#if Hannibal didn't send the ear

[theranilord]

• Now I admit, I care... about Bella Crawford.

• Hannibal didn't do it?! Will DOES have an admirer? Ohh, this just got juicy!

• Fucking Hell... it's Freddie.

[logansdoe]

Hey! My first time sending a req thing so forgive me if I’ve done this wrong..

However, I’ve grown obsessed with your writing(no, seriously it’s so good omggg)and was wondering if you’d write overstimulated reader x Hannibal?

Hannibal is just so cruel and mean, pounding into you as you’re about to start sobbing..he’s got you in some sort of headlock, grunting in your ear..your begging him to slow down just for a minute and he’s just shushing you and speaking softly into your ear OH MY GOODDD LORDDD

Or he’s holding you close as you whine and shake, his forehead on yours as he tells you “so noisy- shh- my love” 😵‍💫😵‍💫

I’d love to see you write this!! No worries if not!! Love your writing ❤️

urges.

Hannibal had urges. Strong ones. Impulses, even. But that didn't mean he couldn't control them. He always did. For the sake of you.

You were too sweet. Too delicate for his hungry soul. But also too lovely to resist. Your taste, feel, sounds were all he could want, need. It was a craving. Much worse if he went into specifications.

So, it was a surprise when you told him you could feel he was holding back. You were satisfied, of course you were. He made you satisfied. But you could see beneath the mask. Something he often forgets.

He knew you weren't prepared for his urges. But how could he refuse you, his delicate dove, who was agreeing to give into his indulgence?

Perhaps, it was too soon that you asked for it. Because you certainly could not keep up with it.

His hand held onto your shoulder. The other held your hips. the skin denting from applied pressure from his fingers. Already red, perhaps black and blue the next morning.

The sound of skin against skin echoed the walls. Your body jerking forward with every slap of his hips against yours. The room also filled with your cries.

Hands pushing on his thighs, pushing him away. This annoyed Hannibal. His hands left your shoulders and cupped your jaw. Pulling you up, to his chest. Your head against his shoulder as he looked.

He could cum just at the sight of you. Tears running down. Lips bruised from the pressured kisses. Some markings already created from where he nipped before. Mine.

"shh— don't resist, love", he whispered against your ear. His words breathy and airy. You could feel the strained breaths against your now sensitive skin. A shiver running down her whole body. The sheen layer of sweat doing nothing to subside it.

"you wanted this, Didn't you?", he continued. His hips still moving. You could feel the tip dragging across your already bruised inner walls. Your whines get louder.

God, he would have enjoyed those little whimpers from you, any other time. But now, he needed to focus in the feel of you.

His hand slipped from your jaw to over your mouth. Trapping the noises against the barrier of his palm. "You look so beautiful, darling. So. . Pretty", he whispered against your neck.

Pressing kisses until he reached your ear again. "All mine to play with, right? All mine" he groaned. His hand splayed across your stomach as the rock of his hips got harder but slower.

Making you scream into his hand everytime he pushed into you after pulling all the way out. Hannibal leaned back slightly to look down, seeing his cock slip in and out so slowly. Like a sensual dance. Glistening against the low light like the pearls under the night sky.

He wanted to consume you. Ingest you so you'd be a part of him forever. Live in his skin, flesh, mind, heart. Wherever you could reach, he would be yours.

The thoughts ran across his mind. He could feel your tears against his hand. Oh, how he loved to see you broken down. Perhaps, he could never go back from this now.

He needed you like this. So pilant. Like a soft pillow against his sharpened edges. Taking him in with warmth.

Hannibal could feel himself near. His forehead resting against your shoulder. He could feel you trembling. His lips parted as he let out a sharp breath before painting your inner walls with his seed.

His hand slowly released around your mouth as it rested against your neck. He placed soft kisses on your jaw, "so good for me, dove."

He slowly pulled out as he carefully, with gentle caress laid you down against the sheets. Small whimpers left you. He laid besides you. His forehead against yours as he took another breath to calm himself.

"shh, I'm right here. It's alright. . . Always such a good girl for me" he whispered softly. His lips continued to place soft kisses against your cheek and forehead.

He pulled back as he looked at you. Eyes unfocused, lips parted, sweat looking like silver under the moonlight. His hand carefully brushed some of the damp hair away from your face. He got a taste of his urges and now he can't wait to indulge more.

a/n: I love requests. Keep them coming.

also thank you for liking my writings. I just write to distract or to feel productive. 😭‼️

[charliedawn]

Hello my lovely ☺️ I was maybe wondering if you did a Hannibal family trope where the reader is on the phone because they said to call them to make sure they where getting home safe and as they where walking a stranger came up to them and the reader dead ass barks,no hesitation just pure girl power in the way they no longer give a shit about who is coming up to them :)

Late evening. You promised the Hannibal family you'd call when walking home. Naturally, the whole clan insisted, "Call us. No exceptions." So you're walking down a quiet street, phone to your ear, casually chatting with one of them-let's say Peter picked up first.

You: "Yeah, I'm just passing the corner by the bakery now-should be home in like ten minutes, max."

Peter (over the phone, concerned): "Okay, but are there street lights? Is anyone around? What if a guy jumps out from a bush or—"

Before he can finish, some random stranger starts approaching you a little too confidently.

He's got that "Hey, lemme talk to you for a sec" energy. No context, no manners. Just there. Without even looking up or hesitating, still on the phone, you drop your voice and bark.

"WOOF."

The guy flinches like you just pulled a knife.

Instantly crosses the street without a word.

Peter (stunned): "Did—did you just BARK at someone?"

You (calmly): "Yup. Worked, didn't it?"

Peter: "You're insane. I love it. I'm telling everyone. Hold on—"

Now the phone's on speaker. Cue the rest of the Hannibal clan chiming in.

Kevin (laughing his ass off): "No way you just did that !"

Morgan (deadpan, impressed): "...Remind me to never approach you unannounced."

Hannibal Jr. (chuckling): "Efficient."

Hannibal Sr. (absolutely delighted): "Little lamb, next time send us his address. We'll bark back—less metaphorically. Or even bite."

They're all somewhere between horrified, amused, and so proud they could cry (Peter mostly). Peter's still clutching his heart, Kevin is reenacting your bark for the rest of the room, and Hannibal Sr. is plotting to get that sound framed somehow.

You? You're just walking home like nothing happened, one hand in your pocket, other holding the phone, no longer giving a single damn.

You've got a whole family of cannibals on your side and bark privileges. What's a random creep gonna do?

[whimsyfaes]

When I saw you had requests open, I just had to JUMP on the opportunity! I have two ideas, but I'll leave them separately.

Hannibal x (preferably female) reader who also happens to be a serial killer. However, think more Joe Goldberg combined with Amy Dunne vibes. She's got a bad past, but when she moved to Baltimore under a new identity as a lawyer (I just like the irony but she could do any job you feel like) she's very determined to leave that life behind her. To be better.

Hannibal just knows she's not as honest as she portrays herself to be. He's a psychiatrist, after all, and goes digging to figure out what she's hiding. I feel like that type of plot can go two ways, rivals, constantly suspicious of each other, trying to cover up their own tracks before the other catches them (She's 100% slightly scared of him once she figures out he's also a wolf in sheep's clothing, with no intention reform like her) or an unlikely partnership (if Hannibal is persuasive enough), or both!

Agh, ik, it's so plot heavy, but I need to get it out somewhere.

Thank youu

~◇~

// I am so sorry this took so long, I hope you enjoy!! I love how this was already planned for me. ❤️

Imposter

pairing: hannibal x f!reader

warnings: mention of gore, slight mention of non-con, hannibal being a flirtatious psychopath, cat & mouse, mind manipulation

The life you had before was all in the past now, a reminder of what you had almost become yet it still lingered in the back of your mind with its sharp claws. Tap, tap, tap against the hollowness of your skull as if taunting you to return to that depraved place.

Remember what you did ? Those screams of torment as you etched away the victim's last piece of sanity.

You didn't have a knife at the time, only a shard of glass from the bathroom's mirror. & all that blood - oh, how beautiful it painted on alabaster tile flooring, as if you were a painter with a canvas. The smell of copper always tickled your nostrils in the best way, more of the smell emitting with each precise cut you inflicted upon the poor person's body.

The sharp banging of the judge's gavel brought yourself back into the present, sweat slightly beading on your forehead. How long has it been since you had those vivid thoughts? It seemed like a century ago, but in reality it had only been a couple of years. You were determined to start over, start a brand new life with a brand new career. A lawyer, of all jobs. How typical. You wanted to bring justice back into your life, to mask your true intentions in hopes of it completely going away someday.

But perhaps the past wasn't shrouded in darkness.

There was a slip-up of course, not too long after you had your little incident in the court room. A man of foul intentions had followed you home one night after a long day at the office, cat-calling you with each drunken stumble he took in your direction. You tried to ignore him, body tense with each stride of your clicking heels against wet pavement. Perhaps going down one of the alleyways wasn't the best idea, but you had thought you had lost him by the time you took that sharp turn.

