hi i'm that anon that asked about tighnari and fixing. since you said that he's someone with no fatal flaws, how open is he getting into a relationship?
[Character Analysis Ask Meme]
How open is Tighnari to a relationship?
To most members of the Forest Watchers, imagining their chief officer in a relationship is near impossible. It isn't that he'd be terrible in a relationship. No, actually, they think that he'd be an amazing partner. Though he can be strict, he's caring and reliable, observant and level-headed. Really, he's the complete package! It's just... Nobody has ever seen him show interest in anyone. And the few that showed interest in him and tried to flirt were swiftly shut down without mercy. Most agree that love seems to be the last thing on his mind.
What many are not aware of, however, is that as much as he isn't looking for a relationship, he isn't exactly not looking for a relationship either. Really, Tighnari isn't against falling in love. He sees its merits. He knows the comfort and satisfaction it brings. But it isn't something he exactly needs. Simply put, he's satisfied with what he has. He enjoys his life. He doesn't need more. Still, while he doesn't see the need to be in a relationship, should it come his way, he really wouldn't be all that against it if they're a good match. But there's no need to rush. It'll happen when the time comes.
That being said, should he become interested in someone, don't expect much fanfare or bombastic displays of affection. Don't expect him to play any games either. Though he will invite you on outings to learn more about you, when he is clear about his feelings, he will be clear with you as well. You will not be left second-guessing his intentions for long.
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Hannibal and Will have fashioned some sort of schedule when it comes to their new life, living nestled away in a little fishing town.
They’d entered this tucked-away safe haven, injured and bloody, clutching onto each other like lifelines. Hannibal was trying desperately to stave off the bleeding coming from Will’s tremble with nothing but a rolled-up shirt and spite that would make God himself tremble.
The locals had taken them in with the kindness of a grandmother, nursing them back to health with expertise in wound-tending and an overabundance of soup. Slowly, but surely, Hannibal and Will melted into the little town like they’d always lived there. They rented a small condo with money Hannibal had raked together by thinly-veiled manipulation and a saccharine smile and were now known as Joseph and Francis Du Pont.
After they healed and managed to get back on their feet, Hannibal returned to his roots as a surgeon and partnered with the village’s only doctor, working tirelessly. Which led to the comfortable evening schedule they’d fallen into.
Hannibal would finish his shift, taking a brisk walk home, stopping to buy fish someday or to grab new flowers for the dining room table. He’d unlock the door and slip inside—something Will called a basemeal simmering on the stove.
A meal that was both edible and enjoyable for Will but also allowed Hannibal the creative freedom to take the dish and elevate it however he saw fit. He’d spend the better half of twenty minutes fixing his plate. Today, Will made simple spaghetti.
Hannibal unbuttoned his dress shirt and hung it on the back of a chair as he plated his meal, humming along softly to the record Will had put on.
Hannibal enjoyed this part of the evening the most, when he would gather his finished plate in his hands and exit the house, heading for their backyard, where his love was sprawled out on a lawn chair. Looking like a painting, in one of Hannibal’s expensive button-up shirts and nothing else, he was drinking his nightly whiskey out of a champagne flute, a book open in his hands. The golden hour sun covered him in a way that looked godly. Something to be worshipped.
Hannibal walked forward silently, shifting his plate to one hand as he swept a hand through Will’s overgrown curls and planted a soft, lingering kiss on the man’s sweaty forehead.
"Hello, darlin',” Will said, a soft smile on his pink lips and one finger pressing between the pages of his book to keep his spot as he closed it.
“Hello, my William,” Hannibal replied, a giddy smile fighting its way to his lips.
The three new dogs, Lacy, Peanut, and Buster, bark and nip at the hem of his expensive trousers, which he refused to take off even in the heat of the Caribbean, but his focus was on the deity in front of him. William was at complete peace, the champagne flute resting against his lips as he smirked around the rim.
Hannibal set his plate down on the empty space on the lawn chair and handed Will one of the two forks he’d gotten, knowing the man had made the dinner but forgot to eat it. Hannibal pressed one more kiss to Will’s forehead before kneeling by the foot of the lawn chair.
“What are you reading today, Will?”
Will hummed, swallowing his bite of spaghetti. “Not quite sure... just started it,” he finally answered, gesturing to the pile of paperbacks at his side.
Hannibal began to rub Will’s sore feet with his expert hands, pressing his soft lips to the tan skin of Will’s shins, his thighs, and his ankles, “beautiful. Handsome. Exquisite.” He murmured into the warm skin.
Will doesn’t reply, but Hannibal can see the disbelief brimming in Will’s green eyes. Hannibal returned his distrusting gaze with a soft smile as he continued to rub his feet, pressing kisses on whatever warm skin Will granted him the privilege of touching.
“The man on the square,” Will said suddenly, but Hannibal understood him clearly.
Hannibal nodded. “Very good choice, dear William. An ill-mannered man who won’t be missed by anyone. A quick and easy kill.
Will made a small sound as he stretched, his muscles rippling, giving Hannibal the smallest tease of the white flesh of Will’s untanned upper thighs before they were covered by Hannibal’s shirt once again.
“Tomorrow, then. Evening, we’ll make it look like he died in his sleep. They’ll send you to review the body, and you can be very persuasive.”
Hannibal gave him such a soft look as he kissed his shins and thighs, sweaty and warm from the golden sunshine.
"Eat, William,” he said, handing Will a piece of garlic bread, pushing his hands away, and feeding it to him.
Will groaned softly, “Thank you.”
And Hannibal could read the words and the weight placed on that phrase, dissect the phrase, and watch the emotion gush out like blood, staining Will’s mouth crimson.
“I love you too.”
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i’m currently very high and very sleepy, but you gave me brainrot :((( anyway throws this at you and runs (and i’m aware the characterizations could be better but im tired and couldn’t find a fuck to give) ((also sorry for any grammatical errors and whatnot))
I can't believe you did it! Omg that's so nice ;_; IT'S TOO CUTE AND DELICIOUS
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