#caregiver hannibal lecter

[dingleshartbeaufoy]

— little will + margot / cg hannibal + alana mood boards ミ★

🫀 some headcanons: 🫀

☆ wills special interests are dogs and fish .. he likes going to dog parks and going to lakes and rivers!

☆ music and art ground margot. she likes to color while alana works, or rest her head on her lap while they listen to music

☆ will and margot have play dates! at first they didn’t socialize together and kept to themselves, doing their own thing… until they realized they can do their own thing, together! they love parallel play while alana and hannibal discuss various topics

☆ wills love of dogs rubs off on margot. he gifts her one of his stuffies and she’s ecstatic

☆ she promised she wouldn’t let it get too bad… but eventually alana’s entire fridge was plastered with margot’s drawings

☆ will and margot melt down very differently. will starts to panic, squirm, hit himself. margot shuts down entirely and is silent and unresponsive

☆ margot was feeling out of sorts and it was getting harder for her to slip. alana made her a nursery that’s soft and dark so she can feel safe <3

☆ hannibal reads to will, takes him to operas, etc to “enrich his mind”

☆ will becomes overwhelmed with the decisions he has to make while he’s big. he lets hannibal choose how he dresses, and hannibal is very careful to choose sizes and materials that are soft but breathable so he doesn’t panic

☆ they’re all autistic. all of em. all four of em one two three four. boom. autistic.

☆ alana often worries she is not providing enough for margot, since she doesn’t entirely understand regression. she was surprised to learn hannibal shared these worries and the two were able to connect over it!

☆ will and margot nap together. anywhere. couch floor bed table separately or sprawled out on top of each other. honk shoo

☆ margot often dresses very exquisitely but when she’s in littlespace she doesn’t want to worry about that! she wears simple t shirts and shorts/skirts, since they’re casual and simple :)

☆ will needs to be alone sometimes. he’ll wander off to do his own thing on his own, and hannibal trusts him to keep safe. alternatively, margot HATES being alone. can’t stand her own solitude

much love 🫀

[your-fellow-writer-of-the-night]

Regressor Will Graham moodboard

(and caregiver Hannibal)

🐾 Sleepy, dog lover kiddo 🐾

[littlespacereader]

Merry Christmas!!❤️💚🎄

I absolutely love anytime they would show Will’s house surrounded by snow and his dogs running around and having fun in Hannibal. I think it’s absolutely adorable! So I wanted to create a fic around it. A cute little fluffy fic with some winter fun without any mention of a holiday or anything. Just the three playing in the snow. Trigger warning there is a mention of death relating to Hannibal’s family and sister but that’s as far as it goes. So with that please enjoy!!!😄❄️☃️

Winter in Wolf Trap☃️❄️

Caregiver!Will Graham, Caregiver!Hannibal Lecter & GN Little!Reader (SFW)

Tags - playing in the snow, snow angels, building a snowman, snowball fight, cuddles, healing past loss

(Hannibal is not a cannibal, no violence in this fic, small mention of death)

Nicknames - little one, Papa for Hannibal, Dadee for Will, darling, sweet one, Angel

Winter came late in Virginia. But when it did arrive, it brought a blizzard with plenty of snow.

Y/N sat by the window all night long, watching as the snow continued to fall from the sky. They couldn’t wait, because come tomorrow they were going to have a snow day with the dogs.

“Can we go outside now?” Y/N asked, tilting their head back to Hannibal and Will who sat peacefully on the couch.

“You see how windy it is outside? It would be dangerous to go out in that weather.” Will gestured them over, “It will be all over tomorrow and then we can play. You just have to wait.”

Y/N threw their head back with a whine but walked over to the couch regardless. They squished themselves between the two Caregivers, cuddling into them.

The three spend the rest of the evening watching a movie infront of the fireplace. All the dogs sound asleep at their feet, the fire lack cracking in the background and the movie playing low on the tv because a certain little one fell asleep half way through.

“I think we should call it a night for us,” Hannibal whispered to Will with a little smirk.

Y/N’s head rested peacefully on his shoulder, thumb in mouth and stuffie wrapped in their arms. They looked so peaceful, he almost didn’t want to disturb them. But it was late and a couch was no place for the three of them to sleep.

