What would you say the daughters of Will and Hannibal could be diagnosed as? Considering the vast amount of trauma they'd go through.
Will’s daughter could be HPD (histrionic personality disorder). Hannibal’s would likely have OCD.
Not really Hannibal-related, but do you know any other good series to watch that are somewhat intriguing as Hannibal Lecter? I'm having some troubles finding ones that can pick my interest
Nothing will peak your interest in the same way as Hannibal does because it is very specific. Specially if it had your interest in the relationship dynamic between two male characters. That’s even rarer. Some people like Killing Eve, and also Interview With a Vampire. I think those are the closest you’ll get to something Hannibal.
Can we know more about Amara's and Mia's apparence? really curious to know😆
I kind of imagine Mia having her father's curls for some reasons😅
-🐛
Will had tried so hard not to have a son, to not have to stare into a mirror and see himself staring back. But Mia, is him but a girl.
Who has his face softened, refined, twisted into something impossible to look away from. The big blue eyes, the thick lashes that cast shadows. Rosy cheeks that bloom too easily, cherry lips that glisten wet. Plump. She is always plump. Soft, thick thighs, a body that welcomes the world instead of shielding itself from it. She does not harden herself, she cultivates her flesh, keeps it lush, keeps it something to be touched.
Her nails are always long, red or black, curling delicately when she gestures. Her hair, thick and dark, moves like silk in water, gleaming under light as if it has been spun from something richer than keratin. She smells too much, sickly sweet, sugared rot, something that burns in the back of the throat. Incense, old wood, something acrid beneath it all.
She looks like dessert filled with poison.
Amara is a thing sculpted rather than born, a composition rather than a coincidence. Where others stumble into beauty, she wears it like a garment tailored to her form. She moves with intention, with grace. When she enters a room, heads turn without command, breath catches without permission. She does not demand attention, she simply exists, and the world bows accordingly.
She is delicate but not fragile, tall but slight, something elongated and refined. Her hair, pale as light itself, spills down her back like silk thread, each strand impossibly smooth. Her eyes honeyed, are set beneath perfectly carved brows, her cheekbones high, hollowed, pronounced. There is an elegance in her structure, an artistry in her form. A porcelain doll, but alive.
She is Hannibal’s perfect creation.
And she knows it.
Obsessed with your characters 😭. Curious if there's something Mia does that drives Will insane, or a pet peeve?
The carelessness, the casualness, the way she does things without a second thought, like she isn’t living in a world full of men who watch too closely, who think too much.
She gets into cars with guys he doesn’t know that well. She throws herself into their passenger seats with that lazy, languid ease, her hair spilling over her shoulders, her lips glossy and parted just enough to make his stomach turn. She’s too trusting. Or maybe she isn’t trusting at all, maybe she just likes to see what will happen. He can’t tell which is worse.
She doesn’t pick up his calls at night. When she doesn’t answer, something ugly crawls up his throat. She knows better. She knows what kind of thoughts get in his head when she doesn’t answer.
She walks into the bathroom when he’s showering. Just walks in. No hesitation, no announcement. She’ll lean against the sink, talk about something unimportant, completely unbothered.
She opens the door for deliveries in those damn pajamas. Thin, little things. He sees the way the delivery guys pause, the way their eyes hesitate before they hand over the package. She doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she does. He’s not sure which possibility is worse.
oh mia hates alana doesn't she? lol
Mia thinks Alana is irrelevant but is susced out that Will likes a woman who has the same coloring as her.
I love the way you answer with narrative, I feel like I'm reading tiny fics!😩 Can I ask about Mia's first relationship or kiss and if Will knew that and he reacted? -🪿
Mia learned about love the way she learned everything else…through Will.
She was six the first time she saw him kiss someone. A redhead, the neighbor. Just a passing moment on the front porch, nothing serious, nothing deep. But Mia had stood there, frozen, eyes wide with fury, demanding an explanation like he had just betrayed something sacred.
Will had laughed. She was so dramatic. He told her that’s how adults kiss.
That seemed to satisfy her, until she saw a pair of teenagers tangled together in a park, mouths locked, hands wandering.
“You said that was for adults.”
He glanced at her, unimpressed. “They’re criminals.”
And she believed him.
For years after, she would point at couples making out in public and declare them outlaws, sometimes even scolding them outright. Will thought it was hilarious. Until she came home one day, around eleven.
She had seen a teacher kissing a student. Mia confronted the student, trying to make sense of it, and the girl told her that’s just what people do when they love each other.
So Mia had come home and told Will, with complete conviction, “You don’t love me.”
