Bruna. 28. Bisexual. Brazil. I've got a film degree.
Sometimes I post mature content, so I'll ask to only follow me if you're 18+.
This is a multifandom blog. Expect lots of Hannibal and Star Trek. Also Vampire Chronicles. Lots of movies. There will be on occasion rock bands and singers. Also books and TV shows and random stuff.
Check my About Me and the links in the navigation page to see more info.
(I know there’s a lot of new fans on fandom these days, so fair warning - this post has heavy spoilers of Merrick, the seventh book of the Vampire Chronicles. Scroll past this post if you don’t want to be spoiled.)
So, I’ve been skimming the books and thinking a lot about Claudia this week, and how changing her age will inevitably change so much about her core character and what direction the show may take with her, so I’ve been skimming Merrick quite a bit. It remains honestly such a baffling book, even many years after I read it. I actually do like Merrick, or the idea of her, but the way David speaks of her, the interactions with Louis… ugh.
But anyway, Claudia. In the books, Claudia becomes a woman trapped in the body of a five year old child. The heart of her fury and desire for revenge is the horror that her mind and her desires age with time while she will forever have the appearence of a very small girl.
And the thing about Claudia is that she’s one of the coldest, most merciless vampires because she’s pure vampire. Claudia was turned too young to have human memories, human sympathies or influences; her infancy memories are all associated with being a bloodthirsty murderer alongside her fathers.
This reflects a lot in the way that she decides to kill Lestat - it’s both a vengeful and a practical decision, and in the bits of her diary we see in Merrick, she frames that decision with the base that it would be easier for her to control Louis.
And it had to be Lestat, of course - since Lestat was the one holding back knowledge, the one who didn’t want them to meet the others, it had to be him that Claudia had to kill. But despite the many issues I have with Merrick (which are…. a lot), I do like how this is framed, because it fits with my conception of Claudia as a characters in the books - love and hate for her fathers in equal messure.
And a single mindedness to get what she wants.
Even as she discusses love and hate and the pain of her existence, there’s a coldness and practicity in Claudia that is reflective of the humanity she lacks. She’s furious because she has the knowledge that Lestat and Louis took something irreplaceable from her whe she was turned, but she lacks the proper tools to properly mourn the loss of her humanity because she never fully experienced that.
In the show, I think a direction they could take is to completely flip around her character in the opposite direction.
After all, Claudia in the show will be turned at fourteen years old - right in the middle of her adolescence. Contrary to the books, she’ll remember humanity alright, and maybe? Maybe she could remember it too much.
Her tragedy will be to be forever stuck at her teenage years, not a child anymore but far from an adult, in an age where everything is too much and not enough and emotions run too high and too intense, and I think that, instead of being too cold and unfeeling, maybe she’ll be too passional and intense.
Everything is speculation right now (and the reason why I wanted to write this before she makes her debut), but I think this could be a possible direction for her character that they could take.
(In an unrelated last note about Merrick: this books still is baffling, but Louis’ goodbye letter and the part where he addresses Lestat still pulls a bit at my heartstrings.)
I allowed myself to forget how totally I had fallen in
love with Lestat’s iridescent eyes, that I’d sold my soul for a
manycolored and luminescent thing, thinking that a highly reflective
surface conveyed the power to walk on water.
“What would Christ need have done to make me follow him like Matthew or
Peter? Dress well, to begin with. And have a luxurious head of pampered
yellow hair. — Interview With The Vampire
It
was as if the empty nights were made for thinking of him. And sometimes
I found myself so vividly aware of him it was as if he had only just
left the room and the ring of his voice were still there. And somehow
there was a disturbing comfort in that, and, despite myself, I’d
envision his face - not as it had been the last night in the fire, but
on other nights, that last evening he spent with us at home, his hand
playing idly with the keys of the spinet, his head tilted to one side. A
sickness rose in me more wretched than anguish when I saw what my
dreams were doing. I wanted him alive! — Interview With The Vampire
Lestat,
in fact, had aroused in me feelings which I hadn’t wished to confide in
anyone, feelings I’d wished to forget, despite Claudia’s death. Hatred
had not been one of them. — Interview With The Vampire
And
why should I bother to tell of the times he came to me in wretched
anxiety, begging me never to leave him, of the times we walked together
and talked together, acted Shakespeare together for Claudia’s amusement,
or went arm in arm to hunt the riverfront taverns or to waltz with the
dark-skinned beauties of the celebrated quadroon balls?
