Status: Yeah, just... Thanks for reading this crappy little solo...?
Nothing Fancy, Just Feelings.
Just... Feelings.
I delve into my mind and find my happy place. It's quiet, peaceful, and I'm left to my thoughts and emotions, no interruptions. The same thought, -or should I say, person?- resounds in my head-space and it won't go away, so I just let it swim in my mind. Who is this person? Although you probably already know.
Dr Lecter. Hannibal Lecter. Master. Lover.
It started as a simple curiosity, my thoughts on the man who now invaded my thoughts constantly, like a never receding drum, a non stop heartbeat, until it simply grew into something more, much more.
I don't know when exactly it ignited something so strong, so unyielding, in me, all I know is that it did. It's strange to think that we were simply patient and doctor, doctor and patient, before any mutual feelings came into it. There were no conflicts of interest, no complications, it was all simple. Boring.
My life, since being in Wolf Trap and Baltimore, has been relatively simple, even easy, some might argue, compared to my dark and murky past, my horrific childhood.
Then the complications started, being thrown out onto the forefront of the field, getting into the heads of a variety of murderers and serial killers, has emotionally damaged me, almost to the very brink of insanity.
Therapy.
I was forced into therapy, not necessarily against my wishes, just that I wouldn't of chosen to get any at all had it been 100% completely my choice. But it wasn't, and I was then confronted by the man I was, and am, you can argue, perhaps obsessed with. Not the stalker-ish obsession fans obtain when adoration turns into something worse towards their idols. No, it was love. Being in love.
Love.
Scientifically, it should just be a chemical reaction that happens in your body to mess with your heart, mind and soul. But this theory is, metaphorically speaking, brushed under the rug, as the saying goes, by anyone and everyone once they've experienced this strange feeling of, simply put, wanting to die for another, if you had to put a too short a point to it.
Actions.
I would. I would die for Hannibal, if it ever came to that. I'm just that far gone. I could go on and on and endlessly list different emotions I feel when I think of him, but that would technically be impossible.
I've never been good with words, the thoughts in my head straight threads until they reach my lips and then it all, not very well put, goes to Hell. The thoughts all come out a tumble of disjointed fragments, cheapened, and sometimes not exactly how I mean them to sound at all. Words mean nothing at all if you don't act accordingly.
The words I say to him, I do mean them, more than anything.
We've been through a lot.
Pretty much well known to the whole of Baltimore and Muskrat Farm by now, so I won't delve into it all again. There's no need.
My feelings.
My feelings have been hurt, and my feelings have been salvaged and soothed. The latter is the point we're at now, and I think they can stay like that, at least for a while. What we have at the moment, it's fragile, we both know that, and I'm not going to deny it. But I know it's going to become better again. I'm healing. He's healing me again, both mentally and physically.
I'm reverting back to my old self again, the puppy to Master.
Master. Master and Puppy. Master and Slave.
Now this, this is an understanding between the both of us, what works for us so well, and probably scares a lot of you. Of course you'd be scared, you don't know the full extent of it, how deep our connection goes.
We're connected on a primal level. I understand him. He understands me. I know what he needs. He knows what I need. You all know of his Wendigo, something so dark and chilling, something I've only just recently started to begin to understand, something that is of his true form, his true self.
Our other, truest forms.
I find this form of him, this side of him, extraordinary. There are no words that my mind is capable of pushing past my lips that would justify exactly what I think of Wendigo.
Not many of you know, as it's only just been realized recently within myself, that I, too, have a Wendigo of my own. Mine is what you'd call Ignis Fatuus, or another term more well known would be Wind-o'-the-Willows. Ignis or Willow would also suffice.
Ignis and Wendigo are similar, but not just quite so yet. To put it politely, they're mates. They've been at one together, on more than one occasion, connected on the deepest, most carnal levels known to man. But still, Wendigo is better refined, better controlled, than Ignis is.
Hopefully, that will change soon, and Ignis can be reigned in and controlled better. It connects us on a level unbelievable to anyone who hasn't had the privilege of experiencing something quite similar to it.
The future.
The future suddenly doesn't scare me anymore, it excites me. What we've been through, it's like it's all been a test, hoops that I've had to jump through, to prove myself, to prove how stubborn and determined I can really be when it comes down to the man I'm in love with. I am stubborn. I am determined. I will make this future happen, with him by my side, no matter what the cost, of anything else, or to myself.