Of course such plans did not go accordingly, & the drunkard had found you like a cat waiting to feast upon the frightened mouse. He had found a way to wrap his arms around your trembling frame, a hand lifting to cover your mouth as you attempted to yell your strangled pleas. It was enough to send you over the edge, that little girl who so desperately wanted to change her life now taking a back seat as you began to feel that urge running through your veins.

Your hand dove into your coat's pocket to retrieve a metal pen, fingers wrapping roughly around its base before plunging the device into the poor man's eye socket. A small sigh in content escaped your lips against his sweaty palm when you heard his horrid cry of pain, that sweet sweet sound you had almost forgotten about. Now, it rang through your ears beautifully, his body then slumping to the ground while he held his eye with hitching sobs.

"Please - ....I-I'm sorry... I'm..."

That was all you needed as you then plunged the pen into his skull once more, then another.....and another....until that drunk face was unrecognizable. Until that damn bastard was a pile of filthy flesh upon cold stone. & that smell of copper, it made your skin crawl with delight as you sighed in content.

But it was then as if reality hit you, your body trembling as you gazed downward with rapid gasps of adrenaline. No, no, no...You were good, you were normal again.

You had to see him.

-------------------------

Blunt nails tapped against that familiar leather chair with nervousness, your teeth grazing upon your bottom lip as you gazed around Dr. Lecter's extravagant office. He took notice of your hesitance, fingers ceasing to write down his notes while gazing upward with curiosity.

"Something is on your mind..."

A matter of fact statement, your eyes meeting golden hues that you could've sworn began to swirl into a darker shade.

"Work was just -....a lot today."

You hoped your little lie would go unnoticed, however you failed to cover the small patch of blood on the outside of your palm. Hannibal took note of this, licking his lips subtly before continuing.

"It is not work that is on your mind, is it? Something else seems to have your mind hostage."

A gulp formed in your tightening throat, your chapped lips forming into a shaky smile. It wasn't very convincing, & you knew of this. But, how could you inform him of your encounter earlier this evening? You had some suspicions of him, some little doubts that pecked in the corners of your mind from time to time. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, however you could feel that there was something off about your therapist.

Something...more omnious.

"I can assure you, Dr. Lecter, that it was just work today. Nothing more."

His lean frame lifted from his chair with an elegant stride, moving towards his art ridden desk while gliding his fingertips along his drawings.

"That is not what I suspect, judging upon the blood that lingers on your hand."

Shit -... you had forgotten about that little detail, your jaw clenching tightly from his observation. His eyes trail upward with a raise of his brows, those pursed lips forming into a small smile.

A smile? Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest, as if it were about to combust and fly out the window like a caged bird. You couldn't move, a deer frozen in fear as he began to walk towards you with a predatory aura.

"You do not need to hide from me, you do not need to HIDE what you truly desire."

He stops to stand before you on the chair, his body moving to kneel in front of you as if you were a rabbit that was easily startled. A thumb moves to glide gently upon your cheek, resting just below your bottom lip as he stares with interest.

"Have you killed before?"

That word made you gasp in response, fingers clutching the chair's arms with white knuckles. He has FOUND you, he can see you past that broken mask. A single tear runs down your cheek in defeat, a small nod forming while you whisper softly.

".....Yes.."

A satisfied hum sounds from him, a deep tone that makes your skin crawl. He brushes away that fallen tear, not wishing for it to drop upon the floor and go to waste. That hand moves to cup along your jaw in an almost lovingly manner, those haunting eyes finally meeting your teary ones.

"I can help you, little mouse. I can help you overcome your fears. Those voices in your head. If only you would allow me.."

Finally, someone can see the torment you have been dealing with for the past couple of years. Someone who UNDERSTOOD you. A broken sob sounds from you, a quivering hand reaching upward to grasp his wrist tightly, as if he were to disappear like an apparition.

"Please...Please Dr. Lecter..."

He had caught you, those claws sinking into your mind as his smile widened to show pearl teeth.

"You are not alone anymore....not without me."

[operafantomet]

Have you seen a photograph of opera singer Lucrezia Bori wearing a very similar tiara like one of Hannibal ballerinas in Maria's costume sketches. It can be found quite easily on google images if google her name but it's not the first photo that comes up, it's 22nd photo if I calculated correctly. I would link it but I can't.

Oh wow, it looks like you definitely found one of the costume design inspirations there! Dead ringer for Christine in Hannibal:

A design which was well reflected in Sarah Brightman's original Broadway costume - but I assume the dangling ear pieces drove her and/or the other ballerinas mad because they didn't survive long...

I love Maria Bjørnson's use of photos of historical opera singers. Not only because of the vibe it creates, but also because it's fun to see what surfaces now and then of definite inspirations.

Thank you for sending this my way!

[voxmortuus]

Hi! How are you? So (Please don't judge me or kill me) I have this request about Hannibal x Fem! College! Reader (Age Gap) . Só Hannibal wants a baby but Reader wants to focus on her education. One day reader thinks that Hannibal is make a sex game but then ended in a non-con situation and in a forced pregnancy, what do you think? Please do not judge or kill me it's just a fantasy

PAIRING: Hannibal x Fem! College! Reader (Age Gap) (First Person POV)

UNIVERSE: Hannibal

WORDS: 766

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above

Trigger Warning(s): Non-Con & Forced Breeding Implied and lightly described) | Blindfolding | Handcuffing | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT ROMANTICISE OR GLAMORIZE SERIAL KILLERS OR RAPE! I do not condone these actions, nor do I support them! This was written upon request. Do NOT send me hate mail, you will be blocked, do not post on this with any sort of negativity you will be blocked. If you don’t like it don’t read it it’s that simple!!! If you ever encounter this in real life please contact the Sexual Assult Telephone Hotline. Please understand this is a fanfiction, think of it like Hollywood. Also, I’m sorry if this is horrible…..

NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, I'm hoping this finds you well love! PLEASE!! If you ever need someone to talk to about this I extend my inbox to you!

IMAGE CREDIT: Divider by @firefly-graphics | Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist | Taglist

All of this was such a heavy price to pay, between tuition fees, and book costs, lab fees, I just wanted to focus on school, I just wanted to focus on my classes and graduate and get a good job! But that didn't seem to be what he wanted, he wanted more. He wanted a family. As much as I would love to give it to him, I just couldn't. I needed to focus and it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Coming home one night he approached me and looked me over, tucking some hair behind my ear. He gave me that charming smile, looked me in the eyes, cupped my face in his hands, and sighed softly.

"So, I've been thinking, maybe we could have dinner then we can try something new in the bedroom."

"New? What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking that maybe we could try some sensory things."

Looking at him, I let out a slight breath and nodded. Trusting him, I feel that nothing could really go wrong. Little did I know what he was actually planning on doing.

Dinner was fantastic, as usual, and there was no questioning to the amount of wine I had downed, but I didn't have class in the morning, so a little extra wasn't going to hurt.

When he took me to the bedroom it was all done up nicely. A special blindfold, and is that handcuffs? I tilt my head and let out a soft breath. Wined and dined, I feel him grab for my hand and pull me close. Pressing my back against him I rest my head against his shoulder and let out a soft breath.

Feeling his hands wrap around my waist and slowly move up to grip my breasts. I let out a soft moan and my eyes close. Feeling comfortable, feeling like I could take on the world at that moment. I lick my lips and feel his lips move to my beck. My hands draped at my sides as his hands moved under my shirt to remove my shirt, exposing my flesh to the frost-kissed windows.

Letting out another soft whimper I feel his hands moving down my body, looping his fingers in my yoga pants he strips them from me. Looking at me he drinks me in.

Leading me to the bed, I don't question. After all, he told me just what he wanted, and I was willing to oblige. Lying down on the fluffy, warm, welcoming bed. I feel my hands being cuffed to the headboard, and the blindfold being placed over my eyes. Biting my lip I anticipate everything coming my way.

Letting out a shaky breath I bite my lip and listen very carefully. I listen for what he could be doing. I hear the bed move, and fabric moving, his shirt being draped over the chair before he climbed into the bed. Biting my lip I feel his hips against mine. Returning the kiss it isn't long before his lips are moving down my body. As his lips capture a nipple I arch slightly into him and let out a soft whimper. Feeling myself growing wet between the hips I press them upward. Feeling the movement he unzips his pants and before I know it, he's shoving his bare cock into me. At first, I let out a soft whine, but then I grow to panic.

"Hannibal... stop, no. What are you doing?"

He doesn't say anything, he just picks up his thrusts. I start to kick, but I can't grip him, or let alone really fight back because he has me handcuffed.

"I said stop! STOP HANNIBAL! NO!"

But he ignored me. He didn't even bother listening. As he kept thrusting. I kept trying to twist my body but he had a strong grip on me. His thrusts became more painful, more demanding. He was going to get exactly what he wanted to get, and he was only hurting our relationship in the process.

"It's a game love, shhh..."

I knew better, I fuckin knew better!

Sitting there in the doctor's office, I look over at the ultrasound and let out a slow breath, shaking my head. I demanded to know, so the doctor did an ultrasound. Rubbing my face and cleaning the jelly off my lower stomach I close my eyes and shake my head.

