#konzipieren

[ingeniouslyfowl]

konzipieren

       He glances up and over-- something?-- someone.        Glazed eyes finally refocus after a    l o n g   rest,         finally seeing humanity after visions of the stars.

                            "Ah. Company-- do tell.                              Is travel into the fourth                              dimension possible?"

[ilmxstro]

ღ WINK S

Send ღ for a LOVE/SEXUALITY headcanon.

Dr. Lecter’s romantic and sexual orientations can best be described as demiromantic-pansexual. Demiromantic means that he does not always experience romantic attraction, and in fact seldom does at all except to individuals with whom he first establishes a close intellectual bond. He does not seek romantic attachments and does not pine for romance in times where it is lacking. Demiromantic is an orientation that sits on the cusp of being aromantic and lacking all romantic attraction and any potential therefor, but makes exception based off of not only attachment, but also mood, so to speak. As such, there are days where he does not feel romantic attraction at all. His pansexuality can be described as a sexual attraction towards the human condition. Constructs of gender are inconsequential to him, and he finds that most of his attraction in this respect, much like his romantic inclinations, stems from an intellectual base.

This established, he is a dominant personality both romantically and sexually, but maintains preference for those of whom challenge his dominance. His tastes and preferences in a sexual regard can be described as somewhat deranged, but that’s a headcanon for another occasion.

[terraefil]

★ established communication with konzipieren

          ❝I couldn't help but notice--that's a Quantico security             badge you're wearing! If you have access to the             academy headquarters, that must mean...YOU'RE             AN FBI AGENT!! Oh man, this is great, I've been             waiting years for a real opportunity to speak with             one of you guys! I'm Dib, nice to meet you! I actually             called the FBI just last week, but every time I call             there seems to be some issue with the connection.             Maybe you guys need to get a repairman out to look             at your phones or something.❞

          ❝Anyhow, I've been trying to report an ALIEN,             a REAL LIVE ALIEN, at my school!!❞

[tentatherapist-archive-blog]

konzipieren  liked this for a starter

        ❝ could you stop being an total fucking enigma          for, like, five seconds? ❞

                          the thing about anything involving will graham                           is that, as far as she can tell, he is as weird,                           if not weirder, than she is. it makes conversations                           with him incredibly difficult to have, not to mention                           ridiculously annoying and painfully pointless. if only                           they could find a common ground --

        ❝ rephrase that. in english, this time, preferably. ❞

[unreapable-blog]

' you can't fix this. '

❝ Yes, I can. ❞

she can fix anything if she tries hard enough. works hard enough. concentrates hard enough. destruction is as much progenitor of change as creation is, & mandy holds both in spades.

( she can fix him, if she wanted. all of him. every crackling synapse & dendrite. or is this just another lie she's told herself for his sake? that he can be fixed. that she wants him fixed. )

no. she likes him like this: bloody & broken & dependent on the devils perched on his trembling shoulders. she & doctor lecter, hand & hand, watching as will graham ( a good man. a lonely man. ) danced closer & closer to that razor-lined edge known only as insanity.

she loves him in pieces, bruised & battered & bitter -- but not weak. not shaking like his bones have become jelly, eyelids fluttering rapidly against increasingly prominent cheek bones, visage contorting in ... confusion. anger. grief. relief ?

a flick of the wrist has her fingers sliding into his, coaxing the ruby-dripping knife from caustic grip. blood smears to the wrist ; still she does not let go, even as she moves, leading him into his kitchen. the blade is dropped into the sink, & with slight squeeze she releases him briefly to fill the basin with hot water & bleach. she rinses his hands in the faucet & leaves the wicked tool to soak, fishing bandages from a cupboard to begin the slow process of bandaging his wounds.

( it's like embalming, it is. the will graham she knew but a year ago is dying. one of these days, she'll have to put him down -- & it will be the most generous act she'll ever perform. let it never be said the child won't kill out of mercy. )

❝ I can fix everything and anything -- butt there's nothing for me to fix, Will. ❞

a brush against bleeding forehead. he hisses, attempts to recoil, but she holds him still, forcing him to accept her touch. she's as dirty & grimy as he is, physical reminders of the grave they've just dug in tandem, dumping the remainders of the man's body deep in the woods. a reminder of the sensual thrill that arched against her spine at the ugly gurgle of blood that had pooled from the man's gaping mouth ; the cold enthusiasm playing along will's forearms as he'd gutted & cleaned & murdered. 

( 'i'm a good fisher-man, mandy. hunter too.' )

(  ❝  Not animals, Will. People. You hunt people. ❞ )

❝  This is what happens when you hold back your demons: they come out all at once and get you into trouble. But there's nothing wrong with you; this is your talent. You have a flair for sinning. This is your design.  ❞

[ilmxstro]

konzipieren

        Dr. Lecter is a nocturnal creature, by and far. He thrives at night and needs very little sleep to maintain enough energy to go through the motions. In fact, most of his best work transpires at night; and the much beloved Will Graham was no exception to that rule.

        Driving at an even sixty miles per hour on the highway that connected Maryland to Virginia and thus Baltimore to Wolftrap, Dr. Lecter hummed quietly along as many pianists do to the tune of Bach on his car stereo. Rain pounding the windscreen and temperature reading below fifty on the console, he mused that tonight must be an especially evil night for the wanderings of a confused empath.

        He'd been told that somewhere along this very road, past where there were lamps to light the way, Will Graham had awoken with his phone already in hand, dialing Hannibal's number. Suffice to say that Dr. Lecter wasted no time in coming to collect his latest charge.

        And when his soaked, lean frame illuminated in the headlights, Dr. Lecter wasted no time in pulling over fully. Rather, he keyed off the car, emerged, removed his overcoat, and moved to drape it over the profiler.

        "You'll catch your death!" No courtesy was afforded William and his probable discomfort with physical contact; with one arm around the lad's shoulders, the doctor was herding him in to the passenger's seat, where a dry, warm seat awaited him.

[quitethehumanitarian-archiv-blog]

    "Don't you worry, I'm staying here."

[quitethehumanitarian-archiv-blog]

☁

send me a “☁” and i will put my itunes on shuffle

Don't You Worry - Lucy Rose