#Hand on ball Lecter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nadinebrooks-sides · 20 days ago

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Here is the link to my masterlist.

Hannibal Lecter: His Sunshine

Hannibal Lecter rarely locked his front door.

Not out of arrogance or forgetfulness, but because his neighbor, (y/n), had a habit of letting herself in. A quiet sort of ritual had formed between them over the past few months.

Her warm presence slipped into his evenings like sunlight filtering through a window: unexpected, comforting, and never quite overstaying.

Tonight, though, he was hosting. Alana Bloom and Will Graham sat at his dining table, sipping wine and slowly working their way through a carefully plated appetizer: foie gras with a cranberry glaze, bright and complex.

The smell of something rich and savory wafted through the air. Alana stood at his side, glass of wine in hand, while Will leaned against the kitchen island with the familiar wariness he always carried like a second skin.

They were mid-conversation when the front door opened.

"That must be (Y/N)," Hannibal said without missing a beat, his eyes softening in that rare way they did only for very select company.

She stepped in like she owned the place, a little sunbeam in a denim jacket and sneakers, holding a brown ball of energy in her arms.

The dog, Nala, wore a tiny yellow bow on her head and immediately wagged her tail like she was thrilled to be indoors with a new audience.

"Hey, Doctor Lecter," (Y/N) chirped, glancing around the room and doing a double take at Alana and Will. Her voice was light and friendly, as if she lived there, as if walking into Hannibal Lecter’s house was one of the most normal things she had ever done. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

Will blinked. Alana looked between her and Hannibal, expression frozen in polite surprise.

Hannibal only tilted his head. “You’re always welcome, (Y/N). You know this. Nala as well.”

“I’m (Y/N). And you two must be Alana and Will. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said to them. She extended a hand while Nala squirmed slightly in her arms.

Alana arched her brow staring at the brown mini schnauzer in (y/n)’s arms . “She’s adorable.”

“Hannibal told me you like dogs,” she added, eyes on Will as she gently handed Nala over. “She likes soft-spoken people. I think you’ll get along just fine.” The little dog immediately started licking his face like they were old friends.

(Y/N) turned her bright attention to Alana. “You’re prettier than I thought you were gonna be. That’s so unfair.”

Alana gave a breath of a laugh, glancing toward Hannibal like she couldn’t believe this was happening.

(Y/N) shifted, rising on her toes to kiss Hannibal on the cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Thanks for agreeing to watch her, Doc. I’ve got a date tonight, but I shouldn't be out too late. You’ll tell her not to eat your slippers, right?”

“She prefers leather,” Hannibal said with a perfectly neutral face, but a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Alana and Will were silent as she breezed out just as easily as she arrived, calling over her shoulder, “Wish me luck!”

Hannibal gave a small, indulgent smile. “Good luck.”

The door shut behind her and silence lingered for a moment, broken only by the soft panting of Nala, now nestled on Will’s lap like he was her new throne.

“If sunshine were a person, it would be her,” Alana said, looking toward the front hall in disbelief. “And you like her.”

Hannibal merely lifted his glass, swirling the wine. “She’s an enjoyable neighbor.”

“I’m surprised you’ve never mentioned her,” Alana added, raising an eyebrow at Hannibal.

“There was nothing to mention,” he replied smoothly, taking a sip of his wine.

“Really?” Alana’s eyes sparkled. “Because you smiled when she walked in.”

“I can see why. She's very pretty.” Will added.

Hannibal’s gaze flicked toward him. Sharp. Icy.

Will, rubbing Nala’s head, narrowed his eyes slightly. “How do you feel about her going on that date?”

Hannibal didn’t answer. But the slight twitch of his jaw and the way his gaze lingered on the door gave them all they needed to know.

Later that night, the lock clicked and (Y/N) walked back in without knocking.

Will looked up from his glass. “You just have a key?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” she said breezily.

Alana turned slowly to Hannibal, one brow raised. Her smirk said oh, there’s definitely something here.

Then (y/n) walked straight up to Will, ruffling a hand through his hair. “I like your curls. They’re soft.”

Will looked a little stunned. Alana looked like she was trying not to laugh. Hannibal was already holding out a glass of wine for her as she flopped onto the couch beside him.

“Dessert?” he asked, gesturing to the plate waiting for her. A perfect lemon tart.

She groaned. “You know me so well. That date was a disaster. Boring. No opinions on anything. He called my job ‘cute.’ Like I’m just babysitting teenagers all day.”

“He wasn’t worth your time,” Hannibal said simply.

(Y/N) picked up her fork. “Yeah, but at least now I know. Plus, Nala got some quality time with you guys.”

Will looked at her. “I think she likes me.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “She has great taste.”

Alana watched Hannibal closely. There was something calm about him now, like he’d been holding his breath until she walked back in.

(Y/N) rose from the couch, cradling Nala in her arms again after she'd eagerly crawled back over from Will's lap.

"Alright, Nala. Time for bed, sweetheart. We've both had a big day."

She turned to Alana, her smile bright and natural. "I'd love to get dinner with you sometime soon, by the way. As long as Will agrees to babysit this spoiled gremlin."

Will, still recovering from being playfully manhandled, looked up with a crooked grin. “Deal. She’s less demanding than most people.”

"Perfect," (Y/N) chirped. Then she turned to Hannibal and gave him a soft smile. “Thanks again for the wine and the tart, Doc. You spoil me.”

Hannibal bowed his head slightly, one hand tucked behind his back. “It’s always a pleasure.”

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek again—so natural, so casual—then waved and disappeared through the door.

The silence that followed felt oddly full. Alana was the first to break it.

“She’s literally a ray of sunshine,” she said, almost in awe. Her eyes were still on the door, as if expecting (Y/N) to come back in with one more bright comment.

“She is,” Hannibal agreed. He moved slowly, delicately gathering the wine glasses as if he needed to keep his hands busy. “She teaches high school math.”

Will laughed softly. “Of course she does.”

Alana looked at Hannibal over the rim of her glass. “When are you going to make a move on her?”

Will’s brow lifted. “Before I do?”

That earned a look from Alana, but Will only laughed harder, cheeks coloring slightly as he remembered the way she’d tousled his hair like they were old friends.

“I didn’t say I would,” Will defended. “But you saw her. Who wouldn’t?”

Hannibal didn’t respond immediately. His face was schooled, as always, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes. He didn’t like the idea of anyone else looking at her like that.

“She deserves someone more thoughtful,” he said finally.

“She deserves someone who smiles at her the way you do.” Alana said to Hannibal.

The next day at the FBI building, the teasing began the moment Hannibal stepped inside.

Alana leaned against his office doorway with a smirk. “Sleep well, Hannibal?”

Will popped his head in behind her. “Or were you up late thinking about your sunshine?”

He didn’t dignify them with a response, just lifted a brow and sipped his coffee. That didn’t stop Alana from grinning.

“You let her into your house, around your knives, your wine, your dog-sitter duties, and now you’re telling me there’s still nothing going on?”

“I never said that,” Hannibal replied coolly.

Now Beverly had joined in. “Wait, who’s sunshine?”

Jack raised a brow as well, clearly amused. “You’ve been holding out on us, Hannibal.”

That afternoon Hannibal was reviewing files in his study at the townhouse when he heard the knock. A soft, familiar rhythm.

He was mildly surprised. She rarely knocked. And she had a key.

He opened the door, eyes landing on (Y/N) in an oversized hoodie and leggings, her hair pulled back messily. She gave him a slightly sheepish smile.

“Is it weird that I usually just come in?” she asked, clutching a small notepad in her hand.

“I don’t mind,” he said, stepping aside to let her in. “But I’m curious, what prompted the formality?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. You were having dinner with people last night. Maybe I thought I’d seem like less of a stray cat if I actually knocked today.”

“Stray cats are often charming,” he murmured.

(Y/N) plopped onto the arm of his couch, flipping open her notepad. “Okay. So. I want to learn how to cook.”

Hannibal arched his brow.

“Not like… French gourmet level,” she said quickly. “I mean, you can do that. But I’ll burn your house down. I just want to not embarrass myself when someone asks if I can make something that isn’t cereal.”

He considered for a moment, then nodded once. “We’ll start tonight. Something simple.”

The kitchen smelled like roasted garlic and something warm and buttery. (Y/N) stood barefoot by the counter, rolling out dough with determined concentration while Hannibal quietly diced herbs.

“Okay,” she said, lifting her hands dramatically. “This doesn’t look completely terrible.”

“It looks promising,” he agreed, moving closer to examine the rolled dough.

“Just wait till I bake it and turn this whole effort into a carbonized disaster.”

“You won’t,” he said, guiding her toward the oven with a warm, steady hand at the small of her back. “I’m here.”

It was such a simple sentence. But her breath caught a little as she slid the pan into the oven.

Of course, twenty minutes later, she did burn it. Just a little.

Hannibal didn’t comment, only smirked when she let out a groan and buried her face in her hands.

“I am a disgrace to women in Hallmark movies everywhere.”

He chuckled, genuinely. Not a polite social laugh, but something low and warm.

She peeked up at him. “Don’t laugh at me, Hannibal.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m enjoying your company.”

Something about the way he said it made her blush. She turned to grab a dish towel, but he caught her wrist gently.

His gaze lingered on her, thoughtful, curious, perhaps even fond.

She tilted her head at him, lips curved.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said softly. “I might fall in love.”

He held her gaze a second longer, before stepping back slightly, ever composed.

“I’ll try to be more careful with my expressions,” he murmured, though the amused flicker in his eyes said otherwise.

Later, when the laughter had settled and she was curled on his couch, sipping a glass of wine, she looked over at him.

“My school’s hosting a fundraising carnival next weekend,” she said. “Games, booths, food trucks. They always go all out. I’m supposed to show my face, but I don’t really want to go alone.”

“Are you inviting me?” he asked, placing his glass down.

She smiled. “I am. If you’re up for it. I mean, it’s no opera house, but the fried Oreos are great.”

Hannibal leaned back in his chair, watching her with an unreadable expression.

“For you,” he said quietly, “I’d endure worse.”

She laughed, throwing a pillow at him gently.

“You say that now, but wait until you see my principal in a dunk tank.”

The school carnival was already in full swing by the time Hannibal arrived, the late afternoon sun casting a warm golden haze across the lawn. Booths lined the parking lot, each one buzzing with energy: pie-throwing games, local food vendors, a dunk tank, and more high schoolers than he had seen in one place…ever.

Then he spotted her.

And looked adorable.

(Y/N) stood near the ticket booth, waving animatedly at someone across the way. She wore a pair of denim overalls rolled up at the ankles, white sneakers now smudged with grass, and her school’s bright purple T-shirt with a hand-drawn-looking mascot on the front. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, tendrils escaping around her face, and she looked absolutely radiant.

Hannibal allowed himself a private smile. She had always been vibrant, but here, in her element, surrounded by students and coworkers, she absolutely glowed.

“Hey, you made it!” she beamed, trotting over with a slight bounce. Her face lit up even more at the sight of him. “You look very clean for a carnival.”

