Status report 2 and a Red Dragon ficlet
Aug. 31st, 2005 01:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsuru_sanUgh...Grapes of Wrath...soooo boring...
But I found SparkNotes! ^^ I should be so ashamed of myself. *shakes head* *goes off to paraphrase* At least the other book I have to read (Uncle Tom's Cabin) isn't too bad. And since I can't shake off every plotbunny, I bring fic:
Title: Red Riding Hood
Fandom: Red Dragon
Pairing: Hannibal/Will
Rating: PG-13 (for darkness/angst, slash, and a bit of guns ‘n knives ‘n teeth at the end)
Summary: (Kind of AU/about a year post-SotL) Will’s hunting Hannibal…or is Hannibal hunting him?
Notes: This is one of the darker things I’ve written in awhile, and Will’s not exactly all there… I rather like it though; Will is fun when it comes to angst. ^^
London’s frosty, winter wind whistled down the empty streets. An area of two blocks had been sealed off surrounding an old library, and as the weather complained, two groups of both British and American law enforcement cautiously infiltrated the compound. Will Graham stood farther back, coordinating the whole operation from around the center of the street.
Will pulled his jacket closer while the chill whooshed by for the umpteenth time as if in warning. The leather jacket kept him warm though. It was a dark, rich red bordering between wine and blood; not exactly Will’s style, but he liked it.
Hell, none of this was his style, but Will didn’t care. Molly had left him after Dolarhyde was killed, and for a while, it seemed as if the ex-profiler had truly hit rock bottom; that he’d finally lost to the demons plaguing him. Licking his wounds, Will had dragged himself back to Florida…alone. Trying to drown out his nightmares with alcohol, Will Graham was the end result of a broken life.
Until he escaped.
Taking a break from the boat he’d been fixing, Will had gone inside, flipped on the television, and immediately received the headlines and news stories flashing in his face like some practical joke gone obscenely wrong. Eventually the numbness wore off, and once he knew that all the pain—not just physical but emotional too—he’d gone through to get Lecter in custody was entirely for nothing, Will really snapped.
Almost right after Hannibal Lecter’s escape, he’d shocked the FBI—not to mention himself—when he showed up at Jack Crawford’s door demanding to be put on the Lecter case. At first, Jack had agreed wholeheartedly, but soon enough he started to realize that Will might not exactly be in an entirely sane mindset… The younger man became obsessed with catching Hannibal, and Crawford and Dr. Bloom could do nothing but watch and worry about him.
But somehow it all made perfect sense to Will. Subconsciously, perhaps desperately, he felt that Lecter’s capture would equal his release, freedom from his inner-demons, and now a tip from a British policeman had led Will trekking to London, England. Vigilantly, Graham’s searching eyes darted around the quiet block. Except for under the streetlights, the night had doused everything in murky shadow. Not even stars were able to lend their glow since a coming storm had blanketed the sky.
A crack of lightning rang out a ways off as Big Ben sounded that it was eleven o’clock sharp. It would be for the best if everything went down before the rain started. Will signaled to the two other agents that had been left to stand guard with him in front of the building, indicating that they should circle around the back. The two men exchanged hesitant looks before going off in the direction Will had instructed them to.
Alone at last, Graham about-faced and walked out of the middle of the street, the soles of his shoes tapping upon the cobblestones. He stopped on the sidewalk at the mouth of an alley. Turning in another brisk 180, he faced the building Lecter was “supposedly” holed-up in wondering how long it would take before the British police and SWAT team exited empty handed.
Hearing light footsteps behind him, Will also speculated on whether or not he’d live long enough to see their dejected faces. Then he felt hands on him, and all his attention immediately turned to the present as one hand gripped the junction where his neck met his collarbone, and the other rested far more gently on his hip.
“Hello, Red Riding Hood,” the owner of the hands sneered, managing to mock Graham’s coat and greet him at the same time.
The profiler’s hand drifted to the gun holstered at his side. “Hannibal,” he said, voice flat. Will had been expecting the Good Doctor to single him out the first chance he got. He wasn’t surprised when Lecter didn’t answer him either; Hannibal just tightened his grasp and leaned closer, pressing up against the younger man, running the tip of his tongue along the shell of Will’s ear, and briefly nipping him in a perverse display of intimacy.
Will released the safety on his .45 shotgun. “What sharp teeth you have.”