After a few moments of talking to the doctor, I am sitting in my car, sniffling and wiping my nose. Picking up the phone I dial his number.

"Hello?"

"Hannibal... we need to talk."

[notyourhetloki]

oi eu quero uma fanfic hannigram que o hannibal é médico/enfermeiro e o will adora doar sangue por causa da onda que dá

(Translation: hi I want a hannigram fanfic where Hannibal is a doctor/nurse and Will loves donating blood because he gets high on it.)

/NSFW Nurse!Hannibal x Will Graham/

A/N: YES I LOVE THEM thank you for requesting, friend!! This Imagine is WILD I love it

Warnings: blood, needles, sexual themes, nothing makes actual sense but this is fiction so it doesn't matter lol

—

"Mr. Graham, follow me, please." A blonde, tall nurse met him at the door of the blood center. His voice was heavy with an accent he couldn't quite decipher.

Will followed along, and sat on the armchair the nurse pointed him to.

"My name is Hannibal, I'll be collecting your blood today. Have you ever done this before?"

"Nice to meet you, Hannibal. And yes, I've done this plenty of times." He caught the nurse's eyes for a glimpse of a second, and for a moment, eye contact didn't feel quite that bad.

"What an honorable act, Mr. Graham. I'm glad you decided to come back."

Will shivered at the words, deciding to try and look at Hannibal again as he spoke. "Thank you, I'm glad I can help people."

But Hannibal saw it in Will's eyes... he was lying. Interesting, he thought.

"Are you ready?" The nurse lowered himself inches from Will's face, and surprisingly, this level of sudden intimacy didn't bother him.

"Yes..." The room was empty despite them, but Will felt the need to whisper. Holding eye contact with anyone would feel like hell but there he was, looking at the maroon eyes of his intimidating nurse.

As Hannibal pushed the needle inside his arm, Will's eyes went dark, pupils dilating like he was on drugs. The nurse, of course, noticed immediately, and couldn't stop the smile forming on his face.

"You must really enjoy helping people." The older man taunted, now holding Will's arm in place.

"W-What do you mean?" Shit, has he finally been caught? Is this nurse going to call him a fraud? Or even stop him from coming back?

"Wide pupils, shivers, cold sweat. It's almost like you're high, Mr. Graham."

As the blood started to leave his body, Will felt his well-known light-headedness coming in. At this point, the nurses would leave him alone, but not Hannibal. He stayed there, watching every reaction coming from Will.

Graham couldn't help what happened next, he felt Hannibal's eyes on him as he rolled his head back, closed his eyes and moaned softly. Riding on the wave of pleasure that took over his body.

"Beautiful." Hannibal whispered, his low voice close to his ear, sending butterflies to his stomach.

Will turned his face to look at his nurse, then. Vision blurry and body trembling, he looked at Hannibal and saw his eyes flicking between his own and... his crotch.

Damn, Will had a boner... a huge one. He got high on taking blood sure but that never happened to him before. Maybe he liked being watched...

"Does that usually happen, Mr. Graham?" Hannibal's voice was low and monotone, firm and soft. Will could listen to that voice for hours.

"N-No... I'm... sorry?" But he couldn't bring himself to feel any shame.

"Are you? You don't seem to be sorry at all." Hannibal's eyes fixated on Will's crotch now, admiring the shape it formed under his pants.

"Fuck..." Will's eyes closed for a moment, he just felt so good it was actually becoming too much now. Head airy and dick throbbing, he had never experienced such a high before.

"So that is the reason you come here every two months, is that right, Will? I've been watching you, and you managed to fool us all... clever boy."

Will couldn't stop and he was palming his dick before he realized, massaging his member through the fabric of his pants.

"Such a beauty, you are. So cunning and sly, but you don't need to fool me anymore... I'll keep your secret, I promise." Hannibal continued, smiling while looking Will in the eyes.

Will came in his pants with a groan, eyes shut and mouth slightly open. His head was spinning, his whole body warm and tingling with pleasure. "Hannibal..."

"I'm right here, Will." The nurse caressed his forehead, arranging some of his stray curls. And so they stayed there, breathing and looking at each other as Will rode his high until the very end.

Time went on and Hannibal finally broke eye contact, looking at the bag of blood beside the armchair and then taking the needle off Will's arm, replacing it with a cotton ball. "I think you're all done here, Mr. Graham."

Will took a few breaths before awkwardly and slowly standing up, then. Still light-headed, he stood still for a few moments before speaking lowly. "Hm, thank you... for that, Hannibal. I'm... yeah."

"No need to thank me, Mr. Graham. See you in two months?" The blonde nurse said calmly, almost too calmly and collected for what had happened.

Will sighed and rejoiced at the thought of coming back again. "Yeah... see you in two months."

—

[lady-o-ren]

My Dearest Disaster

//Jamie Fraser finally meets the girl of his dreams . . . too bad anytime he gets near her disaster strikes and he ends up in the hospital.//

Chapter One //

Chapter Two

Chapter Two ao3 link ( HERE )

Outside Kiko's Cafe, where the air is warm and sweetened with baked delights, Ian Murray sits beside his lovely wife. She's small as a dove yet fierce as a jackal with a heart so big she feels the need to hide it in a snarl.

He's loved her nearly all his life.

"Ye’re just gonna piss him off, Jen," warns Ian, watching his wife text her brother for the fifth time, and takes a sip of his coffee. A pecan roast that makes him want to smack his lips.

“Good. Because if it weren't for that brother of mine being late I wouldn'a have eaten all this,” she scowls, and gestures at the plates stacked atop their table, having gone a bit mad sampling every gooey rich delight that caught her eye. There's even a dab of raspberry curd on the corner of her lips.

Ian smiles and thumbs it away, enjoying the embarrassment coloring Jenny's face.

“Ye ate twice that much when ye woke, mo ghràdh. Enough to put a hog to shame."

Jenny cuts him a murderous look that could bleed the devil but it only makes Ian's smile widen. He wraps an arm around her slight shoulders and leans in close (mindful of her sharp gleaming teeth taking aim for his throat) to brush his mouth against the smooth white shell of her ear and whispers for only her to hear.

“And I need not remind ye what I had either. Ye were wanting seconds if I recall, screamed it loud enough for the whole damn building to hear.”

Before Jenny can sink her teeth to her husband's smug mouth, Jamie comes and plops down in the chair across from them. His eyes are tired and puffy as cotton balls but it's his nose that draws the two Murray's attention, bandaged and anchored by a most unflattering face guard.

"Broke it." The grump says before they can ask. "Guess how.”

Neither of them care. They're both bubbling over with laughter.

"What the hell is on yer face?!"

"Ye look like Hannibal! Fecking Hannibal!"

Jamie rips the guard off, flushed dark as the raspberry curd.

But it's too late. His sister has already taken a picture and is texting away.

“Ye didn't, Jenny?"

“Aye, I did,” she wickedly grins, angling her hand out of her brother's reach. “Sent it to mam too.”

And Ding Ding her phone goes off.

“Christ! What does she have to say?”

“It's Murtagh,” she replies, staring gleefully at the text on the screen.

Jamie drops his head, hands raking through his curls.

“Shite! Now I'll never hear the end of it,” he groans miserably. “Why did ye have to send it to him?”

“I didn't ye big baby, just mam. They've been spending time together over at Lallybroch so he's probably sitting there beside her just now.”

Jamie lifts his head looking puzzled.

“Why’s he wi’ mam?” He asks with the innocence of a child.

Ian shakes his head.

“Don't tell him, Jen.”

“What?” Jamie's eyes dash back and forth between them. “Is mam sick?”

Jenny sighs and Ian chuckles into her velvety hair.

“No.” She shakes her head, looking fondly at her brother. “ She's just as clueless as you. So what happened to ye? That girl again?”

Jamie huffs. Thoughts of his godfather spending time with his mother forgotten.

“She's more than that. I haven’t figured out what but I ken she's cursed. Because this -” He points to his nose. “Isn’t normal. I dinna ken how much more I can take. What more can be done to me short of death.”

Though she thinks her brother is being a bit dramatic, Jenny crooks her finger, calling Jamie to her like a mistreated pup and carefully takes his chin in her hand.

“Was it just the nose, bràthair?” She asks, sounding a great deal more sympathetic.

“Aye, phiuthar,” he answers back, and she lets him go with a sweet caress of his cheek followed by a wee playful smack that makes him smile crookedly.

“And a lucky thing too. See, it was the middle of the night and I heard this pounding. . .”

After Jamie finishes telling his tale of woe, he slumps down into his chair, exhausted from having to live through it all again.

“Ye do have the worst luck wi’ women, Jamie. I always wondered why. ” Jenny leans forward with her chin in hand, frowning at him.

“At least she's nothing like Laoghaire Mackenzie.” Ian points out.

Jamie shivers, feeling an eerie chill crawl up his spine.

Laoghaire Mackenzie was a girl he spoke to once in passing in the schoolyard as a lad and she had latched onto him like a leech up until . . .

“Is she still in Wentworth Asylum?”