The absurdity of it made him laugh. But beneath the amusement, something curdled. What teacher? He had her tell him everything. What she said, what she saw, who it was. He handled it. It turned into a mess. The man was arrested. It should have ended there. But it stuck with her. The way she held herself afterward. The way she looked at people. The way guilt gnawed at her.
She never talked about it.
At thirteen, she kissed a girl friend. She told Will, and he told her not to do that in public because people were cruel. Then she kissed a boy, and he yelled at her.
She was confused.
He never answered. Just apologized, like that could undo it. He pulled her from school soon after.
She learned to hide things from him.
The first time she was with a man, she came home shaking, bile rising in her throat. She locked herself in the bathroom, threw up, cried until her face was raw. Then she found him and spat the words like they were poison—this is your fault.
He didn’t understand. Couldn’t. She wouldn’t explain. Just curled into herself like something had broken inside her.
Years passed before he found out.
When he did, it unraveled something in him so violently that Mia locked herself in her room for two days.
wow that description of the last ask...why did she blame Will and what exactly did he do that freaked her out so much?
The letters. The drawings. The picture of them.
It was all laid out in front of him like something profane. It should not exist. It should never have existed. His vision blurred at the edges, nausea climbing his throat in thick, wet waves. His body rejected it before his mind could. He turned, heaved, emptied himself onto the floor.
Then he found him. Ended the man.
But he let him live. That was the worst part. The cruelest part. He let him live so he could feel it, could know, every second, that Will Graham had peeled back his skin and poured something dark inside him that would rot him from the inside out.
Then he came home. Blood dried stiff on his shirt. He tore it from his body and threw it at her.
She flinched.
He had been drinking.
Way too much.
His hands found her hair. Her back hit the wall.
She gasped, but he wasn’t looking at her. Not really. He was looking at something inside her, something that was made because of him, because of all of it, and he understood now. Why she said it was his fault. Why she came home shaking. Why she hated herself.
His hands found her face.
He could barely see her through the static in his brain.
He would never know of anything she did anymore.
What does Savannah look like?
Are there any other fankids showing up or is it just the trio?
She is small. Delicate. Fragile. She knows it, in the way she folds into herself, in the way she draped fabric over skin like a shield, in the way her hands curled inward as if to protect something soft, something breakable.
Her eyes are green, muted, secretive. Her skin was soft, pale in the right light. Thin, bony wrists disappeared into sleeves that were always too long, fingers twitching, grasping at nothing. Her hair is dark, long, hung like a curtain, veiling her, keeping her just out of reach.
She moves like someone who had learned not to take up space. And yet, she did. Even when she tried to disappear. Francis saw the trembling thing beneath the fabric, beneath the careful concealment. She could hide beneath all the layers in the world, but he would always see.
_
I think they will be the only ones showing up, but who knows haha.
Could I ask, what do you think would be a dynamic between Dolarhyde and a child of his with Reba in some world where the dragon can stay repressed just a bit longer?
Interesting thing to contemplate. I think if it was a boy, just like Will (they are very similar) he would project too much, see a mirror, be afraid the boy would turn out like him. A girl he would shelter way too much probably. See her as he saw Reba: precious and scared he could hurt. He would have a strange relationship with her. He loves her deeply but cannot connect on a obvious level or in the way he connected with Reba, through touch and affection. He would have a invisible connection with her, always there but not tangible, if that makes sense.
What do you think makes Will and Hannibal “identically different”?
If Will is the Moon, Hannibal is the Sun. Complementary, yet opposite. Identically different. They are two sides of the same coin. Yin and yang. Identical in their differences.
do you think will in rotten meat is very different than canon will?
He has canon Will’s personality and essence, but in Rotten we have his background and he also has a huge life changing difference which is Mia, who shaped a lot of who he currently is in the fic, so there’s that. And he has DID which canon Will plays into sometimes but doesn’t meet all the criteria for. But in general he’s very close to canon Will.
Correct me if I'm wrong but the vibes I get are: Will has Mia sleeping in his bed, and Hannibal had a fancy bassinet for Amara next to his bed. Will wakes up with tiny hands and lots of hair in his face, Hannibal falls asleep listening to baby Mozart
Hahahaha baby Mozart is funny. I will not correct you, the vibes are exactly that!
cannot stop thinking about single dads hannigram🙈 Will struggling to manage a baby and college/police academy, spilling milk all over his shirt, feeding mia in one hand, shaving in the other. And Hannibal chilling with four nannies and a nurse
This flashed in my head like a little montage hahaha.
Will was a mess. A complete, absolute disaster of a man.