Hannibal chuckled deeply, and Will felt the brush of a blade being held precariously against his throat as Lecter purred, “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”
But I found SparkNotes! ^^ I should be so ashamed of myself. *shakes head* *goes off to paraphrase* At least the other book I have to read (Uncle Tom's Cabin) isn't too bad. And since I can't shake off every plotbunny, I bring fic:
Title: Red Riding Hood
Fandom: Red Dragon
Pairing: Hannibal/Will
Rating: PG-13 (for darkness/angst, slash, and a bit of guns ‘n knives ‘n teeth at the end)
Summary: (Kind of AU/about a year post-SotL) Will’s hunting Hannibal…or is Hannibal hunting him?
Notes: This is one of the darker things I’ve written in awhile, and Will’s not exactly all there… I rather like it though; Will is fun when it comes to angst. ^^
London’s frosty, winter wind whistled down the empty streets. An area of two blocks had been sealed off surrounding an old library, and as the weather complained, two groups of both British and American law enforcement cautiously infiltrated the compound. Will Graham stood farther back, coordinating the whole operation from around the center of the street.
Will pulled his jacket closer while the chill whooshed by for the umpteenth time as if in warning. The leather jacket kept him warm though. It was a dark, rich red bordering between wine and blood; not exactly Will’s style, but he liked it.
Hell, none of this was his style, but Will didn’t care. Molly had left him after Dolarhyde was killed, and for a while, it seemed as if the ex-profiler had truly hit rock bottom; that he’d finally lost to the demons plaguing him. Licking his wounds, Will had dragged himself back to Florida…alone. Trying to drown out his nightmares with alcohol, Will Graham was the end result of a broken life.
Until he escaped.
Taking a break from the boat he’d been fixing, Will had gone inside, flipped on the television, and immediately received the headlines and news stories flashing in his face like some practical joke gone obscenely wrong. Eventually the numbness wore off, and once he knew that all the pain—not just physical but emotional too—he’d gone through to get Lecter in custody was entirely for nothing, Will really snapped.
Almost right after Hannibal Lecter’s escape, he’d shocked the FBI—not to mention himself—when he showed up at Jack Crawford’s door demanding to be put on the Lecter case. At first, Jack had agreed wholeheartedly, but soon enough he started to realize that Will might not exactly be in an entirely sane mindset… The younger man became obsessed with catching Hannibal, and Crawford and Dr. Bloom could do nothing but watch and worry about him.
But somehow it all made perfect sense to Will. Subconsciously, perhaps desperately, he felt that Lecter’s capture would equal his release, freedom from his inner-demons, and now a tip from a British policeman had led Will trekking to London, England. Vigilantly, Graham’s searching eyes darted around the quiet block. Except for under the streetlights, the night had doused everything in murky shadow. Not even stars were able to lend their glow since a coming storm had blanketed the sky.
A crack of lightning rang out a ways off as Big Ben sounded that it was eleven o’clock sharp. It would be for the best if everything went down before the rain started. Will signaled to the two other agents that had been left to stand guard with him in front of the building, indicating that they should circle around the back. The two men exchanged hesitant looks before going off in the direction Will had instructed them to.
Alone at last, Graham about-faced and walked out of the middle of the street, the soles of his shoes tapping upon the cobblestones. He stopped on the sidewalk at the mouth of an alley. Turning in another brisk 180, he faced the building Lecter was “supposedly” holed-up in wondering how long it would take before the British police and SWAT team exited empty handed.
Hearing light footsteps behind him, Will also speculated on whether or not he’d live long enough to see their dejected faces. Then he felt hands on him, and all his attention immediately turned to the present as one hand gripped the junction where his neck met his collarbone, and the other rested far more gently on his hip.
“Hello, Red Riding Hood,” the owner of the hands sneered, managing to mock Graham’s coat and greet him at the same time.
The profiler’s hand drifted to the gun holstered at his side. “Hannibal,” he said, voice flat. Will had been expecting the Good Doctor to single him out the first chance he got. He wasn’t surprised when Lecter didn’t answer him either; Hannibal just tightened his grasp and leaned closer, pressing up against the younger man, running the tip of his tongue along the shell of Will’s ear, and briefly nipping him in a perverse display of intimacy.
Will released the safety on his .45 shotgun. “What sharp teeth you have.”
Hannibal chuckled deeply, and Will felt the brush of a blade being held precariously against his throat as Lecter purred, “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”
no subject
Date: 2005-08-31 06:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 02:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-31 07:46 pm (UTC)and as the weather complained, two groups of both British and American law enforcement cautiously infiltrated the compound.
I -love- the human quality added to the weather. Makes the police force that much more unwelcome. It's like 'you. get out of the story. let the men haff their library!kinks.'
It was a dark, rich red bordering between wine and blood; not exactly Will’s style, but he liked it.
