#morgan hannibal x reader

[charliedawn]

What if for the hannibal family, the reader (their s/o,) comes in on them killing someone, but when one of the family members confronts them about it (thinking they're going to have to kill them because they think they're going to call the police) they say "what do you mean? I didn't see anything." With an innocent smile (also p.s. listen to the song hit it by snow Wife, remember she made American horror story-IT'S SO GOOD TOO)

You were called at the nearby police precinct to testify against a member of the Hannibal family. But, things didn’t go as planned for the policemen when you found yourself in the interrogation room and they asked you the question:

"Do you know this man ?"

Morgan Hannibal Lecter :

The photograph was unmistakably a picture of Morgan. You smiled tenderly at the image of your beloved for a second before your smile vanished and you shrugged.

"Never saw that man in my life." You then pushed the photograph back to the officers who looked at each other with a frown.

"But, you said on the phone that…" One of them started—but you quickly cut him off.

"It was a mistake. I have never seen that man in my life."

One of the officers groaned while the other smiled.

"Come on, miss/sir. He cannot hurt you in here. You can speak freely."

You restrained a laugh. If you were to ever open your mouth, no prison would be enough to protect you from Morgan’s wrath. But even without fear, you would never betray Morgan. Because you loved him. But, the officers before you couldn’t possibly understand. Who even could ? Morgan was your…everything.

"I have nothing else to say…" You said with a polite smile. "I was wrong. Sorry for wasting your time."

A few minutes later :

You went out of the precinct and started walking away. But before you could turn at the corner, two arms wrapped around you from behind and you felt familiar lips on your neck.

"Morgan. You didn’t have to come pick me up. I could have—"

Before you could finish that sentence, his lips were on yours. He kissed you for a while before smiling and kissing your hands next and holding them against his chest.

"I know, my love. I wanted to…Now, come on. Let’s go home."

Kevin Hannibal Lecter:

Kevin was a wanted fugitive, his face had ran on TV for years and you knew better than to ask what had really happened. You doubted it would your opinion on him—but you loved him too much to say anything.

Until one day, his past came knocking at your door.

Two FBI agents were standing there and asked you to follow them. You frowned, but complied nonetheless. You were then brought to the precinct and interrogated there.

"Do you know this man ?" You looked at the picture of Kevin and but back a laugh. They clearly hadn’t taken his good side.

"Nope. Never seen that guy in my life." You replied confidently and one of the agents frowned.

"Are you sure ? Could you take another look, please ? That man is responsible for the deaths of many people. It would really be great to catch him before he makes another victim…"

You almost snorted. What did you look like ? A snitch ? An idiot ? Was it written 'community service' on your forehead ? Were they expecting you to do their job ?

"Nah. Ain’t never seen that bastard in my life. Hope you catch him though. All my good wishes to you…" And with that, you were gone.

On your way back home, you sat down on a bench and sighed. Deep down, you knew it was wrong and that Kevin was probably not a good guy and deserved to rot in jail…But, you couldn’t. You simply couldn’t set yourself on condemning him. Because, you loved him.

You were momentarily startled when someone suddenly sat down next to you and hugged you tightly.

"I knew it ! I knew that the family was wrong to doubt you ! Come here, babe."

Kevin kissed you deeply and you were momentarily stunned by his eagerness before responding in kind.

Yeah…You knew he wasn’t a good guy. But, honestly ? Did it really matter ? He was good to you.

Peter Hannibal Lecter :

When the agents showed you Peter’s picture, you almost broke face as you noticed his innocent carefree smile. He seemed so happy. Such a lovely picture…You wished he could still smile at you like this. But, his smile wasn’t the same now…You held back your tears as you looked up at the agents.

"I am sorry. Who is this ?"

The agents looked at each other before sighing.

"We received a call telling us that this individual has been spotted around your neighbourhood not too long ago. Have you seen him recently ?"

You leaned forward and pretended to think about it before offering an apologetic smile to the officers. Peter was not someone you could snitch on. He was your precious little man and you would never betray him.

"No, sir. I am afraid I have never seen this man before…"

The agents didn’t seem to really believe you, but they had no reason to keep you and they had many other neighbours to interrogate. But, there was something about your smile that made them suspicious of you. They suspected that your innocence was but a façade…But, they finally released you.

You went back home and the moment the door was closed, you felt his arms wrap around you and pin you to the door.

"P-Peter ?" You asked. He didn’t answer. He only bent down and picked you up before kissing you passionately. His family had warned him, told him you would betray him at the first opportunity. They had told him you didn’t really love him. But, here you were…back into his arms. And now, he was certain you were loyal to him and he couldn’t wait to show you how much he loved you.

"I am never letting you out of my sight again."

Hannibal Jr. Lecter :

There was no questioning your loyalty to Hannibal Jr. Lecter. No one would be foolish enough to attack him anyway. He had them all in the palm of his hand. But, what you both hadn’t expected was for the police department to go after you. They couldn’t go after the Hannibal family, but they could go after you. You had more than once helped Hannibal Jr. get rid of the bodies and one time…You were caught.

You both tried to run. But, there was nowhere to run. You were cornered on a pier and with no way out. You both knew you going to get caught and that one of you were gonna take the fall.

"This is it, my love."

He said before pulling you into a tight hug and kissing the top of your head. He could see the police cars surrounding the both of you and suddenly held you in a head lock with a knife against your throat. Anyone else would take it as betraying, but not you. You knew there were no other way.

"…I would die for you." You said and looked him in the eyes with nothing but pure adoration in your gaze.

"I know, my darling. I know." He replied before kissing your temple lovingly as the sound of police sirens and angry shouts started blaring around you. But, you could only see or hear Hannibal as he said.

"I love you."

And in a matter of seconds, he had pushed you out of the way and into the water.

"NOOOO !" You screamed and tried to get back to him, but it was too late. Bullets started flying and before you knew it, he was on the ground. You swam as fast as you possibly could and he started crawling towards you with his hand outstretched as you quickly grabbed it.

"Why, my love ? Why ?" You asked—your tears mixing with the salty water slowly rolling down your cheeks—and he replied with a bloody smile.

"I had to. I cannot let you pay for my crimes. I won’t let another loved one be punished for my sake. I have lost…too much."

He had lost all his past lovers. For once, Hannibal Jr. would save one instead of protecting himself or his so-called family honour. And even as he was grabbed by the police and he was dragged away from you. Even as you screamed and shouted for them to let him go, he was smiling. At least…He had finally managed to save one.

Hannibal Sr. Lecter :

You denied all of the agents’ calls. You knew what would happen to you. You didn’t even show up when they asked you to come to the precinct. And even the idea of testifying against Hannibal Sr. in Court made your legs wobble in fear.

You couldn’t do it.

Finally, on the day of the trial, one of the FBI agents came to his cell and asked.

"We called. We searched. We tried everything to make Mr./Mrs. L/N testify against you. But, so far no luck. She/He is simply TERRIFIED of you. What have you done to them, you sadistic fuck ?"

Hannibal Sr. only smirked knowingly as he licked his thumb to change pages in his book before shrugging.

"You thought she/he would betray me ? Oh poor naive FBI agent." Hannibal Sr. grinned before looking up at the FBI agent with a knowing gleam in his eyes. "My wife/husband is no snitch. I trained her/him better than that."

True devotion. He had spent years drilling his values into your skull. You wouldn’t break, because Hannibal Sr. had broken you first. It was the reason you were his spouse. He had educated and tamed you so well that the sole notion of conscience had been stripped away from you. You lived for him. You breathed for him. And he knew that you had become so dependent on him that you would NEVER betray him. He had made sure of that.

He hummed quietly to himself before returning to his reading—unbothered. He would soon be with you again. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to make you scream his name so loud that you wouldn’t even dare speak up again….

He turned another page with a malicious smirk.

"~All good things come to those who wait."

[snax-writes]

snax' master list

snax writes mcu.

tony stark

bucky barnes

snax writes suits.

harvey specter

snax writes criminal minds.

derek morgan

aaron hotchner

david rossi

alex blake

snax writes hannibal.

hannibal lecter

bedelia du maurier

inesa lecter [OC]

snax writes other stuff.

derek shepherd

if you prefer ao3, here is snaxwrites on ao3.

[xxhexwolfxx]

My dating headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gn s/o request is so good! I know it's not connected but it's just so good! I love it especially Zevlor's love language is physical touch, he loves cuddles but didn't have any in a long time that he can't sleep without cuddling 🥹, I definitely think he would be protective of them & hates it if they're hurt after Act 2 🤔, I would definitely reassure him about the age gap 😤, it might be relaxing for him if they play with his tail which I would love to 😍, he enjoys to go on walks with them, their tail would be intertwined with his if they have one too, Haarlep would be romantic, their arm would always be around them as he loves to touch them, he would compliment them often even if they're dirty or just woke up 🤭, it's not uncommon to hear dirty jokes or have his hand wandering where it shouldn't be 😂, they won't let them leave by pulling them close & trap them against his body 🤣, he doesn't mind sharing them with Raphael but they would separate them if they're not, Rolan being high maintenance is too accurate 🤣, he needs compliments often since he works hard for them 😂, he's not "happy" whether he gets affections or not XD, he would brag about dating them & anything they do 😤, he would do a magic show or take their mind of it if they had a nightmare or can't sleep, how flustered Dammon would be when asking them out 🤭, he would still blush from affections or just looking at them even when dating for a while O///O, his tail would be around them when he's busy so he can hold them & to know they're there 🥹, he loves to look at them especially knowing they're here with him safe makes feel better, he enjoys feeling how different their hands are his hands since his hands are rough from working at the forge, he would always give them flowers or snack if they're allergic to flowers when he returns from work, and he would hold them close with his tail around them so they won't be far when they're sharing a bed with him! Thank you so much for doing my request because I love it so much :) Can I request now? Only if you don't mind of course!

Hello! :] Thank you so much for requesting! <3 Of course you can request! Anyone can request whatever they want. Just please follow my guidelines! Have a lovely day/night!

[breakingbranchesbella]

Self-Indulgence; A Criminal Minds Multi-Fandom Fic

Also found on Wattpad, Quotev, and Ao3 under the name BreakingBranches.

CHAPTER 1 - Loose End

Season 1. Episode 15. Unfinished Business. 

  IT'S NO SECRET that the younger you are, the longer time seems to go. Once you reach your fourties' a decade feels like a fever dream. Cassandra was still a little far from that mark. She was still only twenty-six. Twenty-six and she had wasted eight years of her developmental life personally deteriorating her own psyche. Only to be spat out by the big green machine. Now, eight years wasn't a decade, but it was certainly a long time to spend running towards no light at the end of the tunnel. 

  The tunnel had ended. The light still wasn't there. 

  Cassandra wasn't suffering, not really. She wasn't stuck in an endless torture of her own mind. She had passed her evaluation. She had been cleared for the field. Twice now, given she was sitting in the stuffiest office possible with the worst fluorescence known to man. Maybe the second worst, and she would only know this from the memories that this little scene brought back. Except in these recounts, she was on the other side of the desk. 

  "Miss Lorayne, we ask that you answer these next few questions to the best of your ability. Do you understand what I mean by that?" 

  "I do."

————————————

  There was an incessant buzzing in Cassie's pocket. At first, ignoring it had been her go-to solution. That hadn't worked. It still rang on. Over and over. And over again. Nothing but a frighteningly stimulating reminder of why she was here. Sometimes another person's kindness only serves to make you feel more helpless. Cassie had gone from a problem solver to a statistic in just twenty-five seconds. A few months later she was back to her protector role. The only difference was that this role didn't require her to move around every few months. Currently she was stationed in Quantico, Virginia. Sure, she had been given the warning that her days of freedom were seldom with this job. That traveling was still very much a constant, so much so they needed a personal jet. Having a house was just a new sort of feeling. Not a good one. Not a bad one either. 

  From police to FBI, oh how the mighty had fallen. Everyone had their opinion of each other in that part of the world. CIA, FBI, homeland security, the military, and all the way down to beat cops just trying to fill a quota. They all had their specific issues with one another. Sometimes it reached a point where the individual only cared because it was mob mentality. Cassie had her reservations, but she also had to have a job. Work till' you die, the American dream. 

  Physically, she was beyond qualified. Mentally, she met the requirements. Socially? That was going to be a fickle bridge to cross. One she was about to meet much sooner than she would have liked. 

  Today wasn't supposed to be her first day on the job, the role of a profiler and investigative specialist for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Much to her chagrin, it was going to be beyond easy. They had been assigned a case early in the morning, a Sunday. She wasn't given the full details, former serial killer, something about resurfacing. Something about an old vendetta. Something about a former agent who had spent the later half of his life obsessing over a lost case. Something, something, it was always something. Initially, Cassie was to be formally introduced to the team in a timely manner, in which it was supposed to negate any sour feelings or potential problems. Though since the jet was about to take off, she was unceremoniously given a pat on the shoulder, and a general gist of what she was up against. 

  However there wasn't enough time to prepare her for the mixed bag of people she was about to meet. Not entirely in a negative perspective, it all trailed back to her own social issues. She was easier to describe than them, and that was more often than not five simple words. 