So Hannibal carefully and delicately lifted Y/N from the couch and over to their bed, which in Will’s house was right next to the living room. Convenient. Then soon after the two caregiver climb into bed and all snuggled together under the warm covers.

~~~

Morning arrived and with it a beautiful winter wonderland outside. It was untouched beauty! Snow blanketed everything in sight.

Y/N couldn’t wait to go outside. They whined when the dogs were allowed outside and they weren’t.

“First we’ll have breakfast then we’ll go outside and play.“

“Ughhhhhhhaaaaa!!!” Y/N dramatically exclaimed, throwing their head back.

Will and Hannibal shared a look but didn’t comment on it further. Their little one was a bit dramatic but then again, sometimes they were too.

“Come now, you’ll need to get some energy before you go out to play.” Hannibal winked, taking their hand and leading them to the kitchen.

Breakfast went on for farrrrrr toooooooo loooooonnnnngggg. Or at least it felt that way to Y/N who rushed to each all their food in record time and now had to wait for their Caregivers to finish up.

After years of eating breakfast, the three were ready to go outside to play in the snow. Y/N ran as fast as they could to the front door. They were a step away from swinging the door open and running outside when Will called out.

“Y/N,”

They turned around to see Will with a smirk on his face. He couldn’t be mad or stern when his little one was so excited.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He continued with a nod to the coat rack.

“Ohhhhhhh,” they realized, “Papa and Dadee help?”

Will and Hannibal were happy to help their little one get ready for the chilly weather outside. They sat on the bench as Will helped them into some snow boots. Then Hannibal helped them with their hat and gloves. Finally they both helped put their winter coat on.

Once finished they turned to the two, “Thank you!”

“You’re all set to go outside Darling.”

Y/N turned to go run outside but they paused at the door. They turned around to see Hannibal and Will gathering their winter gear for themselves.

“No,” they said as they walked back over to the two Caregivers. “I wanna stay wit you.”

Hannibal and Will shared a smile, “Thank you sweet one. Dade and I will only be a moment.” Hannibal winked.

And they were only just a moment. Both putting on a pair of gloves and hats before dawning their winter coats as well.

Then they finally joined the dogs outside into the cold weather! It looked like a winter wonderland! Beautiful fresh and crunchy snow perfect for a snow day!

They started the day off by making a snowman. Hannibal helped Y/N roll balls of snow around the yard until they had the best looking snowman. With a borrowed hat from his wardrobe and a carrot from the kitchen, Frosty was all put together in the front yard.

“Papa look! He’s perfect!”

“He looks wonderful! You did a great job building him.” Hannibal praised.

“You think he’s going to come to life?”

“Of course,” Hannibal said with such confidence, “But he can’t while we’re around. He must do it while we’re asleep at night.” He winked.

That clicked in with Y/N’s brain getting a long “Ohhhhhhhh.” From them in realization

Next was making snow angels which Will was proud to help with. The two laid on the snow next to one another.

“So you’re going to move your arms up like this,” he lifted his arms up moving the snow. “Then down to your hips like this.” He gestured again.

“Then at the same time you’re going to move your legs left to right just like this.” He demonstrated.

Y/N watched carefully before laying in the snow and copying off Will. They started to giggle, moving the snow with their legs and arms.

Will helped them off the ground then the two admired their work.

“An Angel for my Angel.” He smiled, kissing the top of their hat. They couldn’t help but giggle and hug Will back.

“Thank you for teaching me.” They said squished in the hug.

“Of course Angel. I didn’t know you were a snow Angel pro.” Will smiled.

After that the Caregivers took a break and let their little one run around the yard with the dog for a bit. Will joined Hannibal who was sitting on the front steps of the house.

“Next week we should take them to the city park and take them ice skating.” Will suggested as he sat.

Hannibal handed him a cup of coffee to warm up. “Do you know how to ice skate?” He smirked.

“Do you?” Will smirked back.

“I guess it will be a learning experience for the three of us.” The two chuckled.

The two smiled and watched as Y/N ran around the yard with the dogs. Throwing a stick for them, petting them and running around like crazy with them. The dogs loved every second.

“It’s wonderful to see them enjoying the winter. The two of you make the season worth enjoying.” Hannibal said after a moment.

Will nodded taking a sip of his coffee. He knew what he meant saying that. Will knew Hannibal’s past and the losses he’s endured. He’s the only one left in his family, the last one to die being his sister in the winter time.

Ever since then the winter season didn’t have the same blissful and beautiful energy it used to, until Y/N and Will entered his life.

“It’s not about forgetting the terrible memories,” Will started to say, “It’s about making new memories that you remember the winter for. New memories to look back on and remember with a fondness for the season.” Will smiled.

Hannibal smiled as well and nodded. He took Will’s hand in his. The two putting their coffee cups down. “I have been and forever will be so grateful to have you and Y/N in my life. You both bring me an unmatched happiness I haven’t felt in years.”

“Well, it’s nothing really.” Will joked with his classic sly smirk to Hannibal.

The two leaned in to share a kiss with one another. But just as they were about an inch for the other lips…

BAM!

They both got a face full of snow. The both paused for a moment trying to piece together why their faces were covered in snow. But it didn’t take them too long to realize the culprit.

They both turned their heads towards the giggling in the distance. There, standing facing them stood Y/N with a snow ball in hand. They could stop laughing at their Caregivers whose faces looked like Frosty.

“I was aiming for Dadee but got both of you instead.” They giggled.

The two wiped the snow from their faces and gave each other a look, a look that said everything they needed to say. Then they looked back at Y/N who had a feeling they knew what was happening next.

They dropped the snow ball and took off running with Hannibal and Will in full pursuit. With laughter filling the air.

[littlepupkit]

Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham as CGs headcanons

Note!: In these headcanons Will and Hannibal are a couple

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

🦌𓆝🌲𓆝🦌𓆝🌲𓆝 🦌𓆟 🌲𓆞 🦌𓆝 🌲𓆝🦌

Will takes you on little fishing trips, and most of the time Hannibal will tag along (the trips aren’t as long as they usually are when he goes by himself though because he doesn’t want his little to get too antsy of course).

Hannibal loves to cook for you, he’ll even go out of his way to arrange or cut the food to look like animals or cute things he’ll know you’ll like. And if you’re a picky eater- no problem, he’ll ask you what foods you like and what foods you have trouble eating and make note.

Hannibal will let you help him in small ways as he cooks. He doesn’t let you touch anything sharp and keeps anything he feels unsafe out of your reach, but he will let you mix things and pour ingredients into bowls as much as you’d like though!

You all take walks together pretty often, Hannibal and Will holding the leashes of Will’s bigger dogs while they leave you in charge of Will’s smallest.

Will will play with stuffies with you, voices and all. You two will be giggling and laughing so loud that Hannibal will walk in the room to see what’s going on. Will gets noticeably a little embarrassed and will say playtime is over for now - but when you look at him with your best puppy dog eyes he will cave and continue playing with you, much to Hannibal’s delight as well.

Hannibal loves to give you gifts. He’ll come home with little things like pacis, clothes, or stuffies to surprise you with occasionally and if you are out together and see something you like he’ll waste no time putting it in the cart. He loves spoiling you, he can recognize his habit but has no intention of changing it.

Will can tell when you’re upset and will do his best to comfort you and make you feel safe and cared for. He’ll ask what’s wrong, but if he notices that talking about it may overwhelm you he’ll try to calm you down a bit and will softly hold you in his warm arms and whisper that it’s going to be okay. When you do open up about what’s wrong, Hannibal will stroke your hair and offer words to help you understand your feelings better and potential solutions.

At bedtime they will make sure you get into your pajamas and let you pick out a stuffie to sleep with for the night . If you aren’t tired yet Hannibal will read to you while Will rocks you in his arms (though sometimes Will gets too relaxed listening to Hannibal’s calming voice too and falls asleep before you do).

When the three of you get into bed you usually end up falling asleep between the two, Will on one side with his arms wrapped around you with his head nuzzled against your cheek, and Hannibal on the other with his head resting on top of yours and his arm over you and Will.

Both Will and Hannibal share the love language of physical affection, one of them will always be holding your hand, holding you in their arms, kissing your head and cheeks, rocking you, cupping your face, etc.

These men love you so much, these absolute dads are unmatched.

🦌𓆝🌲𓆝🦌𓆝🌲𓆝 🦌𓆟 🌲𓆞 🦌𓆝 🌲𓆝🦌

[littlespace-imagines]

Could you do headcanons or a scenario with Daddy! Hannibal Lecter? Please and thank you! 😊

This is written so it could go for either Hannibal

Pairing: CG!Hannibal x Little!reader

Contains: GN!Reader, honorific (Daddy) used, CG/L dynamics, Littlespace, established relationship

Hannibal is a fantastic caregiver, very hands on and prideful

Being his little one means you’re always on your best behavior.

He is a stickler for manners tbh like straight up will make you right lines because you forgot to say please.

He doesn’t get angry, just simply tells you it was a wrong thing to do and he thinks 20 lines written in neat cursive will make you remember better.

You’re also dressed in the most adorable little outfits, things with comfy and colorful prints.

Hannibal also loooves spoiling his little one with any and everything tbh.

You wanted ice cream? He will take you to get the biggest size.

Hannibal also will not respond to you unless you call him daddy (in private or only when you’re little not 24/7 unless it’s a established part of your dynamic)

But he adores it when you call him that, his heart melts and he just wants to hold you close and give you the world.

He also will absolutely play with you.

He loves to color with you surprisingly, he always seems like the kinda guy who can’t be silly but sometimes he can.

[hanniballecterslover]

Hello! I love your blog. Could you do head cannons or a mood-board for cg Hannibal?

Thank you anon! Of course! I can do both!

Caregiver! Hannibal Lecter moodboard + headcanons!

🐑 Hannibal is probably very strict on rules as a CG, he has the disapproving dad look down perfectly I’m sure.

🐑 He dislikes mess and teaches you to clean up after yourself. If you play outside, he will pick you up and carry you through the house to put you straight into the bath. He loves bath time, getting to pamper his little baby is his favourite thing!

🐑 Is a huge gift giver, loves spoiling his baby! Will bring home little surprises all the time and adores seeing the excited look on his baby’s face.

