just mostly dead

anonymous asked:

When Hannibal comes back with a fourth season, do you think it should be designed as the final chapter of the series? I have a feeling it may be Bryan Fuller's intention.

I think you could do an equally decent story in one season or three. Bryan has talked about everything from a comic book to a movie to a miniseries to repeated miniseries events to a full season to a full several seasons. From that, I take it that he’ll take what he can get. 

The last we heard was that they were still negotiating with two studios, not just Gaumont, which may indicate that Clarice and Jame Gumb could be back on the table, while Bryan promised that Will Graham would not be set aside. What that tells me is that DLC is not closing any doors. Martha de Laurentiis has been pretty straightforward in the past about wanting the full, 13-episode season with an option for more. Which only makes sense–I think that’s where they’d stand to make the most money, and a lot of their non-Mads Mikkelsen projects are in development hell right now, as far as I can tell. Bryan’s insistence that this should take a couple years to nail down is at least partially motivated by scheduling–he’s said as much–which might put him in a situation where he doesn’t have to manage American Gods at the same time. (I don’t know how long Bryan’s contract is with that show–he’s said some things in the past that have made me wonder if it might only be a three-year contract, although that’s entirely speculation on my part.) In the end, it’s going to depend on what the distributor wants to order. I imagine they worked up several proposals for various formats and lengths. As one does.

Bryan’s not getting any younger, and we know he’s motivated by the inevitability of his coming death. When he talked at the Outfest Los Angeles LGBT Film Festival, what I took from his speech–from him calling his own Pushing Daisies queerbait and talked about how he as an openly gay man had never gotten a chance to tell an openly gay story about an openly gay man until American Gods–was that if he ever wants to tell his own great gay genre love story between two men–two central characters–his only chance in his life might just be with Hannibal. I don’t think is his first priority when it comes to telling stories, but it obviously has some priority with him, and, bottom line, that opportunity may never arise for him again. If there’s anything he shares with Hannibal Lecter, it’s the wisdom to take life by the antlers. For tomorrow he may die. 

Whatever format any future content may take, it will be with all the great passion that a man who lives under that philosophy can give. 

If Akutagawa heard Dazai say “sleep is for the weak” he would definitely stop sleeping until his body literally collapsed from exhaustion

Hiatus AU: Mark drags Damien back across the country in what amounts to the most karmic reverse kidnapping in history, but stopping to take hipster pics of scenic overlooks will not protect you from the scary stuff lurking in the liminal space behind highway truck-stops. (A03)

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no offense but if a trans person tells you their preferred name and you refuse to use their preferred name and make no attempt to correct this mistake then you’re a piece of shit


Obviously i drew Jake. Jake is my babe, can y’all blame me with this awesome as fuck design tho???

I haven’t drawn in a while, idk if i really like the collours in this alot but it turned out just ok in the end thank lord. it was worse before i fixed some shit.
i tried atm, im not even sure if he’d have lots of crows in like the AU maybe he does not sure not up to me but hey i had to fill all that empty space up somehow //KCIKED.

This isn’t really all that finished, i def do see some more thingfs i could do but im way too lazy rn to try, scary/darker collours are kind of hard for me.  Good practice though.

Role swap au belongs to @sabojake who by the way, is a bloody genius.

The Moon and His Shadow

For @gravemagicks bc I love Salem.

Percival Graves died in the battle of Gettysburg in 1864. Or at least, that’s what his family was told. That’s what his fellow soldiers thought when he didn’t find his way back to camp and his body was never recovered. People mourned, forgot, and moved on. He was dead.

Or so they thought.

He did die, make no mistake about that. He’d been struck by a bullet in the chest, and he lay bleeding for hours before someone found him. A man named Jared Dandridge, a man who wore his face, his eyes, but differently. He carried himself like a darkness, stealing across fields of blood and bodies and pain and searching for what he’d come here for. He found it in Percival.

He’d sliced his own wrist open and fed Percival his blood. It was hot, wet, metallic and he tried to struggle, but he was just too weak. Mostly dead, too close to the brink.

The other man’s hand had cradled his face gently, and given him what he needed. He’d fallen asleep in the man’s arms, all the while he was whispering sweet nothings in his ear. It was the best night’s sleep he’d had in years. Since the war started, he was sure.

When he’d next opened his eyes, he could see everything, from the individual blade of grass to the smallest bug on the smallest leaf in the trees. He could hear everything, too, like the sound of birds chirping from far away and deer moving through the forests around him. Jared was there, and he told him what he was. He told him how to survive, how to live with the sun and the humans. He’d saved his life only to damn him.


The years had passed, and Percival had only grown stronger. His magic was better than ever, making him one of the strongest wizards in the US region. It hadn’t surprised anyone when he was named Director of Magical Security. He was both loved and feared by most people.

Even so, Gellert Grindelwald had been able to get his hands on him. The man scarred him, starved him to near death and left him to rot in a basement somewhere. He didn’t know how long it had been when the sweet scent of honey and apples had wrapped around him like a blanket.