“Of course she is,” says Jenny. “She danced naked at auld Craigh na Dun begging the devil to have ye fall in love wi’ her. Even sacrificed a fecking squirrel on an altar to seal the deal.”

“I heard it was a toad," says Jamie. "Puir wee shite.”

Jenny continues. “Remember when mam caught her sprinkling horse shite at our front door? I still haven't figured out why.”

“Are ye sure it was horse shite?” Ian grins, and Jenny rolls her eyes.

“It was horse shite," Jamie mutters. "I would know. I stepped in it.”

He then points a finger at his sister, glaring at her.

” And ye laughed at me, Jenny. Even when I told ye she'd been stalking me ye cackled yer wee arse off and said to either sleep wi’ our grandda’s dirk under my pillow or change my name and head to France.”

Jenny slaps her brother's finger making him yelp.

“Weel, how was I to ken the wee loony would be summoning the devil a week later.”

“The wee toad sure didn't.”

Both brother and sister groan at Ian's joke but it's enough to dispel the tension.

“So what did ye two want to talk to me about anyway? Going off again?”

The Murray's had been traveling to every port they could manage since the moment they married almost a year ago and had only been back in Scotland a few months since.

Jenny takes a deep breath and locks lovesick eyes with Ian, grabbing his hand. Wedding bands shining.

“No, not for a good while, no.”

Jamie brightens. Though his sister could be a thorn in his arse he'd missed her and Ian terribly.

“See the thing is -”

“Ye’re the first person we wanted to tell -”

Both Murray's exchange an excited glance with each other before Jenny knocks her brother's heart from his chest in one gesture of her hand that flutters to her belly.

Jamie's throat bobs.

“Ye’re going to be a mam, Jenny?”

She nods excitedly, grinning madly with joy. “Aye, and we wanted to name the wee one after ye, dear bhràthair. No matter if it's a girl or boy, if ye dinna mind.”

Jamie's eyes gloss over feeling his chest swell. He has to blink to keep them from stinging.

“Christ! I'd be honored! But why me?”

Jenny reaches across the table and takes her brother's big hand in both her own.

“Believe it or not, Jamie, I love ye something awful. We both do."

Then, because she's an older sister, Jenny can't help but add -

"And ye'll be needing a namesake if that lass of yers kills ye before ye can sire one yerself and -"

She squeals when Jamie squeezes her hands and leans over the table, expecting the absolute worst. But he only kisses her softly on her forehead, careful with his injured nose.

"I love ye something awful too, Jenny.”

//

A/N: The chapters for this fic are written and finished. I tried writing it like chapter one, real quick and fast and short and dumb, so hopefully it all works and nothing reads too ooc.

*Kiko's Cafe is named after my cat and also a little nod to Kiki's Delivery Service.

[stronglyobsessed]

Murder family is happy and alive settled somewhere and also maybe Abigail has a gf?

Hello, anon! So sorry for the wait! My muse has been volleying back and forth between Hannibal and Kingsman, and also being mute (damn muse). But I was feeling creative, the words eluding me in any particular WIP I have going on, so a cute short one-shot here on Tumblr!

I hope this was what you were looking for, and that you see this!

Stay well!

---

"Do you hear that?" Will asks as he walks in with two cups of tea, one in each hand, and hands one to Hannibal.

Hannibal cocks his head, turning up an ear to listen to whatever Will beckons his attention towards. "I do not," he admits after a moment.

Just as Will goes to make himself comfortable on the chaise lounge in Hannibal's office, he can hear the distinct rumble and laughter from two young girls. Well...if you consider 21 a GIRL, but still young enough Will can continue getting away with calling Abigail a girl; she was their daughter, adoptive, after all.

Hannibal's lips draw up into a lopsided grin as he savors the first sip of tea. Will wonders if it's his husband's enjoyment of the hot beverage, or perhaps he HAS heard Abigail. Who was just a floor above them, in their newly purchased Bungalow just off shore a body of water in New Zealand. The home was a prime location for Will's hobbies, and remote enough for Hannibal's as well.

Will was able to fish, Hannibal was able to kill. They also have the added bonus of Abigail finding a hobby painting New Zealand sunsets while sailing the waters with Will, as well as meeting a local girl.

"Em!" They hear Abigail gush before another round of tumbling is heard, coupling with a soft murmur or two.

Will isn't entirely sure he wants to know what ALL the noise is about, but he has half a mind anyway.

"She sounds well occupied," Hannibal remarks as he goes back to sketching. "I didn't think much would come of this girl." He refers to Emily. A young woman around Abigail's age. She works at a local fishing shop, where Will finds some supplies, helps manage it with her father and mother. Hannibal cocks his head again. That same smile returning when they hear Abigail and Emily settling in for a movie. "I suppose everyone deserves to be happy. Wouldn't you agree, Will?"

Hannibal's earlier elation for Abigail's blossoming relationship is now focused on Will, his smile is smaller though, yet never lacking the warmth and love Will can see through rich brown eyes. They are the very one's he's dreamt of for years, both haunting and yearning dreams that send a shiver up his spine. Will returns the emotion with a bigger, fuller grin that is no mistake of his love and devotion toward the cannibal before him.

"I would agree. Yes, Doctor Lecter." Hannibal merely raises a brow as Will stands, walking across the small space and settling himself comfortably in Hannibal's lap. It's an old game, really, referring to Hannibal as Doctor. One that Will often enjoys having his ass plowed afterwards. It's all win win, really, and it doesn't stop Hannibal from accepting the warm, delicate press of Will's lips to his.

Or the activities that follow, either.

Because despite what they left behind in Maryland, they're the happiest they ever dreamed to be.

[bi-bard]

Wherever you stray, I follow - Will Graham Imagine (Hannibal)

Title: Wherever you stray, I follow

Pairing: Will Graham X Reader

Song Drawn: willow

Word Count: 822 words

Warning(s): Mentions of killing, potential break-up

Summary: (Y/n) feels unsafe staying in the same town as... well... Hannibal and is ready to leave. The question now is if Will is going to follow.

Author's Note: I love Will Graham and I just want him to have a healthy, non-killing relationship.

-------------------------------------

I sighed as I stopped my car. I got out and grabbed the cardboard boxes I had gotten and had stored in the back of my car. I was just opening my door when I saw Will's car pulling into my driveway.

I continued inside. Will knew that he was welcome in at any time as long as I knew he was going to be there.

"Hi Will," I said as I heard him closing the door. I was taking off my jacket. I turned to him. He was looking at the boxes.

"When are you moving," he asked.

"As soon as possible," I mumbled. "I was about to call you."

"Why?"

"I want you to go with me," I replied. "I just... I don't feel safe here."

"If it's the killers then you should know they're everywhere," Will countered.

"At least then one of them isn't on speed dial," I crossed my arms over my chest.

Hannibal was a normal part of our lives. He was Will's therapist... and the man I caught in the middle of my living room in the middle of the night... twice.

Will looked at the ground. He knew I was right.

"I can't stay here anymore, Will," I felt myself shaking slightly. "He's just... he's too close."

"You can move in with me."

"No, I can't and you know that," I snapped. I softened instantly. I walked closer to him, slowly as to not overwhelm him. "Will, I love you. I want you to come with me because I love you. You've stolen my heart and my attention. I tried bending to the conditions here but... I didn't sign up for Hannibal. I can't handle the fear that I'm going to just find him here potentially ready to kill me."

Silence.

"Please, Will, come with me," I begged.

Will looked away from me again, "I-I can't."

I sighed, trying to blink away my tears, "Then I guess this goodbye."

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. He hugged me back.

I wanted so desperately for him to follow me. But I see now that he never truly let me in. He told bits and pieces. I saw him with a rose-gold tint to my perspective. And I think I still do... just not all of him.

"Goodbye, Will Graham," I mumbled into his ear, kissing his cheek as he pulled away.

He didn't speak as he walked out. I felt thrown. I was ready to follow him anywhere. To hold onto him wherever and whatever happened. Now, I had to step out on him and hope he was going to be okay.

--Time Skip--

I pushed the last box into my car and let out a deep breath. I wasn't taking much. The furniture was staying here so Alana could sell it for me and send me the money for it. I took my clothes and my personal things. Souveniers, photos, anything that made my heart skip a beat or just beat faster in general.

Thank god my parents had advised me to get a bigger car.

I was closing my car door when Will's car pull into the driveway. He seemed relieved that I was still here.

"Will, what are doing here," I asked as he walked over.

"You were right," he replied. "Hannibal has invaded both of our lives. I need to keep you safe from him and if that means running away with you, then that's what I'll do."

"Will," I sighed.

He grabbed my hand. He wasn't one for physical touch all the time so it was shocking and nice to hold his hand.

"Let's just go," he grinned. He seemed to really want to do this. "I packed my important stuff. I thought I owned a lot more than I did. Jack and Alana are helping me find places for the dogs, except for Winston... he's coming with me. He's in the car."

"You... You really want to do this," I asked. He nodded. I finally smiled back at him.

I nodded, "Okay, okay. Get Winston and your stuff. I should have enough room in my car. Unless you wanna bring yours."