'Hard to get along with' 

  The muscled figure stepped onto the plane, inching her way through the first enclosed space. Once she was on the other side of the thin door she was met with six faces. Only one was vaguely familiar, the other five were total strangers. It wasn't hard to place vague description to the silent confused figures before her. Nerdy, jock, kind, snappy, old. That's about the most she processed. There was obviously a lot more that had been described to her, but looking at them now she decided to just boil it down to the bare minimum.  

  "Lorayne." 

  "Hotchner." Cassie stuck a hand out to shake his own. A firm grip meeting an even harder. Calloused fingers met better kept ones. He still had a wedding band on his finger, that was probably the only reason his skincare routine was better. Not that she had any to compete with.  

  Cassie had met agent Aaron Hotchner before. He was working on a case that bounced back and forth between military and federal jurisdiction. She was stationed in America at the time, a fateful meeting that didn't seem all that important so many years ago. Today she was unable to tell if she was thankful for it or not. 

  Green tinted eyes met hazel ones. The stare was neither aggressive nor polite. It was just that; a look. "How is Haley?" Hotch's wedding band was warm, he'd been white knuckling his fist all morning. At first she thought it might have been her arrival that sparked the odd tension in the plane, however when a seventh figure emerged from the back end, she realized she shouldered the blame pretty evenly. It didn't take an analyst to pick out he didn't belong here. He wasn't horribly anxious, but he rubbed the nail head of his pinky against his ring finger. He was angry about something. Most likely the liaison she was told would be joining the team temporarily. This was his old case. He'd have to feel some sort of guilt, nervousness, or pressure over this. After all in some way of describing it, it was his fault this guy was still out there. You'd never hear Cassie admitting such a thing out-loud. 

  Hotch's response about his spouse was interrupted by another voice. A heavy voice, it was filled with confusion. "Hotch?" Aaron turned, Derek was almost out of his seat now. His skin crinkled as his nose scrunched. A half a sneer. "Right, sorry." Aaron took a step to the side, he'd gesture over towards Cassie. 

  "This is the new agent, introductions were supposed to be more formal but..." Cassie could see the way he fought himself to not look towards the odd man out. She piped up. "Liberté, egalité, fraternité." Her pronunciation wasn't that far off. It sounded practiced. It was. "French revolution?" The skinny kid's brows knitted. His train of thought was derailed by the ever consistent Derek. "We all know that one. What the hell does it have to do with this though?" 

  Cassie shrugged, awkwardly rubbing her chin against her shoulder as she did so. "Something about sticking it to the man. I was supposed to start Monday, but they weren't entirely sure when the team would return. You're as upset about this meeting as I am." The atmosphere was honestly much kinder than most situations she had been in. But she was out of her element, a fish out of water. Here everyone seemed casual, when her normal was the very opposite. All eyes were on her. It took her another moment to understand why. Thankfully with the change in pace she didn't have to meet every confused gaze with a stiff position. She was allowed to be as informal as possible. Still, impressions mattered.

  "Cassandra Lorayne, Cassie, Cass, I don't have much of a preference." Tan fingers flexed against her sides. Without her manual of squaring her shoulders, planting her feet together, and raising an arm to her forehead, she didn't know what to do. Aaron was nice enough to pick up the slack. He'd point with all five fingers towards each member. "Jason Gideon, Elle Greenaway, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, and Max Ryan. Ryan was a part of the initial case eighteen years ago." At each call of their name the member would give some sort of wave or awkward smile, as if the pointing wasn't enough of an indicator. 

  The air about them gave away the notion that they weren't entirely aware of her indoctrination to the team. Cassie doubted it was sprung on them, but the concept was probably only batted around before more important things stole their attention away. Aaron had known for a while, he was the only one lacking any sort of surprise. 

  A few moments of people watching later and the jet was already taking off. Nobody sat properly, instead they'd shift their positions to sit around a clunky laptop that Derek was opening up. Dark fingers pads clacked against buttons, a small ringtone, and there was a woman on the other end. She had blonde hair and a very personal choice of fashion sense. "Talk to me sweetheart." Noone on the jet besides Max batted an eye at his nickname for the woman. Reid caught Cassie's confusion. A cautious smile paired with a tilt of her head led him to notifying her with two fingers half raised. "Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst." Cassie nodded. "Your oracle, yeah?" She'd murmur back to him. He didn't quite catch the reference. She didn't get a chance to explain it.

  "Philly PD confirmed that Carla Bromwell's been dead less than twelve hours. She was forty-seven years old." Hotch and Morgan glanced between each other. "That's odd." 

  "Their age range is older." 

  Elle cut in. "Why would the victimology change?" 

  "That's not the only odd thing, she was found tied with flex-cuffs, not ropes." Everyone was a puzzled as the next person. "That's all I have for you, PD is waiting for you at the crime scene." Morgan just nodded and waved her off with another unprofessional comment. "Thank you baby girl." 

  It wasn't easy to tell whether Cassandra's perplexed expression was due to the new information, or Morgan's choice words for his coworkers. Reid would once again offer some lighting. "It's sort of their thing." It wasn't a very good answer, but a relation like that, one that hadn't violated any rules yet, wasn't something she was able to comment too much on as the newbie. Instead she'd take the high road and sit back with a thick file of the former case findings. Unlike most others on the jet, she didn't spend her time researching other murderers and serial killers. It wasn't from a lack of care, more the opposite. Her former job hadn't been much different, albeit more physical. But she tired from surrounding herself with the worst humanity had to offer. She'd seen both sides of the spectrum, but the most heinous interactions often crossed her desk. If she had put any free time into it, she would have taken the plunge several years ago. 

  Instead of a refresher, this was her first time seeing the details. She'd have to put a good amount of effort into reading up on it. Everyone else was familiar enough. The seasoned veteran of this particular killer didn't seem to keen on the help, which only created another barrier.

  He wasn't stupid, and if Cassie could hear the way her newfound coworkers spoke about him, so could he. It wasn't anything unprofessional just voiced concerns. Cassie wondered if she had listened any longer when those same concerns would be made about herself. She didn't have the time to worry about some other's perception. The folder was thick, it smelled like freshly printed paper. Old records had been tracked down and republished, it beat searching up the initial documents. 

  She'd read over the whole thing twice before flipping back to the first police report and actually thinking about the words in front of her. By all accounts this new method of killing didn't seem to connect the previous offender. If it wasn't for the letter, nobody would have known. Which meant it was someone who wanted to do this, not someone who couldn't stop themselves. Which, Cassie had never found to be an accurate description of a murderer. She knew other profilers would classify that sort of person as an unwilling victim of their own urges. She liked to classify them as dead. But this was FBI, not the lawless land of the military. Blue jeans pressed against the back of leather seat covers, repositioning herself at the previous train of thought. 

  Why had he changed? It wasn't of his own accord, couldn't possibly be. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. Her tongue caught between her teeth, sounding off a sort of clicking noise.

————————————

  Carla Bromwell's home was filled to the brim. The news reporters and curious passerby's were enough to give Cassie a headache. The amount of detectives inside was another issue. She'd split off from the two most comforting figures to take a look at the body. Gideon and Elle were headed to the room as well. "Agents Gideon, Greenaway, and Lorayne." The department detective raised a brow, but he wasn't given time to push the subject matter when Max came into the room.  

  "I was wondering when you'd show up." 

  Cassie didn't listen to the rest of their conversation. She might have been interrupting something when she spoke. "It's been processed?" A simple nod was all that she'd need. Kneeling down near the body, Cassie would carefully move her wrists and neck. The photos were an obvious indication that this was a different methodology. Elle took over, repeating Cassie's steps. Maybe it was out of distrust. Maybe it was out of morbid curiosity. "There's no bruising." 

  "The note said 'no fight'." Cassie tilted her gaze up towards Elle. Who was currently distracted with something else. From the looks of it, one could only assume it was whatever Max had said. Bad first impressions, but Cassie was struggling to really care about how the older man felt about all of this. Her scrutiny wasn't solely just from blaming him, more so his attitude. She didn't like it. Which wasn't actually saying much given she didn't like a lot of things. 

  Gideon broke the tense silence. "The wound is extensive, it's violent, he's escalating." Elle went on a sort of goose hunt after that. Not that Cassie would have done any differently, but she just wouldn't have said it out-loud. Her ability to work with others wasn't nonexistent, yet it did need an update to the manual. 

  "Elle's good at this sort of thing Max." 

  "Never said she wasn't." 

  Leveraging herself with the nightstand, she'd use an arm to stand up and take a step back so Max could look at the body himself. There wasn't anything else the could learn from it without the forensics report. Ryan pressed a padded finger against the woman's clothes. "I haven't felt like this around a dead body in a long time." 

  Cassie didn't need to hear anymore. He was taking it too personally. The former MP was no saint, she had her fair share of cases that she wore too openly on her sleeve. She had grown since then, to some extent. And in the areas that she hadn't, she kept hidden.

  As she was stepping out, Reid, Hotch, Elle, and Morgan were all coming back. Hotchner had a paper in his gloved hands. It didn't take a genius to guess what it was. 

  "In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present." Max had taken the note, intent on reading it with his own eyes. The note offered two more context clues, a quote from Max's book, and the promise of a gift in two days. It was all an attempt at riling the former agent up. The unsub was targeting him specifically. Either a grotesque fascination or the perfect means of getting him worked up. An on edge agent is an agent who can't do his job. It was working. 

  They weren't going to find anymore than that. The behavioral team led themselves outside, only to be greeted by more angry reporters and microphones in their face. Cassie weaved through the crowd and dodged into the closest car available to her. A black sedan with tinted windows, a rental, something for the team to use. The department was the next agreed upon stop, from there everyone had done just about the same as her. 

  Unluckily enough she had managed to pick the one vehicle that Morgan was driving. The leather smelt of some bad cleaning agent and the air was humid inside the van. Getting comfortable seemed impossible so she'd opted for the self meditating movements of pressing down overgrown cuticles with her thumb. 

  "So," 

  She turned her head, her eyes lagging behind in the motion of facing him. 

  "So?" 

  "First day." 

   The car stalled to stop. Someone was taking too long to turn. 

  "Yep." 

  "That's all? No questions, comments, concerns? No issues?"

  Cassie's light brown brows furrowed. "Should there be?" 

  "No." 

  "Then, no." 

   There was silence again. The conversation was over. 

  "But," 

   Until it wasn't. 

   "Most aren't as enthusiastic to touch a body on their first day." 

  "CSI had already done what they needed to. I didn't see anything wrong with it." 

  Morgan let out an odd half-laugh, half-cough. "Again, I meant as enthusiastic." He'd tilt his head to the side, still facing forward as he spoke. His eyes never left the road ahead, but he made up for that with other movements. Every time he spoke his right pointer and middle finger would spread off of the wheel and point to who knows what. His right thumb tapped against the leather cover. 

  "I wasn't enthusiastic." 

  Her nose would crease with the rest of her face. An extended proof of her dissatisfaction over the comment, as if the quick change in tone wasn't enough. 

  "It was the first thing you did." 

  "But it's not my first time." 

  She watched as his bottom lip tucked under his front teeth. 

  "What did you do before joining the BAU?" 

  "You don't know?" 

  "I wouldn't ask if I did." 

  "This. Homicide investigation. We were all profilers, and detectives, and the law." 

  "Military?" 

  "Yeah. Aaron didn't say anything?" 

  "Didn't get the time to." 

  "Right." 

  There was no more talking after that. Further into the city streets Morgan would trade his hand motions for a thin pursing of his lips. Traffic was entertaining enough to drop any other questions he had. Or, Cassie just wasn't.

  There was no time wasted between parking the rental and meeting with the other timely members of the unit. They made their way inside the sand colored building and pretty quickly they had the entire department working with them. Cassie would take a few steps towards the back, as though she were yet another officer these agents were preaching to. It wasn't only due to her new rank on the totem pole with the team. She was also a little jarred by how quickly they where to adhere to policy and comply. Then again, this was the bureaucratic process, not the militaristic. 

  Hotch lead the beginning of the profile, as he went on the others bounced off of him. They were a real unit. Real as hers used to be. Most likely better. 

  "Over the last two decades, our killer has changed. The age of his victims is more notable." 

  The head detective on the case shrugged his shoulders. "The keystone killer is older, his victims are older too. So?" 

  "Most killers have specific fantasies they act out through their violence. These people fall under an identifiable few categories. He liked young brunettes." 

  "And that means?" 

  Back to the BAU members, they worked fairly seamlessly. There was no indication of a turn, however nobody attempted to speak over the younger Dr. when he chimed in. A commentary on Ted Bundy. Cassie only hoped he was brought up due to his known name, and not some weird fascination. Reid would go on to explain even Bundy had a type, a type that when he started to neglect, lead to his ultimate capture. In the same vain, it lead to more violence. 

  Gideon raised both palms at an angle. "It could be a sign that he's devolving." As though there was some invisible speaking baton being passed between the group, their statements moved from one to another. First with Morgan. "Which could mean he's about to slip up. Though, the devolution theory is just that, a theory, we can't rely on it." 

  "If he is in a frenzy," Hotch interjected, taking the mantle of the conversation again. "We can't tell how fast he'll continue to devolve." 

  "Or how many more victims he'll take before he's finished." Gideon curled his mouth inward. 