The morning had started as it always did—Mia wailing at an ungodly hour, Will bolting upright in bed, disoriented, hair standing up like he’d been electrocuted. He barely had time to grab her bottle before she started making noises that could only be described as prelude to destruction. He held her in one arm, rocking her, while his other hand fumbled to pour milk into the bottle. His half-asleep brain miscalculated. The milk missed. Spilled down his uniform.
“Goddammit—”
Mia blinked up at him.
He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, watch the language.”
Still holding her, he shoved a spoonful of baby food into her mouth while gripping his razor in his other hand. He tilted his head, trying to shave without slicing his throat open, but Mia decided now was the perfect time to smack the spoon, sending mushy sweet potato onto his already ruined shirt.
“Great. Fantastic. Just wonderful.”
By the time he got to the academy, he looked like a man who had lost a fight with a blender. His shirt was wrinkled and vaguely orange. He had one spot on his chin that he’d completely forgotten to shave. His bag was barely hanging onto his shoulder as he lugged Mia inside, balancing his textbooks while muttering under his breath about how people shouldn’t have to choose between passing an exam and keeping a small human alive.
Meanwhile, across the country, Hannibal Lecter was having tea.
He sat in his pristine, art-filled home, dressed immaculately, a soft classical piece humming in the background. Mia was babbling nonsense to herself in Will’s arms, but here—here was Amara, quietly nibbling on a perfectly cut fruit arrangement prepared by one of the four nannies standing by in case she so much as coughed. A nurse stood nearby, making sure her little cardigan was perfectly buttoned.
Hannibal sipped his tea.
Will buying toddler clothes for Mia is something so funny and cute to my, I can't stop thinking about it 🙊
Will Graham had faced a lot of horrors in his life. He’d seen crime scenes that would make a grown man weep. He’d stared into the abyss of the human soul. He had fought sleep deprivation, emotional instability, and his own self-destructive tendencies.
But nothing had prepared him for the absolute nightmare that was shopping for toddler clothes.
He stood in the middle of the baby aisle, surrounded by an explosion of pastel chaos. Pinks, blues, yellows, tiny floral prints, polka dots, ducks. Why were there so many ducks? He rubbed his temples.
Mia was perched in the shopping cart, happily chewing on her own fist, completely unbothered by her father’s impending mental breakdown.
He picked up a tiny pink onesie with a bunny on it. “This is cute, right?” he muttered, showing it to Mia.
Mia blew a raspberry. Not helpful.
He grabbed a dress—frilly, full of lace, something that looked like it belonged to a doll from the 1800s. He held it up. “Nope. She’d kill me,” he muttered, tossing it back.
Then he made the mistake of looking at the sizes.
“12 months, 18 months, 2T… What the hell is 2T?” He squinted at the tag. “Who decided toddler sizing should be like reading ancient runes?”
A woman passing by gave him a sympathetic look. “How old is she?”
Will glanced at Mia, who had now stolen a pack of socks and was trying to eat the packaging. “Uh, almost two.”
“Then 2T should work!” she said cheerfully before disappearing down another aisle, completely oblivious to the existential crisis she had just caused.
He threw a couple of random outfits into the cart—some little overalls, a t-shirt with a weirdly aggressive-looking giraffe on it, a dress with strawberries because that seemed safe—and then he saw a tiny, soft, navy-blue hoodie.
It was the exact shade of his own favorite hoodie, the one he wore on days when he wanted to disappear into himself. It even had a little pocket in the front. She’d look just like him.
Without hesitation, he grabbed it.
Mia clapped her sticky hands together, delighted by absolutely nothing.
Will sighed, shaking his head. “You are the easiest part of this, you know that?”
She giggled. He took that as agreement.
hi Milk!! Huge fan of your essays and narrative writing. You have such a wonderfully unique perspective on everything. Im so fascinated by it, and it resonates very deeply pretty much all the time. Ive been loving Rotten Meat so far too! Im so compelled by the differences and similarities you've drawn between them all so far, as shown in the posts you've made expanding on the three girls.
I was wondering, just so I can sort of mentally gauge my expectations, what kind of story are you hoping to tell with Rotten Meat? Will it be a kind of twisted self-discovery like we see in the show for Will, but independently with each of these girls? Will it be them processing their fatherhood trauma together, messy healing and resisting? Enabling eachother, "getting worse," for a lack of easier terms? Is this more of a character exploration than anything else, letting the story unfold as you go now that you've laid the groundwork?
Thank you!! Keep up your amazing work!! I love checking your acc after a busy week!! You inspire me to write more myself!!
(P.S. - how do you feel about the idea of fan works such as fan art or writing, either loosely or directly, inspired by Rotten Meat?)
Thank you for your wonderful words, it’s so kind of you!