He was, in fact, immaculate. A pale blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled precisely to the elbow, dark slacks, and loafers that had no business being near cotton candy or hay bales. And yet he somehow looked like he belonged, at least to her.

“I do try to maintain a standard,” he said mildly, offering a crooked smile. “You, however, look appropriately festive.”

She twirled once, the front pocket of her overalls flapping. “You like the fit? It's peak teacher chic.”

He chuckled and held out the canvas tote he’d brought. “A gift. Since you mentioned being low on raffle tickets.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as she peeked in. “You brought me a whole roll?! Hannibal! That’s like, a hundred tickets. I could win a car.”

“I rather thought you might like the giant unicorn plush I saw near the back.”

She laughed and hooked her arm through his. “I’m saving the unicorn for next year. This year’s prize is a dignified, grown woman’s carnival stag.”

As the two of them wandered the grounds, he marveled at how effortlessly she moved through her world. Students ran up to her with neon snow cones, teachers waved from booths, and even parents offered warm greetings. Everyone had something to say to Miss (Y/L/N), and she greeted every one of them by name.

It was charming. Overwhelmingly so.

Then came the group of girls, probably freshmen or sophomores, all oversized glasses, braces, and shy energy.

“Miss (L/N)!” one of them squeaked. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Hannibal pretended to be entirely focused on the ring toss booth, but his ears honed in with surgical precision.

(Y/N) looked at the girls, then at Hannibal, who remained deliberately aloof, then back to the girls with a slow smile.

“Something like that,” she said, eyes twinkling.

The girls exploded into giggles.

“He’s kinda hot.” one whispered too loudly before they fled like startled deer.

Hannibal arched a brow at her once they were alone again. “Something like that?”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you,” she teased, nudging his elbow.

“You assume I'm embarrassed easily,” he said coolly, but there was amusement in his tone.

Later, while they pursued the games, Hannibal quietly bested a particularly tricky ring toss. He returned to her, victorious, holding a stuffed stag.

“For you.”

(Y/N) clutched the prize dramatically. “He’s perfect. His name is Lecter.”

He smirked. “Naturally.”

As the evening waned and string lights flickered on overhead, (Y/N) found herself mid-conversation with a colleague when her hand brushed against Hannibal’s. Almost without thinking, she laced her fingers through his. She didn’t look at him immediately, too nervous, but finally she glanced up.

“Is… is this okay?”

His voice was low and warm. “More than okay.”

And just like that, the chaos of the carnival melted away.

Later that night, Hannibal walked her to her door. He expected to say goodnight, but she unlocked the door and tilted her head with a smile.

“Come in. I’ll make you tea.”

He followed her inside. The lights were soft as Nala asleep in a tiny donut-shaped bed by the couch. She disappeared into the kitchen, calling out, “Thank you for today, Hannibal. You were perfect. Even won me a stag.”

“I believe Lecter is the real star of the evening.”

She laughed and returned with two mugs of chamomile. She handed him one, curled up on the couch in her overalls, and looked at him with sleepy contentment.

“I promise not to let Nala eat him,” she said solemnly. “But I am sleeping with him every night.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

They sipped in silence, the night calm and warm.

It wasn’t a grand confession. It wasn’t a kiss. But the air between them had shifted.

And Hannibal knew he was already in far deeper than he had ever planned.

The Behavioral Sciences office was as stark and clinical as (Y/N) had expected. There were gray walls, government-issued furniture, and people in buttoned-up suits moving briskly from one corner to the other.

She stood in the middle of it all like a drop of honey in a cup of black coffee.

Her bright blouse and high-waisted jeans were a splash of color against the muted palette, and the small brown paper bag she carried gave her the same look she wore every time she walked into her classroom holding a birthday cupcake for a student: proud, warm, and a little mischievous.

She looked around the office before her eyes settled on the tall man with the salt-and-pepper beard who seemed to exude authority. He was smiling at something someone had said, but when she walked up to him, that small smile widened into something real.

“Hi,” she said. “You look like you're in charge.”

Jack Crawford chuckled, standing. “That’s one way to describe it.”

“I’m looking for Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I figured it was time I saw where he goes when he disappears into his mysterious day job.”

Jack grinned, already liking her. “And who might you be?”

“I’m the neighbor,” she said with a wink. “But I also come bearing food. So I’d say I’m more of a hero.”

He laughed—a real, chest-deep laugh that echoed around the room. Agents looked up in surprise. “Well, any friend of Hannibal’s is welcome around here. I’m Jack.”

They shook hands, and the two quickly fell into an easy conversation. Jack asked about teaching, her sharing a story about one of her more chaotic algebra classes, and the two of them laughing like old friends.

Meanwhile, in his office, Hannibal was in the middle of a session with Will when the door opened.

Alana leaned in, trying (and failing) to hide her smirk. “Your sunshine is here.”

Will raised an eyebrow, confused. Hannibal’s own expression didn’t change, but he stood up without hesitation.

From the hall, he could already hear Jack laughing. When he turned the corner, he found (Y/N) standing beside him, animatedly talking, her paper bag held protectively in both hands.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him.

“There you are,” she said with a grin. “I got a little bold today. Used my day off to cook for you.”

She lifted the bag like a trophy.

Jack gave Hannibal a look, the sort that said, You lucky bastard.

(Y/N) turned and spotted Alana. “You’re here too! I feel like I’m on some weird crossover episode.” She hugged Alana like they were old friends, then caught sight of Will just behind them.

“William!” she chirped, walking right over to ruffle his hair.

Will blinked like a surprised dog, then chuckled. “You’re in rare form today.”

“I’m always like this,” she said with a shrug. “Just not always in federal buildings.”

Hannibal took the bag from her hands with a reverent kind of amusement. “You cooked for me?”

She looked proud and slightly sheepish. “I did. Don’t worry, nothing’s charred this time. I had a very patient and wildly talented teacher.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, his voice warm.

Alana appeared in the doorway again, lightly tapping her watch. “Hannibal, we’ve got to go. Field consult.”

He sighed softly and looked back at (Y/N), reluctant. She stood up on tiptoe to hug him, arms slipping around his waist.

“I’ll see you later,” she murmured.

He nodded, brushing his hand gently against her back. “Thank you for the surprise.”

As she left, Alana watched her go with raised brows, then turned to Hannibal with a knowing smirk. “You’ve got it bad.”

That evening, Hannibal returned home expecting the familiar. Maybe she’d already let herself into his apartment, curled up on the couch with Nala and a book. Maybe the little stuffed stag named Lecter would be resting on her stomach as she napped.

Instead, her apartment light was on, and something about the quiet felt…off.

He knocked gently. “(Y/N)?”

“Come in,” her voice called, weak but still cheerful.

She was stretched out on her couch, her head resting against a pillow with a cool towel draped across her forehead. Nala was curled loyally at her side, as if standing guard.

“You’re not well,” Hannibal said softly, moving to kneel beside her.

“Just a headache. One of those annoying ones that feels like it’s behind your eye.” She cracked one eye open. “Still alive though. Did you eat the lunch I made?”

“I did. It was delicious.”

“Liar,” she whispered, smiling.

Hannibal chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “No, truly. A bit salty, perhaps. But very well-seasoned.”

“Salt’s a seasoning,” she mumbled, making him laugh again.

“I’ll make tea,” he said, rising.

He moved with his usual elegant precision, boiling water, preparing chamomile, and bringing over a glass of water and a small bottle of painkillers.

When she sat up with a groan, he helped her take them before offering his hand.

“Come. I’ve drawn a bath.”

“You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Would you do it for me?”

“…Yes.”

“Then allow me.”

He helped her to the bathroom. The lights were dimmed, the tub full and steaming gently with lavender-scented water. She turned to thank him, but when she reached for the hem of her shirt to undress, he was still there.

Their eyes met.

Something charged settled between them.

She didn’t say it aloud, but he read it in the look: Don’t go.

And he didn’t. He simply turned around, giving her privacy.

Later, when she emerged in a soft robe, cheeks flushed from the heat, he was still there, waiting in her living room with Nala asleep at his feet and tea cooling on the table.

She sat beside him quietly.

Their fingers touched on the couch cushion. Then lingered.

Neither of them joked it away this time. No teasing glances. No smirks.

Just stillness. Warmth.

And when (Y/N) leaned her head on his shoulder with a small sigh, Hannibal closed his eyes.

Even Nala stayed asleep.

The living room was quiet, golden, and still.

Hannibal sat in his favorite armchair with a worn book open in his lap, though his eyes hadn’t moved from the same paragraph in nearly ten minutes. Not because the content failed to hold his attention — but because (Y/N) had fallen asleep beside him on the couch, and her presence anchored him in a way that no story could compete with.

She was curled up under the throw blanket she kept in the corner of his living room, her face tucked halfway into the plush fabric, her breathing deep and even. The stuffed stag, Lecter, rested just beneath her chin.

His phone buzzed quietly against the table.

Alana: Have you told her you love her yet?

He didn’t reply right away.

The screen blinked again, and this time, the buzzing didn’t stop. Alana was calling.

He glanced toward (Y/N), still undisturbed, before slipping out into the hallway.

“Hello,” he answered quietly. “Is it urgent?”

“Don’t ‘hello’ me, Hannibal. Answer the question.”

He could hear Will in the background. “He hasn’t even kissed her yet Alana, he can’t say that he loves her. But when are you going to her, Lecter?”

“You take care of her when she’s sick.” Alana said. “You dealt with a high school fundraiser for a night and her dog basically lives at your house. What are you waiting for?”

There was a shuffle as Will grabbed the phone.

“Listen,” Will’s voice came through, slightly muffled. “If you’re not ready to tell her, fine. But you could at least ask her out. Like, a real date. None of this neighborly wine and soup crap.”

“I bring dessert, too,” Hannibal replied, amused.

Will huffed. “That’s worse.”

Alana was back on the line. “She’s obviously crazy about you. You know that, right?”

Hannibal leaned against the wall, allowing himself a rare moment of honesty. “Yes.”

“So what are you waiting for?”

He looked toward the door, past the threshold where she lay asleep on his couch. Peaceful. Trusting. A part of his home now in ways he never imagined someone could be.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly.

“Well,” Alana said, “figure it out before Will does.”

“I heard that!” Will called in the background.

He hung up a moment later and returned to the living room, where (Y/N) was still asleep, her nose twitching slightly as Nala repositioned herself near her feet.

With a small sigh, Hannibal moved into the kitchen.

He didn’t think about what he was doing, he just cooked. Something warm and comforting. Braised chicken in a herb-thyme broth with creamy potatoes, the kind of meal meant to soothe headaches and sleepless nights.

He plated it carefully, placing each item like a gift, the way he always did when it was for her.

She stirred just as he was setting the table.

Her hair was mussed, and one sock had slipped halfway off her foot, but she smiled sleepily at the scent of food.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” she murmured as she stretched.

“But I wanted to.”

She rubbed at her eyes, then blinked up at him with something gentle and unguarded. “You’re gonna spoil me.”

