Varzel
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Margot has never known what it’s like to have everything she wants, but those smart little letters so black on a sea of white paper, XY, means she’s about to find out. She watches the doctor flip out the stirrups and her wife settle into them and lets the acetic sting of the OB/GYN office sit heavily in her nostrils. She imagines herself there and her throat burns with bile and the world goes black at the edges until she reminds herself to breathe through the shimmering bursts of rainbow static. Shame creeps in, shadow-footed next to it, as she traces the efficiency of gloved hands, the careful press of a palm to one slender thigh, attentive and competent.
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Margot has a latent medical kink and also a lot of medical trauma, and with a wife who is a doctor, there's only one way to work through that.
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- Part 3 of undone, undress
- Language:
- English
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- 8,188
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by Varzel
09 Jul 2026
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Alana knew what it looked like when a girl burned alive. She hadn’t known Georgia Madchen personally, haunting her own life and sloughing off bloodless skin by the ream, but she’d seen the way Will watched her obliquely from the doorway. A hyperbaric Sleeping Beauty in her glass coffin, not Joan of Arc fixing her gaze on a crucifix’s bleeding brow as her fat spat and liquified, as her eyes went runny. Georgia had died for the crime of getting better, for remembering, for being the recipient of the kind of tenderness from Will that made Abigail Hobbs go sharp-eyed and fawn-still.
Alana was starting to understand that she nearly died for the same reasons, blinking away the retinal burn image of Abigail with her watery mouth and whites of her eyes glossy. Scared.
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A series of snapshots of Alana and Margot growing closer together over the course of Season 3A.
Series
- Part 1 of undone, undress
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,830
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 6
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- 22
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- 6
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Bookmarked by Varzel
08 Jul 2026
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Will gets to his unsteady feet, shoulder knocking into Hannibal’s as he draws closer, and wryly murmurs, “She’s under the impression I’m going to seize at home where no one can find me.”
His elbows and knees throb unhappily when he stands, joints hot and grinding together. Hannibal catches him at the bicep, hand softening to his elbow as Will finds his balance. Even through his coat, the light touch stings his overexposed skin. He smells like his office—paper, leather, the vague chalky smell of old plaster, the warmth of an old fireplace gently used. Will wants to close his eyes to it, and imagine the quiet low light of the red walls on the backs of them.
Hannibal leans in, eyes shining and conspiratorial, and says kindly, “She’s not wrong.”
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Brief canon divergence at the beginning of s1ep12, Relèves: if Will had been released from the hospital before Georgia was burned alive, and needed someone to make sure he didn’t continue to seize his first night back at home.
Bookmarked by Varzel
08 Jul 2026
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Eyes lidded, Will imagines it—Hannibal pressing him out, wider, open, going and going until he can split up the middle, too. Maybe Hannibal would tend Will’s face between his hands as he did it, delicate and cradling and skimming over the sharp arc of cheekbones while imagining the fine openwork spread of bone lurking deep behind them.
Drawn and quartered, Will thinks dully. A punishment for spectacle, not taste, but he figures he’s not good to eat anyway. Gut-shots spoil the whole carcass.
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Following the events of “Mizumono” and a harrowing, weeks-long hospitalization, Will returns home. He’s managing on his own until one night, he has a visitor.
This story is likely not for the faint of heart. I have anatomical knowledge under my belt and I’m never afraid to use it.
Bookmarked by Varzel
03 Jul 2026
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Technically, Will offers it to him twice.
“I’d wager this flannel saw the Oklahoma City Bombing, judging from the age and general tatteredness of it - a favorite of yours? Wrested from the depths of the FBI’s evidence storage?” asks Hannibal, looking over the fabric. If he is disgusted by the sheen of oil in the threads, he shows nothing of it.
Will smiles, unoffended. “Older and worse than that,” he says. “Be careful with it.”
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(Will is a selkie, and can barely tolerate being without his skin. Hannibal can't tolerate being without it at all.)
Bookmarked by Varzel
25 Jun 2026