So, a while ago in the middle of the night, I wrote the beginning of a shitty Hannibal fic. I decided to post the parts I have rn on here to see if it’s good enough to continue!
Carnival of Venice AU inspired by the Cask of Amontillado
- Blood, hannigram, main character death, m/m, murder, stabbing, drinking, masks, etc. I don't know how to do this. Alt universe, Will Graham POV, 1st Person POV, grammar mistakes, unfinished, the beginning of the story and then a small snippet of the end at the bottom of the post, and probably some mistakes in characterization. I mean I was half asleep when I wrote this. I would love ideas for costume ideas for characters if anyone has any!
Quick summary of the basic idea if you don't want to read it all:
Will goes to the festival with his friends for the first time, borrowing one of their old masks. There he met this man with a gorgeous mask; one as extravagant as an elk. He wouldn't normally be able to go up to the man with the intentions that he has due to society’s expectations to love a woman, but there he has freedom. They talk for a while and eventually, the man invites him to dinner. He told him to wear a mask with no bottom half but still hide your identity so that he’d be able to eat without taking it off. They meet again the next night and they have dinner. It all seemed pleasant and peaceful at first with the meal being like that of which Will had never seen much less tasted. It was all wonderful. Eventually, he realizes that the man nor the meat was as they seemed. The man was a serial killer and a cannibal. He had done the same thing with Will with that of many others. Yet in the end ‘I truly am sorry, William. You’ve been like no other…. For you, I think that I'll eat your heart first.’
Actual fic:
I was invited to a carnival in Venice by a friend of mine, Dr. Alana Bloom. Alana typically moves between Venice and Florence, so I wasn’t initially startled by her offer. However, I was very tentative. But, in the end, guilt weighed me towards the idea. I must admit, I’m not used to events such as this. The activity was… suffocating. She gave me a spare mask, a simple one that hides the entirety of my face. It was a golden knight.
As I found myself surrounded by a crowd of sharks, I heard the laughter of her voice grow further and further. At least she finds happiness. Eventually, I find refuge from the inane and mad near a few barrels of rum, wine, beer, juice, etc. Their unmarked property assures that it is not of a soul’s awareness, which barrel contains what. It was a gamble, but wasn’t also being at this carnival? A place to be whomever and act however without discomfort or fear.
I pour myself a handle of the second barrel’s contents. With a sip, I’m pleased to find myself consuming wine. As I stand near the stand, a stag walks over to me. His mask was black with golden accents and showed the lower half of his face. The beauty and detail left me in awe. I’ve never seen someone with such a mask. I nodded softly, readjusting my hood and mask as I stopped drinking.
“Tell me, what are you drinking,” the stag asked with an accent that left me feeling confused as I attempted to pinpoint its origin.
“Red wine.”
“I see. Which barrel? They never mark these barrels for some idiotic reason.” A scowl formed on the man’s face as he looked at the barrels with distaste.
I smiled under my mask, appreciating the stag’s scowl. “The second.”
“Ah, thank you. I appreciate your help.” He pours himself a wine glass of the drink before moving to stand next to me. “Have you come to the festival before? You seem… out of place.”
“No. This is my first time. I was invited by Dr. Bl—… the um… the woman in the bluejay mask.” I shifted uncomfortably, tilting my head towards her direction.
“Dr. Alana Bloom?”
My head perks up at the mention of her name, tilting lightly.
“She’s a friend of mine,” he explains instantly, “I would rather not provide any other details as they would hint at my identity, but please be reassured that I do know Dr. Bloom quite well. Do not hesitate to converse about her with me.”
I nod, although the fact doesn’t console me fully. I continued, “She asked me to come here. Provided my mask and everything.”
“Do you enjoy it here?”
“As you mentioned, this is not my scene.”
“Then pray tell, what is your scene, my dear?”
I hesitate for a moment looking in the stag’s mask. It was as black and dark as a nightmare’s soul or as a raven’s death. “What’s yours?”
He stays quiet, turning back to the crowd in front of them.
It stays like that for a while. The two of them together watching the others dance and drink. For a moment I see a moth attempt to court a red dragon before the dragon declines and turns away.
“Ballrooms.”I snap my head back to the stag upon hearing his newly sincere voice harboring a new emotion or maybe lack of one. “Or my kitchen,” he continues.