He smiled, helping her to her feet. “I think I already have.”

They ate slowly, talking about nothing and everything. She told him about her students, how one of them had asked if she had a boyfriend who was “good at math” and he told her about a particularly infuriating dinner guest who had no palate whatsoever.

Afterward, she stood and grabbed his hand.

“Come with me.”

She led him out to her small balcony garden, where string lights had been hung above the railings, twinkling like stars caught in branches.

It was warm and green and chaotic, with ceramic pots of herbs crowding every surface and the faint scent of mint in the air.

Hannibal stood still, soaking in the ambiance.

She turned to him with pride written all over her face. “It’s not much, but I love it. I thought the lights might make it feel a little more magical.”

He looked at her, really looked.

The fairy lights caught in her hair, glimmered in her eyes, and when she hugged Lecter to her chest like a child might a favorite toy, something in him simply broke open.

She glanced up at him just in time to see the look on his face, the one she’d caught only in fleeting moments, never for this long.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate.

And then he kissed her.

It was soft and questioning, barely more than a breath, but it sent lightning through both of them. She froze for a heartbeat, and he felt it, thought he’d misread the moment, thought he’d gone too far and he began to pull back.

“I’m sorry—”

But she caught him by the collar, her grin blooming like sunrise. “You’re ridiculous.”

And then she pulled him back down.

The second kiss was fuller, certain. Her hands in his hair, his arms around her waist. A little clumsy, a little breathless and absolutely perfect.

When they finally pulled apart, Nala was sitting just inside the open doorway, tail wagging.

“Even she approves,” (Y/N) murmured.

“She’s always been a good judge of character,” Hannibal replied.

The fairy lights above them flickered gently in the breeze, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, Hannibal felt completely at peace.

#hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter imagine #will graham hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x female reader #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter one shot #hannibal lecter x you #murder husbands

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thesunoficaruss · 23 days ago

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hand ball lecter

#this is so stupid #nbc hannibal #hannibal #hannibal lecter

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desperatelyseekingcannibals · 5 months ago

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One Hand Free (Hannigram S4) - shortfic

Explicit // M/M // Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham // Tags: Post season 3, injury, injury recovery, fever dreams, sex dreams, woke up horny, inappropriate erections, morning wood, masturbation, hand jobs, rough manual sex, slightly painful sex, rough hand job.

Post fall Will finally wakes from a fever and needs one hand free.

Latest installment on my @hannibalbingo card: "All I Need Is One Hand Free" One Hand Free (3k): “All I need is one hand free,” Gideon muttered the words under his breath as he eyed the guards.

No, not Gideon.

Will balled his fist, looked at the guards and muttered, “All I need is one hand free…”

He grit his teeth through the pain of dislocating his thumb and then pulled the handcuff over his hand, turning it to use as a weapon.

Then came chaos. Noise and movement that Will’s brain supplied as having to have been true given the evidence. The blood, the damage, the injuries - the ones before their organs were removed and hung in the tree like----

“All I need is one hand free,” Hannibal grinned around the words, trussed as he was to the trolley - wheeled about like cargo so that he could hear Will say ‘please’ when he asked for his help with the Great Red Dragon.

“One hand?” Will asked, his thoughts so very far away. He wasn’t sure if this was real, or a memory. Was the back of the van a memory? Was he really here in Hannibal’s cell? He wasn’t sure if it had happened like this.

“To help you,” Hannibal explained, flicking his eyes down to Will’s crotch.

Will sucked in a sharp breath. He was hard, he realised now, his trousers tenting obscenely, though Hannibal seemed to be the only one who had noticed, despite the orderly being right there. Stoic, statue-like as though he couldn’t hear or see anything that was happening between Will and Hannibal.

“I could help you,” Hannibal continued, his voice a low, sensual growl, “all I need is one hand free, and I’d”----

Both his hands were free, Will realised as Hannibal jumped on Dolarhyde’s back, holding tight as he bit into the man’s neck and pulled away a chunk of his throat.

Hannibal was free.

Continue on AO3

#hannibal #hannigram #fanfic #myfic #will graham #hannibal lecter #Hannibal S4

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t6kioo · 6 months ago

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entry no. 1

there’s something inherently grotesque about love. it’s not the soft, pastel-colored thing hallmark would have you believe. love is sharp teeth and bloodied hands. it’s hunger—actual, visceral hunger.

we “devour” each other with our eyes. we “consume” each other’s attention. we talk about “aching” for someone, about feeling “empty” without them. love songs croon about addiction and obsession, about needing someone like a junkie needs a fix. calvin harris and the disciples literally sang, “i want you to breathe me in, let me be your air.” love demands consumption, down to the bare bone.

the cultural shorthand is clear: desire is hunger. and hunger—real hunger—has always had a dark edge. maybe that’s why the cannibal keeps showing up in our stories about love. hannibal lecter and clarice starling’s hypnotic dance of intellect and temptation. armie hammer’s scandal that felt like the logical end point of his sexy, “aristocratic” image. netflix’s fresh, where sebastian stan plays a charming man who dates women only to harvest their flesh. and let’s not forget our beloved twilight—edward cullen, sparkling like a disco ball, warning bella, “you’re like my own personal brand of heroin.”

what is love if not the urge to consume? the desire to take someone so deeply into yourself that they become a part of you—biologically, spiritually, metaphorically. and what is heartbreak if not hunger pangs when that person is gone?

cannibalism makes an excellent metaphor because it’s all about boundaries—or the lack thereof. loving someone means letting them in, letting them get so close that the lines between you start to blur. but what happens when that intimacy turns dangerous? when the hunger isn’t mutual? when one person is the predator and the other is the prey?

jeffrey dahmer didn’t kill people because he hated them. he killed them because he couldn’t bear to be alone. he wanted to keep them close, permanently. it’s completely horrifying, yes, but also tragically relatable. anyone who’s stayed up all night rereading texts from an ex, anyone who’s memorized someone’s spotify playlists just to feel connected—congratulations, you’re already halfway to dahmer’s basement.

romeo and juliet, the classic tale of doomed romance, hinges on mutual destruction. they consume each other until there’s nothing left, literal poison sealing the deal. it’s the same story in wuthering heights. heathcliff doesn’t just love cathy; he wants to haunt her. when she dies, he famously cries out, “be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss where i cannot find you!” romantic? sure. but it’s also deeply unhinged.

maybe that’s why vampires, zombies, and other flesh-eaters keep showing up as metaphors for desire. they’re embodiments of hunger without limits, love without boundaries. they remind us that intimacy is inherently risky. to love someone is to hand them a knife and hope they don’t use it.

but the truth is, we want them to use it—just a little. we want the vulnerability, the ache, the bite. we want to be consumed. after all, what’s the alternative? to be alone? to keep your heart under glass, untouched and pristine? no one writes sonnets about that. no one makes movies about lovers who stay politely detached.

maybe cannibalism is the perfect metaphor for love. it’s a bit unsettling, sure, but so is the way we talk about relationships. soulmates. twin flames. two halves of a whole. it’s all just a pretty way of saying: i want you inside me. not just physically, but spiritually. i want to know you so deeply that the distinction between me and you dissolves.

and isn’t that a little terrifying? isn’t that what keeps us awake at night? the knowledge that love will either complete us—or consume us whole.

so eat your heart out. or let someone else do it. either way, bon appétit.

#dark academia #writing #writings #female writers #essay #personal essay #essay writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #literature #lit #girlblogging #girlblog #female hysteria #dark feminine #hell is a teenage girl #love

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misunderstood-m0nster · 11 months ago

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{Clarice and Lecter finally get to talk! So sorry for the long wait between part 1 (which acts as a prologue for context, so read it first if you haven’t)and part 2, I was just a little nervous to post my writing. Anyway I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!!}

I DREAM OF YOU

Clarice stirred as a draft of wind chilled her room. She pulled her duvet closer around her. The hinges of her window creaked as if the blizzard tugged the glass back and forth. Slow, rhythmic, eerie. Each squeak was like a very faint scream. She forcefully shut her eyes, willing herself to go back to sleep. She’d moved past this, this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. To detach from her primal fear she tried to numb herself, Clarice felt like a mannequin or an empty skin-suit as she resisted the urge to sit up and check every corner of her room, an impulse she was just as familiar with as drifting to sleep. Despite her instincts she did fall back to sleep. Albeit a disorientating, psychedelic sleep where a kaleidoscope of distorted faces and bodies contorted in her mind. A severed head in glass, a body still as a lake on an autopsy table. She remembered standing by Chilton’s grave, her apathy overshadowed by the sick feeling that his body ,or what remained of it, was just beneath her. Of course Lecter was suspected, it was a typical animalistic, cannibalistic attack. The only thing out of the ordinary was how perfectly intact the face was, eyes and all, like Lecter wanted him to be seen and recognised beside the indistinguishable amalgamation of the rest of his mangled remains. She imagined the thick coat of snow covering the graveyard now furthering the distance between Chilton and her. She shuddered as she took a deep breath and icy air filled her lungs, like she was really there. However her eyes fluttered open as she became alert to how unnaturally cold her room was and they darted to the window. To her horror she realised that each creak was really it being tugged open and shut by the wind. Why would it ever be open in winter? She moved to close it and as she yanked it shut, she stood in a cold puddle from the snowflakes which had blown into her room.

‘Hello Clarice’

She froze. Maybe if she didn’t turn around it wouldn’t be real.

‘Dr Lecter?’ she said breathlessly, finally plucking up the courage to face him.

He stood blocking her doorway, there was nowhere for her to go and nothing for her to defend herself in her narrow bedroom.

‘What are you doing here?’ Clarice took a cautious step towards him, she tried to sound accusatory but her voice was low and soft, brimming with all the pent up emotion of the last five years.

‘I thought you might have wanted to see me’ he cooed patronisingly and his maroon eyes glinted as they reflected the moon. All she could make out in the dim lighting was the outline of his sinewy figure and a slither of his ghostly face which looked like a waning crescent against a pitch black sky. He stepped forward elegantly and intentionally like a shakespearean actor, hands clasped behind his back.

‘Was I correct?’ Lecter teased as his gaze savoured the torn, contorted expressions which flashed across her face.

‘Why would I want to see you?’ She spat, balling her hands into fists. Her question was as useless a defence as the fists she made at her side neither were going to impact him and he knew it.

‘Is it not your job? To find me?’ He tilted his head and his eyebrows slanted with a pitying look which could be passed off as empathy if you didn’t know the mind behind it.

Clarice was seething ‘Get the fuck out of here.’

He chuckled, dismissing her. She lunged at him knocking him to her bed, his surprising strength kept the force from winding him and he sprang back up clutching both her wrists in his cold hands so she couldn’t run through the door. His fingers securely curled around her like vines but never aggressively. Reluctantly she looked into his eyes, they were only inches apart. She realised this was the first time they had been together with no barrier between them. Clarice wasn’t sure how to feel about this.

‘Please, sit’ Lecter led her gently until she was sitting on the bed. He didn’t release his clammy grasp on her wrists until she tugged away, he didn’t resist and let her go.