After all, I'm a people pleaser, and self preservation never was my strongest point.
Dr Lecter. Hannibal Lecter. Master. Lover.
It started as a simple curiosity, my thoughts on the man who now invaded my thoughts constantly, like a never receding drum, a non stop heartbeat, until it simply grew into something more, much more.
I don't know when exactly it ignited something so strong, so unyielding, in me, all I know is that it did. It's strange to think that we were simply patient and doctor, doctor and patient, before any mutual feelings came into it. There were no conflicts of interest, no complications, it was all simple. Boring.
My life, since being in Wolf Trap and Baltimore, has been relatively simple, even easy, some might argue, compared to my dark and murky past, my horrific childhood.
Then the complications started, being thrown out onto the forefront of the field, getting into the heads of a variety of murderers and serial killers, has emotionally damaged me, almost to the very brink of insanity.
Therapy.
I was forced into therapy, not necessarily against my wishes, just that I wouldn't of chosen to get any at all had it been 100% completely my choice. But it wasn't, and I was then confronted by the man I was, and am, you can argue, perhaps obsessed with. Not the stalker-ish obsession fans obtain when adoration turns into something worse towards their idols. No, it was love. Being in love.
Love.
Scientifically, it should just be a chemical reaction that happens in your body to mess with your heart, mind and soul. But this theory is, metaphorically speaking, brushed under the rug, as the saying goes, by anyone and everyone once they've experienced this strange feeling of, simply put, wanting to die for another, if you had to put a too short a point to it.
Actions.
I would. I would die for Hannibal, if it ever came to that. I'm just that far gone. I could go on and on and endlessly list different emotions I feel when I think of him, but that would technically be impossible.
I've never been good with words, the thoughts in my head straight threads until they reach my lips and then it all, not very well put, goes to Hell. The thoughts all come out a tumble of disjointed fragments, cheapened, and sometimes not exactly how I mean them to sound at all. Words mean nothing at all if you don't act accordingly.
The words I say to him, I do mean them, more than anything.
We've been through a lot.
Pretty much well known to the whole of Baltimore and Muskrat Farm by now, so I won't delve into it all again. There's no need.
My feelings.
My feelings have been hurt, and my feelings have been salvaged and soothed. The latter is the point we're at now, and I think they can stay like that, at least for a while. What we have at the moment, it's fragile, we both know that, and I'm not going to deny it. But I know it's going to become better again. I'm healing. He's healing me again, both mentally and physically.
I'm reverting back to my old self again, the puppy to Master.
Master. Master and Puppy. Master and Slave.
Now this, this is an understanding between the both of us, what works for us so well, and probably scares a lot of you. Of course you'd be scared, you don't know the full extent of it, how deep our connection goes.
We're connected on a primal level. I understand him. He understands me. I know what he needs. He knows what I need. You all know of his Wendigo, something so dark and chilling, something I've only just recently started to begin to understand, something that is of his true form, his true self.
Our other, truest forms.
I find this form of him, this side of him, extraordinary. There are no words that my mind is capable of pushing past my lips that would justify exactly what I think of Wendigo.
Not many of you know, as it's only just been realized recently within myself, that I, too, have a Wendigo of my own. Mine is what you'd call Ignis Fatuus, or another term more well known would be Wind-o'-the-Willows. Ignis or Willow would also suffice.
Ignis and Wendigo are similar, but not just quite so yet. To put it politely, they're mates. They've been at one together, on more than one occasion, connected on the deepest, most carnal levels known to man. But still, Wendigo is better refined, better controlled, than Ignis is.
Hopefully, that will change soon, and Ignis can be reigned in and controlled better. It connects us on a level unbelievable to anyone who hasn't had the privilege of experiencing something quite similar to it.
The future.
The future suddenly doesn't scare me anymore, it excites me. What we've been through, it's like it's all been a test, hoops that I've had to jump through, to prove myself, to prove how stubborn and determined I can really be when it comes down to the man I'm in love with. I am stubborn. I am determined. I will make this future happen, with him by my side, no matter what the cost, of anything else, or to myself.
After all, I'm a people pleaser, and self preservation never was my strongest point.