Read between the lines. — The Vampire Lestat
“Have you forgotten what it was like when we had the world all around us, and no one could hurt us except ourselves?”
“Is this an offer, Louis? Have you come back to me, as lovers say?”
His eyes darkened and he looked away from me.
“I’m not mocking you, Louis,” I said.
“You’ve come back to me,
Lestat,” he said evenly, looking at me again. “When I heard the first
whispers of you at Dracula’s Daughter, I felt something that I thought
was gone forever. — The Vampire Lestat
Louis,
the watcher, the patient one, was there on account of love pure and
simple. The two had found each other only last night, and theirs had
been an extraordinary reunion. Louis would go where Lestat led him.
Louis would perish if Lestat perished. But their fears and hopes for
this night were heartbreakingly human. — The Queen of the Damned
Stupidly
I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting
with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out
with it.
“Do you love me now?” I asked.
He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. “Yes,” he said. — The Queen of the Damned
"I love you,” he said softly. I was amazed.“You’re
always looking for a way to triumph,” he continued. “You never give in.
But there is no way to triumph. This is purgatory we’re in, you and I.
All we can be is thankful that it isn’t actually hell.” — The Tale of the Body Thief
Sometimes you frighten me so badly I hurl sticks and stones at you. It’s
foolish. I’m glad to see you, though I dread admitting it. I shiver at
the thought that you might have really brought an end to yourself in the
desert! I can’t bear the thought of existence now without you! You
infuriate me! Why don’t you laugh at me? You’ve done it before. — The Tale of the Body Thief
“Have you suffered in my absence?” I asked, looking back at the altar.
Very soberly he answered, “It was pure hell.”
I didn’t reply.
“Each risk you take hurts me,” he said. “But that is my concern and my fault.”
“Why do you love me?” I asked.
“You know, you’ve always known. I wish I could be you. I wish I could know the joy you know all the time.”
“And the pain, you want that as well?”
"Your pain?” He smiled. “Certainly. I’ll take your brand of pain anytime, as they say.” — The Tale of the Body Thief
“Come
home with me,” he said. Such a human voice. So kind. “There’s time to
come here and reflect. Wouldn’t you rather be home, in the Quarter,
amongst our things?
If anything in the world could have truly
comforted me, he would have been the thing—with just the beguiling tilt
of his narrow head or the way that he kept looking at me, protecting me
obviously with a confidential calm from what he must have feared for me,
and for him, and perhaps for all of us. — Memnoch the Devil
“I’ll be down there, in our rooms,” he said, “waiting for you. They can’t keep you here much longer.” — Memnoch the Devil
I don’t live like our friend Louis, wandering from dusty corner to
dusty corner, and then back to his flat in the Rue Royale when he’s
convinced himself once more and for the thousandth time that no one can
harm Lestat. — The Vampire Armand
And that perhaps was the real change in him, the change that he welcomed—that he could see himself as part now of all this great and glistening world. He was not part of some mindless force that sought to destroy it. No, he was part of it. He was part of this, this night with its sweet mild rain, and this whispering garden with its fragrant flowers and its trees, and the breezes that moved their branches. And he was part of the roar of the city rising around him, and part of the sharp shining music that came from within the house. He was part of the grass beneath his feet, and the tiny relentless hordes of winged things that sought to devour the human waiting there helplessly for a proper grave.
He thought of Lestat again, confident, smiling, wearing the mantle of power as easily as he had always worn his finery, old and new.
He said under his breath:“Beloved maker, beloved Prince, I will be with you soon.” — Prince Lestat
He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god.” — Prince Lestat and The Realms of Atlantis
“I love you with my whole soul, and I will always love you,” he confided to me. “You are my life. I have hated you for that and love you now so much that you’ve been my instructor in loving. And believe me when I say you will survive this, and that you must for all of us. You will survive because you always have and you always will.” — Blood Communion
I allowed myself to forget how totally I had fallen in
love with Lestat’s iridescent eyes, that I’d sold my soul for a
manycolored and luminescent thing, thinking that a highly reflective
surface conveyed the power to walk on water.