Clarice didn’t know what else to do but hear him out. She sat like a child, with her legs crossed while Lecter reclined against her wall.

‘I can’t believe you would show up here today’ she muttered dryly.

‘Well why not?’ he huffed sarcastically ‘by my law I’m as free a man as any, I go where I want… and I so desperately wanted to see you’

He laughed at himself, it wasn’t a loud laugh but it was certainly abrasive. His laughter faded and melded with the roar of the storm outside. She let out a breathy huff at his oh so humorous statement.

‘Why now Dr?’

‘Convenience, coincidence perhaps’

‘Why a coincidence?’

‘It seems like you would benefit from my presence tonight’

‘Hah!’ Clarice’s jaw dropped, sometimes she forgot Lecter’s sheer nerve and ego ‘what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I only mean that it seems you are bothered?’

‘Not at all, Dr’

‘Conflicted?’

She shook her head.

‘Confused?’

‘Confused as to why you’re in my goddamn house maybe!’ it came out louder than she had anticipated. Lecter only chuckled at her exclamation.

‘So you mean to tell me that my little Starling is doing just fine and I had no need to check up on her’ he sat straighter, no longer using the wall for support. As he moved the springs of her mattress creaked giving her a jolt of terror as she realised Hannibal Lecter was on her bed.

‘I am not ‘your little Starling’, I’m older now Dr, I’m not the ‘rube’ you thought I was’

‘I know that Clarice, you’re no less country than I believed but far more brilliant than even I expected’

‘Shut up, I don’t care what you think of me, I’m just trying-’

‘Of course I know you can never be mine’ his statement chilled her to the bones more than the winter draft that refused to dissipate ‘I had to let you fly free and look what you’ve done!’

‘What exactly are you trying to say here?’ Clarice dropped her voice an octave as she sat up and leant closer to Lecter. She was done with his cat and mouse schtick, it was all fun and games when he was useful to her. She knew what she was doing now and didn’t want his ‘help’.

‘I’m saying your career has been a glittering success, am I not correct?’

‘My progression is on track, yes’

‘I meant personally’ he leant even closer, he smelt of coldness if a feeling could have such a thing.

‘Are you satisfied Clarice?’ his maroon eyes glimmered and his voice peaked in excitement ‘you’ve really helped so many peopl-’

‘I don’t want to hear it Lecter!’ Clarice snapped, she finally pulled away to place some distance between herself and the cannibal.

‘Why I thought you would be just ecstatic to tell me all about your accomplishments, the buffalo bill case of course-’

Clarice buried her head in her hands, she pulled her legs up to her chest and let tears stain the worn knees of her pyjama trousers. How had she let herself cry in front of Lecter?

The usual images flashed across her mind. Gumb’s writhing limbs. That voice taunting her. The decaying bodies on autopsy tables. The chrysalis crudely jammed in the poor girl’s throat.

‘They don’t give a shit do they, about the ones we didn’t save?’

‘Maybe some do, maybe superficially but generally no’ Lecter’s voice calmed her, to her surprise ‘an eye for an eye is how they see it-’

‘It’s hardly balanced’ she sniffed.

‘I guess not but does that matter as long as you get your raise and the FBI get to tie it up with a bow and forget all about it, at least the rich girl-’

‘Catherine’

‘At least she is alive, to them that’s all that matters’

Clarice let out a shaky breath, he confirmed with words what she felt deep down. He hadn’t said anything revolutionary, she’d always been resigned to ‘the way things were’ but god… did it have to be like this?

‘You see yourself in those mutilated women more than you see yourself in an FBI office’

‘That’s not true, they were innocent, victims. I asked for this, I got myself involved’

‘You were a victim of circumstance Clarice, you overcame advers-’

‘Just because I wasn’t made of money like you Dr, doesn’t mean I’m some helpless victim’ she looked him dead in the eyes and spoke with a snarl. She never imagined she could be so aggressive with him.

‘I know you’re not Clarice, just look at you’ he gazed at her with an expression she couldn’t place.

‘You’re not like any of them my dear, you are so much more’

‘Why do you treat me like some oddity, Dr?’ Clarice covered her eyes once again as tears came ‘I’m just another person, I’m just trying to DO something.’

‘That’s what makes you so special, Clarice’ he reached out and brushed back her dark hair resting his hand where it ended, on the back of her neck ‘now do stop crying it is most-’

‘They just don’t see it all the way I do, they are more than individual cases’ she muttered through her tears, more to herself than to Lecter ‘it’s all the same, the lambs, Chilton, Gumb, everybody’

As she vented her feelings, Clarice leant into Lecter’s touch subconsciously. She found herself nestled between his arm and his chest still twittering away almost inaudibly. She didn’t notice Lecter stiffen as she buried her face in his side for a split second. He was unrecognisable from his collected, precise performance. Wide eyes flickered between Clarice’s face and his own hand which slowly and uncertainly moved to hold her tighter.

‘I’ve never felt so alone’ she murmured, the isolation was staggering. None of her colleagues had experienced a case like hers. To them Lecter and Gumb were nothing more than monsters in the closet but to her they were so real, so vivid and most disturbingly so human.

Lecter held her in silence as the tears stopped. She hadn’t cried like this in years, definitely not in her adult years. It felt cleansing somehow. It was as if with each tear drop she had blessed herself and Lecter with holy water, momentarily washing away everything that had come before in one sacred second of serenity. Lecter brought it to an end as he pulled away and took her tear stained face in his right hand, if he used his left she might recoil from his ‘mutation’. He gently dried her ruddy cheeks with fingers absent of all warmth and colour. For a man capable of such violence he had a striking capacity for gentleness, his touch was so fragile it was as if she had imagined it. Was Clarice evil for wondering if his lips would be just as gentle?

Her eyes wandered in this direction but as he spoke he redirected her attention sharply.

‘Stop looking for me, Clarice’

He tightened his grip on her face.

‘Clarice, promise me you will stop looking for me’

Lecter’s heart beat unusually quickly as he stared down at Clarice’s unflinching reaction. They were silent for what felt like a minute. Lecter let out an uncharacteristic, startled breath as she interlocked her own five fingers with his six.

‘No’ she answered bluntly.

‘Oh Clarice’ he smiled wryly ‘so naive’

She yanked him forward by his hand which she held against her pounding chest.

‘It’s time you stopped chasing the past, my dear’ he spat in her face, she left him really no other choice.

‘Oh Dr, now you’re the one being naive’ she inched closer to him and practically felt their lips brush as she spoke ‘don’t you know I’ve always been chasing the past’

‘Are you saying that I’m your new lamb, Clarice?’ he hissed.

‘What?’ she was taken aback by his response, any confidence and assertiveness she had built up was instantly knocked ‘No? What are you-’

Perhaps he was right, a figment of her past, haunting her dreams, motivating her in some sick and twisted way, fuelling her fire, mocking her when she failed.

‘You need to stop looking, for your own good’ he was more serious than she’d seen, no teasing or sarcasm- just real, earnest concern.

‘I don’t want to’ she murmured ‘I just want-’

She was at a loss for words. Did she want a normal life or to keep hunting her past until she died? Did she want to forget all of this or cling to the events that had shaped her?

‘Maybe I just want to kiss you’ she asked but it wasn’t so much a question as an admission. Sure she’d wondered what they might be, whether there had been any genuinity to their interactions, whether what she felt for Lecter was lust or something even more horrific- like love.

Before she knew it her desire was fulfilled. For an instant they were intertwined in a cold, frantic lapse in restraint. His hand on her back sent shivers down her spine and she could almost pretend that what was happening was beautiful rather than inconceivable, irrational and downright awful.

‘Why did you leave me?’ Clarice cried in a small, solemn voice as they pulled apart. She clung around Lecter’s neck with a feverish desperation, even in such a surreal moment she laughed at her own vulnerability.

‘Please don’t leave me’ she dug her fingers into his face like talons into prey as she felt him stir.

‘Stop looking for me’

Lecter pried away her fingers with a gentle motion of his hand. He took her trembling hands between his own.

‘Don’t do this job, Clarice’

He stood up, leaving her bed looking too empty.

‘Don’t-’ she whispered.

‘Just forget about me, it’s better this way’ he looked at her with a tender affection more delicate than a drop of snow.

‘No, I’m not afraid of you, I want to, I don’t know BE WITH YOU’ Clarice found herself springing from the mattress in a fit of seeming madness ‘we can run away, whatever, I don’t- how can I stop looking for you?’

She reached out and held his face savouring each peculiar but beautiful detail.

‘I mean you’re right here?’ she said breathily.

Lecter’s expression distorted to a menacing, mocking grin but he did not respond.

Clarice blinked. She was back in bed. The window was still open?

She pressed a hand to her cheek to feel frozen tears. Of course he hadn’t really been here. He was only a lamb, haunting her in her dreams.

————

{If you read all this I literally love you, thank you so much! Please let me know what you think and ask me any questions you still have (I will be more than happy to answer). Anyway I need to thank @whoeveniswren for the prompt, sorry I had to inflict Clarice with the same horrible feeling of waking up from a dream and wishing it was reality muhahaha. Seriously though I hope you enjoyed this even if it’s not exactly what you were looking for!}

#clannibal #clarice starling #hannibal lecter #clarice x hannibal #hannibal #sotl #the silence of the lambs #jodie foster #anthony hopkins #clannibal fanfic

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cedarxwing · 1 year ago

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Faust allusions in Hannibal

"I believe that Hannibal Lecter is as close as you can come to the devil, to Satan. He's the fallen angel. His motives are not banal reasons, like childhood abuse or junkie parents. It's in his genes. He finds life is most beautiful on the threshold to death, and that is something that is much closer to the fallen angel than it is to a psychopath." - Mads Mikkelsen on Hannibal as the Devil

I'm not a Faust expert or anything, but I've been balls deep in Wikipedia for the last week and here are my findings:

Super Short Summary of Faust:

Faust is an old scholar dissatisfied with life. One day Mephistopheles (the Devil) shows up and offers him a deal including unlimited knowledge and worldly pleasures. The particulars of the deal vary by version:

Original Faustbuch: Mephisto offers 24 years of service, and then Faust must serve him forever in hell.

Goethe: Mephisto will serve Faust until he experiences a moment of perfect satisfaction, after which he'll be dragged to hell. (Mephisto also makes a secondary bet with God that he can tempt Faust away from righteousness and into damnation.)

Gounod's opera: Mephisto turns Faust young again and wins him the beautiful Marguerite's heart. He also offers knowledge and power, but the story is more about Marguerite.

In most versions, Faust is damned to Hell at the end. In Goethe's version, Faust finds his moment of perfect satisfaction, but Mephisto doesn't succeed in tempting Faust into sin, so Faust ends up going to Heaven.