*dead, dead, so dead* The poetic description, the mention of blood (foreshadowing, perhaps?) and wine (Chianti!!...Sorry.) and leather~! Leather is hawt.
Trying to drown out his nightmares with alcohol, Will Graham was the end result of a broken life.
You...that.... you're killin' me here, and I'm getting back up and goin', 'Please, ma'am, may I have some more?' ^_^ This is along the lines of my AUish*Will, isn't it? I'd like to think so, then again, slap me if I'm wrong.
Eventually the numbness wore off, and once he knew that all the pain—not just physical but emotional too—he’d gone through to get Lecter in custody was entirely for nothing, Will really snapped.
Aww... I love dark*Will so much, its almost a kink. There's just something so...so... gah! I'll quote
that Will might not exactly be in an entirely sane mindset…
Hehehe. What was the first clue, Jack?
Subconsciously, perhaps desperately, he felt that Lecter’s capture would equal his release
In more ways than one... *cough* Getting serious now. I love his desperation, his obsession. He knows what he wants, craves, and most importantly, needs. He won't admit to it. He'd prefer to be the prey.
Hearing light footsteps behind him, Will also speculated on whether or not he’d live long enough to see their dejected faces.
*Guh*. He knows the good doctor too well. The obvious trap he willingly walked into is a wonderful mental image. *contiues to read eagerly*
I read the rest in a rush, unable to stop to comment. Hot, hot, hooot! I'll comment more coherently now. I promise.
“Hello, Red Riding Hood,” the owner of the hands sneered, managing to mock Graham’s coat and greet him at the same time.
Sweet Freudian meanings! 0_0; If Graham's little red riding hood, that makes Hannibal the wolf who will.... oh, my, my! Naughty images, naughty images!
Hannibal chuckled deeply, and Will felt the brush of a blade being held precariously against his throat as Lecter purred, “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”
Knife-kink. Right after bite-kink. A dash of gun-kink. You've reduced me to a wibbling pile of fangirl.
Damn...and I had meant to be all coherent and poetic and search for deeper meanings.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 01:06 pm (UTC)You know you love it! *evil laughter*
I still have no idea what inspired this fic... o0This is along the lines of my AUish*Will, isn't it?
Actually I think him drinking a lot is book!canon. I read something in SotL about Will being "a drunk in Florida" because of all his work for the FBI.
In more ways than one...
Yeah, I figured I'd throw in a little innuendo there. Sure, I could've said "freedom", but "realease" is waaaay better. And yes, desperation and obsession work really great for Will. I have to remember sometime to a write a more obsessive Lecter. *adds to to-do-list*
The obvious trap he willingly walked into is a wonderful mental image.
But of course! Will knows Lecter doesn't care about bumbling policemen and won't bother making an appearence if Will is surrounded by bodyguards of a sort. So Will makes sure he's armed and walks off to find Hannibal. The chars really do complement each other.
If Graham's little red riding hood, that makes Hannibal the wolf who will....
Yeah baby! The dialogue lines were the sole reason that this fic came into being. Hannibal is the Wolf to Will's Red Riding Hood.
*more evil laughter* I figured you'd enjoy the smattering of kinks. ^^
no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 02:11 pm (UTC)And yes, desperation and obsession work really great for Will.
Oy, so totally ^^ I love that mix with Will; just brings out the best in him.
So Will makes sure he's armed and walks off to find Hannibal.
*snerk* Total invisible shield of protection. He won't need that gun any more than he'll need his pants...or shirt... or any clothes for that matter. *pause* No, scratch that. He can keep the jacket on. But everything else will go ;)
Heheh. Now that is a mental image to kill ya.
Darling, if you write teh kink, I'll always enjoy it.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 01:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 02:00 pm (UTC)Damn, this search is taking a while. *pause. blink. rubs bleary eyes* OMFG! ITS RED RIDING HOOD!!!
*few moments later* HA! Finally found it!! (http://www.edward-norton.org/gallery/face.html)
....*guh* Now, finally, onto your other replies ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-09-05 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-05 02:04 pm (UTC)Do enjoy the downloads. Particuraly 'smirking revenge'. It just...0wnz.
'Keep me on as an...outside consultant and I will not tell people these things that I know.'
Oh, that coat just inspires wicked wicked thoughts! As does the REALLY low pants.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 01:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 01:45 pm (UTC)Rose's > http://www.myspace.com/midnighteyes55
Leanne's > http://www.myspace.com/itsleanne
Sarah's > http://www.myspace.com/redirkulous
Also my new group that I made that you will luv <3 >> http://groups.myspace.com/slashxisxlove