  "So, in order to keep that number as low as we can, we need to go over everything. Everything we learned eighteen years ago, everything we got today." 

  The oldest of the BAU leaned back against a whiteboard covered wall. He steepled his fingers together. "We'll start with the older profile, Max," The latter turned away, shaking his head and waving the former off. Gideon sent a look towards Hotch, who cast it over to Cassie. Her eyes went wide, then they scrunched up. Russet colored lips pursed before a curtly nod was offered. 

  "Right the..." She thought, frowned, then continued speaking. "We're looking for a man in his forties now, white. He's thoughtful, meticulous. His former means of killing suggests a law enforcement or military background. Most likely he's stayed in the same area all of his life." Had she been speaking too much? She passed the proverbial stick with a look of confusion. Tossing it's invisible form into the air and hoping for the best.

  Elle would come to the rescue. Then Morgan, then Reid, and back to Hotch for a closing statement. Gideon had meandered off after Max. At least, that was the most likely scenario. She couldn't really see the stern faced agent walking off just because he didn't want to present in front of the class anymore. 

  If he had, she wouldn't have judged. Her own presentation of the profile left a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't used to this way of phrasing it. It felt clunky, unnecessary. She looked for evidence and facts, not probability. A profile wasn't unheard of in her investigative unit, but it wasn't relied on in the way it was here. Psychology was one thing, making up a killer in your mind was another. She was still skeptical. Openly so when she had been interviewed for the position. They felt her stance was a fresh look. She felt it was a pity situation. 

  After wrapping up the main idea, Hotch gestured for the team to follow him to a carved out space for them. The blinds were up, leaving the goings on inside of the room visible to everyone. Cassie didn't mind. The openness felt fresh. The sun could peak in through the windows. Her old office had been without windows, the light fixtures were bleary, the paint job reminiscent of a filing cabinet covered in dust. She much preferred it here. 

  She appreciated the two whiteboards. Even if it made the room more cramped, it allowed the youngest of the group to visualize his musings. In her past, she would have just strewn papers about her desk and hoped for the best. That seemed viable here too, but with so many members it might have gotten overwhelming. She glanced down at the wooden fixture. It already was.  

  "We should focus on the differences between the crimes, what's he doing that's new?" Hotch breezed past the group, yet another Manila folder in his hands.

  Elle, Hotch, and Morgan opted to sit around the table. Reid stood, phasing in and out of his own little world when the conversation required it. Gideon was beside him, he put more of his eggs in the basket of the exchange. The self-certified genius was good at balancing them between the two. Cassie was comfortable standing as well, just on the other side of the room. "The victim was hit in the head, so that's one." Derek leaned back against his seat. "The note mentioned she didn't put up a fight, so why feel the need to hit her? To show dominance?" 

  Hotch shook his head. It didn't make sense. "He never needed to before." Elle thrummed her fingers along a photo of the crime scene. "But a hit like that wouldn't just scare her, it would knock her out." 

  "—To control her better." The head of the group finished.  

  Cassie's gaze flicked between each speaker, landing on Gideon as he found interest in the abyss. He stared towards a photo, but his head seemed somewhere else. "He switched from a knot, his signature, to flex-cufs." 

  "They're easier, it saved him time." Morgan kept his eyes on Gideon. He'd turn his head over his shoulders to catch Cassie's eye when he finished speaking. 

  "No, no, it's not that. The knot was intimate. It wasn't about the ease of immobilizing her. He chose a completely unnecessary approach." 

  "Maybe we should just forget about this, seriously. It's not helping us to go over what others already knew. Let's pretend he's a new offender." 

  The glass was cool against her arms, she'd trade her hands for her biceps when pushing off of the wall to step forward. A little brazenly, she let a few fingers fall to the head of Morgan's chair, pressing down and holding on as a sort of cane for her posture. "That's the problem, he's still the same person he was. We can't mull over what happened in the past, but we can certainly compare it to the future. He went from intimate, slow, methodical killings. He played out his fantasy with full physical control. So he traded it, for what? A smack to the head and a heavy lidded girl. He can't watch himself take the life from her eyes anymore. Where's the 'fun' in that." Cassie sucked in a breath through her teeth during her commentary. She let it go quickly as she ended. 

  "What I'm saying is—" 

  "—Guys, I have a name." All eyes moved from Cassie to Reid. She lifted her hand off of Morgan's chair and crossed her arms. Her hip dropped at an angle and she balanced more weight on her left leg. 

  "Nibrahs? What is that?" Reid bit the inner left part of his cheek at Elle's question. "It's backwards, S. Harbin. He was an original suspect." 

  "It's not him."  

  Max had finally made his entrance. He brushed off the conclusion, claiming Scott Harbin, S., had been in jail for stabbing someone. Sentenced thirty years, which meant there was no way it was him.

  "Unless he's out on parole." 

  Max didn't seem to keen on the notion. "He's a pervert and a small time thief, he steals undergarments. I interviewed him, twice, he's no killer." There were a few exchanged looks. Morgan picked up his phone and nodded in Hotch's direction, who returned it with a nod of his own. "I'm going to call Garcia, see if she can find anything about him." 

  Max raised his voice, adamant that they were being lead down a dead end. A second wave of looks. Silence. Morgan left. 

  "Jason why are we here?" 

  "Hm?" 

  "Are we here to catch him, or just prove to Max he knows more than us?" 

  Nobody answered, because the only one who could had left. The four remaining didn't have a chance to pick up where Cassie had left off. Derek came back in with a shit-eating grin and a notecard with scribbles on it. 

  "We've got an address for Scott Harbin. He was paroled three months ago, missed his last hearing." 

  "That makes him a wanted man." Elle was already out of her seat, pulling her brown jacket over her shoulders. 

  Leaving the station house required a bit more than a few rental and squad cars. Priorities were higher, everyone was banking on the fact that this was supposed to be their guy. A killer to be put away. It still felt too easy. However, a dead end still pointed you to a different direction. They'd be negligent not to take it. No matter what was about to meet them on the other side. 

————————————

  They'd been banking on the fact that this was their Keystone Killer, SWAT was going to be involved one way or another. It took a few extra moments to get their group in the door after the men in black. They took a more defensive stance and let the first three members of the BAU past. Elle and Cassie were at the forefront, the presence sent a silent figure to dart from behind a cabinet. 

  "Don't move— Hey!" 

  Elle practically vaulted past Cassie towards the man, grabbing him by his shoulder and sending a swift kick to the back of his leg. He stumbled over and she applied her weight to his back to apprehend him. "Are you Scott Harbin?" Cassie felt a hand on her shoulder, and instinctively she moved out of the way. Max looked down at the man being detained. "That's him." 

  "Nice to see you too Ryan." He'd smile up from his cuffed position. Cassie's brows met in the space between her eyes and tilted upwards. "You missed a parole hearing." Gideon commented. It was just an excuse, they had no reason to be here. They had no real evidence. A lawyer could dismiss his name in the riddle easily. But, an excuse bought them time and a search warrant. 

  The agents wandered through his home, picking up what they could just based on his arrangements. He was organized, neat, obsessively so. He needed constant control over every aspect of his life. It made a good argument. Cassie didn't like the feeling of it, though. She stood in front of him, her hands resting on her hips. Her expression gave a lot more away than just a train of thought. She bounced from theory to theory. Moss colored iris' scanned his form. Even going so far as to move behind him from where he sat in the arm of his couch. She couldn't see any injury to his hands. Nothing of note about his posture or physical capabilities. He moved his fingers back and forth, a squeezing motion, an attempt at self soothing. She didn't think this was the guy. As much of a creep as he was. 

  He looked out of the corner of his eye at her. "You finished checking me out?" Cassie locked eyes with him, nothing but disinterest on her face. She wasn't going to say anything, even if she was she wouldn't have had the chance. Elle made her way over, almost gesturing for Cassie to take a position behind her. The two were about the same height, maybe Elle had an inch or two on her. Cass was a little better built physically. Not a hulking mass of muscle, but you could see the beginning of a tone through her short sleeved shirt. She'd take the offer anyway and step around the two. Elle was leaning over in Scott's face, her eyes wide with something beyond disinterest. Fury maybe. "Did she upset you? Make you angry? What? You're fantasizing about hurting her, me? No, no you wouldn't do that. What's the matter Harbin, can't handle a woman who isn't afraid of you?" 

  Scott licked his lips. A sign of enjoyment, a sign of stress, it wasn't enough to tell just from the movement alone. Agitated, probably. 

  Gideon pulled Elle aside. Cassie didn't want to listen. She moved on from the room and up the stairs to the second floor of the home. A few SWAT agents still roamed, but she mostly watched as Morgan and Hotch moved back and forth. They stopped in the entrance of a room for a second. She waited, too many cooks in the kitchen. She wasn't needed anywhere right now. 

  "We need some help in here! Get an ambulance, now!" Morgan's voice was like an alarm bell ringing, everyone throughout the home heard it. Someone called out a response and raced down the steps past her. She was moving with similar urgency in the opposite direction. She was tall enough to see over their hunched forms, Hotchner and Morgan crouched near a woman. Her mouth had been taped shut, her feet tied at the ankles. She was wrapped in some sort of plastic. Awkwardly, Cassie shouldered Morgan to push him out of the way. She wormed herself between the two and pulled out a knife from her back pocket. Carefully she tilted the sharper side of the blade up towards the ceiling and worked it under the plastic. It took a bit of leveraging and gentle 'It's okay, you're okay, its okay' to get the knife to pierce the solution. Once she had it torn enough she moved to pull a blanket off of the bed above them. Hotch helped to cover the exposed woman as Cassie cut, leaving no room for any extended embarrassment. 

  The woman wasn't harmed besides a few bruises on her hips and thighs. That was good enough for Cassie. Once she finished peeling back the last of what was on top, she switched positions with Hotchner and pressed a hand against the woman's cheek. There were too many sounds, too many questions, too many voices, Cassie only focused on the lady's sobs. She did her best to murmur those same former phrases over and over again.

  What felt like far too long of a time later, EMTs came into the room and pushed the three aside. Hotch left the building first, his cellphone indicating his attention was needed elsewhere are the moment. Morgan got out of their way, heading down the steps to reconvene with Gideon, Elle, and Max. Cassie stayed, she stayed until they were putting the victim on a stretcher and carrying her down the steps. She helped at the transfer point, holding the right corner of the stretcher near her head. She hadn't repeated her mantras in a while, the EMTs had picked up the slack for her. Once they could begin to wheel her out, the profiler let them go. 

  Philly PD wanted to be the ones to make the arrest. It looked better to the news reporters already gathering outside. Cass could only hope they had enough sense to not photograph the victim as she was being taken away, but she wasn't ignorant. 

  "It doesn't make any sense, he was a small time creep." Max let out a breath as he spoke. Gideon blinked. "He fits your profile, the age, the background, the obsessive traits." 

  "Still—" 

  "Guys." Cass pulled a slip of paper out of the wipers of one of the rental cars. "It's.. for you," She passed it to Max.

Isn't Scott an inelegant monster. He harbors no light. He is pure evil. Balance is what produces mercy. You'll be reminded of my mercy tomorrow. 

K.K.

  "We didn't get him?" Everyone had started to gather now. The pause was enough to spark concern. Morgan spoke first, Gideon answered. Max was too stuck in his head, going over everything yet again. He was reliving the chase from eighteen years ago. It wasn't pretty. "He's not the one we're looking for. Form a six block perimeter, we have to have seen him." 

  But they hadn't. Nobody had. He had been right outside, waiting for the exact moment the police would file in like ducks after their mother. He had slipped off without anyone the wiser. The atmosphere on the way back was bleak. Everyone shared a similar sentiment of frustration. Cassie couldn't feel proud of her observations from earlier, it had only served to get off the sick freak who was orchestrating all of this. It sentenced another victim to a worse fate. The BAU's methods made her feel stagnant, like she had no more control over what was about to happen than a leaf did over the way the winds blow. 

  "That's got to be a first for the BAU, a killer leading us to another." Hotch commented as the made their way back to the little room they were given for mediation. "No, we all know they make the best profilers, it's how they find their own victims. It's how they think they can get away with it." The oldest would correct.

  "So we're starting over. Run by it again, what do we know about the Keystone Killer?" 

 "He's not dead, or in jail." 

 "He likes playing with us, he's treating it like a game where he's controlling all of the pieces." Elle raised her head as she spoke. Then Morgan, then Reid. 

 "He strangled seven women in the late eighties, stopped for eighteen years, then picked it back up again. Only this time he chose to suffocate them. Ten percent of violent crimes are carried out through strangulation, it only takes eleven pounds to incapacitate a person. Hanging on for a minute longer and that person will never recover." The skinny kid's ramblings weren't bad. Cassie could admire them for what they were worth. He was smart. Probably smarter than she'd ever be. The only difference was he learned his facts through textbook, and she earned hers through practice. 

  "But, he suffocated his latest victim. It's actually more passive than strangulation. What Lorayne was saying earlier, he can't feel the life leave the body." Aaron reaffirmed. 

  "But why? Why, why, why? Why change his MO, it suggests a blitz attack, yet in the past he walks right into his victim's homes without so much as a struggle." 