Explicit References

I won't list all the times the script refers to Hannibal as the Devil, but they're fun to look for. :)

The first explicit reference to Faust is in Sorbet (1x07), when Gounod's Le veau d'or plays while Hannibal gathers meat for his dinner party. This aria is Mephisto's manifesto on human nature:

"The calf of gold is the victor over the gods! In its derisory (absurde) glory, The abject monster insults heaven! It contemplates, oh weird frenzy! At his feet the human race, Hurling itself about, iron in hand, In blood and in the mire, Where gleams the burning metal, And satan leads the dance"

People are slaves to greed and easily tempted away from their morals--a nice description of Hannibal's perspective on humanity and his favorite pastime. I also like the implication that the rude people in his Rolodex are damned souls that he's come to reap.

This is a quote from Hannibal Rising when Hannibal watches Faust at the Opera Garnier with Lady Murasaki and the Paris Police Commissioner (which, wow, this chapter is practically Phantom of the Opera fanfiction). It's funny, because at that point in the novel, Hannibal is more Faust than Mephisto, so he's contemptuous of himself. Later, once he's undergone some, ahem, character development, the book quotes Goethe:

"I'd yield myself to the Devil instantly, Did it not happen that myself am he!"

This is probably the origin of the "Hannibal is the Devil" interpretation.

Also, I just want to point out that it's not particularly unique to be contemptuous of Gounod's Faust. He's a skeevy old man who fucks up his own life and everyone else's out of boredom, which is very human and relatable, but not very likable! We're all Fausts who are contemptuous of Faust, just like we're all rooting for Hannibal and contemptuous of Chilton.

Another quote from Goethe. Faust says this line while complaining that he has to choose between a simple/familiar/earthly life and a life unbound by earthly limitations (x). The double meaning of this line perfectly sums up Dolarhyde's predicament. He gave up a normal life to experience something otherworldly, and now he's fighting against the Red Dragon to save Reba.

This line also summarizes the temptation Hannibal dangles in front of Will. "Don't you crave change, Will?" A moment of perfect satisfaction, after which his soul will forever belong to Hannibal. This moment comes to pass when they kill Dolarhyde and go off the cliff, a metaphorical fall from Heaven (better explained here: x).

Not to get too lost in the weeds, but I would argue that killing Dolarhyde wasn't really a sin (maybe it was a sin to let those prison guards die, but killing Dolarhyde was self-defense and he was a serial killer for Pete's sake), so Hannibal lost his bet with God (Jack), and Will (Faust) is going to heaven after all, just like in Goethe's version. Maybe this idea would've been explored in Season 4, who knows.

Faustian Bargains

Once you strike a bargain with Hannibal, your soul belongs to him, and he can collect it at any time. The whole show is a series of people falling for this trap (except for Will, to Hannibal's never-ending frustration).

Some characters go to Hannibal seeking "otherworldly knowledge" while others are motivated by material greed. Gideon wants to know the Ripper and pays the price. Chilton and Sutcliffe commiserate with Hannibal in their medical malpractice and are punished accordingly. In Digestivo, Alana/Margot accept Hannibal's offer to take the fall for Mason's murder (and also get Mason's sperm) so they can inherit the Verger fortune.

The Faustian bargain motif is most apparent in Season 3, when Hannibal starts making characters explicitly ask for his help:

And, of course, the bargain Hannibal waited three seasons to strike:

Bedelia is the purest manifestation of this. She makes not one but two deals with Hannibal. The first was to help her get away with murder. The second was to take her "behind the veil" in Florence, where she acquires otherworldly knowledge and experiences. This is framed as "lucid greed" on her part, and maybe not just greed for knowledge, depending on how much she made off her lectures about being Lydia Fell! Hannibal spends Season 3a trying to get her to "participate" and makes some headway before his plans are derailed. She gets her come-uppance in the post-credits scene.

Finally, the most heartbreaking deal Hannibal makes:

Abigail's soul belongs to Hannibal as soon as she accepts this offer. In Mizumono, she willingly goes to her fate. :(

(Again, I'm not an expert, so if I got anything wrong please correct me!!)

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal meta #faust #bedelia du maurier #alana bloom #will graham #abel gideon #frederick chilton #margot verger #francis dolarhyde

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dogstarbytes · 2 years ago

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we all have bad dreams; part II to "lachrymose"

part I | part II

pairing: hannibal lecter x gn reader

pronouns: they/them

desc: you show up at hannibal lecter's doorstep six months after your first meeting, asking for a shoulder to cry on.

trigger warnings: mentions of sewerslide, alcohol drinking, some angst

w.c: 1,189

the dread that filled your chest agonized you as your footsteps grew heavy on the concrete. it was late, too late for your doctor to be up at this time, but you needed someone, anyone, to talk to.

you drudged up the steps, and found yourself in front of the door. the lights were on: a good sign, you thought.

letting out a heavy sigh, you gripped the bag in your right hand, and brought your left up, balled it in a fist, and drew three knocks against the door.

not a few moments later, hannibal lecter opened the door.

"y/n, what brings you here?" he asked. "it's late. you should be resting."

you laughed dryly. "so should you, doctor lecter." lifting the bag in your right hand, you ask, "care for a drink?"

hannibal stood for a moment, eyes studying you, before moving aside. "what did you bring?"

"armand de brignac ace of spades rose." you answered, stilling when he took the bag and set it aside.

"may i?"

his hands hovered over your shoulders, fingers just barely touching you. it took you a moment to realize what he was asking; you nodded, and his fingers carefully slipped your jacket off of your shoulders and hung it up on the nearest coat hanger.

"thank you." you hummed, and he nodded in turn, grabbing the bag of wine and showing you to the kitchen.

his kitchen, unlike his office, seemed minimal. just the things you'd see in any other kitchen. it didn't exude "old money", like you'd thought of his office at first, and it didn't seem expensive, either. the color palette, full of grays, beiges, whites, a pinch of brown, reminded you of a morgue.

the sound of glass against marble broke your train of thought. looking at hannibal, you watched as he grabbed two wine glasses, as he poured the wine, and as he handed you yours. you mumbled a thank you, put the brim to your lips, and drank.

for a long moment, it was quiet. then, hannibal's voice.

"tell me, y/n, what brings you here at five in the morning."

you sighed, licking your lips. then, you took another sip. and another, and another, all until your glass was empty. you reached for the bottle to pour more, but hannibal scooted it away. you pouted.

"what's wrong, y/n." hannibal asserted. "i don't think you're here just for a drink."

you looked at him, eyes red and burning. then, sighing, you said, "i had a dream that..." you closed your eyes, picking at your chapped lips. "...you and everyone in my life...hate dealing with me." you swallowed, mouth dry. "i still can't tell if it was real or not. if i'm still dreaming."

hannibal looked at you, eyes searching your face. you jumped when you felt two fingers pinch the skin between your shoulder and neck. your eyes peeled open, and you looked at him.

"did that hurt you?" hannibal asked. you nodded. shortly after, so did he. "good. that means you are awake." he took a sip of his wine. "what did you see in your dream?"

you sighed, rubbing the spot he pinched. "i saw you, my doctor, friends from my university, and..." you knitted your eyebrows together. "...my mom."

eyes still fixed on you, hannibal moved closer. "what did she say to you."

tears pricked your eyes, and you ducked your head to hide your face. "she said that...she wished my attempt succeeded, because i'm a burden to her and the people around me."

"your most recent attempt?" hannibal asked. you shook your head.

"my first one, when i was fourteen." you muttered. "we'd gotten into a bad fight, and she said that she wished she miscarried so she wouldn't have had to go through hell to raise me."

"so you tried to kill yourself." he stated bluntly.

you nodded slowly. "that's the gist of it, yeah."

hannibal was quiet, before saying, "why do you think your mom wished you were dead?"

"i never said i think that."

"our dreams reflect what we think. they can reflect issues in our daily lives." hannibal spoke neatly, voice smooth. you lifted your head.

"then," you clicked your tongue, "what do you dream about, doctor lecter?"

"this isn't about me, y/n. this is about you and what you're thinking." hannibal leaned against the counter. "why do you think you're mom wished you died, y/n."

you frowned at his avoidance, dipping your head down to look at the marble counter.

"i don't think i want to talk about that."

hannibal nodded. "then, why do you think i hate dealing with you?"

you shook your head. "that's irrelevant."

"i think it's pretty relevant to this conversation." he countered. "do you want to hear what i think?"

you didn't answer. he continued.

"i think you think i might leave." he said. "that i might refer you to a different psychiatrist if i deem myself not qualified enough to help you through your problems."

he moved closer to you, making careful, calculated steps. "you think that if you make the wrong move, or say the wrong thing, that i won't be able to handle it. but i assure you, y/n," he tucked two curled knuckles under your chin and tilted your head up to face him. "the only thing that would stop me from helping you deal with your problems would be death."

you struggled to look him in the eyes, so you instead focused on every other aspect of his face. you focused on every line, spot, crease. the aged scars, the vague stubble.

"sei bello." you heard yourself say.

you could see hannibal's small smile out of the corner of your eye. he slid his hand up and embraced your cheek. you sighed, delighted at his warmth.

"we all have bad dreams, y/n," hannibal said suddenly. "and it's up to us to face them," he paused, eyes studying your face. "or fear them."

"what do you do when you have bad dreams?" you asked, eyes finally meeting his. he thought for a moment, eyes wandering over your face, before meeting back with yours.

"i face them." he answered.

you stayed silent for a long moment, mind racing. then you nodded. "thank you."

he shook his head, dropping his hand from your cheek. "it's my job to help you through your problems."

"do you help all your patients at five in the morning?" you asked rhetorically. hannibal's lips twitched in a smile, and he shook his head again.

"no, i don't." he poured you another glass of wine, sliding it over to you. you took a sip.

sighing, you looked at your watch. "i should head home soon." you looked up at him, and smiled. "thank you again, doctor lecter. i owe you."

"you owe me nothing, y/n." he returned your smile, then took a sip of his wine.

you shook your head and sipped your wine. your eyes scanned his face, and again you said, "sei bello."

hannibal took another sip and returned, "ir tu esi stebuklas."

