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Tag: self reblog
Message to any and all writers out there, whether you’ve been writing for years or just started: DO NOT DELETE A SINGLE THING.
Your writing is a part of you, shows your readers how much you’ve changed and even those unfinished WIPs have fans who go back to reread.
Be proud of how you’ve grown, don’t worry about RT’s, kudos, or reblogs (hard I know) because you HAVE FANS.
They might be quiet, they might be few, but they’re there. Be proud of every word you’ve let loose since the first time you wrote a story on paper as a kid or even on a computer as an adult.
YOU ARE AMAZING.
Write what you want to write.
Write crazy.
Write weird.
Write fucked up shit that you think no one will like but you because I guarantee someone will.
Don’t let your ideas get squashed by fear of rejection.
That ideal reader you’re trying to impress does not exist.
Write for you.
Crazy, weird, fucked up you.
Don’t get caught in the need to be massively liked the first time you hit ‘post’ because I think it’s toxic to your creativity. Reblog multiple times, don’t feel you’re bothering people because some may not have seen things.
Self promotion is not a bad thing.
Be happy with your work.
Be proud.
Show it off.
Adam Raki is never going to get married.
He comes to this conclusion even before the end of his season when the lack of alpha attentions was already overwhelmingly obvious. His father has chalked it up to each alpha not being “his one” and he agrees for most did not seem to be able to stomach him for more than a dance.
At least not after he’d told them the rules of courting him.
Rule #1: No kissing.
Any proper omega worth their salt knew you should not put the cart before the horse and his own father had made these rules so he trusted him to be truthful. So what if he’d seen Bethany in the bushes with nearly every omegan who batted their eyelashes at her? Who cared if he knew Will Graham had already impregnated his omega fiance the day after they met?
Things such as a kiss before a marriage bond were reckless and just something he would never do.
Rule #2: No unsupervised rendezvous.
He knew most omegas once they’d found their someone were more than happy to go gallivanting around in the dark to be near them but that was how unwed and unbonded pregnant omegas were made. He would not go out without a proper chaperone. No matter how handsome or beautiful an alpha was.
Rule #3: No ingestion of liquors or tobacco products.
Adam’s father smokes a pipe and he does not enjoy the scent, not at all, which means he rides in a separate carriage to every ball. He knows pipes are all the rage though he does not understand the appeal. He will not have a husband who ingests those things nor will he ever do it himself.
Rule #4: No more than one dance.
This rule he often wishes he felt differently on, though he had yet to have an alpha who asked for more than one all season long. He longs at times to get properly danced with, the perfect alpha hold as they move and sway along. That doesn’t seem to be occuring in the near future and he thinks perhaps he should worry about this.
Rule #5: No unseemly conversation.
Adam hears omegas whisper about such talk at balls, giggling behind their hands at alpha’s posturing talk of ‘filling’ and ‘tasting’ that he just will not be a part of. He does not understand that type of talk being anything but inappropriate and disgusting.
He has spent the last few months since he came of age turning most alphas away because of his regimented rules but his father says “those are not your person” which helps his anxious feelings on the subject.
The idea that he may spend the rest of his life dealing with heats alone is not the worst thing as he is not entirely comfortable with strangers.
Also he feels no excitement about going to balls.
Adam more and more is thrilled not to be paid much mind. The events his father brings him to he starts to wander around in more than stay in view of the ballroom.
He spends time in the libraries, the porches, or more often than not, the garden.
It’s there, sitting on a bench in the garden of Lord Renoir’s estate, that he first sees The Man in Black.
Continued in
Rules to Break When Romancing A Rake ~ Chapters 1 & 2
This fic is complete and will post a chapter every Sunday.
(*dusts off necrophilia tag*)
Rot Me
Life with Will is nothing like Hannibal expected.
There are hunts, dinners with just the two of them, and nights sharing a bed.
He just expected Will to be alive.
Will as a zombie is not much different than alive Will except he smells rotten, dead, though Hannibal accepts kisses gladly the taste leaves something to be desired.
“I’m sorry,” Will whispers, cold lips at his neck, “This isn’t…what you pictured.”
Hannibal turns, touches the mark at his cheek. The texture is stiff, skin he had sewn together constantly coming apart. Even now he could feel it.
“I will take you any way I can have you.”
Will smiles, his teeth showing signs of decay. “Till death do us part has a whole new meaning now, huh?”
Hannibal smiles.
“I think I prefer, till the end of the world.”
Will kisses him, the taste still jarring but he pulls him closer. He feels Will pullback, turning is face away.
“Will.”