“What would Christ need have done to make me follow him like Matthew or
Peter? Dress well, to begin with. And have a luxurious head of pampered
yellow hair. — Interview With The Vampire
It
was as if the empty nights were made for thinking of him. And sometimes
I found myself so vividly aware of him it was as if he had only just
left the room and the ring of his voice were still there. And somehow
there was a disturbing comfort in that, and, despite myself, I’d
envision his face - not as it had been the last night in the fire, but
on other nights, that last evening he spent with us at home, his hand
playing idly with the keys of the spinet, his head tilted to one side. A
sickness rose in me more wretched than anguish when I saw what my
dreams were doing. I wanted him alive! — Interview With The Vampire
Lestat,
in fact, had aroused in me feelings which I hadn’t wished to confide in
anyone, feelings I’d wished to forget, despite Claudia’s death. Hatred
had not been one of them. — Interview With The Vampire
And
why should I bother to tell of the times he came to me in wretched
anxiety, begging me never to leave him, of the times we walked together
and talked together, acted Shakespeare together for Claudia’s amusement,
or went arm in arm to hunt the riverfront taverns or to waltz with the
dark-skinned beauties of the celebrated quadroon balls?
Read between the lines. — The Vampire Lestat
"Have you forgotten what it was like when we had the world all around us, and no one could hurt us except ourselves?”
“Is this an offer, Louis? Have you come back to me, as lovers say?”
His eyes darkened and he looked away from me.
“I’m not mocking you, Louis,” I said.
“You’ve come back to me,
Lestat,” he said evenly, looking at me again. “When I heard the first
whispers of you at Dracula’s Daughter, I felt something that I thought
was gone forever. — The Vampire Lestat
Louis,
the watcher, the patient one, was there on account of love pure and
simple. The two had found each other only last night, and theirs had
been an extraordinary reunion. Louis would go where Lestat led him.
Louis would perish if Lestat perished. But their fears and hopes for
this night were heartbreakingly human. — The Queen of the Damned
Stupidly
I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting
with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out
with it.
“Do you love me now?” I asked.
He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. “Yes,” he said. — The Queen of the Damned
"I love you,” he said softly. I was amazed.“You’re
always looking for a way to triumph,” he continued. “You never give in.
But there is no way to triumph. This is purgatory we’re in, you and I.
All we can be is thankful that it isn’t actually hell.” — The Tale of the Body Thief
Sometimes you frighten me so badly I hurl sticks and stones at you. It’s
foolish. I’m glad to see you, though I dread admitting it. I shiver at
the thought that you might have really brought an end to yourself in the
desert! I can’t bear the thought of existence now without you! You
infuriate me! Why don’t you laugh at me? You’ve done it before. — The Tale of the Body Thief
“Have you suffered in my absence?” I asked, looking back at the altar.
Very soberly he answered, “It was pure hell.”
I didn’t reply.
“Each risk you take hurts me,” he said. “But that is my concern and my fault.”
“Why do you love me?” I asked.
“You know, you’ve always known. I wish I could be you. I wish I could know the joy you know all the time.”
“And the pain, you want that as well?”
"Your pain?” He smiled. “Certainly. I’ll take your brand of pain anytime, as they say.” — The Tale of the Body Thief
“Come
home with me,” he said. Such a human voice. So kind. “There’s time to
come here and reflect. Wouldn’t you rather be home, in the Quarter,
amongst our things?
If anything in the world could have truly
comforted me, he would have been the thing—with just the beguiling tilt
of his narrow head or the way that he kept looking at me, protecting me
obviously with a confidential calm from what he must have feared for me,
and for him, and perhaps for all of us. — Memnoch the Devil
“I’ll be down there, in our rooms,” he said, “waiting for you. They can’t keep you here much longer.” — Memnoch the Devil
I don’t live like our friend Louis, wandering from dusty corner to
dusty corner, and then back to his flat in the Rue Royale when he’s
convinced himself once more and for the thousandth time that no one can
harm Lestat. — The Vampire Armand
And that perhaps was the real change in him, the change that he welcomed—that he could see himself as part now of all this great and glistening world. He was not part of some mindless force that sought to destroy it. No, he was part of it. He was part of this, this night with its sweet mild rain, and this whispering garden with its fragrant flowers and its trees, and the breezes that moved their branches. And he was part of the roar of the city rising around him, and part of the sharp shining music that came from within the house. He was part of the grass beneath his feet, and the tiny relentless hordes of winged things that sought to devour the human waiting there helplessly for a proper grave.