———

a/n: i hope you enjoyed !!! part two suggested by @killmwritesshit =]]

#hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannibal mads mikkelsen #mads mikkelsen hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hannibal x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #hannibal fic #hannibal lecter fic #hannibal 2013

190 notes · View notes

illpoison · 1 year ago

Text

Hand in balls lecter and will graham

#hannibal #hannigram #fanart #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy

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x-fantasy-is-my-reality-x · 2 years ago

Text

Full Masterlist

Updated: 6/18/25

💥 Attack on Titan:

Attack on Pranks

→Attack on Pranks: Chapter 1 (The First Task)

→Attack on Pranks: Chapter 2 (Keep Running)

→Attack on Pranks: Chapter 3 (How it All Started)

→Attack on Pranks: Chapter 4 (Showdown)

Attack on Titan Short Story Collection

→Attack on Titan Short Story Collection: Fireworks

→Attack on Titan Short Story Collection: Towels

💥 Kengan Ashura:

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

→Chapter 1: Shut up, Raian

→Chapter 2: Off His Ass (NSFW)

→Chapter 3: Naughty

→Chapter 4: FishFace

->Chapter 5: Meat Gazer (NSFW)

💥 Dragon Ball:

A Serendipitous Future

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit

→Chapter 1: The Flames of Destruction

→Chapter 2: The Game Begins

→Chapter 3: Blink of an Eye

→Chapter 4: Cat out of the Bag

→Chapter 5: The Room

→Chapter 6: Chained Freedom

→Chapter 7: The Calvary Arrives

→Chapter 8: The Curse of Immortality

→Chapter 9: Hate Me Not

→Chapter 10: Victory

→Chapter 11: Zamasu’s Revenge

→Chapter 12: Hidden Treasures

→Chapter 13: The Wolf

→Chapter 14: Infiltrator

→Chapter 15: An Unlikely Allegiance

→Chapter 16: The Forest

→Chapter 17: Red Lights

→Chapter 18: Reunion

→Chapter 19: Even Nightmares Dream

→Chapter 20: The Pact

→Chapter 21: The Ritual [SMUT]

→Chapter 22: Back Again

→Chapter 23: Return of the Past

💥 Baki:

Not Really Katsumi

💥 One Punch Man:

Mayhem

💥 Friday the 13th/Halloween:

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason

→Chapter 1: Handful

→Chapter 2: Halloween Headache

→Chapter 3: You Make Me Go Crazy (SMUT)

💥Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit:

The Elf and the Elk

Red of Rivendell

Mischief

→Mischief: Chapter 1

→Mischief: Chapter 2

→Mischief: Chapter 3

→Mischief: Chapter 4

→Mischief: Chapter 5

→Mischief: Chapter 6

→Mischief: Chapter 7

Behind Locked Doors and Darkened Corridors

-> Chapter 1: Just a Man (NSFW)

-> Chapter 2: Innocence Won't Keep You-Surrender to the Red Head [SMUT]

-> Chapter 3: In this Cold, Lonely Tower, There was Only You [SMUT]

Just for tonight, General. (And we'll kill them all tomorrow.) [SMUT]

💥Tangled (2010):

Dirty: Stabbington Brothers/Reader [SMUT]

Works In Progress

If there's anything in particular that you want to see posted, just comment on this post or shoot me a DM, and I'll try to get that one out a bit faster! If you have any questions also feel free to let me know. Some of these were written a while ago and forgotten about but I hate leaving things unfinished.

💥 House of Wax/Halloween:

You Look Like Me (And I Don't Like It): Bo Sinclair x Michael Myers

💥 Friday the 13th/Halloween:

Sharp Love: Jason Voorhees x Michael Myers

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason-Chapter 3

💥 The Collector (Asa Emory):

On Your Own: Professor!Asa Emory x Reader

Never Kiss a Stranger At the Bar: Professor!Asa Emory x Reader

Wrong File: Professor!Asa Emory x Reader

The TA: Professor!Asa Emory x Reader

💥 Hannibal (NBC):

Symphony of Murder: Asa Emory & Hannibal Lecter

💥 Slasher Harem:

House of Horror: Brahms/Asa/Michael/Jason/Harry/Pyramid Head/Bo/Thomas/Ghostface/Jason x Reader

💥 Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit:

Gold and Brown: Lindir x Legolas

Elven Encounters

Taste of Revenge

The Three Hunters: How it Should Have Been

💥 Mo Dao Zu Shi:

No Choice But the Wrong One: Xue Yang x Reader

💥 Banana Fish:

Cold Blue: Frederick Arthur x Reader

💥 Baki:

To Love a Monster: Yujiro x Reader

Triple Doom: Implied Mouth Triplets x Jun Guevaru

💥 Attack on Titan:

Attack on Titan Short Story Collection-Body Swap

💥 Kengan Ashura:

The Shadow That Never Sleeps

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian-Chapter 5

Kengan Ashura Oneshots-That's Not a Swimsuit: Ohma Tokita x Reader

Strong, Stronger, and the Strongest: Ohma Tokita x Lihito x Kure Raian

💥 Dragon Ball:

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit-Chapter 23

The Devil's Promise: Goku Black x Reader

💥 Record of Ragnarok:

Cherrypop: Buddha x Reader

💥 Toriko:

55 Days to Tame the Beast: Zebra x Reader

💥 Sherlock Holmes (BBC):

The Untold Tales of a Second

💥 Squid Game:

All I See is Pink: Pink Soldiers x Reader

💥 Harry Potter:

Pranking Severus Snape

Mercy for the Brave: Severus Snape x Reader

💥 Marvel-Loki:

Not So Cold: Loki Odinson x Reader

💥 How To Train Your Dragon 3:

DragonSlayer: Grimmel x Reader

Betrothed to a Killer: Grimmel x Reader

#masterlist #multifandom

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totally-not-a-cannibal-hannibal · 2 years ago

Text

To My Taste

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Part 5: Cornered Animal

Masterlist

⚠️Warnings⚠️ Talk of childhood abuse, mention of death, a bit of gore, and gaslighting.

"Your hand is bleeding, did you cut it on something?" Hannibal asked as he picked up my hand. I must have bit too far down on a few of them. My nail beds looked like they lost a fight with a weed wacker.

"No, I was biting the skin." I say as I try to pull my hand back but he keeps it in his grasp.

"I have a first aid kit, one moment." He says as he lets go of my hand finally and goes to the kitchen. He returned shortly after with the kit.

"This isn't necessary, I just picked the skin too much. It happens." I say as I keep my hands closed in a fist. Hannibal readys some cotton balls with some kind of antiseptic solution. Once he was ready he kneeled down in front of me and took my hand.

"The mouth can be a very nasty place, biting at your cuticles like this is just inviting infections. This shouldn't sting." He said as he rubbed the cotton balls gently over my small wounds. I winced a bit and tried to curl my fingers inwards. He laid my hand on my knee, palm down so my fingers couldn't escape him.

I didn't have the highest pain tolerance and the dull stinging almost made me whimper. Hannibal's eyes flick up towards me. It was embarrassing to think I was squirming so much from a little antiseptic solution. He blew gently on my fingers once he was done applying the solution. His breath seemed to take the sting away. "How long have you experienced Dermatophagia?"

"What? Oh is that skin biting? I don't know. I sucked my thumb till I was 13. I guess this is what replaced it. I don't normally do it anymore."

"Only when stressed?" He questioned as he put Band-Aids on three of the worst fingers.

"Yeah. I thought I kicked it." I say finally pulling my hands away from him.

"Do you have an oral fixation?" He asked in all earnest. Even after all I had been through today I was tempted to make a dirty joke but I was worried it might embarrass him.

"That's awfully Freudian of you, Dr. Lecter" I say with a smirk to make sure he knows I was just teasing. He lets out a soft chuckle.

"I suppose you are right but a broken clock is right at least twice a day." He says with a small smile.

"Maybe I do, I'm not really sure." I had a few ex-boyfriends who'd say I did but I couldn't really say that to Hannibal now could I?

"Are you hungry? You must be, you haven't eaten since last night." Hannibal says as he stands up.

"No, not really."

"Humor me and have some carrot slices with me." He says as he heads towards the kitchen. I sigh as I get up to follow him.

He got some long carrots from his fridge and grabbed a long sharp knife to cut them in slivers.

"Have any ranch?" I ask as I sit up at the bar.

"I do not but I have some leftover hummus I made."

"Oh that sounds good." I say as I crunch down on a carrot. He smiles and gets the small tub of hummus.

"I was thinking about it and you have an appointment tomorrow with me. I can't promise Will will give us anytime alone tomorrow. It might be easier to have it tonight. I have a home office we can use." It made sense and I did have a lot on my mind.

"That works for me. So you noticed Will's clinginess too?" I ask feeling a little embarrassed for some reason. Hannibal nods as he takes a bite of carrot. He looked like he was trying to choose his next words very carefully.

"He is very fond of his friends. He doesn't bond with people easily. I think that only exacerbates how passionate he can be about the ones he cares for. It didn't make you uncomfortable did it?"

"No, of course not. I love cuddling as much as the next girl. It was just unexpected from him."

"He enjoys your company a fair bit. The job requires him to get too close to monsters such as the one who attacked you. Perhaps the lines blurred for him a bit. This killer has become obsessed with you or rather killing you, and Will must empathize with him to catch him."

"You don't think he'd try to hurt me? Will gets pretty invested in the minds of these killers but he doesn't become them."

"I don't think Will would hurt you intentionally but his recent behavior towards you might be a side effect of his empathizing with your attacker but how different are love and obsession truly?"

The question seemed so odd coming from Hannibal. It was an insane notion to make. Could he really think that or was he just playing devil's advocate for an argument no one had made.

We finished our snack of carrots and he took me to his office. He had me sit down in the chair in front of his desk. The lights in here were dim making the office feel cozy and relaxing. He sat down at his desk and pulled out a notepad and pen.

"Speaking of Sigmund Freud, tell me more about your mother." He said gently but there was no hint of a joke. I laughed a little unsure if he was serious.

"Well now that you mention it I am attracted to older women."

"I am asking genuinely. Tell me about her. You must know her well, it just being you two." I was surprised he actually wanted to hear about her. I did all I could to try and not to think about her that much in all honesty. His phrasing bothered me. It just being you two.

"Well honestly it wasn't just us for part of my childhood. I had a little sister just two years younger." I grin remembering her little face lit up by the sun in the summer. Hannibal's eyes softened a bit.

"You had a little sister? No longer?" He asked, his tone was different somehow I couldn't place it.

"She had an accident when we were kids… I rather not talk about Madeline. It was ages ago, feels like a different life." I look up at Hannibal letting him see the tears threatening to fall down my face.

"I understand more than you know. My apologies, please tell me about your mother. What was her name, her job?" He pushed the tissue box closer to me but I was determined not to need them. I take a second to force the tears back down then I speak.

"There isn't too much to tell. Her name is Sarah, she's 47 years old. And she is a librarian."

"47 is very young to have a daughter your age."

"Yeah, that's the abstinence only rule for you. She was a teen mom. She was 16 when she had me."

"Lydia, can I be candid with you? It is a practice of mine to do background checks on my patients. Your last name had some interesting results. What I'm saying is I know what your mother actually did as a profession. It's nothing to be ashamed of." He spoke carefully and clearly. I felt a knot in my stomach when he explained. If he saw police reports then he knew what happened to Madeline.

"That is incredibly invasive and just plain creepy! Why the fuck would you need to do a background check on me! I had many done before I could join the FBI. You knew I didn't have a criminal record or any outstanding parking tickets, you were just snooping!" I wanted to stand up and walk away but where would I walk to? It was his house after all.

He leaned on his desk folding his hands together and nodded as I scrutinized him.

"You may call it snooping if you wish but it is a practice of mine. I did it for Will and I'll do it for any other patients I may have in the future. It is for my safety but also I find it useful to know if a patient is being truthful with me. I am telling you this so I can let you know you shouldn't be ashamed." He spoke softly but firmly as he stared at me from across his table.

I squirmed a bit in my seat feeling uncomfortable about the invasion of privacy I felt.