🐑 Believes in the importance of healthy eating and insists you eat your veggies! But if you really don’t like them he won’t force you to eat them, simply try to find another healthy alternative! He also isn’t keen on giving sweets or overly sugary desserts out of concern for your teeth, but will allow them as treats or if you are particularly upset!

🐑 Enjoys presenting food in silly, child-like ways such as different animals, scenes, characters, etc!

🐑 Will display all of your art. He’s very proud of his baby!!

🐑 Very big on using petnames. Some of his favourites include: darling, dear, little fawn/lamb, sweet boy/girl/baby and sweetheart. He loves reaffirming how tiny his baby is by using “little” or “tiny” before a name!

That’s all! I hope this is satisfactory <3 I may do some more headcanons for CG! Hannibal soon, we’ll see!

My requests are currently open! Feel free to take a look at my fandoms and request moodboards, headcanons, etc. for characters from the listed fandoms!

[agerefandom]

not a request but question..saw you were against Content Police and was wondering if you allow proship requests (agere related for when your asks are open again ofcc)

Combining these asks to minimize the shipcourse mentions on this blog, but also thank you for both of the asks!!!

In response to the question, I will gently reinforce that the label 'proship' is a belief about fiction, and not a specific genre of content. Even if it was a genre, I've seen a massive range in what would fall under that terminology (for example, self-identified antis who run Hannibal blogs).

I originally decided to put antis on my DNI when I posted some imagines for caregiver!Gaston, from Beauty and the Beast.

In these headcanons, I did include some caregiver dynamics that are little nods to his canon tendency to try and control the people around him, and how those toxic traits might reflect in his behaviour as a caregiver.

In my opinion, it's very important when you read villain imagines to remember that it's okay to fantasize about caregivers who take away your control and agency to make you feel small and cozy and protected, but it's a big red flag and completely unacceptable if a caregiver ever does that without your explicit permission and expressing that it's something you want from them!!!

So the answer is that yes, I will write some stories that reflect dynamics that I don't want people to think are healthy IRL: for example, anything with Hannibal Lecter, or Elias Bouchard. I will occasionally write about manipulation and control and helplessness, and I will do my very best to tag those dynamics so that people can avoid them if they so wish. (ie. my Alois and Claude fic)

I don't write explicit content or very much romantic shipping content, so I don't think that the most traditional 'proship' associated things are a risk/relevant discussion for this blog. But I do sometimes write about unhealthy relationships (ie. Rick and Morty are an abusive familial relationship, but I might write about how Morty feels complicated love and dependence towards Rick). Again, all of this material will be tagged, and I think I heavily lean towards the more fluffy kinds of dynamics.

As my rule has always been, you can request anything SFW you'd like when requests are open, and I'll make my decisions about what I'm comfortable writing! I turn down requests for many reasons, but I try to never be judgmental or rude about it.

[eggcompany]

Hannibal is such a daddy Part 1

Doctor Hannibal Lecter is a daddy and everyone knows it. Everyone knows he is the most perfect caregiver but he has no littles of his own. But what happens when he learns Will Graham is a Little?

No one knew Will was a little. Everyone knew Hannibal was a daddy though. Everyone wanted Hannibal to be their daddy. He was brilliant, strong, handsome, and had a big house and a big nest. But no one ever saw a nursery . Or a nursing room. Or a little. 

Hannibal was known for his dinner parties. He was known to invite not only caregivers and minx (people who are neither caregivers or little) but also littles. He usually had large dinner parties where he would cook perfectly adult meals for his big guests and then in the side room that had no sharp or hard things that the small ones could get hurt on, he would serve his little meals. 

He would usually stay with the littles while everyone else ate. He would wash their faces and hands. He would help them eat and throw their trash away. He would change their diapers and put them down for naps. He would leave and serve the next course to the adults and go straight back to the littles. Usually one or two other caregivers but Hannibal never asked anyone to help. 

Everyone knew Dr. Hannibal Lecter was a daddy. But no one knew Will Graham was a little. 

No one could look around his house and know he’s a little. He had no soft colored walls or snuggly blankets or dvd collection of cartoons and Disney movies. He didn’t have a crib or sippy cups or binkies or diapers or a rocking chair. You could search his house and the only thing that might point towards him being a little is his one pair of fuzzy snuggly socks. And those were plain black. 

That was until he had met Hannibal. And Hannibal came to his house. 

“Will you have such a... are you a minx?” Hannibal said as he looked around Will’s very plain home. Will had invited Hannibal over to help on a case. 

Will just looked at Hannibal from the kitchen where he was getting them both glasses of water. Or rather cups of water since Will didn’t drink out of glass. 

“No I’m not a minx. The files on the table. There’s pictures just spread out.” Will said as he showed Hannibal to his dinner table. 

“Oh! You’re not a minx? I didn’t take you for a caregiver. Well perhaps to your dogs! They look so healthy and playful.” Hannibal said conversationally. He knew Will might just be an ace caregiver. Someone who doesn’t care for relationships but has caregiver instincts. 

“I’m not a caregiver, I just like dogs.” Will said plainly. As if he just said he had on blue socks. 

Hannibal froze. Not a minx. Not a caregiver. That meant. No it can’t be. 

“You’re a little? But you live alone and you have no. You have nothing!” Hannibal said in a fit. If Will was a little why did he not have any color of little things. Hannibal thought maybe he hid it all. 

Will sighed loudly. He knew he shouldn’t have told. Will had had a caregiver before. When he was just old enough to leave his family. She was nice and cared about his health. But she was vain and didn’t like the way he looked. She wanted to always have him waxed and when they bonded to have his body hair laser removed. He used to get in trouble for not having his everything shaved or waxed. So when she left him because he wanted his beard, he never tried to get another. 

“Yes Hannibal, I’m a little. No, I don’t have anything. I don’t really, uh,  I don’t really regress all that often. And when I do I’m not all that little.” Will tried to sound uninterested but failed. He just sounded sad. 

When he really let go he was tiny. Practically an infant. Most littles were toddler age. Dependent but not completely. Will expected Hannibal to drop it and assume, just like Jack, that he could care for himself. What he didn’t expect was- 

“Oh we’ll go ahead I’ll just be going over the case. I have a little bag in my car, would you like if I brought it for you?” Hannibal said cheerily. He just loved caring for littles. Especially if that little was Will. Hannibal already had a soft spot for the shorter man. Will looked shocked for a moment. 

“You don’t- you don’t have to put up with me right now. It’s okay you don’t need to do anything I’m just. I’m capable.” Will tried to get together a congruent thought. 

Hannibal was already walking back towards the door. He stopped and slipped off his jacket at the door. 

“Nonsense Will. I’m here, the dogs are all here, you can relax. I’ll take care of everything.” And Hannibal stepped out the door. Will stood in shock. Hannibal always acted like this. Did what he wanted. But this was different. 

No one ever did that. Just cared. Will was a capable FBI agent and teacher. He wasn’t helpless. Maybe he was. Maybe he was just helpless to Hannibal.

Will contemplated letting the doctor actually know how small he got when he regressed. It wouldn't hurt to let the doctor know… Hannibal loved littles. All littles. Will isn’t special, he’s just another little doll to feed Hannibal’s caregiving needs. 

Hannibal returned with a blue duffel bag in tow. He smiled and walked past Will to the couch. 

“Here we go! It’s just a small kind of emergency bag, but it will serve its purpose. Do you want a sippy or a blanket? Do you have wifi? I could hook up my laptop and you could watch some cartoons.” Hannibal said in a lighthearted happy way. Will just stood still and overwhelmed at the soft colorful items Hannibal pulled from the bag. Hannibal turned and saw the special agent clenching his fists and breathing quicker than he should be and came to his side. 

“Will, are you alright? Did I overwhelm you? I’m so sorry, I just got excited. I should have stayed calmer. I’m sor-” He was cut off by a low whine. 

“‘M too small for that. I’m um I’m not like most littles, Hannibal. I get too small. Now please just… just look at the damn case files.” Will said and tried to keep the tears from rolling down his face but failed miserably. Hannibal nodded and rubbed Will’s shoulder as he turned to the gorish photographs. 

Will stayed still for a few minutes before venturing a few steps closer to the white blanket that had been placed on the arm of his couch. He ran the very tips of his fingers over it, feeling the amazingly soft fabric. He looked back at Hannibal who was looking at the case files. 

Will looked at the blue sippy cup for a moment before leaning and looked down into the bag. There were diapers, pacifiers, wet wipes, and rolled up changing mats. There were snacks and water as well. He then spotted what looked like the lag of a stuffed animal. Maybe a bear or a dog. Will felt more adventurous, he was slipping, if only a bit but he was slipping just seeing the supplies. 

Will moved the pack of wet wipes over to see the stuffed animal more clearly. It was a dog. A light brown one with dark brown spots. It was made from what felt like thick flannel material and had plain black eyes and a black nose that was embroidered on. ‘This is a baby toy’ flashed through Will’s mind as he picked up the doggy. The thought was washed away by the thoughts of snuggling the small toy while he slept. Will held the dog up to his chest and petted it. He was slipping further. 

“Do you like it?” Hannibal said from the arm of the couch. Will hadn’t even noticed him in his fogged headspace. Will nodded his head and brought the toy up to his face to rub his scruffy cheek against it. Hannibal smiled and moved slowly as he dragged his bag closer to him. 

“Maybe he can sleep over here tonight. Do you want the doggy to sleep over tonight?” Hannibal said in a soft voice and looked at Will’s eyes. Will smiled and his eyes flashed up to the older man’s. Will bounced a little bit on the balls of his feet. 

“Yes pwease! I um… I wike da doggy. Hims so soft.” Will said as he rubbed the stuffed animal across his lips and nose. Will was swaying slightly. He usually didn’t walk all that much when he was little. Hannibal noticed and put his hand on Will’s upper arm. He pushed slightly, guiding the wobbly man to sit on the couch. Will happily held the toy close to his face as he plopped down onto the couch and smiled. Will chewed on his bottom lip slightly. 

“Yeah, he is soft. I saw you touching the blankie too. Do you want that too? You can have anything you want.” Hannibal said as he held the blanket and duffel bag toward the little. Will had started rubbing the toy against his lips more, almost mouthing at the dark brown ear. 

