I'm back :) just got to clean up my theme and stuff.

roma★
AnasAbdin
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

No title available

@theartofmadeline

Kaledo Art
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
todays bird
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

JVL
d e v o n

Love Begins
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KIROKAZE

Discoholic 🪩
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Janaina Medeiros
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

seen from Austria

seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
seen from T1
seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
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@underxfever
I'm back :) just got to clean up my theme and stuff.
"Hannibal...." Marilyn whispered, eyes on his. It had been years since she left- since they had agreed to split, but now she saw him- and everything came rushing back. Her feelings- God he was her everything. She wanted nothing more than him. Nothing. She had pushed that all away- she had forgotten- now she could hardly hide away the overwhelming feelings crashing over her.
Amongst the crowd in the ballroom, he heard a whisper. He smelt a familiar scent. Nostalgic. Something which was familiar and yet, he had not smelt the scent for years. His head turned until his eyes fixed and settled on hers. Marilyn. He had not seen her for years. They had agreed to split. His inability to provide what she needed from him, had caused issues. He was not the emotional sort. He was not extremely affectionate. And beyond everything, he could, and was, very, very violent.
“What are you doing here?” He breathed in a metallic rasp. His hand, that was holding a glass of champagne, slowly put it down on the nearest table. His movements always regal…slow, and steady. As if he were always ready to pounce on his prey. “You look…just as you always have.” Beautiful. He mused as his crimson hues stared with an intensity at her. A slow, very small, almost unnoticeable smile creeping on the edge of his lips. Faint. No one else except Marilyn supposedly would notice it. But then again, he wanted no one else to see it except her.
He slowly moved nearer to her across the room - the crowd disappearing as he focused purely on her. He soon stood before her in his tuxedo, his crimson hues on hers as he spoke, “Are you here alone?”
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
At those words the room seemed to fall silent for Hannibal. All his senses disengaged and he just seemed to stare blankly at Marilyn as his mind whirrled fast in an attempt to find a logical answer and response.
He thought for a moment that perhaps she could be lying. That this was a conversation to distract him or to lure him back to a life of…normality. Yet he recalled when he left, two years and three months ago…making the child precisely the correct age.
Hannibal drew his hand away from Marilyn’s. An act that he did out of wishing not to be touched simply because he did not know what to do nor say. It was very strange for him to feel this way. He always had answers. “A child?” He repeated. He had never wanted children. Based on his own childhood he did not think he would be the right…man. The right father to be any sort of rolemodel. “I didn’t need to know this Marilyn.” Hannibal said almost coldly. “I can’t be a Father to a…child. No. We mustn’t speak of this.”
“What are you talking about?” She snipped, watching him withdraw from her. “Of course you needed to know- you’re a part of him.” She calmed herself and spoke gently once more, placing her palms down on the table, eyes still on him. “Hannibal… you are the father to him- you couldn’t deny him if you tried to. He looks and acts just like you. The only difference is that he’s a mommas boy.” She said softly, a small smile on her lips at the thought of her son. “You’d get along.” She said with a tender voice, eyes on him. “You should meet him.” She insisted.
Hannibal did not like that thought. The fact that his…this boy…behaved and looked like him. The thought of meeting him put Hannibal on edge. He was not a man who was good around children. Nor did he want to meet the boy and influence his life in anyway. It was the least he could do. “I do not want him to know that I am his Father.” Hannibal told her sternly. “Marilyn, it will do the boy no good.”
“Well he doesn’t have to know you’re his father. Just meet him.” She said, reaching for his hand again. “Hannibal- I know you’ll love him. He can already read- he’s so smart… he’s not like other kids.” She spoke softly, wanting so desperately for her son to have a man in his life…. a man like him. Not like Dean or Frank- like him. Like Hannibal.
Hannibal was uncertain. She was telling him things about the boy that were...similar to himself. It did sound like the boy was smart, intelligent. Hannibal did not wish to have a relationship immediately with the boy...he was not used to such a thing. “I’ll meet him. But I want no expectations from your side on this.” Hannibal told her sternly, his voice a husk as he looked at the woman he had once been with.
"Hannibal...." Marilyn whispered, eyes on his. It had been years since she left- since they had agreed to split, but now she saw him- and everything came rushing back. Her feelings- God he was her everything. She wanted nothing more than him. Nothing. She had pushed that all away- she had forgotten- now she could hardly hide away the overwhelming feelings crashing over her.
Amongst the crowd in the ballroom, he heard a whisper. He smelt a familiar scent. Nostalgic. Something which was familiar and yet, he had not smelt the scent for years. His head turned until his eyes fixed and settled on hers. Marilyn. He had not seen her for years. They had agreed to split. His inability to provide what she needed from him, had caused issues. He was not the emotional sort. He was not extremely affectionate. And beyond everything, he could, and was, very, very violent.
“What are you doing here?” He breathed in a metallic rasp. His hand, that was holding a glass of champagne, slowly put it down on the nearest table. His movements always regal…slow, and steady. As if he were always ready to pounce on his prey. “You look…just as you always have.” Beautiful. He mused as his crimson hues stared with an intensity at her. A slow, very small, almost unnoticeable smile creeping on the edge of his lips. Faint. No one else except Marilyn supposedly would notice it. But then again, he wanted no one else to see it except her.
He slowly moved nearer to her across the room - the crowd disappearing as he focused purely on her. He soon stood before her in his tuxedo, his crimson hues on hers as he spoke, “Are you here alone?”