"No, he knows my car," Will shook his head. I nodded. This was it. A real escape.

Will leaned over and kissed me softly. Holding hands felt foreign, kissing felt like something from another planet. I cupped the side of his face and grinned into the kiss.

"I'll be right back," he promised quietly, walking back to his car. I waited for him to load up all of his stuff before I jumped in my driver's seat. He got in the passenger's seat. "This is gonna be good."

I nodded, "Yeah."

This was it. The escape plan. This is us following each other.

"Thank you," I said as I started the car.

"Thank you," he replied.

And for a moment, I felt like we had won.

-------------------------------------

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[angelic-serenade]

Alastor + disaster cook! S/O

headcanons

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

you could not cook to save your life

any attempt at cooking would result in certain failure in the best case scenario and 5.4 magnitude earthquake damage in the worst

sure, you could make edible pasta and if you really put your best efforts into it, acceptable omelette too

but anything past that level of complexity was simply out of your league, a lost cause to put it mildly

don't you even think about making a cake, that shit's dangerous

as they say: as above so below

when you landed in Hell and found yourself joining the Happy Hotel soon after, you came to find out your culinary skills had not magically improved

which is quite ironic since Charlie had made you head chef of the hotel

the string of curses which had left your lips upon hearing the news had been legendary, even for Hell

you adored the demon princess with your whole heart (or whatever was left of it anyway), bUT REALLY CHARLIE? YOU DO NOT GIVE A GUN TO A CHILD AND EXPECT CASUALTIES NOT TO HAPPEN

at this point you were certain she was subconsciously auto-sabotaging

either way, you didn't have the heart to tell her no, so you decided to put your heart and soul into trying to learn how to properly cook, which didn't turn out to be the ideal choice of words since you were in Hell and your soul was probably rotten to the core

at least, nobody could say you hadn't tried your damn best

and hey! some days your cooking hadn't even been completely sickening

you decided to stick to easy, “safe” dishes though, you know, just to be sure

so pasta and eggs were definitely a thing

a constant and repetitive thing to be precise

you were trying your best, okay? nobody in your place with your limited set of skills would have taken the job, but you did and you deserved recognition for that feat alone

or a fucking donkey hat for your skyrocketing dumbness levels

things were not so bad at first

both Charlie and Vaggie were very supportive, each one of them in their own way - even though you had totally seen Charlie trying to swallow pure unadulterated fear that one time you had announced you wanted to try to cook something more elaborate

Angel Dust on the other hand... hadn't been as considerate as to lie to your face about what he thought of your cooking

"fuck me doll, this shit's disgusting"

*insert the I don't have friends they disappoint me vine here*

Vaggie had proceeded to give Angel quite the earful while Charlie tried her best to cheer you up

you went full hermit mode on them for two days after that

you were proud of yourself, handling criticism so well

anyway, the cycle kept repeating, with the only difference that most days Angel would grab something to eat outside of the hotel and join you during meals only to blankly stare at the plates and silvery

Charlie had tried to shield you from the truth, but you weren't that stupid

you respected Angel's choice, really, you did, and you had decided to be the bigger person among the two

that's why you began to put a lil bit of laxative into his portions whenever he decided to grace your efforts and actually eat your "disgusting cooking"

y’know just to spicy things up a little

at least now he had a valid reason to complain

with the whole fiasco on live TV and the sudden and suspicious appearence of the one and only Radio Demon at your doorstep, however, things started going haywire

Alastor's presence was eeirly demanding and unsettlingly charmimg at the same time

so it was only natural for you to gravitate the fuck away from him whenever you could

you always acted politely, greeting him whenever you bumped into him through the corridors of the hotel, but you only went as far as to appear courteous because you didn't want for him to go Hannibal Lecter on you. thanks, no thanks

“and what can you do my feminine fellow?”

“I can suck your dick!”

you had snorted a bit at that which immediately shifted the strawberry pimp's attention to yourself

“and what about you, pretty dame? I take it you're in charge of the kitchens around here?”

dressed in your chef attire, you were going to meekly answer him, but before you could, roaring laughter erupted in the room. it belonged to the one and only slutty spider you found oh so irritating

in the fraction of seconds, Alastor snapped his neck at an unnatural angle to stare at the spider with a strained smile on his face

needless to say, the cursed image would forever haunt your traumatized psyche

“hasn't your mother taught you it is rude to interrupt a conversation which you have no part in? that just won't do!”

static filled the air and you feared you were going to implode if the heavy pressure didn't lift off soon enough, so you decided to take action

“ugh... yes, I'm the head chef! but, well, I... could actually use some practice and proper training?”

you hated how uncertain you sounded, but Angel's comments and your own dissatisfaction with your culinary products made you quite self-conscious about your skills

“don't fret your pretty little head about it, my dear! I, for one, am a culinary connaisseur and wonderful chef, if I do say so myself. I'll be ecstatic to guide you through your training!”

how you'd be able to handle his booming voice during hours and hours of practice was your first and main concern, but you had never been one to refuse the chance to finally prove the people who had criticized you wrong *cough cough* Angel Dust

since that day, Alastor began to personally give you cooking lessons

he was exuberant and pretty sly when it came to veiled jabs about your dreadful cooking, but he really took his time to help you out

which you had been both grateful and suspicious about

“now, we can't have our future patrons starving to death, can we?”

he was strangely patient and an overall good teacher too (emphasis on overall)

he guided you step by step through each dish, simultaneously showing off his own flawless culinary skills

you hated that you daily found yourself boosting his already GIGANTIC ego, but you couldn't help it. you could only dream about reaching that level of artistry in cooking

he always came up with creative recipes to test your limits and cooked for you in order to make you more familiar with different tastes. his mother’s were your favorites, jambalaya being his one true specialty 

he had blindfolded you once and proceeded to present you with various samples of spices, oilments and all kinds of food so that you could acquaint yourself with the smells and flavors of the ingredients and figure out yourself which ones would best suit a certain dish

saying you were hesitant at first was an understatement, because you know? being completely at the mercy of a sadistic serial killer who had terrorized the seven circles of hell? not even being able to see him? not on your bucket list

he had tried to ease your nervousness with the whole “if I wanted to hurt anyone here, I would have done so already” thing, but it was getting kind of old pretty fast

“if I had been one to play with fire, I'd have joined a circus”

he found your sense of humor as endearing your sheer presence

(when he rolled up his sleeves to cook, you felt like you could catch fire any minute, you were a slut for strong skinny arms) 

yes, Alastor had always loved to show off his own impeccable skills but he unexpectedly found himself enjoying the moments spent in your company too

he relished in seeing you fail again and again, but he also admired the way you always managed to bring yourself back up to your feet each time

he had yet to fully understand if it was foolishness or stubbornness to guide your steps

either way, you turned out to be his favorite form of entertainment in the hotel!

no matter how many slights would he send your way, you'd always manage to find an appropriate remark that made his permanent smile stretch a little more in sheer amusement

“oh dear, this beef is so undercooked one could still hear the poor beast’s lament”

“the only noise I hear is the obnoxious ramblings of an arrogant boomer”

he wasn't technically a boomer but it was always so satisfying to irk him with terms he had no knowledge of

during your cooking lessons, when the only thing left to do with a dish was wait and pray for the best, you'd come to talk about everything and anything

he'd talk to you about his precious New Orleans as he remembered it and you'd fill him in on recent historical/social developments of your time

he always looked so taken when you shared with him that modern knowledge and it made you feel useful for a change

it was, dare you say it, almost adorable how he'd ask you countless questions about your home town, the catastrophes of the last century and had there been any other war since his death?

the topic switches almost made you dizzy though

once or twice, when the timing allowed, he'd even indulge in a musical show to pass time

on the days your mood soured because of a particularly complicated recipe or bad result, he'd drag you along and dance until you were so distracted by the absurdness of the circumstances that you forgot about your previous sadness

with time, his musical shows became more frequent as he realized you'd always offer him a genuine smile after his flashy performances

it was out of personal indulgence, not because he liked the way his music always seemed to cheer you up

he'd not been vocal about the way he tried to comfort you, but you were grateful nonetheless

the first time you managed to succesfully complete one of his complicated recipes, you had almost cried

“now, now deary, under my watchful eye, it was only a matter of time until you'd finally blossom into a fine cook!”

