Itsbookishbutterfly - Olivia - Tumblr Blog

I want to just fall into someones arms and let them take care of me, to tell me everything is going to be all right. I can't do that, I have to stand for myself, I have to make sure I keep going. There's no more time to stop.

I'm looking for fellow Marikhai x Samson or Orlith x Samson shippers. I've almost finished the monstrous series, I'm currently reading the collection of short stories. I want each of them to have a book. But I was thinking maybe they could have a book together. I don't know......anyone?

When you're touched starved but terrified to ask for it... It hurts.

Anyone else kinda want a fic about Hannigram where it's their first time and Hannibal does something that makes it click in Will's brain mid fuck. And in the moment he just gasps out "Fuck me, Ripper!", or something dirty along those lines so Hannibal knows he knows and Hannibal goes a little mad and absolutely destroys Will. Anyone?....... No just me, okay. 😁

This is something short and sweet... And 'Terrifyingly Beautiful' (I've got it on my AO3 under "Terrifyingly Beautiful" by itsbookishbutterfly)

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I'm getting a new patient today. He's absolutely beautiful from the research I've done on him. It's his first appointment today. When he arrives he looks hesitant. Eyes everywhere but mine. He's looking somewhere near my chin when he says, "Hello, Dr. Lecter.", in a smooth voice with a wisp of a memory of a southern drawl. "It's nice to finally meet you, Dr. Graham.", I say.

-

Something about his voice makes me want to look him in the eyes, it's got a certain calculated indifference to it. I know I shouldn't, it tends to unnerve people. Slowly my eyes raise, of their own accord. When I meet his eyes I feel myself turn to stone. The images that hit me are so beautiful and dark they scare the absolute shit out of me but I want to revel in the blood soaked warmth of them. Poetry and art in human form. Shit.

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He freezes when he meets my eyes. His face, nothing more than a blank image. He shakes his head and his eyes dart away from mine. "I'm sorry, I'm about to be terribly rude but I've got to go now.", he says in a shaky voice.

"Are you alright, Will?", I ask in my calm, doctor voice. He steps back ready to turn to walk to the door.

"That's a beautiful suit, Dr. Lecter." He says softly, almost reverent.

Slightly confused with the change in trajectory of this conversation I say, "Thank you, Will. It's Italian." Will stops and looks into my eyes intensely for a moment before saying quietly, "That's not the suit I was talking about, Dr. Lecter."

-

I walk away calmly leaving Dr. Lecter standing as still as a Greek sculpture. My heart is pounding with what feels suspiciously like excitement. Words floating around in my head, bespoke, tragically beautiful, stunning darkness, elegant horror, graceful artist,... Lonely.

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I want a fic about Daryl cleaning Rick up after he takes a bite outta Joe... They had that cute little moment afterwards.