  Cassie's face lit up, her expression almost elongating in a moment of realization. She had never finished her train of thought from before. They had been so distracted with Scott Harbin that she had just forgotten nobody else was thinking the same as she was. 

  "We keep talking about this as though he's doing it on purpose, but what if it's not. What if something happened that stopped him. A sole loss of confidence isn't enough for such a drastic change. He lost his confidence in his own abilities, not his means of killing. A few years ago I was on a case that involved a serial murderer, similarly to this guy's MO. Maybe a little less showy— in any case, he started to slip up when he changed. And he only changed because he had been in a supply moving accident. Lost all control of his dominate hand. Couldn't kill the way he wanted to. He found another way, but it was sloppy, witnesses were around, we caught him." 

  Morgan leaned against the wall where Cassie had once stood. "So it's an injury?" 

  "Or a stroke." Hotch looked to Reid, who shrugged his shoulders in response. 

  "Either one, there will have to be some sort of medical records, right?" Derek didn't really agree with Gideon. "Alright, so an accident after nineteen eighty-eight in Philidelphia, that doesn't lower our suspect pool by much at all." 

  "It's too many hospital records." Spencer finally answered. 

  "Call Garcia anyways, see what she can find." Pointing towards the exit, Gideon gestured to Morgan. 

  It took a few minutes for Morgan to return, he had a slanted smile. Not good, not bad. "There's a lot of records to go through. Garcia's having them sent over now." 

  Hotch moved towards the fax machine as it sounded off, indicating the first few pages. "Let's get started then." He'd grab a couple, pass them around, and repeat until everyone had a handful. Cassie still didn't sit with her pile, she'd let it sit off on the top of a cabinet next to her while she looked through whatever her current file was. 

  Morgan tossed down a few papers, a frown on his dark lips. "We're looking for a guy in his twenties, is that too early for a stroke?" 

  "I still think it's a possibility. We're looking for a fair amount of loss of mobility." Aaron didn't look up from his stack. Reid did however, happily explaining the statistics around strokes. Something or other, Cassie brushed it off with a laugh that sounded more from her nose than it did her mouth. 

  "Hm?" 

  Reid was staring at her now. So was Hotch and Morgan. She shook her head, biting the inner flesh of her cheek as she did so. They all went back to their own files.  

  Twenty-five minutes in and it felt a little hopeless. The records Garcia had given didn't narrow it down at all. Sure a few names were marked off, but then again too many to count were added. "This is taking too long. Just for a moment let's rule out strokes, what's something else that could have happened?" Cassie mimicked Morgan's earlier frustrated motion and tossed her papers down. 

  "A car accident would have to be filed in police records, especially if it resulted in injury, right?" Spencer tried to pick up where she was leaving off. Gideon and Max nodded. 

  "Back then we profiled him to have some sort of American-made sedan." 

  "Alright, then why don't I call Garcia back, have her cross reference sedan accidents with Philly PD records. That should narrow it down significantly with what we've established." 

  "It's a long shot." Ryan seemed on the verge of rolling his eyes at Morgan, a slip of a few words from Cassie halted that means of response. "It's better than nothing." 

  For the third time that day, Morgan would return from his little 'chat' with Garcia. Only this time he seemed a lot more proud of himself. "'Think I've got something; Walter Kern, fits our age range, military background. ROTC, Air Force, his accident happened right outside of Bromwell's address." 

  He passed the already printed document around. Cassie skimmed over it. He certainly looked like the type. "In his accident he lost mobility of his right side due to spinal cord and nerve damage." Veiny hands rolled up dove-white sleeves as he spoke. 

  Cassie watched as the invisible stick returned to the playing field. It was Hotch's turn. "He installed home alarms with, guess who, Scott Harbin." 

  She sought to grab it before it was taken by someone else. "That's how he could walk right in to his victim's home without issue." And as quickly as she had it, it was taken by Elle. Tapping her pencil against the paper, she'd flick it back and forth with her ring finger. "He got his major in criminology. Shows to how he was able to evade law enforcement." 

  And from Elle to Gideon, "Do we have an address?" 

  "575 Wight Street Southeast Philadelphia. Got you, you son of a bitch." 

  That was probably the first time Max had smiled in the day that Cass had known him. There was no time to mull over it, once again the team was up and moving. SWAT was hesitant, they had failed to catch him the first time, leniency wasn't on their side. Neither was the press. 

 Cass was stuck with Morgan again, Reid too, though he kept to himself in the back of the car. 

  "You were right." 

  Again she was stolen from her thoughts by the brawny driver. 

  "Is that shocking?" 

  "Well, not when you phrase it like that. I was trying to compliment you, you know." 

  "Oh."

  "That's it?" 

  "No, I was trying to think of something to reference that you would understand." 

  "Like?" 

  "A philosophical quote, nothing good came to mind. That's not exactly my thing." 

  Reid was about to say something and Morgan had that look in his eyes through the rear view mirror, something that screamed break-check. Reid no longer had anything to say. 

  "What is your thing then." 

  "Nothing really. Oh, I guess something along the lines of I'm the Chandler to your Phoebe, though that's a bit of a stretch. I only watched a few— Nevermind." 

  Morgan gave a dumbfounded look, but didn't press the issue. There were bigger problems than whatever Cassie got up to in her limited free-time.  

  Gideon and Max took the lead on the entry of the home this time. It was almost deserved.

  They knocked once. 

  No answer. 

  Twice. 

  No answer. 

  It was bordering on three when the door finally swung open. A woman in her later fourties' answered, she had short brown hair and a tired face. Makeup, jewelry, her clothes were ironed. Cassie's nose crinkled. 

  "This is agent Ryan with the FBI, we need to speak with your husband." The woman quickly looked away. She was sheepish, confused. She'd stutter out a response to Gideon. "He's not here." 

  "Do you know where he is?" 

  "Well, I," 

  "Why don't you let us inside?" 

  She stuttered, again, failing to form any coherent sentence. She'd nod anyways and the team followed inside. His wife said something about volunteering at a community center. Gideon notified Hotch, to which Cassie gently pressed her fingers to his raised elbow. He looked at her, doe-like eyes squinting in confusion. She took a step back and mumbled. "Don't send everyone there. He's still intent on giving us that 'gift'." Jason looked her up and down once, then complied without saying anything in response to her. 

  Max had let the reason they were there slip, the murders, the seven victims. 

  "I'm going to have to ask you to leave, please." She didn't take very kindly to the notion. Then again no good person would. "What you're suggesting is absurd, and," 

  "—I don't think you believe that Mrs. Kern." Cassie took a step closer to the woman. She was taller than her. Height helped in most cases she had been on before. 

  "Excuse me?" 

  "I don't think you believe that your husband has nothing to do with this. You're dressed awfully nice, he likes you that way doesn't he. Modest, untouchable. Though, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that last part isn't true." 

  "Lorayne," Gideon warned. She should have listened, should have stopped talking. This was her first day, her first case, she had everything to lose. And yet so did an innocent girl. 

  "I'm guessing he has a space in the house, a room, an area, a closet, a chest youre not supposed to touch. Don't look inside of, don't even think about. If you did, Walter would get angry, wouldn't he?" 

  The wife took a step back. Cassie took a step forward. She looked anywhere but the agent's face. "He has a photo-room, but he only worries that I'll mess up his pictures. That's all." 

 "Eighteen years ago you noticed your husband fell into a depression, it seemed like it would never end. Maybe he was more irritable. You were thankful on one hand, he couldn't hit you if he wanted to. But he wasn't the same. Just a few days ago he returned back to his old self, for better and for worse." 

  "How do... no, what does it mean? Did he..?" Cass blew a quick puff of air out of her nose and stepped off to the side. She had said all she needed to. 

  "We need to see that room Mrs. Kern." She didn't miss the way Gideon followed her with a grim expression as he spoke. 

  SWAT was the first to clear the cellar on the left side of their home. It was cold, but well kept even from a quick glance at the stairway. Heading further into it lead to a room covered in photos, newspapers, anything relating to the case. He had a copy of the book Max had written about his experiences as an agent. He was a textbook stalker. Countless photos of past and present victims framed the steel-toned stone. 

  Reid flipped through a scrapbook looking binder. A collection of his killings, a story. There was a chapter missing, like he had referenced in his notes before. He wasn't finished, he had only killed Carla now because he had planned to kill her before. His accident had stopped him. It explained the extended depression. His fix wasn't just the killings, it was the perfection behind them. The consistent evasion, the methodology. 

  "Who's in the latest chapter then?" 

  "Sylvia Gooden." 

  Gideon stepped back into the room, he looked down at the image of the woman. "Hotch confirmed Walter left the community center an hour ago. We need Gooden's address." 

  Thankfully, for as much as a memorabilia fanatic he was, he included everything there was about these women. Including addresses. 

  The team was on the new sight as fast as possible, SWAT and Philly PD were right on their heels. It didn't take longer than a handful of seconds for them to be suited up and ready. Gideon confirmed Walter's vehicle was a block down the street. Preparations to go in were moving fast. Max raised his voice so the crowd of people could hear him. 

  "I want him taken in alive." 

  Which as fun as that sentiment was, it wasn't always a good one. They didn't have a clue what state they'd find Kern or Gooden in. Her life may come down to his. And while rotting in prison before his sentence was earned was the best possible outcome, Max needed to grapple with the fact he might not see satisfaction. 

  The blur of guns and combat boots breezed through the main doorway. Clearing each room was impertinent, and so was following the screams they could hear from Sylvia above. Gideon lead, followed by Morgan, Max, and Cass. Gideon trained his gun eye level before pushing open the door. There must have been eight voices, all yelling some different version of the same thing; 'Don't Move.'  

  Morgan detained Kern. He'd purposefully bash his side off of a full length mirror. A feasible accident excuse would work just fine. Cass made out the hand off to Max from behind her. Kern spoke of the former agent like some star crossed lover. She tried not to pay too much attention to it. 

  Currently calloused fingers were preoccupied in removing the plastic from Sylvia's face. She brushed her thumb against the older woman's forehead, checking to make sure the blood that was leaking was also clotting. It had already started to dry, she hadn't been hit too badly. Most likely because she had struggled too much for Kern's liking. 

  "Shh.. shh.. it's okay, you're okay. My name is Cassandra Lorayne, alright Miss Gooden? You're not hurt anywhere else, right?" 

  The blonde woman shook her head. Her body was trembling. She was sweating, her skin was clammy. It was taking her a bit longer to get the words out of her sob choked throat. Cassie didn't rush her. She'd repeat what she had done with the previous victim hours earlier. A gentle seesawing motion of her knife and the flex-cuffs were off.

  "Breathe with me Miss Gooden." 

  She was sitting up now, her shoulders heaving with another heavy cry. Cassie moved from her kneeling position to sit beside her. She pulled the woman closer and sheltered her within her arms. "You're okay, it's over now, you're okay." And she'd repeat those words for as long as she could. As long as it took for them to feel real. 

————————————

   Cassie was still getting accustomed to the whole private jet thing. It felt too classy, even if half the participants aboard had already slipped off their shoes and curled up under a blanket. Sometime she'd have to find wherever that stash of linens was. Though, for now, she was preparing herself for an earful. Gideon was moving from his seat to her end of the plane. He was at least kind enough to ensure the only one listening was Elle. To which Cassie couldn't mind too much, she felt a sort of solidarity in their methods, so hopefully the other brunette wouldn't be too abrasive in the aftermath of her scolding. 

  "You really think he beat her?" 

  "What?" 

  She had always been told to never play poker. Which was a sad comment given she was actually great at the game, just not great at her expressions. She could hold out in situations that called for a stern, unwavering face. But right here, right now, she was too wound up to keep her feelings to herself. Crinkled features gave a pretty good indication that she was absolutely taken aback. 

  "I asked a question Lorayne." 

  "Err, honestly? No. She didn't give away all of the signs, just some. Some is enough to incite a thought, and a thought is enough to be a fear. Even if he hadn't, she had rationalized that he could. Or, would, if she crossed a certain line." 

  "Alright." 

  "Alright?" 

  Gideon turned to sit down, he was done with the conversation. She'd outstretch a hand to say something else, but recoiled and changed her mind. 

  JJ had an open seat across from her, and Cassie would find comfort in the openness that followed.  

  "Have any of you been told about the time that Gideon was tricked into. . ." 

  So, this was her new home. For lack of a better phrase. It would take some time to fit in, and more effort still. Though, Cassie was able to let go of her fear for just a moment. It was the first time that day she had stopped thinking about the past, and hoped for the future. 

 ———————————— 

Date Posted: 04/24/24  

Not Yet Proofread, too lazy :(.

Next Chapter: 05/02/24

[house-of-slayterr]

Family Affairs:

Hannibal Family Pt. 9: @iloveslasher @charliedawn

Hannibal’s POV:

It had been a few weeks since I started hypnosis therapy on Newt, and things were going well. They seemed happy, and Peter was more than happy. In fact, this was probably the happiest I’d seen him in a while. His anxiety had decreased significantly. He still stuttered quite a bit, but he didn’t fidget as much. Almost always holding Newt’s hand.

