You know what; there is something respectable about Hannibal—he fucks around, fully accepting the consequences. That moment when Will shows up to his house after being acquitted and Hannibal jokes about his aftershave while Will holds him at gunpoint: When Will, sufficiently pissed off, cocks it at him and Hannibal just tilts his face away, eyes closed? Maybe he thought it was too big a gamble to tackle Will, maybe he thought Will wouldn’t shoot, maybe he was gonna fight back—but his fucking balls, man. He doesn’t give a shit. His conversations with freaking Cordell, “How would you cook my tongue, quick, we need to discuss your aptitude for cooking.” He nearly kills everybody in Mizumono in petty revenge, he tries to eat Will’s brain knowing he might regret it badly. In wrath of the lamb he goes to his safe house and the first thing he does is pour himself some wine as if Dolarhyde wasn’t just lurking in the bushes behind him. Fuck around and find out? No! He’s just a troll and consciously the pinnacle of adversity to himself and he never blames anybody inappropriately.