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
At those words the room seemed to fall silent for Hannibal. All his senses disengaged and he just seemed to stare blankly at Marilyn as his mind whirrled fast in an attempt to find a logical answer and response.
He thought for a moment that perhaps she could be lying. That this was a conversation to distract him or to lure him back to a life of…normality. Yet he recalled when he left, two years and three months ago…making the child precisely the correct age.
Hannibal drew his hand away from Marilyn’s. An act that he did out of wishing not to be touched simply because he did not know what to do nor say. It was very strange for him to feel this way. He always had answers. “A child?” He repeated. He had never wanted children. Based on his own childhood he did not think he would be the right…man. The right father to be any sort of rolemodel. “I didn’t need to know this Marilyn.” Hannibal said almost coldly. “I can’t be a Father to a…child. No. We mustn’t speak of this.”
“What are you talking about?” She snipped, watching him withdraw from her. “Of course you needed to know- you’re a part of him.” She calmed herself and spoke gently once more, placing her palms down on the table, eyes still on him. “Hannibal… you are the father to him- you couldn’t deny him if you tried to. He looks and acts just like you. The only difference is that he’s a mommas boy.” She said softly, a small smile on her lips at the thought of her son. “You’d get along.” She said with a tender voice, eyes on him. “You should meet him.” She insisted.
Hannibal did not like that thought. The fact that his...this boy...behaved and looked like him. The thought of meeting him put Hannibal on edge. He was not a man who was good around children. Nor did he want to meet the boy and influence his life in anyway. It was the least he could do. "I do not want him to know that I am his Father." Hannibal told her sternly. "Marilyn, it will do the boy no good."
secret relationship .
painful
“ it’s — getting a bit out of hand now. ”
“ i don’t think i can keep this up much longer. ”
“ i’m getting tired of hiding…”
“ it sucks that i can’t kiss you in public. ”
“ how much longer do i have to keep swallowing my desires for you. ”
“ are you sure we will — ? ”
“ do you think we’ll ever… be a couple-couple ? ”
“ sometimes i’m just scared that you’re just using me. ”
“ it’s starting to dawn on me that… the reason you might not want to come out about this is because you don’t really love me—”
“ is this a joke to you?”
“ i deleted all our texts. ”
“ i can’t keep pictures of us on my phone, are you crazy? ”
“ if anyone sees us i won’t know what to do. ”
“ sometimes it feels like i am the only one doing an effort here… ”
provoked
“ aren’t we suppose to be a thing ? why are you flirting then ?”
“ sometimes it feels like i am the only one doing an effort here —”
“ you sure seem to be good at ignoring the fact that we’re together. ”
“ okay no — i can’t handle the way they keep staring at you. ”
“ if they don’t stop hitting you up i’ll end up hitting them down. ”
“ don’t you see any pride in the marks i left on you ? ”
“ is this a joke to you — ?!”
“ stop that — we’re in public. ”
“ no, not until we get home. ”
“ you know i can’t do this out here — stop it!”
“ could TRY to show that you’re a little worried about this ???”
steamy
“ d—-don’t make me moan, i don’t want anyone to catch us… ”
“ everyone is downstairs… ~ take your pants off ”
“ shhh…. ~ it’ll be fine baby, no one will hear us ”
“ so what ? ~ if they see us coming out together we’ll figure something out…”
“ i’m gonna leave so many hickeys on you… show everyone that you’re taken… ”
“ i missed your scent…”
“ it feels so good — being close to again… ”
“ i’ve been thinking — about this the entire day… ”
“ ~ sit back and let me spoil you… you went an entire day without touching me… ”
“ kiss me… and don’t let me go ”
“ you’re like a forbidden fruit when i can’t touch you ~ kind of sexy ”
innocent
“ i can’t wait to show you off to the entire world… ”
“ we’ll be the cutest couple in existence, someday ”
“ when we come out i’m going to drown you kisses every day ”
“ ~ if we carve our initials in a tree no one will know ”
“ no one will notice if we hold hands under the table ~ ”
“ one day… we’ll be able to kiss like everyone else ”
“ i long for the day i get to hug you in the open ”
"Hannibal...." Marilyn whispered, eyes on his. It had been years since she left- since they had agreed to split, but now she saw him- and everything came rushing back. Her feelings- God he was her everything. She wanted nothing more than him. Nothing. She had pushed that all away- she had forgotten- now she could hardly hide away the overwhelming feelings crashing over her.
Amongst the crowd in the ballroom, he heard a whisper. He smelt a familiar scent. Nostalgic. Something which was familiar and yet, he had not smelt the scent for years. His head turned until his eyes fixed and settled on hers. Marilyn. He had not seen her for years. They had agreed to split. His inability to provide what she needed from him, had caused issues. He was not the emotional sort. He was not extremely affectionate. And beyond everything, he could, and was, very, very violent.
“What are you doing here?” He breathed in a metallic rasp. His hand, that was holding a glass of champagne, slowly put it down on the nearest table. His movements always regal…slow, and steady. As if he were always ready to pounce on his prey. “You look…just as you always have.” Beautiful. He mused as his crimson hues stared with an intensity at her. A slow, very small, almost unnoticeable smile creeping on the edge of his lips. Faint. No one else except Marilyn supposedly would notice it. But then again, he wanted no one else to see it except her.
He slowly moved nearer to her across the room - the crowd disappearing as he focused purely on her. He soon stood before her in his tuxedo, his crimson hues on hers as he spoke, “Are you here alone?”