He thought of Lestat again, confident, smiling, wearing the mantle of power as easily as he had always worn his finery, old and new.
He said under his breath:“Beloved maker, beloved Prince, I will be with you soon.” — Prince Lestat
He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god.” — Prince Lestat and The Realms of Atlantis
“I love you with my whole soul, and I will always love you,” he confided to me. “You are my life. I have hated you for that and love you now so much that you’ve been my instructor in loving. And believe me when I say you will survive this, and that you must for all of us. You will survive because you always have and you always will.” — Blood Communion
I wanted to forget him, and yet it seemed I thought of him always. It was as if the empty nights were made for thinking of him. And sometimes I found myself so vividly aware of him it was as if he had only just left the room and the ring of his voice were still there. And somehow there was a disturbing comfort in that, and, despite myself, I’d envision his face - not as it had been the last night in the fire, but on other nights, that last evening he spent with us at home, his hand playing idly with the keys of the spinet, his head tilted to one side. A sickness rose in me more wretched than anguish when I saw what my dreams were doing. I wanted him alive! In the dark nights of eastern Europe, Lestat was the only vampire I’d found.
Interview With The Vampire (1976)
"But why, Lestat? “ he asked a little suspiciously. “Why the danger, the risk? After all, you have done it. You have come back. You’re stronger than ever. You have the old fire as if it had never been lost, and you know how precious this is, this will simply to go on. Why risk it immediately? Have you forgotten what it was like when we had the world all around us, and no one could hurt us except ourselves? ”
“Is this an offer, Louis? Have you come back to me, as lovers say?” His eyes darkened and he looked away from me.
“I’m not mocking you, Louis,” I said.
“You’ve come back to me, Lestat,” he said evenly, looking at me again. “When I heard the first whispers of you at Dracula’s Daughter, I felt something that I thought was gone forever- ” He paused. But I knew what he was talking about. He had already said it.
The Vampire Lestat (1985)
I smiled. I kissed him suddenly, thrilled by the warmth of him, the soft pliant feel of his near human skin. God, how I hated the whiteness of my fingers touching him, fingers that could have crushed him now effortlessly. I wondered if he even guessed.
There was so much I wanted to say to him, to ask him. Yet I couldn’t find the words really, or a way to begin. He had always had so many questions; and now he had his answers, more answers perhaps than he could ever have wanted; and what had this done to his soul? Stupidly I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out with it.
“Do you love me now?” I asked.
He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. “Yes,” he said.
The Queen of the Damned (1988)
He grew reflective again and very sad. It almost hurt me to look at him. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but that would only have made him furious.
“I love you,” he said softly.
I was amazed.
“You’re always looking for a way to triumph,” he continued. “You never give in. But there is no way to triumph. This is purgatory we’re in, you and I. All we can be is thankful that it isn’t actually hell."
The Tale of The Body Thief (1992)
"Come home with me,” he said. Such a human voice. So kind. “There’s time to come here and reflect. Wouldn’t you rather be home, in the Quarter, amongst our things?”
If anything in the world could have truly comforted me, he would have been the thing—with just the beguiling tilt of his narrow head or the way that he kept looking at me, protecting me obviously with a confidential calm from what he must have feared for me, and for him, and perhaps for all of us.
My old familiar gentleman friend, my tender enduring pupil, educated as truly by Victorian ways of courtesy as ever by me in the ways of being a monster.
Memnoch the Devil (1995)
“I’ll spend the next few evenings with Lestat,” Louis said quietly. “I want to read to him. He doesn’t respond but he doesn’t stop me. You’ll know where to find me when Merrick returns.”
“Does he never say anything to you?” I asked, regarding Lestat.
“Sometimes he speaks, just a little. He’ll ask for Mozart perhaps, or that I read him some old poetry. But in the main, he’s as you see him yourself, unchanged.” He paused, then looked directly at the sky. “I want to be alone with him for a few nights, I suppose, before Merrick comes back.”
His tone had a finality to it, and a sadness that touched me to the quick. He was saying farewell to Lestat, that’s what he was doing, and I knew that Lestat’s slumber was so deep and so troubled, that even such a dreadful message from Louis might not rouse him at all.
Merrick (2000)
I
stopped. I put my arm around him. I held him close to me.
“I’m Lestat,” I said in a low voice. “Your Lestat. I’m the same Lestat
you’ve always known, and no matter how I’m changed, I’m still that same
being.”
