each other. It’s the cruelest form of love, built on the inevitability of suffering.
A sob in front of him. Villain’s eyes snapped to Sidekick. His lip curled back into a snarl. “You…”
Sidekick’s eyes snapped to Villain’s, widening at the pure venom in his voice. Villain didn’t care for the fear, or the flinch, or the pain.
“It should have been you,” Villain hissed. “The wraiths were after you! You should be dead, not Hero.”
Sidekick blinked, too shocked to form any sort of retort. Fresh, hot tears started pouring from their eyes as they looked at Hero’s lifeless, pale face.
“I know,” Sidekick sobbed. “They jumped in to save me. Because I was weak. It… it should have been me.”
For a long, horrible moment there was just silence. Villain’s tears had dried on his cheeks, replaced with red rimmed eyed rage. Sidekick’s sobs had turned to small hitches and whimpers while the sky cracked around them.
Villain felt empty. Dead. As if a part of him resided in Hero had died along with them. His heart, he realised. Hero always had two hearts, theirs and his. He had given it so freely, so unafraid of the repercussions or how dangerous it was to give something so precious to the enemy, but he did… because he knew Hero. Had them read from the start. How delicate they were.
How steadfast and bright and kind and good.
To call Villain their light in the darkness… Villain felt the tears brimming behind his eyes again and held Hero tighter. Hero’s eyes reflected the lightning in the sky. And it was like it struck an idea in Villain’s mind as they gazed up at Sidekick.
“We can fix this Sidekick,” Villain said, licking his lips suddenly. The taste of copper and ash on his tongue was bitter but clarifying. “We can bring Hero back.”
Sidekick blinked at Villain owlishly, as if they didn’t even want to consider the possibility. But it was true, Villain could reach into that pit inside him, that well of darkness and he could find the power to perform the spell of perfect necromancy. Hero wasn’t dead long. He was certain the spell would take.
“Who would know?” Villain shot back without hesitation. “Just me and you. And we wouldn’t tell, would we? But I need your help. I need your strength.”
Sidekick gasped. And when they spoke their voice was a shaky whisper, “you can… you can really bring them back?”
“Yes,” Villain whispered reverently. “Then you won’t be guilty, r-right?”
Villain saw every emotion run across Sidekick’s face. Every doubt, worry, grief stricken moment until finally a grim resolve settled over their face. When they met Villain’s eyes again they were hard, determined. Focused.
“And there will be no side effects? They won’t crave brains or blood?”
“No, it will be Hero again, Sidekick. But I need—” Villain glanced down at their Lover’s face frozen staring at the sky. “I need to go to that… dark place, the one I’m sure Hero told you about before.”
Sidekick stiffened in front of Villain. “But— that’s putting your life at risk,” Sidekick said.
Villain’s eyes were wet again as he stroked Hero’s bloodied face with a knuckle. “I don’t care. I’d do anything for them, Sidekick. Anything.”
A moment passed between them. Wind whipping their hair and clothes. Sidekick balled their hand into fists on their thighs.
“Hero would do the same for you,” Sidekick said, voice hard. “They love you.”
And Villain’s heart warmed that Sidekick didn’t say loved. That they didn’t speak about Hero in the past tense.
“So how do we do this?”
Villain nodded and picked Hero up and stomped their foot on the ground. A shockwave blasted everything away from the clearing so it was just Hero, Villain and Sidekick. Villain placed Hero in the centre of the circle.
“I need sticks,” Villain told Sidekick. “Branches big enough and strong enough to stake into the ground. Go.”
Sidekick obeyed without delay. Villain smiled softly down at Hero, dropping to his knees beside them. “They’re a good kid,” he told Hero. “I can see why you like them.”