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
At those words the room seemed to fall silent for Hannibal. All his senses disengaged and he just seemed to stare blankly at Marilyn as his mind whirrled fast in an attempt to find a logical answer and response.
He thought for a moment that perhaps she could be lying. That this was a conversation to distract him or to lure him back to a life of...normality. Yet he recalled when he left, two years and three months ago...making the child precisely the correct age.
Hannibal drew his hand away from Marilyn's. An act that he did out of wishing not to be touched simply because he did not know what to do nor say. It was very strange for him to feel this way. He always had answers. "A child?" He repeated. He had never wanted children. Based on his own childhood he did not think he would be the right...man. The right father to be any sort of rolemodel. "I didn't need to know this Marilyn." Hannibal said almost coldly. "I can't be a Father to a...child. No. We mustn't speak of this."
"Hannibal...." Marilyn whispered, eyes on his. It had been years since she left- since they had agreed to split, but now she saw him- and everything came rushing back. Her feelings- God he was her everything. She wanted nothing more than him. Nothing. She had pushed that all away- she had forgotten- now she could hardly hide away the overwhelming feelings crashing over her.
Amongst the crowd in the ballroom, he heard a whisper. He smelt a familiar scent. Nostalgic. Something which was familiar and yet, he had not smelt the scent for years. His head turned until his eyes fixed and settled on hers. Marilyn. He had not seen her for years. They had agreed to split. His inability to provide what she needed from him, had caused issues. He was not the emotional sort. He was not extremely affectionate. And beyond everything, he could, and was, very, very violent.
“What are you doing here?” He breathed in a metallic rasp. His hand, that was holding a glass of champagne, slowly put it down on the nearest table. His movements always regal…slow, and steady. As if he were always ready to pounce on his prey. “You look…just as you always have.” Beautiful. He mused as his crimson hues stared with an intensity at her. A slow, very small, almost unnoticeable smile creeping on the edge of his lips. Faint. No one else except Marilyn supposedly would notice it. But then again, he wanted no one else to see it except her.
He slowly moved nearer to her across the room - the crowd disappearing as he focused purely on her. He soon stood before her in his tuxedo, his crimson hues on hers as he spoke, “Are you here alone?”
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
Marilyn smiled at how the edges of his lips turned up ever so slightly. That was as much as he allowed himself to smile… ever. She always had that effect on him though. Her eyes flitted between his eyes and his lips, heart beating quickly.
“I- the museum curator invited me, he thought I’d like it… I only came because it reminded me-“ she hesitated before letting the rest of the sentence tumble out. “Of you.” She said softly, one hand clutching her champagne, the other resisting the painfully strong urge to stroke his cheek, fix his hair, grab his arm…
“What are you doing here?” She asked, a grin on her lips as she gazed up at him. Her dazzling smile practically glimmering in the dim lighting of the museum. “You look so well, are you working out?” She asked, a bit shocked. He was an older man, yet his core seemed more toned, arms a bit bigger to… he was slimmed down and bulked- odd.
Hannibal looked at the woman he had not seen for a long time. Her words made him realise that she had thought about him. And often - it seemed. He remained stood with a distance from her. The smile on his face faded as quickly as it came, turning stern and almost withdrawn in his expression once again.
“I like art, Marilyn. They have art influenced by Dante…so I came along.” Hannibal told her as if he need not explain anything further. His favourite book, Dantes Inferno, had art inspired in the museum. He looked at her with his crimson hues at her next question. Working out. He wondered how to take the phrase.
He exercised daily. As everyone should, he believed. To keep his levels of fitness up. Plus it helped to have strength among his victims. “Only my regular routine, Marilyn. It’s good to keep fit.” Hannibal said in his metallic rasp of a voice. He looked over her shoulder briefly, seeing a woman in the distance whom he had his eye on originally. Another reason he had attended the event. “You must excuse me, I have business to attend to.” The Cannibal stated, looking back at the woman he had once found himself living with. In the arms of. “Keep smiling though, Marilyn. It suits you.”
“I thought of you when I was invited, I knew you’d love it…” she was almost wordless. She couldn’t believe he was here. Right in front of her. The man she loved more than her own life.
“I- Hannibal no- wait” she whimpered, grabbing at his arm. “I- I don’t want you to go already…. stay.” She begged.
Hannibal felt his arm grabbed and looked around at Marilyn with his maroon hues.He knew that he was not here to see Marilyn. And yet here she was, begging him to stay. His eyes looked away from her, he had lost the woman in the crowd. He looked back at Marilyn, “Fine.” He sighed. “But…temporarily. Not forever.”
Marilyn frowned at his reply and shook her head. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” She asked, hurt that he acted like it was a task to stay and talk with her. To chat. All she wanted was more time to catch up… to tell him about… the little boy he didn’t know existed. She could never find him to tell him. She had no idea where he went after they agreed to separate- he was so good at erasing himself… disappearing.
Hannibal was not a man who took entiment in a person’s presence. He had not seen Marilyn in what felt like a lifetime, and yet, it seemed he was almost on edge with her. On guard as he always had been, and even moreso now. He wondered how he could possibl reply to her question. She looked…upset that he was staying with her out of a desire for her to get him to stay. “Of course I am…but this is…unexpected.” The monster looked at her with his maroon eyes and observed her, studied her. He knew her so well, and it felt as though even when he tried t disappear, he could not erase his feelings or care for her. “Perhaps, we should sit down. We can…talk then. Yes?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot to tell you, Hannibal.” She said tenderly, reaching up to stroke his cheek, but stopped herself, realizing he probably didn’t want a scene- or for his date to see. She froze and dropped her hand. She looked down for a moment before looking back up at him. “Sorry- it’s just hard not to touch you.”