“Your kitchen? Do you cook? A stag like you, I would’ve assumed you to afford many maids and cooks,” I say, looking into the mask. I’m sure that the fortune it must’ve cost to make would’ve sent me to the slums.
“I can, but I prefer to make my own food. No one else would make it the way I prefer.”
I hum in understanding. “I see. I’m sure you are a wonderful cook.” He hums and nods his head.
“Would you like to find out, my knight?” My head whips around towards him, his words taking me by surprise.
“That’s impossible, stag. The masks.”
“We can eat with masks. Ask Alana for one which leaves the bottom half of your face open. We can meet again here, at the same time, tomorrow night. I will be wearing the same mask. If you do not wish to, then do not show up.” The stag looks within the crowd spotting a jester walking further into it, pushing a woman butterfly along as he laughs at her. “I’m afraid I must part. My hunger is only growing, and I must prepare dinner. I yearn to meet again, my knight.” The stag bows before making his exit, walking towards where the jester was previously, going after him. They must know each other, I conclude, watching as he leaves.
The festival was nearly closed, and the crowds had almost completely dissipated. Nearby, a bluejay waves goodbye to a woman in a pig mask. She began to trot over upon realizing my location. “Will, I’ve been looking for you. Where did you go?”
“Alana, I just went to get a drink. Who was that?” I walked over to meet her halfway.
“I don’t know, but she was nice. I wish I managed to get her name. Shall we be off?”
I nodded as she led me back to her abode. The building was in one of the many lantern-lit alleys. The walls only further reminded me of my home in Florence, causing an itch to form where the heart beats and the bones grow.
As we arrived inside, we stripped off our concealing attire. I laid my mask on the table and hung my coat on the coat rack. I studied her as she took off her costume. “Alana,” I hesitantly began, “could I attend alongside you again tomorrow night? Maybe in a mask that allows me better access to my mouth?”
Alana gave me a suspicious glance. “Oh? And what would you need it for? Don’t tell me you plan a night of pleasure for yourself tomorrow with some handsome lady?”
I felt my face tense as I turned towards the fireplace. I managed a quick shake of my head as I spoke, “No, no. Nothing of the sort. I just got hungry. It was difficult to get nourishment and quench my thirst with this mask; although, I do marvel at its beauty. It was just a little-“ I paused, trying to find the word, “suffocating.” would greatly appreciate a more appropriate mask.”
Alana nodded and went to her bedroom before coming out with a gorgeous mask in hand. It was detailed with a bone-white coloring and two things that looked like ears on the side of it. She handed it to me carefully. “I went to it as a lamb a few years back. It was…enjoyable. I hope you find the same outcome.”
I attempt to hand it back to her after feeling the hills of the lines and the cannons. “Surely you can hold onto it for me until morning.”Yet, she hands it right back.
“Keep it. You never know when you might need it.” She smirks and takes her stuff as she heads back into her bedroom. “You best be leaving for your inn. I hear that it will rain before morning.”
-
As I lay in my bed for the night, my mind kept trembling with restless moths of thoughts, crowding the lightbulb of my sanity. In the pitch of my room, my eyes kept trying to identify the white lamb mask on my dresser, but they were left to only imagine its curves and indents.
Eventually, I shut my eyes. My mind drifts off to the darker place it usually finds residence. The woods crackle and live soundly around me as I look past black, stretching trees. In it, I see a familiar suited man with a familiar black mask. He huffs as red coats his figure. A sickening cut is heard causing me to stumble on a branch, breaking it. He spins around to face me. The mask…isn’t a mask at all. It connects to its person, merging into an overwhelming beast. A black, tall, lanky stag-man stands before me covered in blood. He was something out of children’s horrific nightmares and warnings. It creeps towards me before offering a long, lanky hand. Its fingers were twisted like tree branches and as sickening as bloody organs.
“Would you care for a dance, my lamb in knight’s clothing?”
-
The next night I hesitated at the entrance. The sounds of laughter and enthusiasm were overwhelming to hear as he studied the grounds.
“Will? What’s wrong? You look nervous. You weren’t nervous last night.” Alana looks at me with a furrowed brow, rubbing her soft palms over my coat. I remember a time when I used to fawn over her touch, and frequently find my gaze drifting back to her, now I just enjoy the company.