Will took a deep breath. It had been so long, too long, since he let himself relax. Since anyone had wanted to take care of him. He felt his eyes wet and just didn’t have the power to pull himself out, to make himself big. The tears started slow but after a few seconds Will was a sobbing puddle on the couch holding onto the doggy toy. 

Hannibal hurriedly sat down next to the younger man and pulled him close so the outsides of their thighs were squeezed together. Will turned and pressed his face into the expensive fabric of Hannibal’s dress shirt. Hannibal shushed and moved so Will could scoot closer to him and Hannibal could rub at the little’s back. 

“Oh Will… I know a deprived baby when I see one. Come on, let's get you all comfy. Poor baby…” Hannibal said and rocked side to side while Will started to calm a bit. When Hannibal pulled back and saw Will’s snotty tear covered face his caregiver instincts took over and his heart broke for the poor boy. 

Will pouted and sniffled and held his stuffed animal close to his chest while Hannibal reached over and grabbed the bag and blanket. Hannibal took a tissue out from a side pocket of the bag and wiped away at Will’s face. Will sat still and looked at Hannibal with big round dazed eyes. 

“You do too much Will. Too much for Jack, too much big stuff. You live in this big house with no supplies. I can’t believe it. After we have a big chat I can take you home and really take care of you.” Hannibal muttered, really more to himself than the special agent. He watched Will melt further into headspace, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes closed a bit tiredly, and he brought the doggy up to his lips again and mouth lightly at the ear. Hannibal cleaned his face with a wet wipe and dried his face with another tissue. 

“Will, baby, do you want to change? You don’t need these icky clothes on if you don’t want them. How small are you?” Hannibal asked and slipped off the couch to kneel in front of Will on the floor. Will just shifted around and looked at him with an uncomfortable look on his face. Hannibal nodded. Too small to talk. Diaper, Dummy, and  some cuddles. Thought the caregiver as he studied the boy for a moment. Will was fidgeting his toes against each other and chewing on the soft ear of the dog and drooling a bit. 

“‘lil. ‘ungry.” Will muttered, his mouth not leaving the soft fabric. Hannibal smiled. So cute! Hannibal rubbed Will’s knees and stood up. 

“Okay then Will! How about you go through that bag and you put everything you want right here.” Hannibal explained slowly and simply. He pointed and patted the cushion opposite to the duffel. Will nodded and his hands went to the duffle bag, doggy left to fall into his lap. Hannibal smiled. “I will go make you up a bottle. I can feed you while you watch some cartoons. Stay here and pick out what you want, baby.” Hannibal finished by fluffing up Will’s hair. Will made a happy little noise before shifting through the bag. 

Hannibal grabbed up a blue baby bottle, which was much larger than an actual baby’s bottle since it was made for littles, and made his way to the meager kitchen. He shook his head at the nearly empty fridge and scarce cupboards. The little had more dog food than human food. Hannibal eventually found a can of sweetened condensed milk in what looked to be an emergency cupboard. Hannibal made quick work of mixing the sweet syrupy liquid into the bottle alongside the almost expired milk he had found in the fridge. Will certainly needed the extra calories and would most likely not mind the extra sweetness. 

While Hannibal whipped up a bottle Will happily pulled all sorts of things out of the duffel bag. He smiled as he pulled out diapers and pacifiers and pulled the blankie into his lap. He dug around until he found a pair of thick fuzzy socks. Will then picked up his doggy and put it’s ear back in his mouth and wiggled his feet around some. He was small, smaller than he had been in months, years probably, but he wasn’t fully there. He was still fighting it, forcing himself to move his hands and feet and keep his motor function up. 

But the moment Hannibal came over to him flipping a bottle full of milk, he slipped. His fingers felt all gummy and loose, his tongue felt big in his mouth, and his body felt wiggly and soft. Hannibal noticed and smiled as he sat on the edge of the small couch and put the duffel bag on the floor. 

“Do you want to come sit in my lap? Want me to hold you?” Hannibal asked but Will was already struggling to wiggle over to the older man. Hannibal helped him by dragging him up to sit across his thighs and rest his back against the arm of the couch. Will smiled and thunked his head against Hannibal's solid chest. 

“Open up darling. It’s sweet, you’ll like it.” Hannibal said and Will latched onto the nipple of the bottle and sucked down the sweet milk enthusiastically. 

Hannibal smiled and felt calm. These moments always calmed him, stroked that caring need in his chest. But now was different. With Will it was always different no matter what ‘it’ was. Hannibal never felt that urge to really feel the babies though. That need to feel their heart beats, their breaths, their skin. But right now, Will in his lap getting healthy and safe off of Hannibal’s efforts, the psychiatrist felt that urge. He used the hand that wasn’t helping the baby hold onto the bottle to rub up at the artery in Will’s neck. Hannibal breathed in and out alongside Will for a moment as he counted each thump of his heart. 

When Will finished the bottle he slumped against Hannibal's chest. Which would have helped calm that urge Hannibal felt in his chest if not for the goddamned layers between them. The caregiver decided that there needed to be many less layers between them. 

“Here you sit right here for a moment. Let’s get this off of you…” Hannibal said as he slid Will off of him and to the side and slipped his flannel off once he unbuttoned it a few leaving him bare chested. Hannibal then unbuttoned his vest and undid his tie, leaving him in a plain dress shirt. Hannibal also shifted his hips up to slip his belt off. He folded up the clothes and up them on the coffee table. 

Will whined and chewed on the stuffed animal again. Hannibal smiled and hauled the baby back into his lap. Feeling his skin and seeing his chest rise and fall made Hannibal feel more satisfied with each intake. Hannibal grabbed the blanket, socks, and pacifier over to them. He pulled the fabric away from Will’s lips. 

“Here we go baby… Suck on this and I’ll put on your cozy socks. Then you can take a nice nap. I see how sleepy you are. You poor little thing, poor baby.” Hannibal mumbled as he pulled Will’s feet up and slipped the socks on and unrolled the soft blanket. 

Hannibal laid back and Will nuzzled a bit into his chest, relishing in the warmth that seeped into his bare skin. Soon Hannibal felt Will’s breathing slow and even. Soon enough Hannibal decided Will would be coming to his home more frequently. How could he not have noticed this perfect baby hiding away for so long...

Next Chapter ->

[dingleshartbeaufoy]

— 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

[masterlist]

hannibal lecter x will graham

rated t - 4k words

tags - au, age-re, developing relationship, hannibal loves will, little will, cg hannibal, bathtime

warnings - none!

— will slips into an unfamiliar mindset. he knows nothing except for how bad he needs hannibal, and how bad he fucking loves forests.

(pls read on ao3 if possible 🫀)

[banner by reveriesources]

Will Graham did not grow up in Michigan.

Not like that was any sort of consensus or widely held belief, though, because it wasn’t. Many times, the subject of Will’s origins either sparked passionate debates, or merely circulated as rumors. A woman from the intelligence branch vehemently asserted that his accent was distinctly ubiquitous; thus, he grew up across several states and developed the default American lilt. A man from the services branch said he carried himself in such a way that connoted what he dubbed as white-trash DNA (even though Will swore to God he heard that line used in Joe Dirt). Clad in thrift store aesthetics, with fishing as his sole hobby, he surely came from a state with far different culture than Virginia.

Curiously, nobody ever bothered to ask, which was the remarkable thing. They figured Will wouldn’t tell them if they tried, and they were right. He absolutely would not. The matter of his background was entirely too intimate and entirely too personal. He might as well tell them his exact address and then paint targets on his vital organs.

For the record, though, he did not grow up in Michigan, New York, or Idaho. His formative years were spent in many places but he was born in and spent the bulk of his childhood in the backwoods of Louisiana, with the snakes and ‘gators and muskrats and loblolly pines that made bushes in Heaven (as his father used to say).

He lived in a ramshackle shack in Hammond with his father and the few friends he made at school (those friends being the only friends he’d make across all schools he would ever attend. He left his social life sitting in the boatyards somewhere in Wisconsin). He got to school by seven in the morning, and class started at eight. There were three classrooms, one for ‘stories’, one for ‘letters’, and one for ‘numbers’, which was their equivalent of history, English, and mathematics. Will was what they would consider a sufficiently educated student. He could read Oliver Twist sooner than any of his classmates could, but he couldn’t socialize as well, couldn’t play rugby or kiss a girl (or a boy, for that matter).

After one lethargic and muggy night, hotwiring cars and chugging beer, he had retreated to the sticks behind his house to decompress, a moment of sheer desperation and experimentation. He found it was the last place he’d ever felt he belonged in.

It didn’t take him long to teach himself the names and classifications of all the remarkable flora and fauna of the bayou, but that was before he went into criminal science. Crawfish, bluegill, the elusive nutria, and the stately American alligator all became members of his zoological repertoire. The blue herons who pierced the northern sky with their elegant wings and pointed beaks. The boars who squealed and thundered across the brush. Will could identify and spell each of their names, tell you their unique behaviors, along with at least one assorted fact about them— he couldn’t make a career off of that, though, so he dropped it. Grew out of it like a ratty hand-me-down cardigan.

The bayou, for all of its danger, made Will feel safe and childish. Childish . That was the kicker, because he didn’t need those support mechanisms in his adult life. A hefty dose of Klonopin, sure, but that was it. Forever. He no longer needed all the things he might have needed as a boy. He ignored the urge to drive down to Louisiana and- he dared not to say it- play . He especially neglected the playful tug at his wading pants while he was river-fishing. He didn’t need those things. He didn’t. He smothered them with a pillow until they stopped struggling.

(He came to learn that his brain had no jurisdiction over his heart, and when his heart was telling his legs to move in the direction of the secluded forest that hugged the riverbanks, well, that’s a far greater force than any gross motor skill).

His father used to berate him for his filth when he returned home after his little outings, but it was always with a degree of fondness and was nothing compared to the prejudice he faced at school, even from his friends. Smelling of bog water and humidity. His father, probably, was used to the aroma. It was his house too, after all. Now, though, Will was bigger. He could take a shower and wash his clothes and it would all be fine, even if that didn’t ring true during his younger years. He didn’t need somebody else to do those basic things for him, to lead him by his hand until he could walk on his own; to run through the forest was enough, to laugh like he did when he was eight and thriving and ignorant to his plight, even if he did feel it creeping in.

