Hm, so this is where my dearling Will has been, eh? You rogue thief, you. *huggles*
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 suffie on this one: "...Edward Norton seem[s] to project this helpless vulnerability that just demands to be preyed upon, in the sense that you just want to chain him to a bed somewhere and fuck him senseless. {Full review, part two of two, can be found here (http://www.livejournal.com/users/suffire/52661.html). First is here (http://www.livejournal.com/users/suffire/52470.html)}
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.
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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.