“Alastor can I... can I hug you?”

and how could he say no to such an adorable expression? he found himself stunned into silence, not being able to tell you yes either, therefore you slowly came closer as if trying not to scare a wild animal away

when Alastor passively stood before you, not moving away, you wrapped your arms around him

he really was such a dorky noodle

he didn't relax into the hug, but he kept still as you relished in the moment and let the pressure you had hoarded for months now loose

Alastor proceeded to show off your dish during dinner and even Angel Dust could do nothing but shut up and dig in

The all powerful Radio Demon was simply so proud of your progress - not that he doubted you'd prevail in the end, thanks to his expertise and guidance

from that moment onward things only got better and even if you didn't necessarily need Alastor's help anymore, neither of you ever mentioned going your separate ways

you were both secretly glad for the silent agreement

friendly banter and dad jokes were a daily occurrence and with your new-found confidence in the field, you'd always bite back showing off new delicious dishes instead than words

you still had trouble every now and then, but Alastor was always there to help you out

not that you'd ever hear the end of it if you actually asked him for help

“what was that, my darling? is the mightiest chef in Hell having trouble in Paradise?”

you had noticed however that he'd started sneaking glances your way more than usual lately and he also started following you around wherever you went in the hotel. he became your shadow both inside and outside of the kitchen

the attention soon became unnerving, even more so when you'd go in the kitchen only find a different flower on the counter each morning

you came to realize that Alastor's advances were rather old fashioned, but you would amuse the dork and yourself for a while before taking charge

gifts became an ordinary occurrence as well as praise and you preferred not to think about what praise could do to you when it came from Alastor

he enjoyed your reactions to his flattering words a little too much, he had to admit

you had had enough of his childish antics one day and you decided to finally put your plan into action

“Al, can you come here for one sec?”

he wasn't particularly fond of the nickname, but you just loved to get under his skin as much as he did when it came to you

“what can I do for you, my darling chef?”

“here, I have a gift for you”

he looked uncharacteristically unsure of what to do but slightly amused as well. in the end curiosity took the best of him and he finally decided to open the box you had handed to him rather unceremoniously

“what is this dear?”

the apron you had chosen was a perfect fit for your long boi

“read it, please”

“kiss the cook? well, if you ask me so nicely, I just might have to”

he then proceeded to peck your cheek and you swore you could have fainted right there and then by the sheer sweetness of the gesture

it hadn't exactly been what you had planned, but you weren't going to complain

your relationship was bound to be full of surprises apparently

[anamelessfacelessnerd]

Not me rewriting the ending to Mizumono only to have a much better idea halfway through so as soon as I finished the first one I started on the second

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Hannibal (TV)

Relationship: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Abigail Hobbs

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Mild Blood, Rough Sex, Coming Untouched, Not Beta Read, Dark Will Graham

Language: English

Summary: “I need him to know.” Will looked into Hannibal’s eyes then, searching for the desperation he could hear in his words. “If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”

“I would forgive you.” It’s clear that Hannibal’s not talking about the murder, but the betrayal. He would still forgive Will for conspiring against him. “If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?” The double meaning is apparent. Hannibal was asking Will if he would go with him knowing that Hannibal would forgive him. It’s an invitation. One that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to decline.

“Jack isn't offering forgiveness.” Hannibal wanted to say “I am”, but he didn't. “He wants justice. He wants to see you. See who you are. See who I've become. Know the truth.” Will takes another sip of his wine and Hannibal accepts his defeat. He really hadn’t wanted to hurt Will, but it seemed that it would be the only option.

“Still, I suppose we don’t owe Jack that do we?” Will spoke again.

Notes: Okay, I know I rewrote the ending of Mizumono yesterday, but I had this idea while I wrote it and I couldn't help myself.

“Do you know what an imago is, Will?” Hannibal asked.

“It's a flying insect,” Will replied.

“It's the final stage of a transformation. Maturity.”

“When you become who you will be,” Will said, catching on to the point Hannibal was making.

“It's also a term from the dead religion of psychoanalysis. An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.”

“An ideal.”

“The concept of an ideal always searching for an objective reality to match. I have a concept of you just as you have a concept of me.”

“Neither of us are ideal,” Will says after taking a long drink of his wine. Hannibal considered what Will had just said for a moment. He had nearly trusted an ideal. He thought that Will would leave with him until he smelled Freddie Lounds on him. Perhaps Will was right, neither of them were ideal.

“We are both too curious about too many things for any ideals.” Hannibal paused a moment, feeling a twinge of hesitation for what he was about to ask. It was completely out of character for Hannibal to grovel, but in recent weeks he had grown accustomed to the idea of running away with Will, and he wasn’t quite ready to give the fantasy up. “Is it ideal that Jack die?”

Will matched Hannibal’s pause. Most would not even notice the hesitation, but Hannibal did.

“It's necessary. What happens to Jack has been preordained.” Will’s voice was cold, free from any emotion. In any other circumstance Hannibal would be proud of how well he schooled his expression, but now it just frustrated him.

“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs. Leave a note for Dr. Bloom, never see her or Jack Crawford again. Almost polite,” Hannibal was nearly begging now and Will knew it. Their eyes locked and at once Will understood. Hannibal knew and he was willing to forgive.

“That'd make this our last supper,” Will said, considering Hannibal’s offer. Now, just days away from the sting that he and Jack had planned, Will still wasn’t sure whose side he was really on. Part of him wanted to be good, he wanted to atone for his sins and clear his name for good, because even though he had been acquitted, there were still those who believed he had actually killed all those people.

The other part of him wanted to become what everyone thought him to be. Though he hated to admit it, he had felt a thrill as he killed and mutilated Randall Tier. Even worse was that now thinking about that feeling didn’t make him feel guilty or sick, only enhanced the adrenaline.

If he was being completely honest, half of the thrill was seeing how Hannibal looked at him when he knew what Will had done. The subtle adoration and pride that he was no doubt allowing Will to see. Hannibal’s gaze made Will feel things, things that he had never felt with anyone before, and he wanted to chase that feeling.

“Of this life. I am serving lamb.”

“Sacrificial? Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” Will snorted.

“I freely claim my sin. I don't need a sacrifice. Do you?”

“I need him to know.” Will looked into Hannibal’s eyes then, searching for the desperation he could hear in his words. “If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”

“I would forgive you.” It’s clear that Hannibal’s not talking about the murder, but the betrayal. He would still forgive Will for conspiring against him. “If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?” The double meaning was apparent. Hannibal was asking Will if he would go with him knowing that Hannibal would forgive him. It’s an invitation. One that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to decline.

“Jack isn't offering forgiveness.” Hannibal wanted to say “I am”, but he didn't. “He wants justice. He wants to see you. See who you are. See who I've become. Know the truth.” Will takes another sip of his wine and Hannibal accepts his defeat. He really hadn’t wanted to hurt Will, but it seemed that it would be the only option.

“Still, I suppose we don’t owe Jack that do we?” Will spoke again. Hannibal perked up almost imperceptibly.

“Perhaps a note will be sufficient. I didn’t want to leave the dogs alone, but they’ll be fine for a while. Knowing Jack he’ll send a cruiser to my place within an hour after I don’t show up in the morning.”

“Let us prepare then. I would like to be out of the country before Jack realizes that you are no longer his man on the inside.” Hannibal stood and began gathering plates to bring to the kitchen because of course he would want to leave the house spotless. Will helped him with the dishes and wiping everything down. They caught eyes several times, both revving with the anticipation of what was to come. Will considered apologizing for his conspiracy, but when he looked into Hannibal’s eyes he knew he was already forgiven.

It was a little intoxicating to know that he had this kind of control over hannibal. To know that he made Hannibal beg. He wondered how else he could compel him to beg. That was, once they stopped dancing around the physical aspect of their relationship and finally just fucked like they both wanted to.

Once they were finished they retired to the study to write a note. Hannibal wandered around, collecting particular books and knick knacks that he wanted to bring while Will drafted a note. After much thinking and many balled up pieces of paper, Will finally got it right. When he finished, he handed it to Hannibal to read.

“This will do nicely,” Hannibal said. He slipped the letter into an envelope and sealed it with blood red wax and a stamp that bore his initials.

Will watched as the wax dripped. The flow of the thick liquid was giving him all sorts of dirty thoughts. Thoughts of Hannibal pouring that warm liquid all over his body. Thoughts of being covered in other kinds of red liquid. Will had to take a deep breath to steady himself and bring some blood back up to his head.

When the wax had dried, Hannibal handed the letter to Will, fingers brushing against Will’s skin tenderly.

“I have a surprise for you,” Hannibal said, hand coming to grip Will’s wrist.

“Oh?” Will replied.

“Come with me.” Hannibal led Will upstairs, never letting go of his wrist. Will had only been to the upper floor of Hannibal’s house a few times, and never in the dark, so he didn’t really know where they were going. He had two ideas, one much more enticing than the other, but both equally likely.

As it turned out, neither of his assumptions were correct. Hannibal led him to a closed door at the end of the hallway and knocked.

“May we come in?” He asked. Will didn’t even have time to question who was in there before the door was being opened from the inside. Standing in the doorway was none other than Abigail Hobbs.

“Hi Will,” She said, a small smile playing on her chapped lips.

“Abigail?” Will asked, voice barely audible. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Had Hannibal drugged him? Was he hallucinating?

“How are you here? You’re dead,” Will said.

“Not dead, just misplaced,” Hannibal replied, “they never found a body, well, not a whole body at least. It was merely a charade.”

Abigail tucked her hair back to show Will the flesh where her ear had been. It was healed over by now, but it still brought a wave of bile up in Will’s throat.

“You’ve been here this whole time?” Will asked, choking down the anger that was building in him. There was no sense getting angry now, especially when he was teetering on the edge of a new beginning.