They found a nice table away from the noise and the bustle of people. “Hannibal- I’ve kind of got something big to tell you…” she admitted, looking down at her hands and fidgeting with her nails.
Hannibal looked at the woman who loved him. Their relationship had been a peculiar one. He had somehow attracted this woman to him and he could not help but to think that he had felt something deeply for her too. Perhaps it was love. He felt something for her even now...but his mind, full of logic but lack of feeling...made it hard for him to consider if that feeling was love. He supposed it was.
As he sat with her privately, his crimson eyes studied her face. She looked the same as she had before. And yet when she spoke...she looked tense. "Big?" He asked. "Then tell me. You know I hate suspense." The cannibal told her, as he already tried to postulate what she was going to say to him. She was engaged to another man? In love? He had not watched many romantic movies...but that was usually the premise, and so it was how he tried to guess.
"Hannibal...." Marilyn whispered, eyes on his. It had been years since she left- since they had agreed to split, but now she saw him- and everything came rushing back. Her feelings- God he was her everything. She wanted nothing more than him. Nothing. She had pushed that all away- she had forgotten- now she could hardly hide away the overwhelming feelings crashing over her.
Amongst the crowd in the ballroom, he heard a whisper. He smelt a familiar scent. Nostalgic. Something which was familiar and yet, he had not smelt the scent for years. His head turned until his eyes fixed and settled on hers. Marilyn. He had not seen her for years. They had agreed to split. His inability to provide what she needed from him, had caused issues. He was not the emotional sort. He was not extremely affectionate. And beyond everything, he could, and was, very, very violent.
“What are you doing here?” He breathed in a metallic rasp. His hand, that was holding a glass of champagne, slowly put it down on the nearest table. His movements always regal…slow, and steady. As if he were always ready to pounce on his prey. “You look…just as you always have.” Beautiful. He mused as his crimson hues stared with an intensity at her. A slow, very small, almost unnoticeable smile creeping on the edge of his lips. Faint. No one else except Marilyn supposedly would notice it. But then again, he wanted no one else to see it except her.
He slowly moved nearer to her across the room - the crowd disappearing as he focused purely on her. He soon stood before her in his tuxedo, his crimson hues on hers as he spoke, “Are you here alone?”
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
Marilyn smiled at how the edges of his lips turned up ever so slightly. That was as much as he allowed himself to smile… ever. She always had that effect on him though. Her eyes flitted between his eyes and his lips, heart beating quickly.
“I- the museum curator invited me, he thought I’d like it… I only came because it reminded me-“ she hesitated before letting the rest of the sentence tumble out. “Of you.” She said softly, one hand clutching her champagne, the other resisting the painfully strong urge to stroke his cheek, fix his hair, grab his arm…
“What are you doing here?” She asked, a grin on her lips as she gazed up at him. Her dazzling smile practically glimmering in the dim lighting of the museum. “You look so well, are you working out?” She asked, a bit shocked. He was an older man, yet his core seemed more toned, arms a bit bigger to… he was slimmed down and bulked- odd.
Hannibal looked at the woman he had not seen for a long time. Her words made him realise that she had thought about him. And often - it seemed. He remained stood with a distance from her. The smile on his face faded as quickly as it came, turning stern and almost withdrawn in his expression once again.
“I like art, Marilyn. They have art influenced by Dante…so I came along.” Hannibal told her as if he need not explain anything further. His favourite book, Dantes Inferno, had art inspired in the museum. He looked at her with his crimson hues at her next question. Working out. He wondered how to take the phrase.
He exercised daily. As everyone should, he believed. To keep his levels of fitness up. Plus it helped to have strength among his victims. “Only my regular routine, Marilyn. It’s good to keep fit.” Hannibal said in his metallic rasp of a voice. He looked over her shoulder briefly, seeing a woman in the distance whom he had his eye on originally. Another reason he had attended the event. “You must excuse me, I have business to attend to.” The Cannibal stated, looking back at the woman he had once found himself living with. In the arms of. “Keep smiling though, Marilyn. It suits you.”
“I thought of you when I was invited, I knew you’d love it…” she was almost wordless. She couldn’t believe he was here. Right in front of her. The man she loved more than her own life.
“I- Hannibal no- wait” she whimpered, grabbing at his arm. “I- I don’t want you to go already…. stay.” She begged.
Hannibal felt his arm grabbed and looked around at Marilyn with his maroon hues.He knew that he was not here to see Marilyn. And yet here she was, begging him to stay. His eyes looked away from her, he had lost the woman in the crowd. He looked back at Marilyn, “Fine.” He sighed. “But…temporarily. Not forever.”
Marilyn frowned at his reply and shook her head. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” She asked, hurt that he acted like it was a task to stay and talk with her. To chat. All she wanted was more time to catch up… to tell him about… the little boy he didn’t know existed. She could never find him to tell him. She had no idea where he went after they agreed to separate- he was so good at erasing himself… disappearing.
Hannibal was not a man who took entiment in a person's presence. He had not seen Marilyn in what felt like a lifetime, and yet, it seemed he was almost on edge with her. On guard as he always had been, and even moreso now. He wondered how he could possibl reply to her question. She looked...upset that he was staying with her out of a desire for her to get him to stay. "Of course I am...but this is...unexpected." The monster looked at her with his maroon eyes and observed her, studied her. He knew her so well, and it felt as though even when he tried t disappear, he could not erase his feelings or care for her. "Perhaps, we should sit down. We can...talk then. Yes?"