You can only ignore your heart for so long. The strange instincts you didn’t know you had.

He was putrid, for a lack of better words. Dirt caked his pants and face and tangled in his hair, strands plastered to his forehead with sweat. He could , theoretically, clean himself up. Go right home and handle this like a big boy, like an adult, which is (ironically) exactly the same sentiment that landed him on Hannibal Lecter’s doorstep like a stray dog.

“Will?” Hannibal says, dressed in one of his more casual suits (casual being a comparative word. He is always done up in his most impeccable dress). It’s three in the afternoon and the sun is sizzling above, only accentuating Will’s musk; Hannibal notices as well, and his nose scrunches unpleasantly despite himself. Will briefly notices that Hannibal seldom emotes so vividly, but the observation seems as though it’s only being broadcasted to him, rather than conjured up in his own mind

“Is everything alright?”

Will only hums and rocks back and forth on his heels, hands wringing the bottom of his shirt anxiously, beads of sweat sweltering on his temples. Hannibal watches him with a sort of knowingness that feels contemplative, experimental. Will is only able to tell this by the way Hannibal’s eyes glaze over and he seems to look straight through Will as if he were a specter. This isn’t the first of these occurrences, either; Will has slipped into a more youthful mindset accidentally only twice before, once at a crime scene and once at Hannibal’s office. Where the world seems bigger and Will seems far, far smaller. In a way, it comforts him. In that same way, he is terrified.

“You look disheveled,” Hannibal says, and his tone is less chastising and more alarmed, perhaps impressed at the absurdity, perhaps concerned. “Why don’t you come in?”

Will nods and ambles past Hannibal into the foyer, immediately intimidated by the openness. Simple, compact spaces always brought Will comfort. He’d feel enclosed like each wall was an angel extending to him their protection. In a space as grand and vast as this, he feels exposed. Hannibal comes up beside him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, as unexpected as it is grounding.

“Come,” he soothes, guiding him into the considerably smaller dining room- it’s still magnificent, but the ceiling is lower and there’s more to fill the negative space. Chairs and fireplaces and vases lined along the wall, paintings dotting the space above. Hannibal leads him to a seat at the end of the table and sits him down; Will breathes a sigh of relief at not having to decide where to sit, or what is appropriate, trivial a matter as it is.

“‘M makin’ your chair all dirty,” mumbles a displeased Will once he’s squirmed into being comfortable. Hannibal leans over him, producing a handkerchief and wiping away a smudge of mud from Will’s cheek.

“Chairs can be cleaned. Besides, you seem distressed. Do you care to tell me what happened?” He takes a seat perpendicular to Will, arms folded on the table, back straight. Ever so perfect is the good doctor.

“Was… in the forest,” Will says, tip-toeing around the word play because people like Will simply do not play. What was I doing, then? “And, and I don’t… I can’t-”

“Would you like me to help you clean up?”

Will gnaws an angry bruise into his lip, his green eyes boring apprehensive holes into his lap. One part of him- one that’s big and broad- says that he’s wasting Hannibal’s time, this is unprofessional, this is embarrassing, and a perversion of his time. The other- much smaller and meek- just wants to be clean, and for a bygone reason, wants Hannibal to be the one to assist. Maybe it’s Hannibal’s professional status as a therapist that exudes an impression of compassion and care, something parallel to paternity. Instead, maybe it was Hannibal’s unique understanding of Will that invited him to bare his throat, his mind, his insides. He nods, and Hannibal returns it. His fate is sealed.

“Very well. Come with me. Have you a change of clothes?” Hannibal asks, letting Will trail behind him up the tall, curling flight of stairs. A red and golden carpet is sprawled down the length of the stairwell, following its curve. Will shakes his head and grabs a handful of Hannibal’s blazer rather than the railing, surely wrinkling the expensive wool. If Hannibal minds, he doesn’t show it.

The space between his mind and the world is where he has curled up and built his temporary solace. It’s blurry inside, and Will has to hang on tight to his surroundings in reality; ornate light fixtures hanging from the ceiling and antique paintings with macabre themes, boasting opulent golden frames. His penchant for music seeping into his interior design, with sheet music scattered about in a decidedly orderly manner as if he had purposefully tried to replicate the chaos of a mess.

The observation is gone as soon as it comes, like second nature, and Will can let it be washed away by the calm stream of his thoughts, for it is too hazy in this depersonalized state of his but hazy like a sauna. Warm and bare.

The bathroom door flings— no, is gently pushed— open and Will is relieved to not be immediately blinded by fluorescent lamps and bright tile. It’s paved in dark marble, while Victorian-style arches and moldings adorn the walls and ceiling, as intricate as their counterparts in the foyer. The fixtures seem vintage, gold and shining, and the countertop is a deep mahogany. A freestanding clawfoot bathtub sits at the end like the fountain of youth. A receptacle for indulgence.

He’s especially grateful for the dim, gentle lighting as if he is having his cheek tenderly caressed rather than battered and bruised. A lavish robe hangs from a hook beside the counter.

“Come now,” prods Hannibal, coaxing Will into the bathroom. Will saunters in nervously, and Hannibal brushes past him, retrieving a towel from the cabinet and laying it on the counter, smoothing it over with his hands. Will collapses onto the toilet seat— he’s overheating in his clothes, the fabric is too thick and heavy, and his skin oppresses his bones, threatening to rend him to the ground. His breathing picks up pace and he squirms uncomfortably, beginning to punch at his arms weakly.

Hannibal’s voice pierces through the fray. “Do you need help getting undressed?”

Will whines and curls in on himself; his hair is too dirty, unpleasant and sticky on his head, he feels too big for his skin, he isn’t used to the smell in here, and his head is caving in on itself– he fears his bones may bulge through his skin and tear free. He thinks he may die. He’s pretty sure he’s dying.

Suddenly, though, he isn’t, and instead he’s having his wrists restrained by either of Hannibal’s hands and he’s crouching beside him, careful not to make eye contact. Like a dam, keeping everything in, gentle yet formidable. He keeps it all in . Hannibal is taller than Will, if not just by an inch or two, but the slight difference in proportion is just enough to make Will feel small. Or maybe he’s imagining that. Right now, it doesn’t matter which.

“I know you are nervous, Will,” Hannibal hushes, thoughtful to control his tone of voice. “But I need you to use your words, alright? I cannot help you if you do not tell me what you need.”

Will nods, and Hannibal wipes away the tears that Will hadn’t even noticed had ever formed.

“I need help,” Will mumbles, hardly even audible. Hannibal graciously settles for this answer with nary a frown and slots his hands under Will’s armpits, pulling him to his feet. The green field jacket is shucked off first and falls stiff to the floor. Then comes his olive button-up, carefully unbuttoned and discarded along with his coat. Will begins to fidget when Hannibal unclasps his belt.

“No need to be anxious,” Hannibal says. “You are safe here. Nobody is going to judge you. We’re going to get you cleaned up, alright?” He places a careful palm against Will’s cheek. He’s testing the waters– has been all night. Drawing the line in the sand a bit closer each time the waves wipe the last one away. Will isn't sure where he stands. He can only hope Hannibal will help him figure it out. “Won't that feel nice?”

“Yeah,” Will easily agrees, and lets Hannibal remove the rest of his clothes (he catches a subdued sneer at the khaki color of his chinos, and doesn’t quite blame him. He isn’t known for being the best-dressed man in the world).

“There you are,” Hannibal remarks, and deposits the pile into a nearby hamper. “We can clean those later, alright? Wait here while I run the water and find something for you to wear.”

“You’re leaving?”

Hannibal smiles reassuringly. “I am, but only for a moment. Should you require me, you need only call. I’ll be here.”

Will is left alone with the bubbling, dated sound of the faucet as it fills the ceramic to its brim. He hears the distant creaking of old floorboards, the hum of the water heater. For such an extravagant house, it has touches of real, common humanism in its walls. A thin thread that connects Hannibal to every other person on the planet, as detached and withdrawn as he sometimes likes to act. Will’s hands are folded in between his knees, and he’s leaned forward a bit as he waits for Hannibal to return. He feels warm, peaceful, cared for, and a trifle exhausted. Discontent. What is it that’s holding him back?

When Hannibal returns, a pair of ambiguous silk pajamas are draped over his arm, and he places them atop the towel delicately. They’re a muted beige and capture all of the light in the room, little as that quantity is. Nicer than anything Will would choose to wear. Hannibal turns off the faucet and the warm water falls still, steaming gently billowing in the air. Droplets of water periodically drip from the faucet.

“Do you need me to help you in?”

Will doesn’t think his legs would support him if he so much as tried to stand on his own. He runs the heel of his palm over his eye tiredly and stretches his arms expectantly towards Hannibal. Hannibal gives him an affectionate smile and guides him into the bath.

Will is used to the thrumming of high-pressure water against a tile basin. Will is used to heavy, exerted breathing as the heat fogs up the space, and suddenly enclosed areas aren’t as comforting as they are entrapping. Here, though, he is being tenderly delivered into the warm water and sinks into it, fighting the beckoning pull on his eyelids. It’s like he’s being lulled by a soothing, benign god of luxury and sleep.

“There you are,” Hannibal muses, and takes a seat on a stool beside Will’s head. “Just relax. You’re alright.”

He retrieves a red loofah and onto it squirts a quarter-sized dollop of body wash, an unobtrusive fragrance of pine. It’s nothing like Hannibal’s own scent, but Will isn’t in the right mindset to be suspicious about why Hannibal already owned soap that was so uniquely Will, tailored to his likeness. Curious, maybe. Is it okay to be curious? As he’s about to bring the loofah to Will’s skin, he hesitates.

“Loofahs encourage circulation and exfoliation on the skin,” he explains after a brief moment of silence. Will tilts his head. “Alternatively, they’re breeding grounds for bacteria. That’s why I replace mine regularly.” He extends it to Will, who touches it tentatively.

“However, the material can be very scratchy and harsh. Do you feel?”

Will rubs a leaf between his fingers and immediately recoils, scrunching his nose. Hannibal removes it at once, but not before he submerges it under the water to rid it of its contents.

“Very well.” He leaves it on the rim of the tub. “Would you like me to find something else?”