I was a tad worried about the Codependency issue that was rearing it’s head, and so was Morgan. Morgan took family a little more seriously than Kevin did, and therefore was fiercely protective. He’d check in on them when they were at home. Even though I assured him it was unnecessary.

Today was a rare day, visitation day with Hannibal Sr. Everyone was already downstairs for breakfast except for the youngest two.

“Late for breakfast again.” Morgan commented .

I chuckled under my breath, preparing the tofu scramble for the others.

“I bet they’re canoodling.”

“Kevin, don’t be crude.”

Kevin rolled his eyes and as punishment I made him set the table.

“You have to be on your best behaviour today, we’re visiting your father.”

“What are we doing with the kid?” Morgan asked curiously.

“They’re coming with us. Hannibal will want to meet them. Since they live here now. I’m sure he won’t be to pleased that I didn’t talk to him first, but he did put me in charge while he’s in prison.” I explained calmly.

Kevin snickered under his breath. I could tell the boy was going to be a handful today. He grew antsy when he didn’t kill for too long. It was like an impulse he couldn’t control. To break up the conversation, Peter finally came down.

“You’re late.” I stated simply.

“Sorry-“ he began.

“Sorry Hannibal, it was my fault, couldn’t find a sweater to wear this morning and I asked Peter for his help.” Newt jumped in to his rescue.

Something they did a lot, when they thought he was in trouble. They sheltered him in a way. As if they were scared to disappoint him.

“And you settled on that?” Kevin asked.

They frowned.

“My sister gave me this sweater.” They frowned.

Morgan’s head perked up at that. We were all thinking the same thing.

“Sister?” He asked.

They nodded.

“Before she left for college she gave me some of her old clothes.”

“You’ve never spoken about her before.” I said, placing the food down before them.

“You never asked.”

“I didn’t know about her either” Peter said defeated.

“I can tell you guys about her if you want. I didn’t think any of you would care.” They said honestly.

“Only if you wish to my dear.”

They shrugged.

“I’d rather hear about Hannibal Sr. You said we’re going to visit him today right?”

“Yes, and what did I tell you?”

“Stay behind you, be quiet, only speak when spoken to, and be polite.” The reiterated.

“Good.”

“Are you scared?” Kevin tried to rile them up.

“Why would I be?”

“Because he’s an evil murderous Cannibal.” Kevin spoke.

I rolled my eyes at his antics. Newt blinked, starring at him. Well, not staring, they always avoided eye contact, but they starred in his general direction.

“So- so are you, Kevin. Kevin did you forget what you’re eating right now? I’m not stupid, I know that why Hannibal always gives me Peter’s food.” They said.

Kevin chuckled darkly, apparently achieving what he was aiming for with that comment.

“Unless you’re suggesting your Father is going to break out of prison and eat me, I don’t understand why I should be concerned.”

“Who knows, maybe he will.”

Kevin shoved some breakfast sausage into his mouth, staring at them intently.

“Kevin, stop trying to scare the poor thing. It’s not going to work.” Morgan scolded his brother.

“Yeah, dad would never!” Peter chimed it.

“Kevin, I do hope you realise you’re not going to be rid of me that easily. Hannibal has expected me into this house, unless he kicks me out you’re kinda stuck with me.” They said.

I smiled at how kindly they referred to me. They’d grown to trust me more. And see this place as their home already. We just need Seniors approval of the young child. But I think they fit in perfectly with our messed up little family. Peter certainly enjoys no longer being the youngest.

“Kevin does somewhat have a point, you have to-“

“Be on my best behaviour. Yes, Hannibal, I know. I do listen when you talk. Unlike somebody” they glanced at Kevin.

I wasn’t too concerned, this is how Kevin acted with Peter when he first got here. Always pushing and testing, seeing if they’re worthy.

“I promise to show the utmost respect to your father. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that broke onto my face. I often thought Peter’s mannerisms where cute, being he was the shyest of all of us. But Newt was ten fold, adorable in a way that shouldn’t be possible for someone who’s witnessed the things they have.

“No needles.” Peter mumbled.

They rolled their eyes at him.

“Scaredy cat.” They joked.

The rest of breakfast went off without a hitch. Morgan Insisted on going ahead in his own car. Kevin, Newt and Peter rode with me. The car ride was silent, Kevin staring out the window, and Peter and Newt using their headphones to watch some sort of video in the back seat.

I looked through the review and could see Newt play with the end of their hair. A nervous tic they had. I offered them a small smile as they met my eyes in the mirror. They gave one in return. As we pulled up I put the car in park.

“Are you all ready to go in?”

Kevin gave me a shrug, Peter and Newt both nodded.They walked slowly behind Peter, holding onto his hand for comfort. Kevin made a noise of disgust and pushed past them to get ahead of us. I’m not sure why he was in such a mood today but I’d have to discuss it with him later. Things were going smoothly at first. We got all checked in, and I explained to the guards that Newt was family, so they should be added to the visitation registration.

I asked them to wait outside as I went in to greet Hannibal and Morgan. Peter rubbed his hand gentle against the back of their hand. Morgan seemed quite content with the alone time he got with his father, smiling brightly by the time I got there.

“Why hello Hannibal, father was just telling me about this new book he read.” Morgan greeted.

“Lovely.”

“Hello Jr. Morgan says you have news.” He said flatly.

“Yes. Morgan.” I said.

He got the cue to leave.

“Send the others in in about fifteen minuets.” I instructed.

He nodded and ducked out of the room, the guards quickly locking the doors again.

“Please do tell, you know how much I hate to waste time.”

“I know I’m supposed to run things by you, but there was a situation that needed to be handled and I didn’t have time to come to you first.”

“Oh?”

“We have a new family member, the paper work is still going through, but they will be a Lecter. Legally.”

“And you think they are worthy of such a title.”

“Yes, they’ve proven themself. Peter has taken a great liking to them and it would be cruel to separate them now.”

“And how is he, Peter. Still refusing to eat meat?”

“Yes. He still uncomfortable about it, he and Newt often eat together in his room for meal time.”

“Newt?”

“My apologies Father, the child I’ve adopted. Peter’s friend. Their name is Newt.”

“How peculiar. Have you brought them with you?”

“Of course, I wanted them to meet you. I felt it was important.”

“We’ll then, bring them in. That would make them my Grandchild would it not? The first.”

“As you wish.” I said.

They would be in soon with Morgan anyway. As the door opened, Kevin was the first to make it to us, eager as always to say hello. Then Morgan, and Peter and Newt trailed behind. Newt stayed firmly behind Peter, keeping their eyes on the ground. Hannibal said his hellos to everyone and stopped when he got to them.

“And who do we have here?” He asked.

They looked up, faltering slightly. Shifting on their feet nervously.

“Newt, Sir. It’s lovely to meet you.” They smiled.

They had a stray hair out of place that Peter was quick to fix for them.

“Step forward.”

They did so silently, still avoiding his gaze.

“Are you nervous child?” Hannibal asked, attempting to profile them.

“Hesitant, perhaps uneasy. But not nervous…”

Hannibal hummed, leaning closer to the glass.

“Closer.” He said.

They shook their head, standing their grand.

“I’m sorry Dr Lecter, but the guards said we’re not allowed to get close to the glass. I would not wish to get kicked out and cut your time with your children short. I think I’ll stay right here, thank you.” They spoke.

Their voice was clear and certain. Like a small creature who puffed up, to try to intimidate the predator.

“You’re avoiding eye contact.” He said simply.

“I do not like peoples eyes, Sir. They aren’t very kind, they’re quite confusing actually. Too many emotions to be discovered, people suck at hiding their eyes.”

I watched carefully, trying to gauge his interaction. He did at least seem intrigued, but I could tell he wasn’t a fan of how I went about things. But what could he do? He was in prison, life had to go on while he was locked up.

“May I talk to my new grandchild alone for a while?” Hannibal asked.

Morgan gave me a look of uncertainty, and Kevin simply smirked, patting them on the back with a “good luck” that meant nothing kind.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” I asked.

“Are you attempting to undermine my authority Jr?”

“No.”

“Good. I simply wish to get to know them better.”

I couldn’t tell if he was lying. I let out a sigh, turning to Newt.

“We’ll be right outside if you need anything, ok?”

They nodded. Peter seemed to struggle with the order, staying back for a moment.”

“It’s ok Petey, I got this.” They smiled at him.

He let go of their hand and followed me down the long hallway.

Newt’s POV:

I felt like a field mouse, in the open desert, surrounded by vultures. I could hear the sound of the other cell mates, making crude suggestions and hollering. I winced a little, wishing I could cover my ears. It was unsavoury, but I attempted to focus on Hannibal.

He was quite intimidating in person. Peter and told me many stories, and the fact that her rescued all of them meant he did have a heart. Even if it wasn’t as open as most people’s, it wouldn’t be impossible for me to find his. I watched as they all left, feeling suddenly aware of the lack of warmth from Peter no longer being at my side. I frowned.

“You’ve taken quite a liking to him.” Hannibal spoke.

It startled me, his voice was more commanding than his sons. He chuckled slightly at that.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Peter. You seem to like him the most.”

“Yes, he is my best friend. We do everything together.” I smiled.

“Everything?” He asked curiously.

I looked back at the cameras, knowing the guards were still watching.

“Most, everything.” I corrected.

“What is it you enjoy about his company?”

“He is kind, he was the first person to talk to me at school. And he’s protective, and funny. I remember the first time he tried to tell me a joke to cheer me up. It didn’t go so well. What is it that you like about him?” I chuckled.

“Are you asking what I like about my own child?”

“I suppose I am Dr. Most parents claim to not have favorites, but you must have one, right?”

I watched as he simply stared for a second, contemplating. Reading me, just like they all did when they thought I wasn’t paying attention.

“No Dear, I love them all equally.”

“Then you must be a good father.”

Another momentary pause, as if he was deciding what approach to take.

“Do you not see where we are standing he asked?”

“If you’re insulting being in prison makes you a bad father, I would have to respectfully disagree Dr Lecter. Your children adore you, and look up to you. You make them feel safe and loved, they have a place they call home, and they all go to bed at night fed and for the most part happy. They were quite excited to come see you today, at least I know Peter was. If you were bad, they wouldn’t come visit you.” I explained.

“Quite the perceptive little thing aren’t you?” He chuckled darkly. “I see why my eldest has taken a liking to you. You remind me of that friend of his, Will, I believe his name is.”

“I’m not sure how to take that Sir, but I will assume it was a compliment. So thank you. May I ask you a question?”

He nodded as if to tell me to go ahead.

“What do you do for fun in here? It must be lonely.”

“That sounds like two questions my dear.”

“No, I believe it was a question and a statement.”

“Believe?”

“My apologises, I know.”

“That’s better. You should honestly work on your confidence if you’re going to be a Lecter.”

“Noted.”

“But to answer your question, I read.”

“Do you have any favorites?”

“Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, I suppose. I prefer longer works.”

I hummed in response. It felt awkward, standing so far away when I wanted to get closer. I wanted to know what Peter sees in him. To experience his aura, that was all wonky from this far back. It felt impersonal and distanced, which made me sad. This was no way to meet someone who meant so much to Peter and his family.

I absentmindedly took another step forward. My mind clouding with millions of questions that I didn’t want to bombard the older man with. Hannibal did ask me to be polite after all. Another step, until I was just inches from the glass. I hadn’t spoken a single word, lost in my own head.

“Carful Deary, you’re nearly touching the glass.” Dr Lecter’s voice was low and menacing.

A sound that sent a shiver down my spine. The way he was looking at me made me uneasy. But he was right, I had gotten closer, what was I thinking. At least the guards didn’t seem upset.

“Oh.” Was all I said. Then I remembered the book I had tucked in my cardigan. “Peter wanted me to give this too you.” I said.

I looked back at the camera as if to ask for permission, when nobody came in to stop me, I reached for the little draw lock on the side of his cell. I slid the book inside, and was about to close the draw so it was back on his side, when a hand grabbed mine, from the angle I was at, the camera wouldn’t be able to see him grab onto me. Clever. He didn’t speaking, simply turning my hand over in his and looking at it intently.

He seemed to take note of the marks that littered my wrists. He pressed into one of them, and I didn’t dare speak or make a noise. Of course I was a little scared, but I would be foolish to get their father into trouble. So I kept my mouth shut and watched his every movement. As he pressed deeper, his nail gentle broke the surface of my skin, a small bead of blood forming.

He finally dropped my hand and I pulled away, pushing the draw closed and backing up a few steps, looking at my wrist then back up at him. He grabbed the book with one hand, and brought the other hand, with a drop of my blood on it, up to his lips. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the taste.

“Thank you, Little Lamb” Was all he said.

He was gesturing to the book, but I could tell that wasn’t what he talked about. He must be starving. Of course he was, he was a cannibal locked up in prison, he hasn’t had human meat for a long time. I sort of felt bad for him. I gave him a simple nod, pulling my cardigan down to cover my slightly bleeding wrist.

“Perhaps I shall go retrieve Peter, he’ll want to hear you thank him for the book.”

I was quick to rush out of there, the unease of the whole situation setting in. I just went to prison to visit a cannibal, and was foolish enough to allow him to get a taste of my blood. What would the others say if I told them? Perhaps it was best they didn’t know. Especially Peter, he would flip.