“I’m sorry,” Abigail said, tears welling in her eyes.

“I forgive you,” Will said. Abigail took two big steps forward and wrapped her arms around Will’s middle, burying her tears in his shirt. He brought a hand to her hair and stroked, both soothing her and assuring himself that she was really there and really alive.

“Thank you,” Will whispered to Hannibal. He wasn’t sure what he was thanking him for. Maybe for keeping Abigail alive, maybe for bringing him to her, maybe just because he didn’t know what else to say.

Hannibal’s hand came to rest between Will’s shoulder blades, fingertips shooting electricity down his spine.

“I do not wish to rush you two, but we must be going,” Hannibal said, “there is still much for us to do and little time to do it.”

Abigail pulled back from Will and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, sniffling a few times.

“Will, would you care to help me pack?” Hannibal asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Will cast one last glance at Abigail before following Hannibal to his bedroom.

“Everything in that top drawer must come,” Hannibal said as he set a large suitcase on the bed. Will began transferring the carefully folded garments from the dresser to the suitcase while Hannibal sorted through his suits to find the ones he liked best.

Will and Hannibal's hands brushed for what felt like the 500th time that night as they both attempted to place clothing in the suitcase at the same time. Their eyes met and there was a moment of contemplation before they pounced.

Will dragged Hannibal to the floor and straddled him, hands balling up around fistfulls of Hannibal’s jacket as he pressed their lips together. Hannibal kissed back with equal fervour, hands sliding back to cup Will’s ass. Will moaned into the kiss and rutted his hips against Hannibals. Hannibal bit Will’s lip, not stopping until he drew blood.

They broke away, panting and breathing each other in. Hannibal brought one hand to Will’s cheek and stroked, the pad of his thumb brushing over Will’s parted lips. Will sucked the digit into his mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive skin.

Will ground his hips down, ass rubbing against Hannibal’s rapidly hardening cock. The older man stared up at him in wonder, lips parted and eyes blown wide. He withdrew his hand, swiping his thumb along the bleeding cut on Will’s lip until the skin was stained red. Then he brought it to his own mouth, his eyes rolling back as he savored the metallic taste of his lover’s blood.

“You taste divine Will,” Hannibal said, deep voice sending tremors through Will’s body. That was it, that was the breaking point for Will.

“Take your fucking clothes off,” He demanded as he scrambled off of Hannibal to remove his own clothes.

“Such crass language,” Hannibal scolded, clicking his tongue disapprovingly, “whatever should I do about that?”

Hannibal was trying his best to regain some of the power he had lost in this exchange. Will would let him believe that he did, if only to sate his ego, but Will knew deep down that he was in control. He had known since before Hannibal had pleaded with him that he was in control here. Hannibal had several layers to his persona. The first was the polite, yet slightly eccentric doctor who loved good food and opera, behind that was the calculating psychopath cold, and emotionless. His true personality was hidden deep within himself, but Will was able to see it, after all, he had not yet met a person he couldn’t read.

The person that Hannibal truly was was driven by his emotions. Anger and hurt bubbled under his skin, suppressed by years of burying everything akin to a feeling deep below the surface. He was intensely narcissistic and hedonistic. Everything he did was to fulfill his desires. He ate to satiate his hunger, he killed to assuage a compulsion. He acted solely in his own self interests, and right now Will was his interest. That gave Will ultimate power over Hannibal. He wanted Will in every sense of the word, and would do nearly everything to have him.

Perhaps what solidified Will’s control was the fact that he was aware of this while Hannibal wasn’t. Hannibal had spent so much effort repressing feelings that he genuinely believed that they were never there in the first place. Will knew about Hannibal’s nature, not from the beginning, no he was fooled like everyone else at first, but certainly longer than he let on. He only raised the issue with Jack when he was in danger.

Will put on the facade of being overly emotional, of being unstable, but deep down he was something different entirely. That’s why he was so good at “faking” the coldness he showed with Hannibal, it was never fake, the emotions were fake, and Hannibal was none the wiser. This was Will’s game and Hannibal was barely aware he was playing.

“Will?” Hannibal asked, pulling Will from his thoughts. He kneeled in front of him, now fully nude, his erection jutting out proudly from a bed of well trimmed blonde curls.

“Fuck me,” Will insisted, trying to pass his momentary spacyness off as fascination with the admittedly impressive cock that hung between Hannibal’s legs.

“As you wish.” Yes, as Will wishes. Hannibal will do exactly as Will wishes.

Will doesn’t wait for any more negotiations. He turns around and sinks to his elbows, thighs spread wide to accommodate Hannibal. He heard the older man’s breath catch as Will displayed himself.

“Oh Will, you truly are exquisite. Beauty incarnate.” Hannibal mused. Will watched between his legs as Hannibal reached into the bedside table for a bottle of lube. Hannibal poured the lube onto his fingers, then pressed them to Will’s hole, tracing the rim to get it nice and wet.

Will buried his face in his crossed arms to stifle a moan. The last thing he needed was for Hannibal to know exactly how sensitive he actually was and to exploit that fact. They didn’t have much time and Will was really just looking to be fucked.

Finally, one finger breached Will. It slid in with little resistance and Hannibal added a second. His thumb came to press against Will’s perineum as he scissored his fingers. Will let out a choked sob when Hannibal’s other hand tangled in his hair and pulled his head up sharply.

“I want to hear you Will. I want to hear exactly how much you like this.”

“God, just fuck me already Hannibal,” Will begged, “I’m ready, just get in me.”

Hannibal withdrew his fingers at once. Will didn’t even have a chance to get a word out before Hannibal was pressing his cock inside.

“There you go sweet boy, taking my cock so well, like you were made for it. Like you were born to take me.”

Will had never heard Hannibal speak so lewdly before, but he liked it more than he would ever care to admit. Not that he even could right now with Hannibal thrusting into him with punishing force, hitting his prostate every time.

Hannibal still had one hand in Will’s hair. The other was gripping his hip so tight he would undoubtedly have finger shaped bruises in the morning. He brought his lips down to Will’s shoulder, placing a few gentle kisses there, and that would simply not do. Will needed him to be rough, he needed to be fucked hard.

“Harder,” Will grunted, “come on Hannibal, you can do better than that. Do it like I know you want to. Hurt me.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Hannibal panted.

“Fuck yes, give it to be Hannibal, fucking ruin me.”

Hannibal complied immediately, using all of the force he could to pound into Will like he was trying to split him clean in half. He bit down hard on Will’s shoulder, just short of drawing blood.

Will rocked back to meet every thrust, letting out a litany of pathetic noises that he probably should have been embarrassed about. Hannibal was groaning now too, grunting like a beast in Will’s ear as he shoved in impossibly deeper.

Will’s orgasm was so sudden, he didn’t even feel it coming. In an instant his body went rigid as white hot pleasure coiled in his abdomen and he came completely untouched.

After coming for what felt like hours, he dropped to the floor, thighs shaking too hard to support himself any longer.

Once he had caught his breath, Will rolled over onto his back and spread his legs.

“Keep going,” he told Hannibal, “I want you to use me to make yourself come.”

Hannibal didn’t need to be told twice before sliding back into Will. He hoisted the younger man’s knees up over his shoulders to get a better angle as he slammed in over and over again.

At last, Hannibal gave a final hard thrust and spilled inside Will, coating his insides with his seed. He pulled out and laid on the floor next to him, breathing hard and trembling.

“I would have run away with you a long time ago if I had known that was in store for me,” Will panted, struggling to sit up.

“If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time,” Hannibal said, reaching over to brush a lock of curly hair behind his ear.

Will smiled and kissed Hannibal again. It was softer this time, full of much more affection, especially on Hannibal’s behalf.

“I would sit here with you for eternity Will, but I fear that we must leave soon. We would not want to keep Abigail waiting.” Hannibal said when they pulled away.

“Of course, but first will you promise me something?”

“What is it that you desire?”

“Do that again as soon as we get to wherever we’re going.” Hannibal grinned and cupped Will’s cheek.

“I would gladly have you every day, my dear Will.”

Notes: Listen, we all know who's actually in control and this relationship and it's not Hannibal "Simp" Lecter.

[hymnostic]

people watching hannibal emotionally manipulate will, lie to him about his illness, shove an ear down his throat and send him to a hospital for the criminally insane for crimes he didn't commit: man this age gap is really making me uncomfortable

[disaster-vampire]

❤️‍🔥😘😰 for the hannibal asks!

♥️🔥 will or hannibal?

WHY would you make me choose askshdjskdhdj

i love them both so much? they're fantastic characters and each have their own complexities and dumbasseries and they cannot be separated. they make each other better/worse and one without the other is ultimately a worse deal all around. i simply will not choose. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

😘 hottest character?

i know i'm basic but will graham can have my entire ass, next.