"Hannibal...." Marilyn whispered, eyes on his. It had been years since she left- since they had agreed to split, but now she saw him- and everything came rushing back. Her feelings- God he was her everything. She wanted nothing more than him. Nothing. She had pushed that all away- she had forgotten- now she could hardly hide away the overwhelming feelings crashing over her.
Amongst the crowd in the ballroom, he heard a whisper. He smelt a familiar scent. Nostalgic. Something which was familiar and yet, he had not smelt the scent for years. His head turned until his eyes fixed and settled on hers. Marilyn. He had not seen her for years. They had agreed to split. His inability to provide what she needed from him, had caused issues. He was not the emotional sort. He was not extremely affectionate. And beyond everything, he could, and was, very, very violent.
“What are you doing here?” He breathed in a metallic rasp. His hand, that was holding a glass of champagne, slowly put it down on the nearest table. His movements always regal…slow, and steady. As if he were always ready to pounce on his prey. “You look…just as you always have.” Beautiful. He mused as his crimson hues stared with an intensity at her. A slow, very small, almost unnoticeable smile creeping on the edge of his lips. Faint. No one else except Marilyn supposedly would notice it. But then again, he wanted no one else to see it except her.
He slowly moved nearer to her across the room - the crowd disappearing as he focused purely on her. He soon stood before her in his tuxedo, his crimson hues on hers as he spoke, “Are you here alone?”
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
Marilyn smiled at how the edges of his lips turned up ever so slightly. That was as much as he allowed himself to smile… ever. She always had that effect on him though. Her eyes flitted between his eyes and his lips, heart beating quickly.
“I- the museum curator invited me, he thought I’d like it… I only came because it reminded me-“ she hesitated before letting the rest of the sentence tumble out. “Of you.” She said softly, one hand clutching her champagne, the other resisting the painfully strong urge to stroke his cheek, fix his hair, grab his arm…
“What are you doing here?” She asked, a grin on her lips as she gazed up at him. Her dazzling smile practically glimmering in the dim lighting of the museum. “You look so well, are you working out?” She asked, a bit shocked. He was an older man, yet his core seemed more toned, arms a bit bigger to… he was slimmed down and bulked- odd.
Hannibal looked at the woman he had not seen for a long time. Her words made him realise that she had thought about him. And often - it seemed. He remained stood with a distance from her. The smile on his face faded as quickly as it came, turning stern and almost withdrawn in his expression once again.
“I like art, Marilyn. They have art influenced by Dante…so I came along.” Hannibal told her as if he need not explain anything further. His favourite book, Dantes Inferno, had art inspired in the museum. He looked at her with his crimson hues at her next question. Working out. He wondered how to take the phrase.
He exercised daily. As everyone should, he believed. To keep his levels of fitness up. Plus it helped to have strength among his victims. “Only my regular routine, Marilyn. It’s good to keep fit.” Hannibal said in his metallic rasp of a voice. He looked over her shoulder briefly, seeing a woman in the distance whom he had his eye on originally. Another reason he had attended the event. “You must excuse me, I have business to attend to.” The Cannibal stated, looking back at the woman he had once found himself living with. In the arms of. “Keep smiling though, Marilyn. It suits you.”
“I thought of you when I was invited, I knew you’d love it…” she was almost wordless. She couldn’t believe he was here. Right in front of her. The man she loved more than her own life.
“I- Hannibal no- wait” she whimpered, grabbing at his arm. “I- I don’t want you to go already…. stay.” She begged.
Hannibal felt his arm grabbed and looked around at Marilyn with his maroon hues.He knew that he was not here to see Marilyn. And yet here she was, begging him to stay. His eyes looked away from her, he had lost the woman in the crowd. He looked back at Marilyn, “Fine.” He sighed. “But...temporarily. Not forever.”
Disappeared. That was the only word to describe his sudden movement out of her life. Out of everyone's life. It wasn't emotional for Hannibal. Nothing was. He simply left one night and never returned. No trace of where he had gone or why. Until one rainy night, he appeared again, standing in the dark corner of the lounge in a place he once shared with her as home. "What's wrong, Marilyn? That isn't the expression one would expect to be met with if they were...missed."
A loud shriek escaped Marilyn’s red lips as she hurled what was in her hand, which happened to be a book, at the voice from the corner. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as her eyes tried hard to adjust to the dark- she knew that voice. She knew it- she knew that form… “Hannibal?” she whispered so softly it was barely heard. “I- You-” she didn’t know what to do- what to say- god she could kill him- or kiss him for years… her body was so conflicted that all she could do was stand and stare in silence.
When she hurled the book at him, he anticipated her movement and stepped with ease to one side so it didn’t hit him in the chest. Not that it would have mattered. Marilyn wasnt one for strength. He doubted very much it would have hurt. But he was not going to stand there either and have the book hit him with any impact. “If you are considering what else to throw, Marilyn, I suggest using more strength when you hurl it in my direction.” Hannibal spoke with that usual metallic rasp as he stepped forward, his eyes focused on her as he neared her slightly. “Speak.” He commanded her, in a deep almost venomous voice. His eyes staring at the woman who sat, stuck seemingly in her position.
She shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes. “Why come back?” She asked in a soft whisper, eyes stuck on him- feeling as though it was another one of her dreams. She had dreamed of his return almost nightly… she had missed him so much- he had just left her. He just left and never told her why, where he was going, what he was doing… nothing. “Why did you leave?” She asked, keeping her distance. She didn’t know if she wanted to attack him or pull him into her arms. She wanted to kiss him- like shed never pull away again. Her heart was racing, breathing was heavy, and tears threatened to spill over, but she did her best to not allow it.