“I didn’t- I didn’t have plans tonight. I may leave tonight without you.”
“You will?”
“I might,” I correct immediately. She raises a brow. “I’m ok.”
“You were just hyperventilating.”
“I’m- I will be ok.”
“Will, tell me what’s going on.”
I hesitate, glancing into the crowd, and catching sight of the barrels. They appear alone. A frown crosses my face without apparent reason.
“Will? Are you ok?” She takes ahold of my shoulder, trying to ground me.
“Yeah, yeah. I just-…I’ll be ok. I’ve got this. I’ll be seeing you.” I leave her standing aimless and confused as I make my way through the crowd towards the barrels.
Once I arrive, the place is lonely. Not a mask in sight, much to my dismay. I pour myself a glass of the liquid in the second barrel. My face scrunches in disgust at the taste of beer after assuming wine.
A hollow laugh erupts beside me, making me whip my head towards them. “I suppose the second barrel isn’t red wine tonight, is it?”
It was the stag. His appearance brings a smile to my face. “Stag.”
“My knight, I love tonight’s mask. A lamb, yes?” I nod. “It looks beautiful on you.”
I turn back to my drink, wishing the mask covered more of my lower face. “I believe you promised me dinner, Stag.”
“I did. How could I forget?” He offers me his arm. “Shall we be off? My home isn’t far from here.”
Hesitantly I link my arm around his, letting him lead me to his abode.
—
Test for ending:
Pain seared and burned like molten lava as the blade began to carve a slit into the folds of my skin, tainting them scarlet. The blade lifted for a moment before moving to the next area for an incision. My hands wrapped the wrist, stilling the knife as it pressed softly against my skin, eliciting a small bead of blood.
My eyes blur as I look past him… at him… the pitch, lanky figure carving me like dinner. “I see you,” I rasp, softly. My voice barely evolved to a whisper. The wind brushing branches against the panels of glass windows almost hid my speech.
My hand fell slowly as I watched the eyes above me. Crimson eyes studied mine as we held each other’s gaze. “I let you see me,” he corrected quietly. His voice hid an emotion buried deep like a skeleton in a ditch. If I believed that he cared about me any more than a random stranger picked as a victim, then I would've mistaken it for remorse or regret.
I felt as he fixed his grip on the blade, pressing it in again slightly. I didn't realize that it had faltered, previously. “I truly am sorry, William. You’ve been like no other…” He pauses for a moment, studying my eyes again, a new hunger filling them. “For you, I think that I'll eat your heart first.”
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Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.
NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.
I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.
The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.
Because it's so hard to exist in this world.
My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:
Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)
Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.
Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.
Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.
Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.
Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s
I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.
So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".
Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)
Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.
If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.
NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD
Stigma in the DSM
Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)
"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."
(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)
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AO3 Ship Stats: Year In Bad Data
You may have seen this AO3 Year In Review.
It hasn’t crossed my tumblr dash but it sure is circulating on twitter with 3.5M views, 10K likes, 17K retweets and counting. Normally this would be great! I love data and charts and comparisons!
Except this data is GARBAGE and belongs in the TRASH.
I first noticed something fishy when I realized that Steve/Bucky – the 5th largest ship on AO3 by total fic count – wasn’t on this Top 100 list anywhere. I know Marvel’s popularity has fallen in recent years, but not that much. Especially considering some of the other ships that made it on the list. You mean to tell me a femslash HP ship (Mary MacDonald/Lily Potter) in which one half of the pairing was so minor I had to look up her name because she was only mentioned once in a single flashback scene beat fandom juggernaut Stucky? I call bullshit.
Now obviously jumping to conclusions based on gut instinct alone is horrible practice... but it is a good place to start. So let’s look at the actual numbers and discover why this entire dataset sits on a throne of lies.
Here are the results of filtering the Steve/Bucky tag for all works created between Jan 1, 2023 and Dec 31, 2023:
Not only would that place Steve/Bucky at #23 on this list, if the other counts are correct (hint: they're not), it’s also well above the 1520-new-work cutoff of the #100 spot. So how the fuck is it not on the list? Let’s check out the author’s FAQ to see if there’s some important factor we’re missing.