They cycle through rags and sponges, different textures and materials, until they settle on a washcloth that's just plush enough to not irritate him, but stimulating enough to remind him of where he is.

Pleased to have pleased Will, Hannibal runs the cloth up and down the length of Will’s left arm, then the right, asks him to prop his right leg up on the rim of the bath, and then the left. Drags it about his stomach, his thighs, and the sensitive parts of his neck that make Will need to suppress a giggle.

Will doesn’t feel like talking about why he was playing in the woods in the first place, why he keeps whining instead of speaking clearly, why he feels so spoiled and idle, all in the body of a grown man; Will Graham, to be exact, to whom life did not afford such luxuries. He especially did not want to discuss why he sought out Hannibal specifically, or why Hannibal was so immediately receptive. And so he didn’t, because he didn’t need to. For once, by God, he didn’t need to.

“I know it’s uncomfortable for you,” Hannibal says as he tilts Will’s head back and pushes his hair away from his face, letting a glass of water cascade through it. (He always had a special way of reading Will’s mind, and it’s always impressive before it becomes just short of uncanny). “Being dirty, and then wet, all in somewhere unfamiliar. Clothes you’ve never worn, scents you’ve never smelled. But I assure you, you’ve got nothing to worry about here. There is nobody that needs saving. Nothing that exists outside of this room.”

He rakes his hands through Will’s curls, fingers catching on dense locks and tight knots. Will leans into his grasp, shoulders resting against the back of the tub. He doesn’t register Hannibal rinsing out the shampoo and then the conditioner, nor a gentle tapping at his bicep.

“It’s time to get out now, Will.”

Will whines.

“Don’t be petulant. Come now, let’s get out.”

“Don’t wanna leave,” Will says tiredly, hardly pronouncing his vowels.

“The tub or the house?”

“House,” he yawns.

“You can stay in my home for as long as you’d like, Will. I just need you out of here, okay? Could you do that for me?”

Will nods slowly, wishing he could fall asleep here and be done with it. But Hannibal is making a request of him, and he’s already burdened him so greatly, both in this night and in generally dragging him into his own issues; he shouldn’t reject him. He doesn’t know why, but he knows he shouldn’t, either out of moral obligation or out of fear of slipping further into whatever this was. He never cared before about whether he came off as rude or impolite.

Granted, though, that was before, and before he wasn’t being bathed by his psychiatrist while he had mini-meltdowns.

He allows himself to be assisted into standing and then dried off from head to toe with a plush microfiber towel, exquisite and soft. Will could drown in the sensation. The water in the tub is murky and brown as it swirls down the drain. Hannibal doesn’t bother to ask Will if he needs help dressing himself— he needed help the last several times, after all— and takes the liberty of doing it for him, buttoning up his top and slipping on his bottoms, long and loose and airy. Cold against his skin. They're a bit big on him— Will wonders if this was on purpose— and hang off of his frame, giving the impression of a child playing dress-up rather than an adult clad in their own bedtime garb.

Hannibal meticulously dries his hair, pausing occasionally to comb through it with his fingers and fluff it back into place. Unnecessary, time-consuming. Will basks in the strange sensation of being worthy of such attention.

He remembers very little of the rest of the night, save for Hannibal leading him down the hall and into a room with a large bed in the center, being sat on the edge, feeling as if he craved something he could not yet have. Feeling the exhausted arms of his heart reach for Hannibal as he bid him good night and disappeared. He left the door cracked and a sliver of light spilled through. Will had never been so afraid of the dark before.

When he wakes, his clothes are folded neatly on the nightstand and his shoes are waiting beside the front door, all impeccably cleaned as if he had bought them brand new. He gets dressed and leaves before he can smell breakfast wafting through the many rooms and it’s midnight when he returns home, for he had spent several hours driving in a straight line. He’d stop for gas, keep driving, run out of gas, and the cycle would repeat until the large Tennessee Welcomes You sign bid him back to reality.

His dogs sniff him curiously, his feet and his legs. He no longer smells of fish and offensive cologne; rather, soft pine and woodland, something that would sit on the highest, highest shelf at Bath & Body Works. Something Will likely wouldn’t choose for himself but suited him anyway.

Will almost doesn't recognize his scent either, feeling foreign in his own home. He does notice, however, how his clothes and body are as clean as they had ever been. Not that Will is unkempt, reeks every day, or doesn’t take care of himself. He, most days, simply isn’t as on top of it as his peers, and especially not Hannibal. (He also seems to attract the brunt of dirt and grime like flies to a glue trap; perhaps that is why everybody around him is so well kept in comparison to him, there’s no dirt left to sully them).

He removes his work boots in a daze, hangs his coat on the hanger, and takes a seat in the center of his couch, as he absentmindedly scratches Winston’s head, or perhaps Buster, or another dog he’d (regrettably) forgotten the name of. As he lays in bed, splayed on his back and covers thrown off, he briefly remembers he has an appointment scheduled tomorrow evening with Hannibal. Dragging a hand over his face seems to be the only appropriate reaction.

They can discuss the events of the night then. Of course they can. And Hannibal will have all the answers for him and then things can go back to the way they’ve been. He can tell him he needs to get his behavior in check, stop snapping at people, and keep a handle on his sense of reality. Hannibal can tell him, and he will listen. He always does.

That comes later, though. Tonight, Will is fatigued beyond the point of comprehension and doesn’t fall asleep so much as pass out, the feeling of being pampered never quite wearing off.

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ Agere headcanons ໒ ˚⁎

May I request caregiver Hannibal Lecter headcanons, and if it isn’t too much to add on may I ask for little Will Graham headcanons as well? If possible.

Caregiver Hannibal Lectern:

•He'd have an incredibly meticulous and methodical approach to caregiving, mirroring his fastidious nature in all aspects of care for Will

•Despite his darker tendencies, he'd be surprisingly patient and attentive, offering support and guidance to Will in a composed and refined manner

•Hannibal might utilize his culinary skills to create comforting and nourishing meals for Will, turning cooking into a bonding experience

•His care might also include intellectual pursuits, encouraging Will's curiosity and engaging him in stimulating conversations or activities

Age regressor Will Graham :

•Will Graham might regress to different ages depending on the situation. When feeling vulnerable or stressed, he might regress to a younger age, around 4 or 5, seeking comfort and safety. However, during less stressful times, he might regress to an older age, maybe around 8 or 9, curious and playful but still in need of reassurance

•Despite his regression, Will's keen observation skills might still persist, albeit in a more simplistic and innocent way, enabling him to notice subtle details that others might overlook

•Favorite Pet Names: Hannibal might call him endearing names like "Little Wolf" or "Dear Heart," emphasizing his protective and caring nature towards Will, especially in these vulnerable states. Will, in return, might refer to Hannibal as "Doctor Lecter" or "Hanni" in a childlike affectionate manner

•Will might have certain comfort objects when in his younger headspace—perhaps a stuffed animal or a favorite blanket that he clings to for security and comfort !

•When in his younger headspace, Will might enjoy activities that provide comfort and security, such as coloring, building with blocks, or reading children's books

•Certain triggers or memories might cause Will to regress, making it necessary for Hannibal or someone close to gently guide him back to a more grounded state

[littlespacereader]

hai! saw that you write for hannibal, could u do headcannons of him with a baby regressor reader?(i'll lead the details to u ofc i'll read anything u write!♡) i feel like he would be the most gentlest cg ever!!

A Hannibal request!! You have no idea how excited I was to write this! I’ve always felt Hannibal would be the sweetest and gentlest Caregiver ever just like you said! Definitely gonna have to make a Will one or a Hannibal and Will couple one after this. If that’s something you want to see let me know! With that being said, please enjoy!

Caregiver! Hannibal Lector Headcannons (Sfw)

Tw - (I’m making him not the criminal he is in the show so no cannibalism at all), mentions of diapers, mentions of pacifier.

After looking over his sister when he was younger he knows perfectly how to be the gentlest and softest Caregiver anyone has ever known.

He is all for his little one. He says he doesn’t spoil them…but of course he does.

He NEVER judges his little ones needs. You want a pacifier? Of course! You want to wear diapers? He’s all for it. Whatever you want or need he’s all for it. Never once judging you or seeing you differently. He loves you unconditionally.

He takes them with him everywhere, to the opera, to his office, but he also loves to take you out on little outings like the museum or the aquarium.

While he is strict with his rules, he’s also a softie when it comes to his little one. The puppy dog eyes are his weakness.

But when he does have to correct his little one he NEVER raises his voice. He calmly explains what they did wrong and what they should do instead next time.

He LOVES having his little one in their high chair in the kitchen with him while he cooks.

He ABSOLUTELY DIES when his little one wants to help him out with the cooking. He makes sure their utensils are safe, or he just lets them mix the ingredients in. Always closely watching and making sure they’re safe.

He always sits across from you at the table. While he is very neat and clean when he eat, he doesn’t mind you making a mess eating. He just smiles at you, honored you love his cooking so much.

He’s always super gentle when it comes to bathtime. He gives the BEST head massage when he washes your hair. It never fails to put you in a sleep state.

He can never put his little one down. He LOVES to carry them around, cuddle them or gently rock them in his arms. There’s no better feeling to him than his little one sleeping in his arms with their head resting on his shoulder.

Such a protective papa bear.

He is such a show off too, always showing colleagues photos of his little one and/or bragging about them.

He loves to play hide and seek with his little one. “Now where did Y/n go? Are they under the couch? No not there. How about here! No, not there.” All while their little one giggles and watches him walk past their spot.

At night he always makes his younger Regressor a bottle and read them a story, and then another story, and then another until he knows they’re in a peaceful sleep.

He sometimes reads bedtime stories in his native language because he knows his little one loves to hear it, even if they don’t understand it.

If his little one gets hurt or sick he immediately switches into Doctor Dad mode. He is tending to their ever need and nurses them back to their healthy self.