"What am I supposed to say? My mom was and still is an alcoholic prostitute? That's not a pretty picture to paint of my own mother. I didn't lie because I'm ashamed of her, I lied to protect her reputation. She always loved to read so I tell people she is a librarian." I was so mad at him, if I hadn't just had the second worst day of my life I would have probably chewed him out.

"I don't care what your mother did for a profession. I care how she treated you. Prostitution is a perfectly valid form of employment. Your anger is understandable though. What was she like as a mother? Be honest with me, imagine your mother is not your own. How would you describe her parenting methods?" I was pissed but there was something freeing about the thought of being able to say what I have been feeling my whole life.

"She had no parenting method. She was hardly a parent. She was a child taking care of a child. She did her best but her mother's trauma became her's and thus it became mine. Before Madeline's death she was okay, a little flighty but we always had food and the house was clean enough but after… Well she took Maddie's death pretty hard." I absent-mindedly brought my finger up to my lips to chew at the gnarled skin. Hannibal stiffened up in his seat and cleared his throat. The taste of the antiseptic on my fingers lingered in my mouth reminding me not to chew.

"Lydia what happened to Madeline?" He asked as he clicked his pen and wrote something down. I scoffed when he asked.

"You did a background check on my family, you saw the death certificate. Fill in the blanks."

"This is true, I know it was deemed an accidental death but I'd like to hear it from you. Please share this with me." The audacity of him to ask me to share my pain with him when he already knows the story.

"Why should I? What do you get out of this Hannibal? Do you get off to sob stories or something? Do you get hard seeing people cry?" It was rude, harsh, down right malicious but I was mad, hurt and frankly scared to relive that day again. He didn't seem to bat an eye at my accusations. He loosened his tie just a bit and leaned back in his chair.

"I had a young sister whose name was Mischa. She passed when we were very young. I understand your pain to a degree, the loss of a younger sibling can make the older sibling feel responsible. No matter what happened that day it wasn't your fault Lydia."

"Shut up Hannibal. You don't know anything. It was my fault." I was careful not to raise my voice at him. I was scared if I started to scream I wouldn't stop. "Fuck…" I licked my lips and began to pick at my nails. He was just trying to help even if I didn't understand how talking about it would be beneficial. "I'm sorry Hannibal, it's still so fresh. And I'm sorry to hear about your sister. She would have been proud of you." Hannibal nodded solemnly.

"Thank you, I appreciate that Lydia." He says looking at me with a melancholy filled expression.

"Do you really want to know?" I ask, looking away from him.

"I want you to feel safe enough to want to share this with me." He said as he closed his notepad.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, I was afraid if I looked at his somber face I wouldn't be able to stop myself from crying.

"It was pouring that day, as you can imagine with our mom's line of work Madeline and I would play outside, often raining or not. I loved playing tag, of course I did, I always won because Maddie was so much shorter than me. She was only 8, in hindsight tag was really unfair. She wanted to play house. I should have just played house with her. she was such a good little sister and would play tag with me no matter how much she hated it." With my eyes closed I could see her cherub-like face staring at me.

I opened my eyes quickly and kept them on the floor as I continued. "Mom always told us not to run on that fucking hill but it was so much fun to play on when it was dry. It was covered in trees enough to make it a pretty well wooded area. If you ever lost your footing there was always a tree to stop your fall." The tears came quickly as I realized the irony of that statement.

"I told her that mom wouldn't care if we played tag up there. I said I'd be it first so she didn't have to be. I gave her a head start once. I started to chase her, That's when it happened. Her little foot slipped off some exposed rock. She fell so fast I wasn't even sure what happened. I just heard a scream and she was gone." I began to sob remembering the sound of her shrill cries. "I don't know what tree did it, she hit so many on the way down but one almost knocked her head clean off. By the time I got down to her she wasn't moving. I kept screaming her name but she wouldn't respond." Hannibal stood up and kneeled down in front of me. I moved my eyes again so I wouldn't have to look at him.

"I don't know what made me think this but I just kept thinking if I could get her back to the patio, which was home base, she'd be okay. I carried her back home. Mom must have heard the screams because she ran out to meet us. She kept screaming at me, she kept asking what happened to her baby. She took her from my arms and I never saw her again."

He tried to hand me tissues but must have realized I wasn't going to take them so he started to dry my tears for me.

"She treated you like it was your fault?" He asked as he sat on the arm of the chair and rubbed my back. I nodded trying to compose myself.

"She still hates me for it. She wouldn't let me say her name for years. She said I didn't have a right to. I'd cry for her to comfort me. That's all I ever wanted from her was comfort, to feel safe. She would never give that to me after Maddie died. Her way of punishing me I guess."

"You were a ten year old little girl. She was wrong for blaming you. She should have cared more for her living daughter. I'm sorry she didn't. You didn't deserve that." He spoke softly, letting me gather myself.

"Is that enough? Can I stop now please?" I choke out as I lean against him.

"Yes thank you for sharing something so personal with me." He stroked my hair slowly. In any other situation I would have pulled away, but right now I would take any reassurance I could get. After a few moments like this I evened out and regained what little dignity I walked into the office with.

"Can I take a shower or something? I'm sweating more than Will." I say with a chuckle.

"Yes, that's a good idea. I'll wash your clothes for you and find you something to sleep in." Normally I'd argue about having someone else do my laundry but I was too tired to argue about anything.

I took the longest shower of my life even after the water ran cold I stayed in. After almost an hour I came out feeling like a new woman. My freshly washed clothes and a shirt of Hannibal's was waiting for me on the sink. I got around and came out.

Hannibal had prepared dinner in the meantime as well. It was some kind of salad.

"Hannibal this is too much. I don't know how I can ever repay you. I can't help but feel like a burden." I say as I sit down at the table with him.

"Stop that, you have been through quite the ordeal today. I'm happy to do what I can to relieve even the smallest amount of stress I can for you." He was having some kind of red meat I couldn't identify but it looked good.

We ate our food and chatted a bit until there was a thud in the basement yet again. I acted like I didn't hear it. I could see from the corner of my eye Hannibal was looking at me. Like he was waiting to see if I acknowledged it.

"Are you scared that man will come here?" I ask, picking at my colorful salad. Hannibal wipes his mouth with a napkin and clears his throat.

"I am worried he may try. I have no doubt it would be a grizzly encounter for you or him." He leans back in his seat as he looks at me. I snicker a little at his blind confidence in my ability to fight this man off a second time.

"Me? Oh no if I see him again I'm high tailing it. I got away once I don't need a round two."

"You maimed him which is no small feat, you are a fighter. I have no doubt you will do anything to ensure your next breath. An animal is at its most dangerous when cornered." His tone was strange. If I didn't know him I'd think he was excited by the thought.

"Is that what I am? A cornered animal?"

"You are a survivor." It was a grim conversation and he seemed to realize that but made no attempts to change the subject. "If he comes here we will lock ourselves in a room and wait for law enforcement." He says as he stands up to take his plate. "Are you finished?" He asked as he held his hand out to take my plate.

"Yeah, let me come with you." I say with a smile as I get up with my plate in tow. We went to the kitchen and cleaned off our plates. He looked down at his watch.

"Do you think you will be able to sleep tonight?" He asked, sticking the plates In the sink. A laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it.

"Probably not but I have my phone. I'll just do some reading or watch something." Hannibal didn't seem satisfied with my answer.

"I could give you something to help you sleep. A legal prescription of course."

"Oh no it sounds bad but at least if I'm awake I'll know if something is wrong. I can run or lock myself in or something."

"I have an alarm system, I also should be up late tonight. I have some work I have been neglecting. I worry that sleep deprivation will only worsen your anxiety. My professional opinion would be to take something, my personal opinion just happens to match. I have a guest bedroom with no windows, you could lock yourself in. He won't be able to reach you." Some sleep like last night's did sound nice. I was worried after the wings I wouldn't have another good night's sleep for a while.

"If you think it's best then I guess it's alright." I say still a bit unsure. He smiled and led me to this windowless room he talked about. It seemed like an interior room but I wasn't sure what rooms were around it.

"Lay down, I'll go get the medication, I should have some samples left." He left the room and I got into bed. It was impressive how every bed in this house was more comfortable than the last.

Hannibal returned with two small pills and a glass of water. He handed them to me. I looked at them for a second. Even if I asked what they were that really wouldn't tell me much, I'm not a pharmacist. I just popped them in my mouth and took a sip of water. Hannibal took the glass from me and helped me get settled in.

"Would you like the TV on?" He asked as he picked up a remote. I just nod looking up at him. The medicine seemed to be very fast acting. I felt light and sleepy already. He switched on the TV to some talk show. The volume was so low I couldn't hear it.

"Will you stay a minute?" I asked, my eyelids threatened to close while I spoke.

"Of course." He pulled an armchair over to the side of the bed. He sat with his legs crossed and his hands folded neatly on his knee. He watched me as my eyes closed slowly. He spoke again but I wasn't sure what he said. I just nodded in response. It wasn't long before I drifted to sleep.

I woke up in a much darker room. The only light came from the TV he had left on. The chair still sat next to my side of the bed. I wasn't sure what time it was and had no way of telling from inside this room. I was going to go back to sleep when I heard a mechanic whirling, some kind of power tool. It reminded me of an electric saw. The sound continued for a few more minutes before turning off.

My head was still fuzzy and my limbs felt weak but I was dying to know what that sound was. Could it be Will back? What would he be doing with power tools?

Using the armchair I helped myself up and slowly walked to the door. I jiggled the knob and fumbled with it before realizing Hannibal locked the door behind himself when he left. Feeling embarrassed I didn't figure that out sooner I turned the lock and opened the door.

I couldn't remember where this room was in his house so I carefully wandered the halls looking for the source of the sound. I found the familiar hall Will and I had slept in last night. Just before I was able to enter it I saw Hannibal coming out from his basement again. He had a phone pressed against his ear. My eyes were having problems focusing but I could have sworn he was in some kind of clear raincoat that looked to have some kind of red splattering.

"How is it going?" He asked the person on the phone. I ducked back around the corner when he turned to face my direction. "She is sleeping soundly. I am just preparing for a dinner party I have next week." He continued speaking as he walked right past me. I pressed myself against the wall to try and blend in. I was now thankful for the darkness of this part of the house.

With his back to me as he walked away I held my breath. His raincoat now in a better light I could see the red splatters had to be from blood. I needed to see what was in that basement. It all must be some kind of misunderstanding.

Once Hannibal was out of sight I creeped my way to the basement door. He hadn't locked it back. I open the door quickly and keep the light off as I walk down the stairs painstakingly slow.

It was an invasion of privacy for me to be snooping around his basement but he started it when he ran a background check on me. I was kicking myself for not bringing my phone to use as a light.

There was a soft yellow light from some kind of machine in the corner of this dank room. It was freezing down here. My bare legs had goosebumps and I was starting to shiver.