Will moves to leave him, Hannibal holding tightly as he hears, “I’m disgusting. It’s got to be just…”
Hannibal sits up, turning Will to look at him fully. The sewing has torn now, exposing the inside of Will’s cheek. He runs a hand over the wound.
“You’re beautiful.”
Will laughs, “You’re insane. It’s got to taste like rotten meat, like…”
Hannibal presses their lips together, hand tight to the wound. He must be careful with Will, any carelessness could cause another incident like when Will lost his left arm.
The sewing had been quite difficult and it still fell off occasionally.
Will pulls back again, exhaling though out of habit now. “Hannibal, you…”
“The taste of love is sweet,” Hannibal caressed Will’s other cheek, “When hearts like ours meet.”
Will laughed, “You’re quoting Johnny Cash now? Maybe I’m rotting your brain.”
Hannibal smirked. “You very well could be,” he leaned in and whispered, “Let us see how much further you can rot me.”
All I Want For Christmas is You, a gift for my lovely friends @desperatelyseekingcannibals, @hotsauce418, @victorineb, and @tcbook
The Christmas lists were Will’s idea, an act of desperation to curb the awkwardness between them that first year and Hannibal was surprisingly agreeable.
Ten Things You Want to Do Next Year
Will’s Year One list consisted of ridiculous things like ‘Watch Hannibal eat McDonald’s’ and ‘Hannibal’s ‘Cut Open a Victim of My Choosing.’ They did both lists, growing closer and learning each other again after so long apart.
If Will hadn’t already been in love with Hannibal before then, he would’ve been by the end of year one though the last number on his list was conveniently, ‘Tell Hannibal How I Feel.’
Year Two was more serious, their lists growing in intensity to their feelings.
‘Fuck Hannibal in Public’
‘Kill Bedelia Du Maurier’
Will particularly enjoyed that one and showed his thanks to Hannibal after, knowing the want was more for him than anything else.
Year Three was softer, ‘Get a Dog’ was followed by Hannibal’s ‘See Will Clean Shaven’ which was more frightening than Will ever expected though in Hannibal’s eyes he’d never looked better.
He kept his beard close shaved all of Year Four, and added ‘See Hannibal With A Beard’ just because he felt like playing. Hannibal hated the beard and spent all the way to Christmas complaining till Will crossed off ‘
Get a New Car’ and added ‘Shave Hannibal in the Tub’ which got him a very enthusiastic response.Year Five was the hardest, mostly because they were nearly captured and started to live modestly again hopping from country to country till they settled on Cuba. Will’s list was simple that year, ‘Stay Together,’ and Hannibal’s angry ‘Kill Jack Crawford’ though that was never finished because Will refused to put them in that danger.
Year Six gave birth to ‘Get a Cat’ and ‘Spend a Month Walking Around Naked’ which was the cause of Will’s weight loss that year but Hannibal seemed to gain weight. Will was only slightly scolded for that but he lived for the sight of his tiny paunch. He wouldn’t lose that no matter what Hannibal preferred.
Now here they were on Year Seven.
Will sat in front of his list Christmas Eve while Hannibal was in the study doing the same. He didn’t know what he wanted really. They were happy, blissfully and completely, so why did he need?
He had written ‘Get Married’ only to immediately throw it away because that was silly. They didn’t need that, the scars they both wore enough of a sign of their commitment than anything else. He started to write, ‘See Hannibal with Long Hair’ which made him so distracted imagining he didn’t hear the door open.
“I’ve finished.”
Will was startled into a laugh, feeling his cheeks redden. He’d written ten already?
For @tcbook
“Why me?”
The question was asked quite late as most questions were, and Hannibal thought perhaps Will wasn’t expecting an answer at all but he gave one anyway.
“Because you fascinated me.”
Will smiled into his shoulder and pressed a kiss there, a quiet thank you but also a reward for honesty.
“You didn’t fascinate me.”
Hannibal smiled and rolled over so they were facing one another. He could smell Will’s breath, a combination of expensive wine and the toothpaste that was store bought Hannibal disliked. The hand closest to his Hannibal reached out to and took to his lips. “A fact that I was quite aware of at the time, though I wormed my way past your defenses.”
“I’m sure very few people have the ability to protect their hearts from you,” Will whispered, “When you let them see you.”
Hannibal moved in closer and Will kissed him, a soft touch that he made much harder until Will was flush against him and shaking. They pulled apart when Will was on top of him, mouths close again but neither touched.
“I could’ve stopped you,” Hannibal admitted, “You know I could have.”