“I know,” he said warmly.
I kissed him. I pressed my lips to his and I held this kiss for a long
silent moment. And then I gave in to a silent wave of feeling, and I
took him in my arms. I held him tight against me. I felt his
unmistakable silken skin, his soft shining black hair. I heard the blood throbbing in him, and time dissolved, and it seemed I was in some old
and secret place, some warm tropical grotto we’d once shared, ours alone
in some way, with the scent of sweet olive blossoms and the whisper of
moist breeze.
“I love you,” I whispered.
In a low intimate voice, he answered: “My heart is yours.”
Prince Lestat (2014)
“Very well,” Louis said.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged and smiled.
“I’ll come if you want me. I’ll come and I’ll stay and I’ll be your companion if you want. I don’t know why you want this or how long you’ll want it, or what it’s going to be like, being with you and watching all your antics up close, and trying to be of help and not knowing how to be of help, but I’ll come. I’m tired of fighting it; I give up; I’ll come.”
I couldn’t believe I’d heard right. I stared at him as helplessly as I had in the hallway of the townhouse when I’d first seen him, trying to grasp what he had said.
He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god.”
Prince Lestat and The Realms of Atlantis (2016)
“When I was finally led down the stairs, Louis came with me. In the
darkened passage before my resting place, he embraced me and held tight
to me, his lips pressed to my ear. I was aware of my hands moving over
his hair, embracing his neck, drawing him ever closer, in a way I had
never done in our long years in New Orleans. We joined in the posture of
lovers, brothers, fathers with sons.
“I love you with my whole soul, and I will always love you”, he confided
to me. “You are my life. I have hated you for that and love you now so
much that you’ve been my instructor in loving. And believe me when I say
you will survive because you always have and you always will.”
I couldn’t answer. I knew I loved him more than words could say, but I couldn’t respond.”
I was tagged by @marley-manson to do this little fanfiction tropes tier game a few days ago and I finally had time to sit down and do it - even if it took me a while because I’m indecisive and I kept changing positions lmao. If I think too hard I may ending up just changing it again
overall my classification was something like
S - favorite things I look for in fic, can make me click right way
A - tropes I strong like when done right
B - tropes I like when done right but actually hate when it’s badly written (ot even half-assed)
C - tropes I’m mostly neutral/indifferent about. Wouldn’t say I actually dislike all of these but It has to be really very well written for me to like.
D - tropes I usually dislike, some of them I would say I hate lmao. I’m a never-say-never kind of gal but it really has to be exceptionally well written for me to like these ones
*
I liked this game because it made me think of the things I usually crave in fics in a way I probably hadn’t before lmao. Like I realized that my love for dark fics came before I started to really get into Hannibal but Hannigram solidified my absolute love for this trope (since any canon or slight-canon-diverge Hannibal fic is usually by default a dark fic lmao). Mutual pinning, slow burn, lots of angst are major favorites as well.
And things like ABO or crossovers… I actually love crossovers of some things but it’s SO rare to find good crossover fics, nearly impossible. Back in my first DS9 watch I think I found some good ones in the old Trek archive but it’s not a common thing. And ABO… I have read some fics in this setting that were very good but I like it when it challenges the setting in some day. I also like when the author does an alpha/alpha or omega/omega pairing for the main ship in a way to explore that universe’s prejudices but again, it’s a rare thing and mostly ABO are just kind of terrible or horny. Horny and short can be good sometimes but I can’t excuse the terrible ones lmao
It depends on the pairing, but I’m known for enjoying unhappy endings and major character death fics. I like happy endings too, but some fics with unhappy endings hit just the right way, you know? Same for major character death, with the warning that I NEED to know i’m about to go head first into a tragedy. I really need the major character death warning, if the author puts this in the story out of nowhere it’s their prerogative but it can ruin the whole story for me permanently.
I don’t actually HATE college/high school/coffee shop and similar mundane AUs but they tend to blend together into one same boring thing for me and it’s rare to find one that stands out. Not impossible ofc - I remember reading a human florist/tattoo shop A/C fic that was really good because it explored Aziraphale’s self internalized homophobia in a way I really liked but this is not a thing it usually occurs to me.