Hannibal could see tears filling her eyes. Each little droplet, covering the lower bottom of the white in her eyes. It was always odd to know someone cared for him seemingly this much. He didn’t care for it. And yet he did. Perhaps too much than his mind wanted to believe. He didn’t care much for the heart - but his heart was moving out of its usual rhythm. Moving with a light skip. “For you.” Hannibal said calmly, his maroon eyes focused on her - settled as he looked at the blonde, curvaceous woman. “That is none of your concern.” Hannibal looked at her, his eyes lingering at her up and down before he stepped even nearer, leaning over the woman as she sat in her chair. “What is your concern, Marilyn, is that I am back. For now.”
“Doesn’t concern me?” Marilyn asked, her breathy voice quivering. She let out an exhausted laugh. “The man I love more than air itself, disappears for no reason at all, for god knows how long it’s been now, and its none of my business?” She asked sharply, looking up at him from where she sat as he loomed over her. “I dreamt of you coming back every night, Hannibal,” she whispered, “the outcome always changed… some nights I’d hit you… others I’d kiss you… most of the nights I welcomed you back with open arms… but sometimes I’d tell you to leave.” she said quietly, looking into his beautiful eyes… god how she had missed them. She didn’t even feel like he was real. She was afraid if she touched him, her hand would pass through him- or she would wake up. “But never did I feel like this.”
“I left to finish a deed, Marilyn. That is why it doesn’t concern you.” He told her in his metallic rasp of a voice. Hannibal knew how she was. Sensitive. She had morals. If she knew what he had been doing, he knew she wouldn’t handle it well. At least, this is what he assumed. He listened to the woman speak. Her feelings for him always were confusing. Seemingly she was dedicated to him. In love. But Hannibal was always confused by that sentiment - love.
“And how do you feel now? Hm?” Doctor Lecter asked her as he looked down at the woman. He almost stared into her soul with the intensity of his maroon hues. He was such a complicated and complex man. Easily he was prone to leaving again. Leaving her. Perhaps for years this time instead of months. He could just disappear into the night again. Why he had returned to her, confused even him. But he didn’t understand love. And he supposed that was why he had returned.
“I am tired, Marilyn.” He breathed. Tired of the conversation. Tired after his long journey back. “So do remain seated if you’re in shock. I do need to…freshen up.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, soft and gentle as if he could never bring any harm to even a fly. A lie of course. He soon began to gently pull away, to move elsewhere.
She felt her stomach flip and flutter at his kiss to her cheek, bringing her out of her trancelike state. Her eyes moved to him as he began to walk away from her. In a quick movement she grabbed his hand and stood from her Hair, movements brisk, pausing only for a moment as she gazed into his eyes that she had missed so desperately, then grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him, passionately, lovingly, angrily, relieved… and making up for all the lost time.
Hannibal thought the actions were slightly unexpected from Marilyn. However, he accepted them. The feeling of her lips crashing against his were pleasant. He had been gone for so long that intimacy had been ignored by him. He had thought he did not need it. Yet here he was, with his hands grabbing at Marilyn’s waist firmly to keep the kiss ongoing. His lips only left hers to whisper a husky, “That’s my girl.” Hannibal grabbed her roughly, too rough, never knowing when gentleness was needed. His hands gripping to her waist and crashing his lips against hers again - enough to make teeth clash. But he was much more careful than that.
She let out a soft and trembling gasp at his words, furrowing her brow as she moved with him, thankful for his toughness, knowing how deeply he had missed her too, now. For her she knew when he had no control, was when he let down his walls. This was one of those times. She could feel his emotions. The pain reminded her of his love, though she was tender. She let out a soft squeak at his surprisingly rough grab, but melted against him as he kissed her, feeling tension drip off of her. Her hands tangled in his thinning hair as she moved against him, having wished for this moment every day since he left.
Doctor Lecter kissed the woman he had not seen in months. A long, long time. He felt his walls come down. Not guarded. He forgot momentarily about ensuring that he could always smell and hear his surroundings for danger like an animal. Instead his mind went blank and all he could think of was Marilyn. He pushed her back against the nearest wall as he kissed her passionately, his hips hit against hers as they stood so close to one another. He was rough. Always not entirely sure how to be gentle. It was something that needed teaching. As he broke the kiss, he bit on her plump lower lip before he growled a natural, “No more questions about where I have been, Marilyn. Just accept that I am back - for you.”
Marilyn let out a soft Moan in reply to his words, and nodded quickly before she pulled his face back to kiss her once more, wild with need for his touch. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, mind lost to him- all she could think, smell, feel, want- was him.
She let out a delicate and shaky breath as he bit her lip, nails digging lightly into his shoulders. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his hips as they bumped, having missed his touch for too long.
Hannibal knew from her actions that words were irrelvant during this specific moment between them. Instead he found himself kissing her, deeply, his mind turning blank as a canvas, only wishing to focus on her and her only at this specific moment in time. When she wrapped her leg around him, he found himself to hoist her up entirely, holding her up and carrying her upstairs - to their bedroom. His lips kissing hers the entire time while he used his strength. It was not certain how long he would be with her, but it seemed they would make the time memorable.