Next to the machine was a light switch. I took a chance and flipped it. An overhead fixture flooded the room with light. The machine was some kind of table saw. It was covered in what I can only assume was blood. My eyes widened. I was still under the effects of the sleeping pills so my movements were slow and I was having a hard time trusting my eyes.

I backed away and bumped into a chest freezer. Without thinking I threw the lid open and saw perfectly wrapped sections of meat. It was starting to make sense. Hannibal was just packing his own meat down here. He was probably scared I'd be disgusted if I saw all the blood and meat. Next to this freezer was an identical one. I smirked to myself and figured he'd just have more meat in this one so I opened it.

I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from screaming. There was a packaged torso of a man. It almost looked like a Halloween decoration. There were more parts under this torso. I dared to reach in. It was so cold I felt my fingertips burn when I picked up what looked like a calf. On it was a tattoo of a tiger. All the blood seemed to be drained from the parts. I dropped it quickly and closed the lids. I wasn't sure what was going on but I wasn't going to stick around to find out. I turned the light off and crawled up the stairs to ensure I didn't fall. I opened the door slowly but made the mistake of not looking behind it.

As soon as I closed the door I was grabbed from behind. They grabbed me around my waist and tried to lift me off my feet. I dropped my weight and swung an elbow back at the person. We both fell backwards onto the ground, I rolled off them quickly. It was Hannibal. I must have gotten him in the nose, it was bleeding all over his nice white shirt.

He didn't look angry, or like he even wanted to hurt me. He seemed so calm it made me pause until he tried to grab my leg. I screamed and used a doorknob to pull myself and stumbled down the hall. He followed close behind, clearly he didn't feel like he needed to rush.

"Lydia just calm down." I didn't bother responding. I wasn't sure where I was even trying to run to. I turned back around to see how close he was and he was gone. It didn't make any sense none of it. I dragged myself to a random bedroom. It must have been Hannibal's because it looked like a master bedroom complete with an ensuite bathroom. This was probably the furthest place from the front or back door.

I was screwed. I survived one killer only to be eaten by my therapist. I closed the bedroom door and looked for a spot to hide. If only Will was here. What if he knew about this?

For such a big room there weren't many places to hide. In desperation I got on the floor and hid under his bed.

No less than a minute after I found my hiding spot I saw the door open slowly. Hannibal's socked feet slowly passed the bed and opened the closet. I could see some kind of syringe in his hand. It was terrifying how little noise he made as he moved.

I covered my mouth scared he might hear me breathe. This had to be a nightmare. Maybe I was still sleeping. How could my polite, kind friend be a murder, not only a murder but a cannibal too.

Tears rolled down my face as he silently checked his room. The door was left half opened. If I was quiet and quick I might be able to slip out.

My attention was on the possible escape route when I realized Hannibal was standing right next to the bed. He slowly got down on his hands and knees and looked me right in the eye. I screamed as he grabbed my arm and pulled me from the underside of the bed. He rolled me on my back as I squirmed and kicked at him. We struggled for a moment together but he was so much stronger then he looked. He pressed his knee into my hip and held my shoulder down with one hand as he pulled the cap off of the syringe with his mouth.

"Just relax." He said before jamming the needle into my neck. I screamed out and tried to buck him off me but my mad thrashing only made his knee press harder against me. I tried to grab at the needle in my neck but he pulled it out as soon as I pushed the plunger down.

"Don't kill me Hannibal! Please!" I screamed at him as he removed his knee. I tried to get up but the world was spinning around me.

"There is nothing you can do, just lay still so you don't hurt yourself." His voice sounded so far away. He didn't look like broke a sweat fighting with me. He wasn't human he couldn't be. No human could be so calm after doing something like this.

He picked me up in his arms and leaned me against him as he rubbed with two fingers, the spot he stuck the needle in.

I could feel whatever it was he stuck me with start to make its way into my veins much quicker than before, my body was completely paralyzed. My face stuck in his shoulder I couldn't see anything and I couldn't move. My arms were folded in between us and my legs dangled, my toes brushed against the floor as he moved my face to see if I was still awake. He made a disapproving sound as he realized my eyes were still opened and I still seemed to be alert enough to look afraid. "It will be over soon, I am sorry my friend."

I could feel myself slipping slowly, my eyes softened and I could no longer feel my limp body at all. My eyes closed and I passed out.

I felt someone brush the hair from my face. I tried to open my eyes but I didn't seem to be able to yet.

"Explain it to me again. She hit you?" It was Will's voice, was it Will touching me right now?

"Yes I think she was hallucinating, perhaps it was a negative reaction to the medication I gave her. She didn't seem lucid." Hannibal said as his voice grew closer. I tried to open my mouth to scream but couldn't. Will must have noticed my twitching.

"Lydia? Are you awake?" He asked. Slowly my eyes opened. Whatever he injected me with was strong. I could hardly move. I looked around and realized I was still in Hannibal's room. Why did this psychopath put me in his bed? I whimpered out to Will as Hannibal loomed over his shoulder. He had a big bruise across his nose.

I wiggled my toes trying to get movement back. Will looked so worried and as he should there was a cannibal right behind him. I tried to speak but just a small squeak passed my lips. My head was still swimming but I wasn't going to give up. Hannibal leaned past Will and put his fingers to my neck and checked his watch.

"She's coming around, her pulse is picking up." Hannibal said. I tried to pin his fingers against my neck using my head but he just slipped his hand away. I felt like I wanted to explode. I have never experienced anything more frustrating.

"Take it slow. Hannibal had to give you some major sedatives."

"No!" I choked out as I stared daggers at Hannibal. I was getting my functions back. He was done for. I'd get Will to check his basement and he'd see for himself. "Basement, Will." I said slowly, still staring down Hannibal who looked as calm as always. Will shook his head.

"It's alright Hannibal already told me what happened, do you remember?" Will asked, I shook my head up and down.

"He's not mad at you, it's okay." I looked at Will quickly realizing Will didn't understand. I tried to push myself up on my elbows.

"He eats… people, Will. Look… at basement." I panted out. Will chuckled a little bit and nodded.

"Of course he does. Why don't you rest a bit more than we can talk." He said as he tried to push me back down to lay flat. He thought I was still delirious.

"I think I understand what happened here." Hannibal said as he sat down on the other side of his bed. "She must have gotten down in my basement. I was cutting up some venison earlier." Hannibal looked down at me and pulled the covers up around me more. Will sighs and nods.

"No, there… was a human body, a torso, a-and… more um parts. Take me to the basement… I'll show you." I was getting riled up. Thankfully I was starting to come around more. It became less hard to think of the right words I needed to use. Will looked at Hannibal who didn't seem worried.

"She will have to be carried, I'm afraid it's a bit of a mess down there but I'm willing to endure any embarrassment to prove my innocence, agents. " He says with a slight air of a joke.

Will carried me down the stairs. The basement looked just as I left it. Hannibal had to be crazy he was so close to being caught by two federal agents and he didn't seem to care.

"There, the one closest to the wall." I said pointing to the freezer. Will nodded and tried to set me on my feet so he could check. Hannibal tried to reach over to steady me but I felt safer leaning against the table saw.

Will opened the freezer and reached in to pull out some wrapped meat.

"This is definitely just deer Lydia." He said as dug to the bottom and pulled out more of the same looking meat.

"Show her the other one, so she isn't frightened of me. It should be pork. Perhaps that is what you saw, Lydia. Hannibal said as he moved a bit closer to me. I used the machine to keep upright while I made my way to the wall to lean against.

Will opened the other freezer and pulled out just what Hannibal had said. Pig and lots of it. These were full parts of legs with hooves and even a pig head. All sealed in airtight plastic wrap.

"No no he did something. He moved the body. There was a tattoo I saw it!" I yelled. My hand slipped from the wall, Hannibal grabbed me before I could fall. "Get off me!" I screamed as he used his body to hold me up. I was still so dizzy and weak. I was having a hard time keeping track of stuff. Will pulled out a package that seemed to hold a hind leg of a pig. On it was a serial number of some kind. I froze looking at it.

"Was this the tattoo you saw?" Will asked as he brought it over so I could get a better look. I started to feel embarrassed, could I have really made such a big mistake. I looked up at Hannibal and his poor nose. Maybe something was wrong with me.

"Hannibal I- it seemed so-"

"It's okay Lydia, this was my fault. I shouldn't have given you medication you had never taken before. I believe you had a bad reaction to it." Hannibal said, still holding onto me. I felt like I was going crazy.

"Hannibal your nose…" I whimper out feeling horrible I hit him so hard.

"No, this was my fault as well. I shouldn't have tried to restrain you. Now let's get you out of this basement."

This time Hannibal picked me up to carry me up the stairs. I think even Will was surprised by his strength. I laid my chin on his shoulder and looked back at Will. He didn't seem to notice my staring. He looked almost guilty, he looked down right remorseful. What could he be feeling so guilty over?

Hannibal took me back to his room and laid me down. I look around and realize the bedroom itself seemed a little different. Furniture moved around and the walls even looked to be a different shade.

"Is this your room?" I ask as he tucked me in. Will sat down on the edge of the bed. He was never more than a few feet away.

"Yes I was worried about moving you too much, you had such a bad reaction to the sleeping pill I didn't want to risk moving you to another room while sedated."

"I'm feeling much better now, you can have your bed back. I don't know if I can sleep anyhow." I say as I try to take the blankets off myself. I really was feeling much stronger just from the time we left the basement.

"No, please stay there. The medication likely has not left your system and we don't need you wondering the hall confused again. I am going to your house to retrieve some clothes. Will is going to stay with you. Is there anything from your house you want?" Hannibal said as he and Will both pulled the covers back on me.

"No not that I can think of but can you ask Zeller if they are done with that iron pan? It belongs to my landlady. She's going to be asking for it back, oh and can you stop by and tell her I'm okay?" Will fussed around me for a second as he messed with the pillows and lamps on the bedside tables.

"I will talk to her." Hannibal said as he pulled a jacket out from his closet. He really was too good to me. He lets me stay at his house and feeds me and I repay with an elbow to the nose. I don't know if I will ever not feel bad about that.

Hannibal left and Will took off his shoes and glasses after making sure all the windows in the room were locked.

"I wasn't lying, I really don't think I can sleep, Will." He gets on the other side of the bed and scoots close to me.

"Well I haven't slept all night and could use a few hours. I think Hannibal would actually kill and cook us both if I let you wander the house so please just try and sleep."

"Will, it's not funny. I really thought he was a killer cannibal. It was terrifying. Not to mention I hurt him." I say as I turn on my side to face him. He gave me a half hearted smile.

"I know, I'm really sorry." He says as his smile leaves. Something about it struck me as odd. I knew something wasn't right. The guilty look on his face, the way he just apologized, it was too sincere sounding for an apology for a dumb joke.

I wanted to talk to him more but he was out like a light, softly snoring next to me. I made sure he was covered up before I let myself try and sleep again. It took some time but eventually his soft breathing lulled me to sleep.

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #jack crawford #beverly katz #nbc hannibal #nbc hannigram #yandere hannibal #dark fanfiction #oc stuff

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