While he keeps his and his little’s life very regimented, that all goes out the window when he meets Will Graham. Will brings a whole new life to his and his little’s life.

He makes sure to have a good balance of having alone time with his little and having time with him, Will and his little.

The three play a game called “Monster Hero” where one of them is the monster trying to get the little one and the other is the hero trying to protect them. The two swap the roles so one of them isn’t always the hero. The three run around Will’s big backyard chasing his little one around. And Hannibal’s little one absolutely adores this game!

You like little kisses here and there? Well he likes it more. He’s always giving little kisses to his little on their head or on their hand.

He loves to sketch pictures of you. He sees you as a work of art irl.

He also adores when the two of you draw together. Him with his sketch pad and you with your crayons.

If you color a picture or draw a picture for him he considers it art work worth of the museum. He makes such a big deal over his little artist! The fridge is running out of room with all his drawings.

He’s always praising them, letting them know how good of a job their doing or how proud he is of them.

When he drives them anywhere he always buckles them himself and makes them sit in the backseat. He can’t have his little one getting hurt sitting in the front seat now can he? Plus you’re too young for the front seat anyway.

Are you upset about something and start crying? He will always be there to comfort you. While he is a therapist he will never ever play that card on you. He’s your Caregiver first and foremost. But if you want advice or to talk to him he’s always available and there to listen.

Wherever you are with him he’s always holding your hand. He loved the comfort of having his little one close.

He would never admit it to anyone but his biggest fear is losing his little one. While he has a lot of people in his life, his little one is one of the few people who he truly cares about unconditionally. He’s his most vulnerable self around them.

If you guys want to see a Will Graham Headcannon or one with the both of them being Caregivers let me know:)

[peppermintquartz]

Eames finds himself extraordinarily nervous at the prospect of diving into Hannibal Lecter's mind.

He wasn't kidding when he told Arthur to stay out of it. The first time they were there and he took on the guise of Will Graham, Lecter recognized the wrongness of the dream too quickly for someone who isn't trained in the field. Add to that fact is Lecter's former profession as a psychiatrist and a surgeon, both requiring deep focus and understanding of people. Lecter doesn't only know how to fix people's minds and bodies, he knows how to break them too, if the notes they have on him are accurate.

They're now in sunny Miami, the Florida heat pressing down on them like a thick, damp quilt. Arthur, bless him, is still in his shirt and vest, but at least he's shed his jacket and put on his shades (Armani, very understated gunmetal silver frames with dark gray lenses). Meanwhile Eames has pulled on an obnoxiously loud shirt, bright green with pink flamingos holding piña coladas, over his white tank top. Arthur tells him to sit in the back seat and stay there with the PASIV. Eames tries his best Midwestern accent and Arthur stifles a chuckle, which means it's perfectly terrible.

Anyone observing them (there are two agents in a different vehicle which neither Eames nor Arthur acknowledge) will see a criminal of some standing with his underling or bodyguard pretending to be a harmless tourist with a hired driver. They make their way to Coconut Grove, Google Maps guiding them to the address of one Dr Frederick Chilton.

The person who opens the door eyes Eames suspiciously until he greets her in Spanish, and then they have a quick conversation while Arthur waits for the agents following them clears the house.

"Ignatia is Chilton's caregiver; his bodyguards are David and Phil - ¿Quién es ese de allí? - that's David. Gracias, señorita, muchas gracias." Eames takes off his ugly shirt and pulls on a paisley shirt that is, thankfully, less neon. "Chilton's expecting us but he tires quickly, and we must not shake hands with him as he's still recovering from skin graft surgery."

They've read up on his condition on the flight over so both men hide their shock well upon seeing Chilton in person. The man is a patchwork of skin tones, from head to presumably toes, and it is a testament to his will to live that keeps him still breathing.

"I hear," says Chilton once introductions are made, "that you. Have caught. Just half of. The Murder Husbands." He breathes hard, his face twitching with the effort, and goes on. "Will Graham. Will try to break him. Out."

"We know that is a risk, which is why we're trying to catch him first. Is there anything you can tell us about them?" Arthur asks. He keeps his eyes on Chilton's face, as if he's not so mutilated that the mere sight of him will give a child enough trauma for a lifetime.

Eames is trying to commit the garbled manner of speech to memory; the skin grafts will be hard to forge, especially since he'll have to make sure they don't shift about in a dream. It's easier to look at the wretched man by thinking of him as a challenge than as a victim.

Chilton makes a wet, gurgling sound; Ignatia pats him gently on the back. It's laughter, Eames realizes.

"This. Is all fun. And games. To them." Chilton inhales sharply again. "He's already. Watching you. Becoming you. And he'll know. Know you. Better than. Anyone else. Even yourself." Chilton gasps; they all pretend not to hear the rattling wheeze as he fights to keep breathing.

Finally Chilton relaxes. "Those bastards. Have their own plans. Will Graham will find. A way. To push you. Or. The one you care. Most about. To the wolves." What's left of his mouth chatters and twitches. "All to see. What you would do. And then. He'll use that. To break you."

"Will Graham is deeply empathetic."

"Doesn't. Make him. A good man." Chilton's left hand flops up to point at himself. See? See?

Eames thanks Chilton for his time and leads Arthur out with a hand at his elbow. They will need to find a secure location to discuss matters. However, as Eames leaves Chilton's place, he feels as though unfriendly eyes are on him, all the way to the car, all the way driving back to Midtown, all the way to the hotel room where it's clear it's just him and Arthur.

What will Will Graham do?

[corvidae-syscourse]

Alter Intros

Obligatory pinned post for alter intros. Updated 12/30/2022 Catchall Pronouns: He/it/xe/they Catchall Name: Will/Crow (or any other bird in the corvidae family)

⚠ Fictive heavy ⚠

Roles that we coined:

Driver - allowed to drive our car Drone - one who does chores, schoolwork, or other menial tasks Struggler - one who struggles more with a certain disability Hobbyist - one who maintains a hobby for the body Internal Communications - can communicate in the inner world well Babysitter - supervises other alters Shield - fronts when a mental breakdown occurs Clone - refers to any duplicates of alters

Information we do not plan on sharing: body age, alter ages, alter sexualities/genders, inner system relationships

"Theme Song(s)" refers to songs that are positive front triggers

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Frequent Fronters -

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Will Graham Pronouns: he/it/xe Host, Driver, Drone, Struggler, Hobbyist, Clone Fictive - Hannibal (TV) Likes: fishing, kayaking, reading, geography, research Dislikes: math, shopping ANTI-ENDO Theme Song(s): Chemical Overreaction/Compound Fracture by Will Wood and the Tapeworms, That's Enough, Let's Get You Home by Will Wood, Screechin' Wheels by Shayfer James, 1985 by Bo Burnham

SUBSYSTEM OF 3:

Season 1 Will

Season 3 Will

Post-finale Will

+ Comments: I have a love/hate relationship with existence.

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Eddie Munson Pronouns: he/they Drone, Protector, Hobbyist Fictive - Stranger Things (TV) Likes: good music, video games, drawing Dislikes: sitcoms, pottery PRO-ENDO Theme Song(s): Demon Fire by AC/DC

+ Comments: N/A

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Anthony J. Crowley Pronouns: any Gatekeeper, Internal Communications, Babysitter, Driver Fictive - Good Omens (TV) Likes: music, doodling, singing Dislikes: being ignored

+ Comments: Yes, he really does use the initial.

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Valentine Pronouns: he/they Drone, Struggler Factive - IRL Friend Likes: music, carnivals/fairs/amusement parks, reading, writing Dislikes: talking w/ source friend b/c it's awkward

+ Comments: N/A

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Billy Hargrove Pronouns: he/him/his Shield, Struggler, Protector, Driver, Persecutor Fictive - Stranger Things (TV) Likes: music and macabre trinkets Dislikes: people Theme Song(s): Fuel by Metallica

+ Comments: N/A

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Hannibal Lecter Pronouns: he/him/his Protector, Shield, Caregiver, Clone Fictive - Hannibal (TV & book series) Likes: people watching Dislikes: people interacting ANTI-ENDO

SUBSYSTEM OF 2:

Season 1 Hannibal

Post-Finale Hannibal

+ Comments: N/A

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Steve Harrington Pronouns: he/him/his Struggler, Drone Fictive - Stranger Things (TV)

+ Comments: N/A

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Roadkill Pronouns: It/xe Shield, Protector ANTI-ENDO Theme Song(s): My Ordinary Life by the Living Tombstone

+ Comments: N/A

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Will Wood Pronouns: he/they/she Struggler, Driver, Drone, Shield Factive - Will Wood (musician) ANTI-ENDO Theme Song(s): anything by Will Wood and/or Will Wood and the Tapeworms

+ Comments: I dunno what to say.

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Mozart "Ozzy" Pronouns: He/they/it/xe/ze/wyrm/rot/pup/thy Hobbyist

+ Comments: N/A

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Other -

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Veros Pronouns: they/he Babysitter, Caretaker

+ Comments: N/A

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Klaus Hargreeves Pronouns: he/they/she Fictive - Umbrella Academy (TV)

+ Comments: N/A

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Abigail Pronouns: she/her/hers Fucktive - IRL friend + Abigail Hobbs from "Hannibal" (TV) ANTI-ENDO

+ Comments: N/A

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Beelzebub Pronouns: it/xe/ze Babysitter

+ Comments: N/A

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Jacob Pronouns: he/him Little

+ Comments: N/A

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Missing -

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Odysseus Pronouns: he/him/his Gatekeeper 2+ years dormant

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Mikan Pronouns: she/they Caretaker Fictive - Danganronpa (game) 4+ years dormant

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Mason Pronouns: he/??? Protector 3+ years missing

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The Twins, Percival & Atlas Pronouns: he/they 3+ years missing

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Sage Pronouns: she/they 3+ years dormant

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[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Pregnant!Female!Reader) pt. 13

Hannibal and cult girl make an executive decision about their family and their future.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: threats of violence

"What do you think, pumpkin?" You whispered to your bump, hoping that the jaunty music coming from your 3DS would make your one-sided conversion harder to hear. "Which starter should I choose?"