Will teased a kiss but instead lay his head on Hannibal’s chest, nuzzling as he sighed. “If you were going to fall with anyone, it had to be someone who gave you everything.”
“Yes,” Hannibal said quietly, “Have you given me everything, Will?”
Will bit at his skin and he shivered.
“Not yet. Can you wait?”
“How long?”
Will smiled against his skin. “Forever?”
Hannibal tightened his hold on him.
“Yes that seems just long enough.”
If there was one thing Will knew about Hannibal Lecter was that he didn’t do anything by halves.
Their life after the fall was mostly a sedate one, calm and secluded from civilization while the hunt died down. Will rediscovered a love of books that Hannibal encouraged which made for lively discussion at the dinner table.
Books really were the only thing that they safely discussed for that first year while he saw Hannibal fight to hold in other urges.
They didn’t talk about them.
Will almost clammed up when it seemed like the perfect time and he saw Hannibal’s disappointment but there was never deliberate coaxing or forceful intrusion into thoughts he didn’t freely give.
Hannibal couldn’t shower Will with the attention he wanted so Will let him do it in other ways: cooking, books, and clothes. They enjoyed their time together as banal it seemed.
Then one morning Will woke to find a dog in his bed.
Her collar said Encephalitis but he ended up calling her Cephie.
Cephie was another way to be close without going too far and Will found himself basking in their shared love of her. He even went so far as to curl up on the couch beside Hannibal while they read with Cephie in between.
Their friendly strained looks became more open and three hundred and thirty seven days into their new life Will thought perhaps he was ready for that talk.
Then the garden happened.
Continued in:
Sow Your Seed
“When did you first realize you were in love?”
The question comes unbidden in the dark, Hannibal’s breath teasing his chin as Will clutches tighter and lets out an exasperated breath of his own.
“You can’t invalidate her by asking me that.”
Hannibal’s hold tightens in response, a soft kiss under his chin strangely grounding as he offers, “I am merely curious.”
Will swallows back an angry retort and answers, “When she kissed me first.”
Hannibal tenses, pulling back his mouth. “After a date?”
“In the parking lot of an old diner where we had our first date. She kissed me and touched my face and said,” he closes his eyes, “You don’t scare me.”
The silence is deafening, Hannibal now half sitting up and still clutching with fingernails just shy of digging. Will grabs his nearest hand and threads their fingers together.
“Happy now?”
Another breath, the dark hiding reactions that even Will can guess by body language. Hannibal is no doubt stone faced and lacking any response at all. Anger and bitter jealousy are hard to mask but he was very good at disguising both.
“Tell me.”
Hannibal breathes in, exhaling as he slowly starts to calm again settling down beside Will.
“I have never felt fear of losing anyone for years after the deaths of my family,” he sighs, laying down on Will’s chest, “When Tobias…”
Will starts to run his fingers through Hannibal’s hair and revels in the raw pleased sound, “You know, you’re the most afraid person I know.”
Hannibal hugs him, “I am only ever afraid of losing you.”
Will smiles in the dark, “Even after all this time, after all you’ve done, you haven’t. I’m not sure you ever could.”
Hannibal kisses his chest. “I do not only speak in regards to feelings.”
“I know.”
They’re quiet for a long while, so long that Will thinks he may have fallen asleep if not for the next question.
“When do you think you were able to come to the realization that you loved me?”
“When Bedelia said you were in love with me,” he pets across Hannibal’s head, “I never thought that what I was feeling had any other reason besides manipulation and attachment. But the idea that you could love me was…”
“Permission.”
Will rolls them, settling over Hannibal who immediately relaxes at the warmth. “I went to the hotel and took two hot showers, trying not to let a running show of images make me ache.”
Hannibal reaches out and touches his hair, “You were pleased.”
Will laughs, lightly grinding against Hannibal’s hip, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so torn or so horny,” he presses a kiss to Hannibal’s lips, “Or cum so hard.”
Hannibal pulls him in, gifting him a kiss in return this one much more determined, “I am pleased.”
Will smiles, “How pleased?”
Hannibal leans over and turns on the lamp, the sudden bright light jarring even as Will is happier to see his face than to guess it.
“I do not like having to imagine your expressions.”
Will laughs, “It’s not like you’re missing much.”
Hannibal kisses his cheek, nuzzles and breathes him in. “Any and all images of you happy in my arms I do not wish to miss.”
Will grabs Hannibal’s hair, a noise not unlike a growl ripped from him as Hannibal tries to move away, rolling them over again.
“No,” Will breaths, smiling up at him, “Keep talking. I want to hear what other things you don’t want to miss.”
Hannibal’s smile widens, “Let me show you.”
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