"Hannibal...." Marilyn whispered, eyes on his. It had been years since she left- since they had agreed to split, but now she saw him- and everything came rushing back. Her feelings- God he was her everything. She wanted nothing more than him. Nothing. She had pushed that all away- she had forgotten- now she could hardly hide away the overwhelming feelings crashing over her.
Amongst the crowd in the ballroom, he heard a whisper. He smelt a familiar scent. Nostalgic. Something which was familiar and yet, he had not smelt the scent for years. His head turned until his eyes fixed and settled on hers. Marilyn. He had not seen her for years. They had agreed to split. His inability to provide what she needed from him, had caused issues. He was not the emotional sort. He was not extremely affectionate. And beyond everything, he could, and was, very, very violent.
“What are you doing here?” He breathed in a metallic rasp. His hand, that was holding a glass of champagne, slowly put it down on the nearest table. His movements always regal…slow, and steady. As if he were always ready to pounce on his prey. “You look…just as you always have.” Beautiful. He mused as his crimson hues stared with an intensity at her. A slow, very small, almost unnoticeable smile creeping on the edge of his lips. Faint. No one else except Marilyn supposedly would notice it. But then again, he wanted no one else to see it except her.
He slowly moved nearer to her across the room - the crowd disappearing as he focused purely on her. He soon stood before her in his tuxedo, his crimson hues on hers as he spoke, “Are you here alone?”
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
Marilyn smiled at how the edges of his lips turned up ever so slightly. That was as much as he allowed himself to smile… ever. She always had that effect on him though. Her eyes flitted between his eyes and his lips, heart beating quickly.
“I- the museum curator invited me, he thought I’d like it… I only came because it reminded me-“ she hesitated before letting the rest of the sentence tumble out. “Of you.” She said softly, one hand clutching her champagne, the other resisting the painfully strong urge to stroke his cheek, fix his hair, grab his arm…
“What are you doing here?” She asked, a grin on her lips as she gazed up at him. Her dazzling smile practically glimmering in the dim lighting of the museum. “You look so well, are you working out?” She asked, a bit shocked. He was an older man, yet his core seemed more toned, arms a bit bigger to… he was slimmed down and bulked- odd.
Hannibal looked at the woman he had not seen for a long time. Her words made him realise that she had thought about him. And often - it seemed. He remained stood with a distance from her. The smile on his face faded as quickly as it came, turning stern and almost withdrawn in his expression once again.
"I like art, Marilyn. They have art influenced by Dante...so I came along." Hannibal told her as if he need not explain anything further. His favourite book, Dantes Inferno, had art inspired in the museum. He looked at her with his crimson hues at her next question. Working out. He wondered how to take the phrase.
He exercised daily. As everyone should, he believed. To keep his levels of fitness up. Plus it helped to have strength among his victims. "Only my regular routine, Marilyn. It's good to keep fit." Hannibal said in his metallic rasp of a voice. He looked over her shoulder briefly, seeing a woman in the distance whom he had his eye on originally. Another reason he had attended the event. "You must excuse me, I have business to attend to." The Cannibal stated, looking back at the woman he had once found himself living with. In the arms of. "Keep smiling though, Marilyn. It suits you."
Angsty Sentence Starters
Change them as you see fit.
“Are you running away?”
“Did you ever love me?”
“Don’t tell me that you care.”
“He dumped me.”
“He isn’t coming back.”
“I’m done with losing everyone.”
“I’m heading for a breakdown.”
“I’m sorry, okay?!”
“I can’t let this go.”
“I don’t care anymore.”
“I just fucking miss you.”
“I love you enough to let you go.”
“It’s over now.”
“I wish I could take it back.”
“I wish I knew how to make it right.”
“My head is spinning.”
“My love wasn’t enough.”
“Nothing can be done.”
“Please, say something.”
“Please don’t hurt me!”
“Promise me you’ll try to leave it all behind.”
“Seems like I’m living the wrong life. This isn’t what I want.”
“She just walked away.”
“She swears she’s never coming back again.”
“Someone must get hurt, and it won’t be me.”
“Tell me, what do I have left?”
“The bottle’s always here on the nights that you’re gone.”
“There’s nothing for me here.”
“They fired me.”
“This is it for me. It has to be.”
“This was never personal.”
“We’re better off alone.”
“We both shouldn’t last another day.”
“What have you done?!”
“When she leaves you for dead, you’ll be the last to know.”
“You can’t have us both.”
“You drag me down.”
“You promised you would never take what’s mine.”
“You were the best and worst part of my life.”
Injury Starters
“Whoa, when did you get this?”
“Who did this to you?”
“Hold still— I need to clean it.”
“I’m supposed to believe this was an accident?”
“Damn— I’d hate to see the other guy.”
“Does this hurt when I touch it?”
“What the hell, ___? Another fight?”
“What the hell happened to your face?”
“Why are you so calm about this? You’re really hurt.”
“I think your arm is broken. It’s not supposed to bend like that.”
“Here, let me help you with that.”
“You’re bleeding a lot. Too much. Apply more pressure. I’m calling an ambulance.”
“Did you think I was gonna leave you like this?”
“Instead of helping you, they ran off? What an asshole.”
“You need to be more careful. You keep getting hurt like this and you’ll put yourself out of commission.”
“Let me grab the first-aid kit. Don’t move.”
“So, do you wanna explain to me what the hell happened?”
“You look really pale. Sit down. I don’t need you fainting before I get this stitched-up.”
“I’m not blaming you, I’m just saying this looks awfully suspicious.”
“How many of them were there? This doesn’t look like one man’s doing.”
“Sit still. I need to clean this before it gets infected.”