You put your hand on your belly. "Should I choose Treeko?"

A strong, enthusiastic kick followed.

"Wow! Treeko it is, then." You laughed, selecting the lizard Pokémon. "With kicks that strong, you're gonna grow up to be an MMA fighter."

Hannibal entered the room, trying to soothe his temper but failing. He was tasked with cleaning up the mess on the porch, and his sinuses were singed.

"My hero!" You cooed, trying to make him feel better about having to deal with what you dubbed the Bitch Petroleum Oil Spill.

"If she comes back on our property, she's dinner." Hannibal paced back and forth across the room, seething with rage. You didn't know if it was the threat against your life or the h-bomb of concentrated essential oils that got him so steamed. Probably both.

"Hannibal-" You said in a soothing voice.

"-if she runs into you at the grocery store, she's dinner. If I smell a whiff of that hideous Marc Jacobs concoction she bathes in, she's dinner."

"I don't think anything is going to happen, Hanni." You said, more for your sake than for his. If there was even a possibility that you or your baby were in danger, he'd do everything in his power to keep you safe. And he had quite a bit of power.

Hannibal released a tense breath and sat down on the bed. "How do you know?"

You shut your 3DS and put it to the side. "I just do."

"With logical reasoning like that, you'd make quite a lawyer, Mrs. Lecter." Hannibal teased, in that stiff, half-amused way he did when he was partially done working through tension.

"If it were Theresa, I'd be worried." You rationalized. "Theresa is an executor. Anna is a follower. She doesn't have the individual drive to actually, y'know, hurt someone."

"You did end her career and her marriage, not to mention her prospects of winning an obscene amount of money, in one ten-minute conversation." He recounted. "That is some serious motive. I wouldn't put much past her."

"Please." You rolled your eyes. "All she's gonna do is beg Liam to let her in, take a bath and drink an entire bottle of chardonnay while watching Riverdale."

Hannibal took off his shoes and lied down next to you. He propped his head up on his arm and fixed his gaze on you.

"What?" You laughed.

"You're so delectably round." He commented, licking his lips.

"Hey!" You protested. "You can't make those jokes when you actually eat people, y'know?"

"Is that so?" He smirked, propping himself up over you on his elbows. He lowered his face down to your ear. "Am I scaring you?"

"No." You giggled. "But you might be scaring her!"

"Her?" He repeated.

"The baby, who else?"

His face turned from playfully mischievous to genuine wonder and awe. He stroked your hair and looked into your eyes.

"What?" You laughed. "Are you mad that I assumed the baby's pronouns? Cause I will read her Gender Trouble when the time is right-"

"You want to be a mother." He said, his voice in an optimistic upturn.

Your face turned hot. "I've been... considering it."

"You do." Hannibal corrected. "I hear you talking to her, teaching her all about Pokémon. Telling her all the things you want to do when she arrives."

You looked down at your belly and narrowed your eyes. "You snitch. I told you not to tell anyone."

Hannibal chuckled, his hand lifting your shirt to reveal your large belly. "You would be the most incredible mother."

"Not to harsh the buzz or anything," You said, breaking eye contact. "But it's not like I have a very strong foundation to build off of."

"That just means we have to build our own foundation." He said, his buzz not harshed in the slightest. "One based on love, education, compassion."

"Hannibal..." you sighed. "What happens when I go back to school?"

"You'll study. Hard, of course." He said as if it were that simple. "You'll focus on your career and I will be the primary caregiver until you've established yourself."

"You said it yourself, though." You shrugged. "Parenting isn't supposed to be some blissful retirement plan. It's stressful."

"I've come to the realization that if I want this child I need to do everything in my power to minimize the burden on you." Hannibal said. "My career is secured. Yours is just getting started. I couldn't live with myself if I denied you that."

"I mean..." your voice trailed off. "We killed two couples and turned them into tex-mex together. Is there anything we can't do?"

"That's my girl." He said, running his fingers through your hair.

"Of course, now we have a lot of planning to do." You tried not to sound too excited. "We need to buy a stroller, a carseat, a changing table-"

"Pick a name." Hannibal finished.

Your mouth hung open. "Oh, shit, you're right!"

"You haven't thought of it at all?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

You shook your head. "Once you name it, you start getting attached to it. I guess I wanted to avoid that."

"So you're telling me you don't have a singular notion of what you'd want to name our little girl?" He pressed.

You caved. "Something not basic."

Hannibal was a professional at keeping his emotions under wraps: and that included body language and vocal intonation. You learned to pick up on his reactions through the most minute of tells. For example, the tiny exhale out of his nose and the slight tightening of his lips roughly translated to "oh thank god".

"Something that would be befitting for the title of countess." Hannibal said, taking the opportunity to remind you of his royal lineage.

"Will she be privy to the title if she's born out of wedlock?" You joked.

"She will be. Because I say so." Hannibal's curled upper lip turned into a self-confident smile. "And so will you, my countess."

"Well, in that case," You said, staring dreamily off into space. "I've always liked the quiet majesty of Gaelic and Celtic names."

His eyes lit up. "Deidre, Isolde, Saoirse, Rowena?"

"Boudicca." You offered. "Countess Boudicca Lecter."

"The warrior queen." He placed his hand over your belly. "Just like her mother."

"Or what about Cordelia?" You posed. "It's elegant, but simple."

"Imogen?" Hannibal said, as if he were asking the baby for her opinion.

Another sharp kick followed. He would never get used to feeling her kick. It made him melt every time.

He lowered himself to bring his lips to your belly. "You like the name Imogen?"

"Imogen Lecter." You said. "I like the sound of that."

Hannibal kissed your bump and then looked up at you. "Now then, my love. You are to teach me everything you know about Pokémon."

Your eyes widened. You never thought anyone would ever ask that. "...I'd love to, but, why?"

Hannibal returned to your side and pulled you into his arms. "How am I supposed to keep up with you and sweet Imogen if I don't know how the game works?"

You laughed. "You really want to know?"

"It makes you happy." He nodded, holding you a little closer. "Why wouldn't I want to know?"

A smile spread across your face. "It's a turn-based roleplaying game. You catch and train magical creatures and the end goal is to assemble a diverse team that covers as many areas as possible."

"That sounds, admittedly, quite fun." He said, reaching for your 3DS. "Show me?"

You spent the rest of the evening together in a cuddle pile, walking him through how the game worked. For an evening, you forgot about your sore breasts, your aching back and your sadistic cousin. You just enjoyed being with Hannibal and with Imogen in the dim glow of a decade-old 3DS.

[kd-holloman]

Twelve Common Archetypes

Hey, everyone! I'm currently in school to get my bachelor's degree in English and Creative Writing. So far I've learned some grammar stuff that I'm going to share at another time and some of the common archetypes seen in writing. If you're interested there will be more under the cut!

1. The Lover - The romantic lead who is guided by the heart.

Strengths: Humanism, passion, conviction

Weaknesses: Naivete, irrationality

Archetype Examples: Romeo and Juliet (Romeo and Juliet), Noah Calhoun (The Notebook), Scarlett O’Hara (Gone With the Wind), Belle (Beauty and the Beast).

2. The Hero - The protagonist who rises to meet a challenge and saves the day.

Strengths: Courage, perseverance, honor.

Weaknesses: Overconfidence, hubris.

Hero Archetype Examples: Achilles (The Iliad), Luke Skywalker (Star Wars), Wonder Woman (Wonder Woman), Harry Potter (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone).

3. The Magician - A powerful figure who has harnessed the ways of the universe to achieve key goals.

Strengths: Omniscience, omnipotence, discipline.

Weaknesses: Corruptibility, arrogance.

Magician Archetype Examples: Prospero (the Tempest), Gandalf (The Lord of the Rings), Morpheus (The Matrix), Darth Vader (Star Wars).

4. The Outlaw - The rebel who won’t abide by society’s demands

Strengths: Independent thinking, virtue, owes no favors.

Weaknesses: Self-involved, potentially criminal.

Examples: Han Solo (Star Wars), Dean Moriarty (On the Road), Humbert Humbert (Lolita), Batman (The Dark Night).

5. The Explorer - A character naturally driven to push the boundaries of the status quo and explore the unknown.

Strengths: Curious, driven, motivated by self-improvement

Weakness: Restless, unreliable, never satisfied

Examples: Odysseus (The Odyssey), Sal Paradise (On the Road), Huckleberry Finn (The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn), Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock Holmes).

6. The Sage - A wise figure with knowledge for those who inquire. The mother figure or mentor is often based on this archetype.

Strengths: Wisdom, experience, insight.

Weaknesses: Cautious, hesitant to actually join the action.

Famous sages: Athena (The Odyssey), Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars), Hannibal Lecter (The Silence of the Lambs), The Oracle (The Matrix).

7. The Innocent - A morally pure character, often a child, whose only intentions are good.

Strengths: Morality, kindness, sincerity.

Weakness: Vulnerable, naive, rarely skilled.

Examples: Tiny Tim (A Christmas Carol), Lennie Small (Of Mice and Men), Cio-Cio-san (Madame Butterfly), Buddy the Elf (Elf).

8. The Creator - A motivated visionary who creates art or structures during the narrative

Strengths: creativity, willpower, conviction.

Weaknesses: Self-involvement, single-mindedness, lack of practical skills.

Examples: Zeus (The Iliad), Dr. Emmett Brown (Back to the Future), Dr. Moreau (The Island of Dr. Moreau), Dr. Victor Frankenstein (Frankenstein).

9. The Ruler - A character with legal or emotional power over others.

Strengths: Omnipotence, status, resources.

Weaknesses: Aloofness, disliked by others, out of touch.

Examples: Creon (Oedipus Rex), King Lear (King Lear), Aunt Sally (The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn), Tony Soprano (The Sopranos).

10. The Caregiver - A character who continually supports others and makes sacrifices on their behalf.

Strengths: Honorable, selfless, loyal.

Weaknesses: Lacks personal ambition or leadership.

Examples: Dolly Oblonsky (Anna Karenina), Calpurnia (To Kill a Mockingbird), Samwell Tarly (The Game of Thrones series), Mary Poppins (Mary Poppins).

11. The Everyman - A relatable character who feels recognizable from daily life.

Strengths: grounded, salt-of-the-earth, relatable.

Weaknesses: Lacking special powers, often unprepared for what’s to come

Examples: Bilbo Baggins (The Hobbit), Leopold Bloom (Ulysses), Leslie Knope (Parks & Recreation), Winston Smith (1984).

12. The Jester - A funny character or trickster who provides comic relief, but may also speak important truths.

Strengths: Funny, disarming, insightful.

Weakness: Can be obnoxious and superficial.

Examples: Sir John Falstaff (Henry V), King Lear’s Fool (King Lear), Frank and Estelle Costanza (Seinfeld), R2D2 and C-3PO (Star Wars).

[hanniballecterslover]

save me caregiver Hannibal Lecter save me…