#deathmerit

That wound looks rough, but it's not hitting anything vital. A stab wound, by the looks of it, is steadily bleeding. For a moment, Will entertains the idea of leaving Hannibal here to bleed out entirely. A second later and he realizes the likelihood of that happening is very low. 

He releases a sigh, eyes narrowing at Hannibal when he mentions ‘watching’. The idea of watching Hannibal bleed out and doing nothing both thrills and pains him. Thrills him to think of the blood seeping and staining the perfect floor crimson, pains him because despite it all, he does not wish to see Hannibal dead. 

“I should leave you here to bleed out on your own.” Will mutters as he crosses the distance between them, swiping up one of Hannibal’s fancy dish towels on the way over that he balls up and very cruelly shoves against the wound without a care for how painful it is. 

It is harsh and unforgiving, but it also helps slow the bleeding with the amount of pressure he is apply, even if that blood soaks through the dish towel and coats Will’s fingers red.  

Not everyone would say that her husband was a beautiful man. Not in the conventional sense anyway. She, too, had once thought his brother to be the more handsome one of the two but that belief had changed. Ned was a true northman and Catelyn had grown to appreciate that. His hair, his body, his face... she could spend hours just looking at him and she would only end up discovering more things to love about him.

@deathmerit : "You're still looking."

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts but instead of feeling embarrassed, she simply smirked at him. She shifted on their bed, watching him more openly now as he moved around their chamber. What a handsome man he was. The furs hung loosely around her, keeping her just warm enough. "And does it bother you, my lord? Perhaps I should find another to look at, someone who appreciates the gaze of a woman." Catelyn loved to tease him, knowing full well that the idea of her doing such a thing was just ridiculous and yet he would hate it anyway.

"I didn't make you a monster. I just brought out what was already there." / From Hannibal to Will.

Maybe Hannibal is right, though it is not something he will so readily admit. There has always been this darkness inside of him, kept at bay by removing himself from the job he had before Jack dragged him back in. Perhaps he could have avoided this darkness if he had stayed away, teaching rather than profiling. 

And now? It feels like there is no escape. There’s no going back. Maybe if he had never met Hannibal but the fact is, he’s in deep now. Unbothered by eating the human that Hannibal feeds him on a constant basis. 

And now? After their little stunt and surviving the fall? He has killed. More than once. He knows automatically what kind of killer he has. A justice killer. Like somehow, in his mind that has been wrapped time and time again, that killing those who are horrible criminals somehow makes his crimes less than. 

Other killers, abusers, the scummiest of the scummy. These are the type of kills he goes after and he often lures them back to the place he and Hannibal are at, so that he can kill them and allow Hannibal to turn them into masterpieces of meals. 

What better way to get rid of evidence than to eat it? 

Still, he hates it when Hannibal brings up this. His jaw clenches as his eyes narrow at the man before him, telling him that it was not him who made Will a killer.

Catelyn arched a brow, listening to her husband’s playful attempt to mess with her. Truthfully, she loved this about him, how he managed to amuse her. Wrapping her furs tighter around herself, she crossed her arms around her chest. She pretended to be offended when he acted like he couldn’t remember. Tyrell, Lannister, a princess from Dorne; oh how she’d be furious if he ever actually considered such options.

She looked up at him then, the faintest hint of a smile on her face but she stayed determined. “A Tully seems about right, my lord.” Lifting one of her hands, she placed it on his chest, right where his heart was. Delicate fingers splayed out, caressing the spot for a moment. Her gaze dropped to his lips. “You enjoy messing with your wife, don’t you? Tell me, do you like it when I am jealous? Do you like knowing that I would claim you as mine?”

𝒜 𝒟𝐎𝐖𝐑𝐘 𝒪𝐅 𝐵𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 accepting

Daenerys turned her head slowly to look at Jorah as they sat together, her face glowing from the words he spoke.

“I will never know how to repay your kindness and devotion, Jorah,” she said gently, reaching for his hand where it rested on his knee and laced her fingers with his own.