“Wiggle your fingers. I need to make sure it’s not broken.”
“This is gonna hurt. A lot. But it’ll be quick. I need to pop it back into place.”
“I told you not to act recklessly like that. You might think you’re protecting me, but you’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep jumping in like that.”
“That was really close this time. Too close. Please, promise me you’re gonna listen to me and be more careful in the future.”
⨳ — T.S. ELIOT;
send one for my muse's reaction!
“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” “This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.” “To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man’s life.” “Sometimes things become possible if we want them bad enough.” “Most of the evil in this world is done by people with good intentions.” “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.” “There will be time to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet.” “Humankind cannot bear very much reality.” “You are the music while the music lasts.” “If you haven’t the strength to impose your own terms upon life, then you must accept the terms it offers you.” “What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.” “Books. Cats. Life is good.” “Anxiety is the handmaiden of creativity.” “The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.” “Success is relative. It is what we make of the mess we have made of things.” “For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.” “I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, and I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, and in short, I was afraid.” “There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.” “Humor is also a way of saying something serious.” “This love is silent.” “It’s not wise to violate the rules until you know how to observe them.” “I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.” “We must not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we began and to know the place for the first time.” “We must learn to suffer more.” “Let us go then, you and I, where the evening is spread out against the sky.” “The last temptation is the greatest treason: To do the right deed for the wrong reason.” “All time is irredeemable.” “Destiny waits in the hand of god, shaping the still unshapen..” “But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.” “I see the eyes but not the tears. This is my affliction.” “Your burden is not to clear your conscience, but to learn how to bear the burdens on your conscience.” “All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance.”
Off to a wedding today.
Send me asks, memes, and tag me in starters please.
"Don't worry, I've got you."
Wentworth wasn’t in the right head space to be interviewing the Doctor today. He was in a very dark place. He had not had an episode like this since his teenage years. He was falling with no safety net or support system. His slot for the interview had been booked and there was no way to reschedule. He would lose time he had spent so long getting, he would lose the trust from the doctor he had spent time building. A part of him wanted to be there, he wasn’t expected to be anything other than himself with the doctor. There was no limit to what they could talk about. He found himself planning to complete his piece on the man and then take his own life. He had even considered a way of letting the doctor out and asking him to do it for him, he knew the job would be done correctly that way. He had walked into the room, his eyes low, hardly speaking as he bought out the chess board and blue tack to keep the game pieces in place as they passed the board through the hatch.
He looked up at hearing the words from the other man. He had seen his pain. The first person to notice his change. He found himself feeling strangely comforted by the words. Someone had him. The comfort had not come from a partner, a close friend or a family member but the Doctor, someone who he had grown quite attached to. He had seen him, he was not invisible. He brushed the side of his nose with his thumb as he cleared his throat to speak for the first time since arriving. He knew he couldn’t lie to him, he knew too much about him, he had got under his skin, his life had become entwined with the others. “Thank you” he spoke quietly, his voice echoing around the room in a way that the others didn’t, the doctors voice seamed to take up every inch of the room and go directly to Wentworth like he was absorbing all the energy from the words. Anyone else would not dare to be so vulnerable in front of Hannibal in fear of it being used against them but Wentworth had nothing to lose, he had far too much invested in their relationship. He rubbed his temple for a moment with his eyes closed as he waited for the other man to make the next move. “I apologise If I am not great company today Doctor Lecter, I seam to be mid sky dive and both parachute lines have been cut”.
@underxfever
Wentworth gulped back and took a shaky breath. It was hard to breathe, every attempt felt like the air had thickened like he was choking on it. He nodded to his words and licked his lips as he tried to keep himself together. He found comfort in the Doctors voice, the same voice that people would shudder at and cower from Wentworth found it to be useful. It was sharp and cutting and helped him stay in the moment instead of his mind wondering off.
What was he depressed? How had he become a man who could not cope? Why couldn’t he function? These were questions he asked himself repeatedly when an episode came. “There doesn’t need to be a reason, Its been present with me since I was 5 years old” he mumbled softly.
When the doctor talked about trauma Wentworth took in a breath and held it for a few seconds before letting go. It felt like his heart was aching and he could feel a sickness rising. “I would say my childhood was troubled” he nodded “not normal, they say to you that your best years are in your youth which is only just depressing for me, if that is the best years then I want out” he spoke with bitterness in his voice, a hatred for his past and a hopelessness for his future.
He had lived his life so far feeling like a one man against the world, scraping together whatever strength he could to get through the day.
Hannibal looked at his opponent, seeing how down he ws. He listened to Wentworth quietly, knowing undoubtedly that it seemed Wentworth was going to be in this little mood of his for sometime. The Cannibal thought back to what he would have done to help other patients in the past...but he remembered disembowling, decapitating them, and generally encouraging them to end their own lives. However, with Wentworth he did not want that. He convinced himself it was because he wanted out of these cell walls just for an hour. Not because he liked the man's company of any sort.
"Whoever said that youth was the best years of their life, Wenworth, did not succeed in adulthood." Hannibal mused patiently as he sat back in his chair, looking at the man through the glass. "The best years are surely now - as an accomplished man. Not wandering around like a helpless child." The Doctor told him as he seemed to watch Wentworth closely. Studying him.
"I hope you won't try to kill yourself again, Wentworth." Undoubtedly Hannibal had not been informed that Wentworth had tried suicide in the past, however he saw signs that indicated that this had once been true. "It's your turn. Move your piece." Doctor Lecter commanded indicating with a hand toward the chess board.