Peter sprung up from the bench when he saw me.

“So, how did it go?” He asked.

“I think he likes me.” I said confused.

“Oh trust me, you would know if our father didn’t like you little dove.” Morgan spoke up.

I didn’t like the way he said that. I didn’t like anything about this place at all!

An: I’ll introduce the sister next chapter I guess, I wanted to add more drama to the story so, new character! Yay! I just gotta figure them out.

[the-karma-cafe]

arthur morgan x reader ("alllll my moneh")

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

based on Arthur's silly drunk line "I lost allllll my money... can I ... have *yours* laydey ?" yes arthur my babygirl you can have all of it

also fun hannibal reference cause i llove

“Bye Ernie!” I called over my shoulder. The man behind the bar smiled and waved as I left the saloon, the doors swinging shut behind me. I brushed my hands off on my dress and stepped down the first couple of steps, eager to head home and away from the drunkards of Valentine. The job was fun, sure, but more often than not-

“I lost allll my money...” A sad voice called out to me from the street.

I glanced over, confused. The man in the dirt street stared at me through unfocused eyes, his stance crumpled and wobbly. He seemed to be searching for something to lean on.

“Can…” he hiccuped, “Can I have yours… laadyy?” his southern drawl lengthened the word.

Despite having dealt with drunk men all evening, I smiled, tilting my head to the side. “You alright sweetie?” He looked like a lost puppy, and, unlike the other patrons of the saloon, he wasn’t saying anything untoward.

The man gave a dopey grin upon hearing my voice, stumbling forward. “M’yeah.” 

I paused, glancing around the street. He didn’t seem to have any buddies with him. I stepped towards him, my hands out and ready to catch him if he suddenly pitched forward. “Hope you don’t mind my sayin’, but you don’t look it.” I pursed my lips. “Where’re your friends, baby?” 

He shrugged and almost fell into me before catching himself a foot away. “Camp.” 

I furrowed my brow in worry. I couldn’t in good conscience let this poor drunken fool wander around the street at night—he was sure to get robbed. “You wanna tell me where that is so we can get you home, cowboy?” I gently touched his arm and he leaned towards the feeling, eyes closing and opening at random intervals. He nodded mutely. 

I went to guide him over to my horse before he wobbled out of my light hold and back into the street, shaking his head. “No! Nooo.... No I don’ wanna go to camp.”

I sighed. “You’ve gotta go somewhere, darlin’.” 

He tried to focus his eyes on my form. “Why you..” he shook his head, planting his feet. “Why d’you care?”

I gave him a pitying look. “I don’t know, mister, but just let me help.” I searched around the street, my eyes lighting on the hotel. I looked back at him, hoping my expression was as comforting and gentle as possible. “You want a room in the hotel instead?”

He eyed me for a beat, suspicious, before nodding and humming in acquiescence.

I held out my hand to stabilize him and he grabbed it instead. I blinked down at our intertwined hands. Not exactly what I had intended, but not… unwelcome. He was closer now, and I could see that he wasn’t like the drunkards I was used to. Much more handsome, and so far, much nicer as well. 

Before he could question why we hadn’t started moving, I guided him towards the hotel, fortunately only a couple doors down, and helped him up the steps and inside. 

The receptionist welcomed us in, noting our joined hands. He smiled knowingly. “Not too loud, now.” He joked. I flushed, stammering out an excuse about how that was not what it was like at all, before paying for and receiving a room key. 

The man with me kept his eyes on me the whole way up the stairs, making no move to help me get him up there. I huffed. He wasn’t a small man. 

We reached the top of the stairs and I dragged him into his room, closing the door behind us. “Alright, mister, let’s get you situated.” His weight was fully on my side and I had to remove my hand from his grip (notably difficult) and wrap my arm around him to keep him upright. I grunted, working my way towards the bed.

He turned and I felt a cool rush of air on my head. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you- Are you sniffing me??” 

He coughed, whipping his head away. “D’fficult to avoid.”

I chuckled good-naturedly. “Hope it was everything you dreamed of.”

I pushed him onto the bed and he flopped over, immediately snuggling into it. I straightened up and exhaled, looking down at him. He looked… cute, like this. He was almost like a child, fisting the blankets and tucking his legs up near his torso. I shook my head, breaking that line of thought. This was silly.

Good deed for the day done, I placed the key on his nightstand and turned to leave. 

“Wait!” A warm weight held my wrist. I turned back to find him looking up at me from the edge of the bed with the sweetest pair of puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “Please stay.” He mumbled, like he didn’t want to say it, and definitely would not have if he hadn’t been in such a state. 

I tore my eyes away, looking at the ground. I didn’t know this man. It was enough of a risk just to take him up here—it was even more to stay and sleep here. 

His grip loosened, sensing my indecision. “I understand.” he nodded, not looking at me. “‘M scary.” 

My heart warmed. He was so cute. I reached out and cupped his cheek, guiding him to look at me. He leaned into my hand, eyes closed. “You are so sweet.” I cooed, brushing my thumb back and forth. 

He snorted, eyes opening. “‘M not.” His gaze wandered over my face. Heat rose to my cheeks, not expecting his eyes to hold such warmth and reverence in them. He reached out, his hand aiming for my face but falling and holding my arm instead. His palm was warm. “Yer gorgeous.” The heat in my cheeks flared, painting them a bright red. 

I knew I shouldn’t. 

But he was so sweet... despite his burly appearance, he seemed like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

I sighed and moved my hand from his cheek to run through his hair. He hummed happily, his head nodding forward slightly. “You want me to stay?” He looked up, eyes hopeful.

“Yes.” he breathed. His hand dragged down my arm, shifting and stopping at my hip. My breath hitched. “Please?”

I ignored the warmth seeping into my body from my hip, smiling at him kindly. “How could I say no to that face?” My hand at his neck brought his head closer to me. I heard him hiccup. I pecked the top of his head and ruffled his hair, pushing away from him. 

His hand fell from me limply, his eyes never leaving me as I rounded the bed, shedding my bag and shoes. I contemplated taking off my dress. I had undergarments on but… no, I’d be fine sleeping in my dress. I crawled into the other side of the bed, heaving an exhausted sigh at finally being able to lay down. 

It was quiet in the room, for a couple of minutes. I faced the ceiling, but felt his gaze on me. I turned. His face still held that reverent look. I blushed, unable to fight the smile twisting my lips. “You should get some sleep, sweetheart. That headache when you wake up’ll kill.”

He nodded, slumping over onto his side, facing me. I mirrored his posture, facing him. His eyes wandered all over, but never strayed from my face, despite this being one of my lower-cut dresses. My heart fluttered.  “What’s your name?” I whispered.

His face twitched. “Arthur.”

“Like the king?”

Arthur huffed a laugh. “What’s your name?” He asked instead, just as quiet. I told him. He smiled dreamily. “’S pretty. Suits you.” 

“Thank you, Arthur.” His smile grew hearing his name. “Though I can’t say you’re very kingly presently.” I teased.

He didn’t answer, instead reaching out, brushing hair from my face. I faltered, flustered at how gentle he was. Did he even hear me? His gaze dropped to my lips. “Can I kiss you?” 

I blinked in surprise, searching his face. He pulled his hand back, dragging it over his face and groaning. “Ohh, I’m a fool.” He rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his hand. 

I wanted to kiss him. I was surprising myself left and right today.

I reached out and touched his shoulder, pushing myself up onto my elbow. He shifted his hand to look at me with one eye. I forced myself to hold his gaze, feeling silly. “You can, Arthur, if you’d like.” 

Arthur dropped his hand. “Would you like?” I nodded.

He moved slowly, like he didn’t want to scare me off. He turned, moving his hand to cup my cheek. I tilted my head up, feeling my stomach flip nervously. He stopped, lips brushing against mine. 

Slowly, I pressed into them.

He groaned into my mouth, his hand moving towards my neck to bring me closer. I sighed happily, moving my hand to his chest. I wanted to explore further, feeling him up and down, but kept myself in check. Kissing was one thing, but... I didn’t want him to do something he would regret. He moved against me, trying to get impossibly closer.

I internally scolded myself. No further than this. I softly, regretfully, pushed against his chest, parting from him. He whimpered at the loss of contact, looking at me with sad eyes. I shook my head. "You're drunk, Arthur."

He frowned. "So?" His hand slid down from my neck, rubbing against my waist. He tugged a little, experimentally. His hand felt hot on my side, pressing me into the mattress. 

I bit my lip. "'S not right, cowboy, you know that." I poked his chest weakly. "If it was me you found out on the street like that, you wouldn't." 

He avoided my gaze. "Wouldn't I?"

"I don't know." I whispered, smoothing my hand over his chest. "I don't think you would, though." I didn't know why I was so sure. There was something about him.

He grunted, pushing into me and nuzzling his head into my neck. I made a noise of surprise, falling onto my back. "You don' know me." His lips tickled my neck as he spoke. 

I smiled, reaching my hands up to tangle in his hair. No, I did not know him, but I sure wanted to after tonight. He relaxed against my touch, almost crushing me under his weight. I didn't mind. I kissed his head, smoothing my hand down to rub circles on his back. Within minutes he was passed out, snoring softly. 

I debated leaving, but he had wormed his arms around me, snuggled in to my chest so cutely that I couldn't. I sighed, shifting my head on the pillow. The hotel was closer to the saloon than my house, anyway. This just made it easier to clock in come morning. (A flimsy excuse, but enough.)

[lucyswinter]

Request guidelines

Requests are : OPEN<3

Masterlist

Who/what I write for:

-Cillian Murphy/ characters: (Jackson Rippner, Tom Shelby, Neil Lewis, Jonathan Crane, Kitten Braden, Jim: 28 days later, Emmett: a quiet place part II, Raymond Leon, Robert Fischer, Tom Buckley)

-Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, JJ,

-The Bear: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Carmen Berzatto, Sugar Berzatto

-Saw: Lawrence Gordon, Adam Stanheight, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Amanda Young, Jill Tuck, Lynn Denlon (for ships: I’ll do chainshipping, coffinshipping, and shotgunshipping/lynnmanda!)

-American Horror Story (All seasons up to Cult. Only ships if they are canon (by season, I mean)! i.e: I won’t do Kit Walker (s2) x Madison Montgomery (s3) or anything)!

-Nip/Tuck: Sean McNamara, Christian Troy, Matt McNamara, Julie McNamara, Liz Cruz, Eden Lord

-DC villains (from the Nolan trilogy or Gotham tv show! I will specify from which one I mean. I’ll also write Batman but that’s the only hero)

-Peaky blinders: Luca Changretta, Tom Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Finn Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Oswald Mosley

-Top Gun/ Top Gun: Maverick: any characters! (For ships, I only rlly know IceMav 😭 but I’m open to others! I’ll also do penny!reader)

-Bridgerton/ Queen Charolette: Daphne x Simon, George x Charolette, Anthony x Kate, Colin x Penelope (and all of these characters individually!)

-Community: Professor Ian Duncan, Jeff Winger, Abed Nadir, Britta Perry , Annie Edison, Troy Barnes

-Impractical Jokers: Joe Gatto, Sal Vulcano, James Murray, Brian Quinn

-Supernatural: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Destiel (will not do Wincest or Wincestiel)

-X-files: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, MSR

-BBC Sherlock (only JohnLock)

-Good omens (only Ineffable husbands)

-Hannibal (only Hannigram)

(Any other characters im open to! Just PM me to see if I know the fandom/media they’re in, or rec with a few options! I’ll ignore if I don’t know them <;3)

I will write: A bit ooc (depends on scenario 🤭), fluff, smut, small-ish age gap, AU’s, non romantic pairings, alternate endings, fem!/gn!/afab!reader, character x reader, character x character

I won’t write: Male!/nonbinary!/trans!reader (im a cis female so I will write gender neutral reader if requested, but most fics (unless specified) were written with a fem reader in mind :)), incest, underage reader (or character), dub/non-con

Thanks for reading! Feel free to PM requests if you aren’t comfortable sending them through the question button or want to work through the request :)

[detective-writes]

Introduction and (future) Masterpost!

Hello! My name is Rayx and I decided to revamp a dead sideblog to be something I wanted to try! Here you will find writing but it'll be from requests (either sent in the inbox or DMs)! I will have anon on in but it will be turned off if y'all don't behave.

What I will write, what fandoms I write for, and what I won't write for is under the cut!

Brief DNI: TERFs, H//rry P//tter fans, bigots, prosh//ppers,

Fandoms I'll write for:

Star Wars (The Clone Wars TV show, The OG trilogy, and the recent movies mostly. I have yet to watch the prequels and haven't finished other media.)

Sherlock (Doyle's, Elementary and BBC's mostly.)

Hitman 2016

Hannibal

Fablehaven

Lockwood & CO

Heavy Rain

Red Dead Redemption

Undertale (and any AUs that aren't NSFW)

Supernatural (I haven't watched the finale so please don't spoil anything)

Ace Attorney

Detroit Become Human

Venom (I haven't watched the second movie yet)

Legend of Zelda (I haven't played/watched Tears of the Kingdom)

My Hero Academia (I didn't watch all of it but I watched enough to get an understanding of characters)

Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Egos (is that still the term?)