The first thing you’ll probably notice in the FAQ is that the data is being scraped from publicly available works. That means anything privated and only accessible to logged-in users isn’t counted. This is Sin #1. Already the data is inaccurate because we’re not actually counting all of the published fics, but the bots needed to do data collection on this scale can't easily scrape privated fics so I kinda get it. We’ll roll with this for now and see if it at least makes the numbers make more sense:
Nope. Logging out only reduced the total by a couple hundred. Even if one were to choose the most restrictive possible definition of "new works" and filter out all crossovers and incomplete fics, Steve/Bucky would still have a yearly total of 2,305. Yet the list claims their total is somewhere below 1,500? What the fuck is going on here?
Let’s look at another ship for comparison. This time one that’s very recent and popular enough to make it on the list so we have an actual reference value for comparison: Nick/Charlie (Heartstopper). According to the list, this ship sits at #34 this year with a total of 2630 new works. But what’s AO3 say?
Off by a hundred or so but the values are much closer at least!
If we dig further into the FAQ though we discover Sin #2 (and the most egregious): the counting method. The yearly fic counts are NOT determined by filtering for a certain time period, they’re determined by simply taking a snapshot of the total number of fics in a ship tag at the end of the year and subtracting the previous end-of-year total. For example, if you check a ship tag on Jan 1, 2023 and it has 10,000 fics and check it again on Jan 1, 2024 and it now has 12,000 fics, the difference (2,000) would be the number of "new works" on this chart.
At first glance this subtraction method might seem like a perfectly valid way to count fics, and it’s certainly the easiest way, but it can and did have major consequences to the point of making the entire dataset functionally meaningless. Why? If any older works are deleted or privated, every single one of those will be subtracted from the current year fic count. And to make the problem even worse, beginning at the end of last year there was a big scare about AI scraping fics from AO3, which caused hundreds, if not thousands, of users to lock down their fics or delete them.
The magnitude of this fuck up may not be immediately obvious so let’s look at an example to see how this works in practice.
Say we have two ships. Ship A is more than a decade old with a large fanbase. Ship B is only a couple years old but gaining traction. On Jan 1, 2023, Ship A had a catalog of 50,000 fics and ship B had 5,000. Both ships have 3,000 new works published in 2023. However, 4% of the older works in each fandom were either privated or deleted during that same time (this percentage is was just chosen to make the math easy but it’s close to reality).
Ship A: 50,000 x 4% = 2,000 removed works
Ship B: 5,000 x 4% = 200 removed works
Ship A: 3,000 - 2,000 = 1,000 "new" works
Ship B: 3,000 - 200 = 2,800 "new" works
This gives Ship A a net gain of 1,000 and Ship B a net gain of 2,800 despite both fandoms producing the exact same number of new works that year. And neither one of these reported counts are the actual new works count (3,000). THIS explains the drastic difference in ranking between a ship like Steve/Bucky and Nick/Charlie.
How is this a useful measure of anything? You can't draw any conclusions about the current size and popularity of a fandom based on this data.
With this system, not only is the reported "new works" count incorrect, the older, larger fandom will always be punished and it’s count disproportionately reduced simply for the sin of being an older, larger fandom. This example doesn’t even take into account that people are going to be way more likely to delete an old fic they're no longer proud of in a fandom they no longer care about than a fic that was just written, so the deletion percentage for the older fandom should theoretically be even larger in comparison.
And if that wasn't bad enough, the author of this "study" KNEW the data was tainted and chose to present it as meaningful anyway. You will only find this if you click through to the FAQ and read about the author’s methodology, something 99.99% of people will NOT do (and even those who do may not understand the true significance of this problem):
The author may try to argue their post states that the tags "which had the greatest gain in total public fanworks” are shown on the chart, which makes it not a lie, but a error on the viewer’s part in not interpreting their data correctly. This is bullshit. Their chart CLEARLY titles the fic count column “New Works” which it explicitly is NOT, by their own admission! It should be titled “Net Gain in Works” or something similar.
Even if it were correctly titled though, the general public would not understand the difference, would interpret the numbers as new works anyway (because net gain is functionally meaningless as we've just discovered), and would base conclusions on their incorrect assumptions. There’s no getting around that… other than doing the counts correctly in the first place. This would be a much larger task but I strongly believe you shouldn’t take on a project like this if you can’t do it right.
To sum up, just because someone put a lot of work into gathering data and making a nice color-coded chart, doesn’t mean the data is GOOD or VALUABLE.
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