#bedclia

        “    you’re quite remarkable yourself.    do you worry about not being so??    ”    bedelia du maurier.    a therapist who had retired,  who had seen hannibal lecter,  and was now standing before his own cell.    as much as matthew knew about lecter and graham,  she had escaped his research.    merely a slip through the cracks.    yet what little he did know of her proved that she was quite the character.    and the way she presented herself only further proved the point.    why she was there was a mystery   –   lest it had something to do with the one man so many seem to have quite the obsession over.    would it be like this if they knew of the monster hannibal was??    or was she there because she knew??

    “    i happen to think it’s quite the opposite,  at least for those that aren’t content with themselves.    those that are but don’t believe it worry about their place in the world,  just as those that are not and wish to be more do the same.    it all matters on what they care about…    what do you care about,  doctor du maurier??    ”

portrayal review ! || accepting !!

you: actual hannibal lecter me: oh god i hope not 

✦__DU MAURIER, BEDELIA

well that was a backhanded comment & bedelia knew all too well that she wasn’t DENSE. a brief pause she took a moment to appreciate such disregard and perhaps had she been in the same place & same time as her duplicate, it was a comment she might have issued out to some poor, unfortunate soul that had lost a limb with such passive aggression at their stupidity. 

❝shoe.❞ she hissed at herself, carefully restraining the need to wrap a hand around her neck and strangle her.   ❝just SAY it will you. i know you are dying to.❞

unprompted asks || always accepting !

To manipulate ones own psychiatrist was a twisted game of intrigue for Hannibal Lecter. An expert at psychoanalysis and gas lighting. A monster of a man with aspirations to control and possess. He wanted to play with Dr. Du Maurier. He wanted to own her. With a sense of pride from her deadly encounter with Neal Frank, he would not let her leave her profession. He would not allow her to leave him. Perhaps having her mind all to himself was always his intention.

Eyes are red rimmed from the mixture of stolen liquor and shed tears made in private, well away from anyone else. No one would see her crying again, not after her near break down at the sight of her husband crumpling to the ground at Rick’s feet. Where fear had initially been, a drunken rage settled within her but it softened at the sight of the female doctor.