He’d almost perked up when the scent got stronger, and when his dark, hungered eyes opened, he swore he was seeing an angel. Hair the color of cinnamon, skin the color of a white rose dotted with the freckles that looked like constellations. Lips as pink as a shell, eyes as green as a summer meadow. He was so beautiful that it made his heart twist and his hollow stomach rumble. He was both hungered and amazed by the stranger’s presence.

“Mister Graves? My name is Newton Scamander. I’m here to take you home.” Home? Was this the angel of death? If he was, Percival would gladly follow him to either Heaven or Hell. It didn’t matter where he took him, as long as he got more time with this exqusitie creature.

The sweet man had brushed his dirty, messy hair aside with warm fingers, and Percival had closed his eyes and fallen asleep against that touch.


The next time he’d opened his eyes, he saw the angel again, smiling down at him. “You’re here.” He’d whispered, and his throat wasn’t dry anymore. His stomach didn’t feel hollow, and he felt stronger. Better. “I didn’t think you were real.”

“I’m real. You were very out of it the last time we spoke. That was two weeks ago, you’ve been out this whole time. We’ve been feeding you little by little, fixing your wounds. You heal fast, even for a vampire.” He’d smiled again, his teeth pearl white against his soft pink lips, and Percival was falling fast. “Thank you. For saving me. For everything.”

Newt had reached out and taken his hand, squeezing it to give him comfort. “It was my pleasure, Mister Graves. I’m glad to see you’re better.”

The moment Newt had touched him, the primal side of him should’ve said food, but instead it said mate. He wanted this pretty human to himself. It was entirely selfish, he knew, but he wanted him. As soon as he was out of this bed, he was going to court Newt Scamander.


He’d started with a gift. A leather bracelet he’d made with his own two hands, something he’d picked up a long time ago. Newt had blushed the most gorgeous shade of red and had accepted his gift, letting him tie it around his right wrist. There was a single detail on the bracelet – a smooth river stone meant to bring luck to the wearer.

Percival had smiled triumphantly and felt his fangs tingle as he watched the gorgeous man blush. He got even redder when Percival had asked him to dinner with him. His scent was overpowering, settling over him like a blanket and setting his nerves on fire.

He should’ve been more of a gentleman, but his darker, more primal side had taken over and he’d pushed the younger man against his office door and kissed him. He’d responded in kind with the sweetest kisses and little moans and sighs that set Percival buzzing like a livewire.

Newt had left MACUSA that day with a mate and a mark on his neck that told others exactly who he belonged to.


anonymous asked:

not to be annoying (cuz you've probably had a ton of people hitting you up already) but you guys alive over there? been a month now and just wondering what's goin on

We’re here! Not dead, just mostly sleeping and unpacking. College has been a time indeed. We’ll have the queue full again sometime this week.

Thanks for checking in!

wanted to see if I could draw these two left-handed

the answer is nearly I had to do the eyes right-handed but I’m close

Taking A Question: Becoming A God in 2 Months or Less...

Hello people of the Internet…

We’re back with Season 2 of our Taking Questions, where we take the most popular, strange or just thought provoking questions and answer them in the many ways we know how…

And today’s question is on “Becoming A God”.

So if you want to hear how to become a literal god in 2 months or less…

Then Keep Reading…

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I love when people tag their brotp fics as “no slash” cause a. prime vintage fandom feels and b. there’s probably enough subtext for me to rub my gay little hands on

anonymous asked:

And I guess Len can't go on the Waverider now because he has to stick around to help Barry with his curse

Needs Must (and honestly like, most of my fics) is set in an AU where the Waverider and Legends journey just… doesn’t happen. Rip doesn’t come back in time and collect the Legends. Sara and Ray are in Star City, Firestorm is up in Pittsburg, and the Hawks are in La Roche. Len and Mick never left Central :)

Otherwise, with when this is set, Len would already be dead? Needs Must is set post Flash season 2, ignoring Flashpoint (i.e., Barry never ran back in time at the end of season 2), so Legends Season 1 was over already too.

I’ll make a reference to it soonish in the text for clarity, but Needs Must starts probably ~September 2016? Late September maybe?

Barry took some time to grieve his father (took bereavement leave for June), then started dating Iris (July), and moved out of Joe’s (end of August / Sept 1st). 

He moved out fast from Joe’s for similar reasons to canon, and he and Iris are moving fast emotionally, but they’re actually still pretty new to their own relationship, technically, and not the affirmed engaged couple we remember from the end of Season 3. At the start of the fic, they’ve only been officially dating for 8-10 weeks, probably? Only been living together for a few weeks, if that.

Anyway I’m rambling and I’ll clear up some of this in the fic as it moves forward, but yeah, no Waverider, no Legends. If I can come up with a fun background reason that suits the story for Mick to meet Sara and Ray I might go with it though lol. I don’t really have any plans for the Rogues at all in this fic, it’s more team-Flash centric instead, but yeah.