AFK Arena

More to be added

Fandoms I might write for:

Danganronpa (I've only watched gameplay of THH though)

Attack on Titan

Death Note

Gravity Falls (I'm on the last season but haven't finished)

Rick and Morty

Scooby Doo

Love, Nikki

Slashers (it's under a 'maybe' because I'm not too confident in writing the slashers well but willing to try!)

Cookie Run

What I can write:

Character x Character

Character x Reader

Character Headcanons

Ship Headcanons

X Reader Headcanons

Hurt/Comfort

Fluff

Angst

AUs

Specific Tropes (enemies to lovers, "there's only one bed", etc)

What I won't write:

NSFW (I have a sideblog [ @detective4sideblog ] where I share my NSFW writing and do take requests. This is going to be a SFW blog.)

Inc//stous Pairings (*looks at SWs Clones in specific)

Adult Character x Underage Character

V//re

Over-the-top violence

Anything relating to self harm

Abusive Relationships (even if it's on par for the pairing, I do not feel comfortable writing that)

Ships I Will Write:

Note: Feel free to ask about any I did not list!

Star Wars:

Codywan (Obi Wan/Cody)

Rexwalker (Anakin/Rex)

Padtine (Satine/Padmé)

Obitine (Satine/Obi Wan)

Anakin/Rex/Padmé

Obi Wan/Satine/Cody

Ploit (Plo Koon/Kit Fisto)

Skysolo (Han Solo/Luke Skywalker)

Finpoe (Poe/Finn)

Poe/Rey/Finn

Most other ships you can think of from SWs, feel free to shoot an ask to make sure!

Sherlock:

Mormor (Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty)

Johniarty (John Watson/Jim Moriarty)

Johnastian (John Watson/Sebastian Moran)

Mollrene (Irene Adler/Molly Hooper)

Hooperan (Sebastian Moran/Molly Hooper)

Specifically Victorian Johnlock (John Watson/Sherlock Holmes)

I think that covers everything, though there's others but regardless.

Hitman:

Dianseven (Agent 47/Diana Burnwood)

Hannibal:

Hannigram (Hannibal Lector/Will Graham)

I don't know any other Hannibal ships but feel free to inform me, I'll gladly write for 'em :)

Lockwood & CO:

Locklyle (Anthony Lockwood/Lucy Carlyle)

George/Lucy/Lockwood (is this a ship? Either way, listing it)

Heavy Rain

Jars (Norman Jayden/Ethan Mars)

I might write for Norman/Blake if I like the prompt enough but they aren't my cup of tea. Same goes for Ethan/Madison.

Ethan/Grace (*shrugs*)

RDR

Vandermatthews (Dutch Van Der Linde/Hosea Matthews)

Arthur Morgan/Kiran Duffy (I can't remember their ship name atm)

Charles/Arthur Morgan (I can't remember the shipname again)

Most other pairings you can think of that don't break my "won't write" list :)

Undertale

Sansby (Sans/Grillby)

Burger Guy/Nice Cream Guy

Papyton (Papyrus/Mettaton)

Undyne/Alphys

Soriel (Sans/Toriel)

SPN

Destiel (Castiel/Dean Winchester)

Sabriel (Gabriel/Sam Winchester)

Bobby/Crowley

Like I said, I haven't watched the finale...or much past season 5 or 6 so...yeah.

Ace Attorney

Wrightworth (Phoenix Wright/Miles Edgeworth)

Detective Gumshoe/Phoenix Wright

Maya Fey/Franziska von Karma

Larry Butz/Phoenix Wright

DBH

Reed900 (Gavin Reed/RK-900)

Hankcon (Hank Anderson/Connor)

Markus/Simon

North/Markus

North/Markus/Simon

Venom

The obvious canon Venom/Eddie Brock

LoZ

Zelink (Zelda/Link)

Sidlink (Prince Sidon/Link)

Mipha/Link

Mipha/Zelda

Link/Sheik

Midlink (Midna/Link)

Midna/Zelda

MHA

Honestly anything BUT Midoriya/Bakugo.

Egos

Darkstache (Wilford Warfstache/Darkiplier)

Antiaverage (Antisepticeye/Chase Brody)

Anti/Marvin the Magnificent

Chase Brody/Marvin

Schneeplbro (Doctor Schneeplestein/Chase Brody)

Googleplier/Chase Brody

There's more but I'm forgetting them 😭

AFK Arena

Thane/Baden

Treznor/Nevanthi

Idk any other ships so feel free to request

Masterpost:

Will be updated in the future :)

[emmasbrain]

i wanna start doing requests so bad so if anyone sees this and has any…

stuff i write:

- smut

- fluff

- drabbles

- headcanons/lists

- tell me if you want any other stuff too !!

stuff/people i write about:

- criminal minds (specifically my lovely doctor reid, aaron hotchner, emily prentiss, penelope garcia, derek morgan, maybe jj depending on the ask)

- sherlock

- hannibal

- castlevania

- mcu (i’m pretty open to any mcu character however i’m not super fond of guardians of the galaxy)

- the boys (plsplspls someone ask about frenchie/butcher)

- i’ve had a realisation that i love sierra six so ya know…

- sirius black, remus lupin, james potter

- obey me has taken over my brain so if ya fancy a demon brother… (i’ve only recently started playing it though so apologies for lack of knowledge)

- if there’s any that aren’t on here that you’d still like to ask please do cuz i’ve missed so many!!

- (i’m not a big anime fan, i’ve seen one anime and i’m pretty sure most people haven’t seen it lmfao)

topics and stuff:

- i’m pretty chill with most stuff so feel free to ask

- i enjoy intense need/sex pollen/etc kinda stuff cuz i find it fun so if you like that then cool

- i do character x character and character x reader so you can request either

- i have major daddy issues so ya know…

- i do m x m, f x f, m x f and gn

i’ll add more as i think of more

[charliedawn]

Hiya Charlie! I missed ya! I’ve been busy with college. I finally changed my major to American history and I’m happier.

Anyway I have a request for you! Idk if you do AUs or anything, but I thought it’d be fun. How about a Hannibal royal family au? I’ve been reading a lot about knights and princes and princesses lately, and this idea wouldn’t leave my brain!

have a lovely day Charlie!

ROYAL HANNIBAL FAMILY AU:

You were but a villager.

In no way were you expected to attend any royal ceremony or to even set foot into the palace…but, you had still received a letter one morning—inviting you to the castle. You had believed in a hoax at first—a joke. Or maybe even a mistake. But, the letter had your name on it—written in pretty cursive.

You were hence invited to the castle of the royal family. Once confirmed, you began to be frightened. Many rumours went about that place…And some of them were gruesome.

Tales of man-eating monsters and bloodthirsty creatures hiding within the castle.

You didn’t know why you had been invited—but you knew that you had no choice but to accept the invitation or some misfortune might befall on you. You hence stepped within the walls of the dark castle where many had stepped in before—only to never return…

You knew you ought to bring a gift for the family, and hence chose to pluck flowers from your garden and bring them with you—hoping they would be enough to change your destiny.

HANNIBAL SR. THE KING:

Fleur de Lys.

For the king, you had brought magnificent fleurs de lys—the royal flower. It was said to bring peace and prosperity to a kingdom. You entered the throne room and sure enough, here was his majesty the king. Your knees started shaking as you made your way into the throne room and bowed deeply before none other than King Hannibal Lecter. His eyes seemed to bore into yours and he didn’t talk for a moment—until his eyes landed on the flowers.

"…Are those for me ?" He asked and you nodded before taking a step forward.

"Yes, my king." To your utter surprise, king Hannibal himself stood up and walked down the stairs of his throne to you. He then took the flowers in his hands and smiled.

"…Ah. Fleur de Lys. How thoughtful. A worthy gift. Such a lovely one at that." His eyes looked down at the unfortunate creature who had come into his castle for the sole purpose of being hunted.

"Tell me, my dear child. Why bring me flowers ?"

He was genuinely curious and you smiled before slowly looking back up at him.

"You and your family have been protecting this land and our way of life for as long as I can remember. And I knew that if I was to meet a king, then I was to bring a gift to show my gratitude as to this unexpected invitation."

Hannibal Sr looked at the villager curiously. It was rather odd. No villager had ever brought a gift with them before…But, it wasn’t unwelcome. He smiled. It was even quite touching in a way…He gave the flowers to a servant for them to put them in a vase. He then looked back down at the villager.

"What is your name, child ?" He asked—his voice authoritative and loud enough to echo all around the throne room like thunder.

"…Y/N. My king." You replied before looking up at him and he smiled as he looked at you curiously. You were intriguing. He hummed before returning to his throne to sit back down.

"How about I offer you a job, Y/N ? Would you like that ? Would you consider to work under my service ?" He asked and your eyes widened at the offer.

"Sir…I would love nothing more."

And just like that, you had now been hired by the royal family as a servant. And for the first time, the villagers saw one of their own return to the village. You quickly packed your bags and left—unaware the fate that you had miraculously escaped.

HANNIBAL JR. THE PRINCE REGENT:

Roses.

When you approached the gates, you could already see the guards staring at you with knowing smirks. You gulped. They seemed to know something about the purpose behind your visit and the way they looked at you made you involuntarily shiver…You looked at the roses in your hands. Perhaps your gift would spare you punishment, or even death ? You shook your head at the dark thoughts plaguing your mind before stepping inside and making your way to the throne room…You were expecting to meet with the king.

But instead, the Prince Regent was sitting there—his piercing gaze staring at you intensely as you approached.

"M-My prince…" You greeted him politely before bowing respectfully before him.

"…I was made aware that you had a gift for me, is that correct ?" He asked and you bowed your head deeply before offering the roses to his gaze.

"Yes, my prince. Roses." He scoffed before standing up to look at the roses closely.

"I have many roses within my kingdom, why would you bother bringing me such a gift ?" You stayed completely still and didn’t know how to answer.

"I…I just thought that his majesty would appreciate them. I have grown them myself and I thought that you would be able to appreciate a gift as this one because I heard you valued hard work and dedication. I only wished to prove myself to you."

Hannibal Jr smirked before grasping your chin and slowly tilting it up to look into your eyes.

"Very well…And what can you do for me then, little flower ?"

You started thinking about it before replying confidently.

"…Anything you want, my prince."

He studied your answer and smiled as his eyes didn’t leave yours for a second. He finally released your chin and seemed pleased by your answer.

"Anything you say ? Interesting."

Maybe…Would he keep that one ?

MORGAN HANNIBAL THE FIRST PRINCE: Pansies

Once you had entered, you followed your instincts to give you the path to the throne room, as no one seemed to be around to guide you. You started walking until you reached a magnificent door with lovely gold patterns. You thought it was the throne room and opened the door—only to end up in a library. You looked around curiously. The village didn’t have books such as these—not as many anyway…And besides, only a lucky few knew how to read. And they didn’t share their knowledge unless they were paid…

Then, your eyes landed on a book that was open on the table. You knew you better haste and find the throne room before your time was up but…Curiosity got the best of you and you slowly made your way to the book. You hoped there would at least be pictures for you to look at…Once close enough, you looked at the pages and found it rather curious to find the illustrated representation of a rabbit wearing a waistcoat and holding a pocket watch…How curious.

As the pages were flipped, more incongruous and confusing characters came in, all the more interesting as the pages went along…You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of a smiling purple cat. You then wondered who that book might well belong to ?

Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you and before you could turn around—you felt the hand of a stranger at the back of your neck and forcing you to remain in the same position…bent over the book.

"…Do you like it ?" He asked—his voice merely a whisper in your ear and you gulped as you started becoming nervous.

"I…I didn’t mean to look at it. I am sorry, sir. Please. Forgive me."

He tsskd in disapproval before digging his fingers into your skin.

"Answer my question, little mouse…or your last words will be the apology."

And with that threat, your tongue started working on its own.

"Y-Yes. I like it. I love the pictures and the funny animals. I just…I would just like to understand more. I have trouble understanding the story. I am sorry."

He hummed behind you before sitting down next to you. That is when his face came into view and your eyes widened as you recognised the first prince…You wished to escape—but his grip hadn’t loosened as he took the book and opened it on the first page.

To your utter shock, he started reading it to you. His voice was cold, but poised and rich like cinnamon and melted sugar…After a while, you decided it was best to just listen and enjoy the privilege of being read to. You didn’t even notice when his grip on you finally loosened completely and he instead started circling the side of your throat with his thumb—seeking your pulse and wondering if you were afraid.

He searched for fear. He found none…His eyes settled on the flower pot you had brought with you…pansies. You had brought pansies to the castle and he held back a laugh before continuing reading to you.

You had no idea of the fate awaiting you.

KEVIN HANNIBAL THE MIDDLE PRINCE: Daffodils.

"HELLO, PRECIOUS !" You were stunned when the doors of the castle opened wide and none other than Prince Kevin came out with a big grin on his face. "Come in, luv’. Make yourself at home !"

He took your hand and before you could as much as let out a squeak of protest…You were already in. He dragged you all the way to—what you assumed to be—his bedroom. It was a great room with all the luxury one could afford…but what truly struck you wasn’t the fine furniture and incredible gold, silver and emerald green designs worthy of such a man…No.

It was the paintings.