I hate fics with pregnancy (other reason why it’s rare for me to find ABO fics I like lmao), love triangles are often a source of frustration and miscommunication when overly done can make me give up on a fic. I put crack fic in this category of stuff I usually dislike, but I would also like to say that I actually love Crack Treated Seriously very much. But straight up crack is very rarely good lmao
This got very long! I’m not tagging people because I don’t know which mutuals and followers are very into reading fic like me, but if you want to do this game feel free to consider yourself tagged, it’s really a lot of fun!
I always had a hard time understanding why Jack shows any measure of trust in Will after him tells to his face that he wishes he had ran away with Hannibal (twice), but I think that at,Ā long last, during this rewatch it dawned on me the reason why.
Because you see, Jack understands the appeal of this relationship for Hannibal. I think heās very insightful when he talks with Pazzi about it, about how Will is able to understand and accept Hannibal.
ALT
ALT
ALT
But I donāt think that Jack believes that Willās desire to be with Hannibal is genuine. I think he believes that this is a byproduct of Willās empathy being off the charts, and that he is confusing Hannibalās desires with his own.
He tells him as much, during Tome-Wan:
ALT
And when heās talking with Pazzi, he also tells him that he ābrokeā Willās imagination.
ALT
And in Dolce, when Will tells him part of him will always wants to be with Hannibal, he just tells him to cut it out.
ALT
I think this is why during the Red Dragon arc Jack still looks for Willās help. While I think by that time neither one of them is interested in their friendship anymore and their relationship is purely professional (even a hostile professional relationship at times), I think Jack still believes he can trust Will and use Willās imagination with moderation, since Hannibal is behind bars now, and because Will has a family now - therefore a more stable, grounded life.
Maybe he thinks Will finally shook off Hannibalās influence enough to move on with his life, and when Hannibal tries to have Willās family killed I think he believes he can trust that Will will finally be willing to permanently remove Hannibal from his life by killing him.
ALT
It is, of course, a very risky gamble. A gamble he loses, and one he pays for, dearly.
As a member of the audience, it may look for us like Jack is being too trusting and too naive, but I think itās fair to remember that Will has kept a LOT from him. Thereās so much Jack doesnāt know about his relationship with Hannibal.
Jack likely doesnāt know that Will willingly (even gleefully) partook in cannibalism with Randall Tierās organs in order to fool Hannibal that he had killed Freddie Lounds. He never heard Will telling Hannibal how much he enjoyed killing Hobbs and Tier, never saw their conversations by the fire. He never saw the way Will speaks with Chiyoh and what he does to her and the prisioner, and he never saw the way he threatens Bedelia.
He never saw the look on Willās face when Hannibal snapped Mason Vergerās neck.
He doesnāt know that Will was worried if Hannibal could ever be happy while in prison. He didnāt see the torn expression in his face when Hannibal didnāt give him a fully positive answer.
ALT
Most of all, he doesnāt know that, after the events of Mizumono, when Will fantasizes about a better world, he thinks about a world where he had chosen Hannibal sooner and had chose to go along and murder Jack with him.
ALT
Jackās perception of Will and Hannibalās relationship is distorted by how little he knows about how things really are beetween these two.
And I think Jack doesnāt want to believe in Will has such a darker side on his own, because Jack is not the kind of guy who likes to be this wrong. During Willās trial, he struggles with the idea of having been that wrong about him, that his instincts where so wrong. And since the first season Jack has a habit of choosing to believe in the version of events that will better suit him, not matter how likely or unlikely they are.
ALT
The idea that after how much he stood by him, that how much he bled and suffered by plotting with Will at the end of season two, that Will has the capacity for so much violence and darkness is something he doesnāt want to accept. Easier to see Will as someone who was broken and damaged, maybe beyond repair during the epic struggles Jack has with Hannibal in the course of the seasons than to believe this.
Alana tried to warn him as early as the end of season two that he didnāt know any of those men, and if he forced the issue, he was bound to lose.
I think that, during a potential season four, Jack would only realize the colossal weight of his mistake in trusting Will to handle the plan with Hannibalās āfakeā escape only when they had proof that Hannibal was still alive and Will had joined then, or when Bedelia showed up sans one leg.
But still, even with the ending that we got in the third season, Jackās decision to close his eyes to Willās darkness and genuine feelings for Hannibal ends up making Jack lose very, very badly.
How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why.
SEANASTIN as Samwise Gamgee in THELORDOFTHERINGSTRILOGY 2001-2003 | dir. Peter Jackson.