Then he got to work. He cut his hand with Hero’s dagger he had given them for Christmas last year, and pressed his thumb into the blood. He cursed, dropping the dagger and summoning water to clean Hero’s face of their own wounds and blood before they could begin. A soft wind gentle lifted the water from Hero’s skin, leaving it dry and Villain started to paint the sigils onto Hero’s forehead, down their nose and over their lips, their throat, then across to their carotid artery, mumbling spells under his breath.
He unclasped the pauldron from Hero’s shoulders and cut through the rest of Hero’s armour on their chest, or what remained on it… Villain almost gagged at the sight. The slashes and gashes were three inches deep, some carved from Hero’s hip up their chest, ripping and tearing skin.
Villain bit his lip to stop himself from crying out when he summoned the water again to clean Hero’s torso. It didn’t make the wounds better, but the wind came and calmed it again and Villain waited. Sidekick returned, gasping at the wounds on Hero’s chest.
Villain glanced at them over his shoulder and said, “it’s okay. Once we bring them back, they’ll be good as new.”
Sidekick’s grip tightened on the sticks but they nodded. Villain told them to drop the sticks and come here, Sidekick obeyed. They dropped to their knees on the other side of Hero’s body.
Villain handed them the dagger. Sidekick’s eyes widened. “I need your blood. Just stab your hand like I did,” he said, holding his palm up. “I need it for the sigils.”
Sidekick obeyed. Albeit a bit weary. They hissed when they sliced their skin. Villain put their finger in Sidekick’s blood and started drawing the sigils onto Hero’s body.
“What does this do?” Sidekick asked.
“The sigils on Hero’s head will draw from my power, my life force,” Villain explained, dabbing his finger in Sidekick’s blood again. “It will ensure their mind comes back properly and intact, while your blood will fuel Hero’s body. If one of us did both we would die, but if we share the load then we will both be weaker but it won’t trade a life for a life.”
Villain could feel Sidekick’s eyes on him, studying him. “Out with it, kid.”
“You…” they began but cut themselves off. When the sigils were finished Villain looked at them again. The kid’s expression was contorted as if in pain, red burning their cheeks with a blush. “People are wrong about you,” they said. “You’re not a monster.”
Villain chuckled. “Oh I’m plenty monster, Sidekick. It just so happens that our goals align this time.”
Villain stood and said, “keep your hand on Hero’s heart. I need to set up the prayer circle.”
Sidekick nodded. Villain walked to the bundle of sticks that Sidekick gathered and took one. He started with the outer circle, drawing lines in the blood soaked dirt. He could feel the darkness inside of him itching and scratching at his walls, knowing it was so close to coming out. Delighting in the chaos it could reap once released.
You were the light in the darkness…
Villain swallowed. Hero brought him back before. They clawed him back from the edge of darkness. Brought him back to the light, to his body, to himself.
How could he be the light? How could anyone see him as light? And Sidekick… saying he wasn’t a monster.
He swallowed a sob.
He’d do anything to get Hero back. To have Hero in this world. They were the light in the darkness. In the destruction. It was Hero who brought the world back to order, who united the heroes and villains to fight against the threat to the world.
Not Villain.
Villain was false light to Hero’s radiance.
And Hero called him light…
He just hoped that Hero would forgive him someday.
Villain planted the last stake on the sigil on the ground. “I need you to cut your palms again and set them over Hero’s heart.”
Sidekick did so.
“Good. Now I need you to repeat these words after me,” Villain said and he told Sidekick the spell. Sidekick repeated the words. Villain nodded.
“Is that it?”
“Yes. Thank you,” Villain said softly. He lifted a hand and branches ignited like torches. The symbol he carved into the ground glowed a bright cyan blue.
Villain repeated the words outside the sigil while Sidekick grunted. Sidekick pulled back, sitting back on their heels but they couldn’t remove their hands from Hero’s chest.
“Villain… Villain?! What’s happening?”
Villain walked around the circle to face Sidekick. He dropped to a crouch beyond the lines of the sigil. The altar. Sidekick tried to pull back again and gasped, their body folding in on itself.