Rotten is a treatise on broken minds and how their shards wound those who hold them close. It’s a testimony of robbed girlhood, a commentary on human bonding, repression of desires, an exploration of the psychological fractures caused by the imposed construct of family, its inherent artificiality and the quiet violence it inflicts on the psyche. It is still a story about love, and how it shapes around trauma.
Hii Milk!🥺 Good to see signing me with the worm emoji was a great idea to make myself known even anonymously! I hope you don't hate me for the many questions I'm sending you haha.
This time not a question directed to Mia or Amara, but the old ask of the daddies' reaction to their daughter killing made me think of something else but I thought to wait a bit since we're all so hyped for Mia, Amara and Savannah😅
I don't know if you ever heard of a Yandere? A term used in mangas/fictional stories who talks about a girl/boy obsessed with someone so much that they go too far like stalking and killing anyone trying to get in their and their's crush way. But some cases of real yanderes existed, and the closest diagnosis of these 'lovesick' individuals would be BPD, ASPD and even DPD (according to Google and various symptoms).
Now, I'm not really into yandere stories because they are most of the time not well written and stereotyped to the bone. And also a personal reason of mine, because I had to deal with a lovesick individual myself. So this is why I tend to avoid these topic even if I'm finding them fascinating in some cases. And the case would be a thing I've been thinking a lot of times; What would be the reaction of the parents (who are equally messed up individuals, with a history of crimes behind their shoulders) to a potentional child that begans to show worrying signs as the time passes, and eventually finding the person, and everything begans to go low and lower?
So this is the question; What would be the reaction of Hannibal and Will, to a child (either male or female) who is showing problematic behaviour, especially when they grow and find the love of their life? Making them going extreme to get the person they adore?
Andddd I send an another long ask, sorry this sounds so sudden but y'know, the topics less discussed can turn in something interesting. I like to talk about my daydreamings/tales my brain suggest, so this is a warning itself.😭
-🐛
Hi worm 🐛, always nice to see you here!
I don’t think Will or Hannibal could judge their child for displaying lovesick behaviors hahaha. I think they would see a mirror of themselves. I think Hannibal would not discourage completely, and I think Will would let them know that it leads to very dark places. But ultimately they wouldn’t get in the way. They would be curious to see what happens.
I'm loving RM!! Nurse Matthew is Matthew Brown, right?
Yep! :)
There is something almost mystical about naming our inner experiences. To take something abstract…an emotion, a longing, an undefined ache, and shape it into words is an act of manifestation, a process of making the intangible tangible. Language does not simply describe; it brings forth. And when someone else finds the words we could not, it is as if they have unlocked something inside us, a door we didn’t know was there.
This phenomenon is more than poetic, it is deeply psychological. Studies in affect labeling have shown that putting emotions into words regulates our nervous system, reducing emotional distress and increasing cognitive clarity. Naming what we feel gives us a sense of control, a way to structure and process the chaos of our inner world. This is why music, poetry, and literature resonate so profoundly; they articulate what we struggle to express, creating an immediate, visceral connection between us and the artist. When a songwriter captures our exact feeling in a lyric, or when a poet gives language to an experience we thought was inexpressible, it is as if we have been seen, understood, and, in a way, completed.
This idea also has a spiritual dimension. In many traditions, to name something is to invoke it into being. Words are acts of creation; they give form to what was previously formless. In this sense, language is not just a tool for communication but a means of birth, of taking something from the depths of our psyche and bringing it into the external world.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the way Hannibal and Will relate to one another. Their connection is forged, in part, through language. From the moment they meet, Hannibal begins naming Will’s unspoken truths. “No forts in the bone arena of your skull for the things you love,” he says, and Will looks shaken, almost shocked. It is the first of many moments where Hannibal puts words to what Will has always felt but never articulated. Each time this happens, we see Will’s expression shift, sometimes in realization, sometimes in relief, as if something long submerged has finally surfaced.
Because if you can name it, you can see it. And if you can see it, you can control it.
See? See?
Studies and Articles:
Affect Labeling: One, Two, Three, Four, Five
Sorry if you have answered this - but post fall in H&W's new life, who do you think would initiate intimacy/affection? Do you think they would avoid it at first and then eventually it would all just burst out in a big encounter?? I often thought Will would be the one to break and to try something but I change my own mind a lot lol.
I always see this scene where Will is freaking out about something, screaming and accusing and Hannibal is just trying to stay composed, he’s breathing deeply and closing his eyes, mustering the patience, but then he just shoves Will into the wall and shuts him up with his own mouth. He stops. Will is shocked for a few seconds, then he’s unto Hannibal like a hungry beast.