😰 most disturbing scene

there were a few that got to me actually, and it's rare for me to get actual physical feelings as a reaction to a scene in a story that i know is made up but the show managed a few times. the ones that got to me the most are the one where we see hannibal push a tube down will's throat to put the ear in his stomach because for some reason i hadn't considered how the fuck the ear would have gotten there and didn't think they'd show us. and the one where the human origami heart unfolds into a bastardised version of the ravenstag and i genuinely wish we had more scenes like that one in the show. i'd take fucked up disturbing creatures that actually scare me a thousand times over the fucking w*ndigo, not only because it's cultural appropriation but also because the damn thing was ugly, lazy, and bland. yes i had to trash the w*ndigo.

all that said, tysm for sending the questions and for coming up with the ask game in the first place cat 💖💖💖

hannibal asks

[rosy-letters]

Tagged by @ear-motif !! Thank you!! giving you a big glass of matcha milk tea through our computer screens right now

Relationship status: single and TRYING to mingle...

Favorite Color: burgundy & walnut brown!

Song stuck in my head: Liebestraum by Liszt cause I listen to it with rain noises to fall asleep every night (which I am currently trying to calm down for bed so... I'm listening to it to pregame lol)

Last Song I Listened to: Liebestraum <3

Three favorite foods:

Blackberries

Potatoes au gratin

Pickle & butter sandwiches (don't knock it before you try it!! and if you do try it, make sure to try it with the bread toasted)

Last Thing I Googled: "chillywilly hannibal reddit" and "willton hannibal reddit" (cause I'm desperate for any and all content for them)

Dream Trip: SWEDEN TO MEET MY COUSINS IN PERSON & visit the family farm my great great grandad lived on!! I have a whole ass family over there that we didn't know existed cause he died in his 30s when his daughter (my great grandma) was a little kid, and so he passed on none of the information or culture and just suddenly went out of contact with his family (who thought that he ghosted them but no. he was just dead), but now since we reconnected through DNA testing they've been trying to get us into Swedish culture & make up for having us be separated for so long, cause they'd been trying for like eighty years to track us down and get in contact!!

Anything I Want Right Now: for my bedroom to be like, 15 degrees colder. I am Sweating. send help

Tagging anyone who wants to do this!! learning peoples' favorite foods is my favorite thing

tagged by @holyheart thank you!!!!

relationship status: i'm on the aro spectrum !!! thank god for being single!!!

favourite colours: i have no favorite color. like, actually. i happen to be surrounded by blue a lot but i love all equally. wish i could have a favorite color.

song stuck in my head: Cicadas Cry Even Though It Rains by THORNAPPLE

last song i listened to: undress me by Cö shu Nie

three favourite foods: ummm croissants?

last thing googled: other than the umlaut o? "hannibal eating scenes"

dream trip: rome. there's a specific route that i've memorized to the colosseum. excited to one day roman fever my way there.

anything i want right now: to write... please.

@revolvingresidency @vampv0id @princewardo @its-the-ratdawg because they've tagged me in things and so i'm guessing i can tag them too. but ofc no pressure.

[voxmortuus]

Herding The Calf

PAIRING: Hannibal Lecter x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Hannibal (NBC)

WORDS: 1.1k

WARNING: Sorry if this is a little fast-paced and choppy. I feel like my writing is shit today!

SUMMARY/PROMPT: From a lovely Anon: may I ask for a hannibalxreader? id like Hannibal to try to kidnap reader after stalking them for months (as he is interested in the reader and wants to get closer to them, but the only way he thinks he can make the reader care for him is to make them rely on him for all support, therefore he holds them hostage) but the reader is a good fighter and ends up hurting him pretty good, though he eventually knocks them out and the reader is held hostage in his basement and isn't necessarily afraid, just more aggravated because they're bored and want to do something and every time he visits them they ask for stuff to ease their boredom and what have you I want you to take artistic liberty over this as it is pretty much a summary prompt, just have fun if you write this lol have a nice day!

TW: Language | Mentions of Violence | Hostage | Kidnapping | Stockholm Syndrome

IMAGE CREDIT: Google

My Masterlist | Taglist | REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN

A mess of monkeys was pounding on a steel door with ball-peen hammers. Neon lights flashed on and off fast enough to send any epileptic into a seizure. Looking around, you let out a slight moan. The last thing you remember was getting ready to leave Hannibal's house before your face met the floor. Rubbing your head, you look around.

"You have got to be fuckin' kidding me?" You mutter. Taking in your surroundings, you see a toilet with a privacy wall, a bed that of which you woke up on, a sink, and a stand-up shower... and that's it. "He just couldn't take the hint." You shake your head. You try screaming, but nothing was coming of it. Chances are, this basement was soundproof. You try to walk around but, there is no luck whatsoever; here is a glass wall separating you from the rest of the basement. "GOD DAMN IT! HANNIBAL! WHAT THE FUCK?!" you yell. Frustrated.

He makes his way downstairs and takes a seat in front of your... cell. He sits down, looking at you, wiping his lip from the blood you had caused, clocking him a good one in the jaw. "You're a good fighter, Y/N, you got me good, may have even fractured a few ribs... but, you lost, I'm afraid. I wish you would have just listened, given it a chance." He stated.

"Well, Hannibal, you screwed the pooch on that one now, didn't ya? Couldn't you just take the hint? I wasn't interested. You stalked me! For MONTHS! Yet you always managed to have a god damn alibi when I tried to get the police involved. You need help Hannibal." You told him. Looking over his face, rather proud of yourself. Though you thought a moment, you wanted your money back on those damn self-defense classes.

Hannibal wanted you to need him, to rely on him. This was the only other option. When you left his care, he was insistent that you needed to stay, but you felt like you didn't need him anymore, you were feeling better, you felt like you had accomplished in your mental strength. That, and he was getting far too involved; hence you started putting more distance.

Looking at him, you rubbed your face shaking your head. "Hannibal, just let me go. I won't get the police involved- just- let me go. Please."

He stands up and looks at you. "I will bring you dinner and something to drink." He walks away.

"DAMN IT!" You bang on the glass, angry, and rightfully so. You begin to pace. There's nothing to do, nothing to read, he took your phone. You sigh; sitting on the bed, you put your head in your hands and close your eyes, trying to figure out ways to get out of this.

Day in and day out, you pace, growing bored, growing more frustrated, growing more aggravated and agitated. Looking at the wall, your back facing the glass wall, you sigh. Hannibal comes downstairs and takes a seat in front of the window wall.

"Hello, Y/N. How are you feeling?"

"Annoyed, bored, agitated, fuckin Christ Hannibal, a book, art supplies, something. I can't just sit here, pace and sleep. I need substance in my life, and you're not providing that." You state, facing away from him.

"I can give you books. What else?"

"To be let go."

"I will bring you some books. We will discuss some art supplies later."

You've gone through all six books he had brought down to you, Gone With the Wind, Pride and the Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, To Kill A Mocking Bird, Little Women, and Wuthering Heights. Sighing you had lost track of time, your sleep schedule was likely off, and your eating habits were off, you were losing weight, at least you showered, and he had given you a razor, knowing that you wouldn't harm yourself, so at least you could keep up on your shaving. He gave you clean clothes every day. To some, this wasn't so bad, but to you, it was starting to wear on you.

One night Hannibal had decided to sit in the dark you had no idea he was there. You had gone to sleep. Tossing and turning, cold sweats, you start dreaming.

You're stuck in a cage, hanging above a crowd of people, but there's something wrong with these people; they're sick, ill, bleeding from their eyes, noses, and ears. They're trying to get to you, trying to claw at you, not eat you, but they want to kill you. You see Hannibal in the distance, and you start screaming for him. Your voice goes horse. You begin to panic a little more; you're thrashing about in bed. You shoot up and gasp for breath. "HANNIBAL!" you scream.

Standing up, he walks over to the wall looking at you. "Are you okay Y/N?"

"I had the worst dream. People were trying to claw at me, trying to kill me. They were bleeding from their eyes, noses, and ears... I was in a cage, hanging above them, they started to climb the cage, and you were in the distance. I tried calling for you, but I woke up. It was horrifying." You wrap your arms around your knees and look up at him. "Hannibal, please, let me go. Please." You start to cry.

Tilting his head, he looks at you and shakes his head. "I'm afraid I cannot do that." He turns and leaves.

After a few days, he has brought you some high-quality art supplies, canvas, paints, brushes. You had gotten back in touch with your artistic side, and it was honestly a nice feeling. He would come down and watch you, observe you, and you had grown to like his company. Each day you two would talk a little longer, get to know each other a little better. You two would even have art time together and eat dinners together. He kept you in this glass box, and as time went on, you had grown accustomed to it. He had even given you a cat to keep you company. Things were changing in you.

Over time, you had liked the idea of being with him; it was this feeling of calm over you when you saw him. It was like everything was going to be okay. Fleeing wasn't a thought, not so much anymore- at least. He sits there and looks at you. "Good afternoon, Y/N. How are you feeling?"

"Hannibal, I would like to see the outside. Would you accompany me?"

He smiles and looks over your face. Tilting his head, he looks deep into your eyes and unlocks the door, takes your hand, and brings you out back. The sun hits your face you smile. Looking up at him, you smile again. "What a lovely day." you smile. And your wheels start turning surveying the area, but there was this tiny bit that stopped you; if you ran, and he caught you, your next capture, you could be the next meal.