“No guilt, Sidekick,” Villain said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Just like I promised. You won’t have Hero’s blood on your hands.”
Sidekick pulled back, their face morphing as horrified understanding dawned on them. “No! NO! You said that we would share the burden.”
“And we do. I have to sacrifice myself to my power, you have to sacrifice your life. Your blood will feed their body. Give them life. You said it yourself, you were weak anyways.”
Sidekick was sobbing now between the weakening aches as their body transferred their life force into Hero’s body. Villain met Sidekick’s gaze. “I told you, Sidekick. I am plenty monster. And I would do anything for Hero. Including killing their protégé. If you hadn’t been such a coward I wouldn’t have to do this.”
Sidekick grew weaker and weaker as the spell took hold. Hero’s body began to glow with a golden-white light, almost blinding in the darkness, like a sun in the night sky illuminating everything. Chasing shadows.
That’s what Hero was.
A sun.
A ball of light.
What Villain was doing was right.
He wished he could kiss Hero one last time, but it was time. Time for him to go away, to bring Hero back.
He uncorked the leash on his power.
Back again, Villain? A high pitched voice sneered.
Admit it, darling, another cooed, you missed us.
“I won’t release you until you agree to bring Hero back,” Villain said through clenched teeth.
Of course, of course, a chorus echoed.
I always liked that Hero, one of them growled. So dashing and bright.
“Hero is off limits. Everything else is yours.” Villain said. He took a breath. “Do we have a deal?”
DEAL!
Villain disappeared as the shadows inside him took over, cold like slithering snakes as the monsters within him overtook his mind, blinding him and pushing his consciousness into the back of his mind so he could only observe them when he was conscious.
He remained so while they brought Hero back with a strike of red lightning upon the ground of the sigil. The current sparked the branches which ignited the sigil and Sidekick collapsed over Hero’s body, their hands finally able to move.
That was all they allowed Villain to see before he felt a very distant part of himself come alive. The wings jabbed out like fists from his spine and uncurled themselves into the sleek black, bat-like wings. He could sense the coldness of the blood from the wound on his back, but he couldn’t feel it.
The darkness took to the sky, shrieking in delight and Villain’s consciousness fell away into darkness, sinking down, down, deeper into oblivion.
*~*~*~*~*
Hero woke to the sound of shrill screams. Their body ached as they came to, as if they had been fighting for a week straight without breaks.
They… their head was foggy muddied as they stared at the thunder clouds. Their body unresponsive. They turned their head, searching for him. Sure he would be somewhere near. To tell Hero what happened. They couldn’t… they couldn’t remember what happened.
They felt something heavy on them but Hero couldn’t even move their neck enough to look down at who was there. They saw a flash of dark wings in the sky riding the lightning before darkness claimed them and Hero passed out again.
Love is one of the palliative responses to the blessing/curse of human individuality, one of whose attributes is loneliness. […] All love has a touch of anthropophagic impulse. All lovers want to dominate, eliminate, and cleanse the troublesome difference that separates them from their beloved.
El amor es una de las respuestas paliativas a la bendición/maldición de la individualidad humana, uno de cuyos atributos es la soledad. […] Todo amor tiene un toque de impulso antropofágico. Todos los amantes quieren dominar, eliminar y limpiar la molesta diferencia que los separa del amado.
Separation is the lover's most intense fear. What better way to achieve this than to make the beloved an inseparable part of oneself? Wherever you go, I go; whatever you do, I do; whatever I accept, you accept; whatever I hate, you will hate. If you can't be my Siamese twin… be my clone!
La separación es el miedo más intenso del amante, ¿Qué mejor manera de lograr eso que convertir al amado en parte inseparable? A donde vayas, voy; lo que hagas, lo hago; lo que yo acepte, tú lo aceptas; lo que yo odie, tú lo odiarás. Si no puedes ser mi gemelo siamés… ¡sé mi clon!