Hundred of them. They were covering the walls and for a simple villager, it was like walking inside a great museum. You had never seen so many paintings, or even held a brush before. But, you couldn’t but to marvel facing all those reproductions of people you had met, people you had never met, places you had seen and other unseen…It put into perspective all the things you knew and didn’t in such a beautiful way.

The prince remained silent—observing you with a slight tilt of his lips. He was holding back a smile as he saw the admiration in your gaze…The middle prince was foreign by what the rumours said about him—from a country far away surrounded by water and where dark creatures resided. But, his smiling face was a complete contrast with what you thought your first meeting with royalty would be.

"Not bad, eh ?" He asked and his accent rolled off his tongue in such a way that it inwardly made you smile for some reason.

"Those are…incredible, my prince." He chuckled at your compliment before looking down at the flowers in your hands.

"Are those for little old me ?" Before you could answer, he took the flowers from you and smiled at the daffodils. He then did something unexpected and threw the flowers on his bed. You were about to ask the reason before he wordlessly guided you to the bed and laid you down carefully. He then started placing the flowers all around your head—as if putting together an art piece. When he was finished, he smiled.

"Don’t move." He then quickly grabbed brushes, colours and a canvas to start painting. You didn’t dare move as he put himself to work and silent fell all around you—except for the occasional sounds of the careful strokes of his paintbrush on the canvas and your breathing. After a while, you dared to glance at the prince and observe him as he worked. He was…quite handsome. His eyelids lowered and his eyes focused on his work. You didn’t know the reason for your summoning, but you would have never thought it was to be the model for the prince’s next art piece.

Suddenly, his eyes met yours and he smiled knowingly—for a moment resembling his own art in the perfection of his traits.

You smiled back.

PETER HANNIBAL. THE YOUNGEST PRINCE: Sunflower.

Peter was bored. His father and brothers were all busy with their duties and he wasn’t allowed outside the wall of his room. He sighed and was staring out his window. He wished for a friend…a friend to come and cure his boredom. And as if his prayers had finally been answered, someone entered his room—someone new. He had first expected Morgan or Kevin, but his eyes lit up when he realised that it was someone he had never seen before…

"Oh. My apologies. I…I am afraid I am a bit lost."

His mouth was about to speak up when they landed on the sunflower in your hand instead. A sunflower ? You had brought a sunflower ? He stared at it and you noticed. You smiled before giving it to him. He was surprised, but smiled at the gift that he eagerly received and stared at…

"Could you please tell me the direction of the throne room ?" They asked with an incredibly sweet voice and Peter was stunned for a few seconds. The throne room ? No…So, they were the next meal ? The next one to be served as dinner for his family ? He looked them up and down and in a matter of seconds—took a decision. He stood up and went to the door to lock it. He then remained with his back facing you for a while before slowly turning back towards you with the biggest grin on his face.

"C-Could you play a game with me ? Just the two of us ?" You blinked twice in astonishment at his request before chuckling nervously.

"Hum…I am not sure, my prince. I think I ought to go to the throne room now before I arrive late…"

"Just one. PLEASE !" He pleaded and you knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you smiled and nodded in agreement. "Sure. What is the game then, my prince ?"

He giggled and his face got closer to you before he replied:

"Listen to me and do everything I say or…you die." You were taken aback for a moment before you huffed a nervous laugh.

"…What ?"

Suddenly, his jovial smile disappeared—replaced by darkness in his eyes.

"You heard me. Do as I say or…my papa and my brothers will find you and eat you. But, I can keep you safe. I can help you. All you have to do is promise to be my friend !" At that last part, he grinned again and you knew better than to ignore such words. They were no laughing matter—especially that you knew you hadn’t been the first to be summoned and to never return. You realised that he wasn’t kidding and you gulped. What choice did you have ?

You bowed.

"Yes. Thank you, my prince."

His grin widened before he hugged you tightly.

"You and I…we’re gonna be best friends. You’ll see. And I’ll love you and you’ll love and it is gonna be so great ! You’ll see…"

Indeed, you would…

You thought before a petal of the sunflower fell to the floor.

[snax-writes]

snax writes.

[masterlist]

snax writes mcu.

tony stark

bucky barnes

snax writes suits.

harvey specter

snax writes criminal minds.

derek morgan

aaron hotchner

david rossi

alex blake

emily prentiss

snax writes hannibal.

hannibal lecter

bedelia du maurier

inesa lecter [OC]

snax writes other stuff.

nathan gardener

anthony bridgerton

lily van der woodsen

carlisle cullen

derek shepherd

i write romantic as well as platonic constellations. i take requests to write smut, i can't promise i'll write them tho.

[visit my ao3: snaxwrites]

[psa concerning fandom & ao3 etiquette]

[xxhexwolfxx]

Update :3

Hello everyone!

I'm so sorry for not posting in a bit! I unfortunately got sick after posting the Spiderverse Hcs. I am feeling better, but I do have some schoolwork to do so writing will be put on hold for just a little bit longer. I will try to get back to writing as soon as I can! I promise I will be posting as soon as I can! My inbox is still open for requests along with my messages if anyone wants to request anything or just to chat. I'm sorry again for the delay!

Have a good day/night! <3

[breakingbranchesbella]

The BAU team, nbc’s Hannibal crew, and the Jeffersonian team as incorrect quotes

+ Cassandra Lorayne, an original character from my Criminal Minds, Hannibal, Bones, etc crossover fanfic! Found on my blog.

[house-of-slayterr]

The Consequences of My Actions

Hannibal Family Pt. 7: @charliedawn @iloveslasher

Morgan’s POV:

Dinner had been interesting last night. Peter’s little friend was quite the character. They spoke in an odd way, almost like they weren’t afraid to speak their mind. Not even about confrontational subjects, just anything that came to mind. They seemed to think a lot, their brows almost always knit together in a confused display.

They were younger than Peter, that much was obvious, but they were in the same class. So they must be somewhat intelligent. Otherwise my little cousin would not hang out with them. He didn’t bring many students home, unless they were to become dinner guests. Hannibal called Peter away for help with something nearly half an hour ago. I watched Newt from the shadows as they stayed in the living room.

They where laying on the their stomach on the carpet, rubbing small circles into the plush fabric with their palm. Everyone few seconds or so they would shiver. It would start at the top of their spine and roll all the way through their toes. I could see them scrunch their nose each time it happened, as if it made them uncomfortable. Yet they continued to do it. How odd.

I watched a little while longer, entranced by their odd behaviour. No wonder Hannibal found them intriguing. They were no Will Graham, but they hadn’t seen the things that man had. They weren’t quite haunted in the same way. Instead they held an hier of naivety. Normally I’d be disgusted by it, but I sort of pity them.

Danger is lurking quite literally right under their nose, and yet they’re none the wiser. Of course, we all loved Peter. But if it came down to it, Newt would be disposed off if they became a threat. But this was possibly the most non threatening human I’ve ever observed. Even toddlers have more devious intentions.

They had a peculiar way of moving as well. Their movements were stiff, instead jagged. But not with pause like someone in thought, instead disconnected like someone who’s checked out. Mentally ill, I’m sure. They have to be, everyone else knew to stay away from Peter. Despite his shy demeanour, others could sense his sinister undertones.

They were kicking their feet to some uneven beat. Changing rhythm haphazardly and with no reason. I suddenly realised, I had no idea what they were even meant to be doing. Why were they hanging out in the living room with Peter? The television wasn’t on, they didn’t have a book in front of them, no puzzles… they were just playing with the carpet and completely content. I moved a bit closer, still staying out of their peripheral.

They began to hum a tune, their voice low and soft. It was gentle at first, almost timid. But it grew louder seemingly the more impatient they got with waiting. Until they began to mumble the words.

“Forget you’re apart of me, I know that you’re fond of me. But when I ask you if you love me, forget like lobotomy.” They sang.

It was unlike any song I’d heard before. Kevin liked to keep up to date on the latest music trends. But this sounded nothing like the type of thing he enjoyed. Hannibal and I had more refined taste, of course.

“I wish I could take a piece of my heart out. Make you leave. But even if they cut out my whole brain, feelings will always be.”

Their feet kicking became more rhythmic as they got into the song.

“Make me forget who I am. Say you’ll make me understand, you’re just taking my personal power.” They finished.

They ended the song with a dramatic sigh, turning to flop on their back. They shivered once again, yet this time it was more violent, almost like a small jerk. It caused them to sit up suddenly. Their eyes were screwed shut, I tilted my head curiously.

“Peter?” They asked?

It was so soft, I almost didn’t hear it. They must have noticed my presence so I stepped forward into the light. I wasn’t expecting them to jump as much as they did.

“Oh! Morgan.” They said.

“Peter is still with Hannibal, did you need something? I was passing by and I heard you call for him.”

Their face scrunched up.

“No, it’s fine Morgan, thank you.”

The frowned deeply. The kind that tugged at the corner of their eyes. I was going to take my leave, not wishing to over stay my welcome, I could always go back to observing later. They still needed a proper threat assessment; to be tested. To see if they could be trusted.

“Are they ok?”

“Hmm?” I hummed.

“Just- well, they’ve been gone awfully long time…” they said nervously.

A small bead a sweat formed where their throat met their clavicule. I watched as they swallowed thickly. They were nervous all of a sudden, but was it because of me, or something else? I took a step forward.

“I’m sure everything’s just fine, perhaps Hannibal got a call from Mr. Crawford and didn’t have time to drop Peter off back at home.”

This only made them more worried. They shook their head, hugging their body.

“I Hope not, Peter doesn’t belong at places like that.”

What a strange statement. Peter thrived in the realm of the dead. We all did, killing was our specialty. He wouldn’t be disturbed by a measly criminals sloppy murder scene. They were all amateurs, which is why they got caught. Of course I knew where they were. They were dealing with a particularly nasty piece of shit. The more I observed Newt, the less I could understand how their father could abuse them as much as Hannibal seems to think he did. He didn’t tell me much, and I didn’t pry. If it was pertinent, I’d be the first to know.

But I couldn’t tell them that. That we kidnapped their father and we’re torturing them. That Peter requested to do most of it himself. He wanted to make that man hurt for every bad thing he did to his best friend. And I respected that, seeing him take initiative for once was thrilling. It’s a shame I had to be here instead, babysitting. Making sure they didn’t run.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

They tilted their head, brows furrowing much more. Almost as if nobody had ever asked them such a question. Perhaps no one had.

“We shouldn’t eat until everyone’s back home.”

Interesting, they called this place their ‘home’, not Peter’s, not mine, just home.

“Nonsense, a snack never killed anyone. I won’t tell if you don’t.” I offered.

I had to get them to trust me if I was going to test their loyalty. Scaring them away would do no good, not this time. Not when Peter seemed to actually care for this one. He would be devastated and I cannot have that clouding my conscious. I held my hand out for them to take, which they excepted.

“Thanks.” They mumbled.

They trailed behind me to the kitchen. I thought about what I could cook them. I knew for a fact, Hannibal had yet to serve them anyone yet. I don’t know what he was waiting for, it’s not like they would know. He’d done it many times, with Miss Lounds, Alana, Jack… Will. They’d all eaten someone without knowing. Even Abigail had, so Newt being a minor wasn’t what was stopping him. But I shouldn’t go behind his back, he had his reasons. As tempting as it would be to watch them devour someone, and see them break when they found out.

That was always the most fun, watching them break. The men were more satisfying, they always tried to me ‘manly’ about it. But they’d resort to puking and tears in no time. And the women, the women grew hysteric and would plead to whatever god they believed in for forgiveness. But Newt, how would they react? They belonged to neither classification, not fully. Despite looking like a girl on the outside, their brain was much more complex than that. I wondered what it would taste like. I shook the thought from my head, and looked back when a hand was placed on my shoulder. I raised a brow at them.

“Lost you there for a moment, where did you go?” They asked.

“Go?”

The gave me a nod, chuckling softly under their breath.

“In here.” They pointed to their head. “Your eyes went dark, like Peter’s do when he’s thinking.”

They too were observant, interesting. Maybe they would be more useful then I originally gave them credit for.

“Nowhere you need to worry yourself about.” I answered plainly. I knew they didn’t mean to pry, but they didn’t seem to understand we were still strangers. They shouldn’t pretend to know me because they knew Peter.

“Kevin doesn’t disappear in his head much.”

I raised a brow once more, daring them to continue.

“He hides in someone else’s instead. Poking around in whatever hole he can find. Digging deeper until they’re to confused to question his motives.” They started.

Bjr it didn’t sounds scared, or judgmental. It was like they were stating a simple fact. It wasn’t harsh, nor soft, just spoken plainly, with utter disinterest.

“You make my brother sounds like a narcissist.”

“With a tendency for sociopathy actually. He doesn’t like me very much.”

I frowned. Had they read Hannibal’s folders? I knew he kept files on each of us, his own way of feeling in control. He was in charge while Hannibal Sr. was in jail after all. We’d have to break him out soon; he’d been locked up for far to long.

“You believe Kevin is a sociopath?” I questioned.

I took some cheese from the fridge; grabbing the proper knife to cut it into cubes. Cheese and crackers would be a simple snack they would enjoy. They didn’t seem to be the type for a broad pallet. Their taste were quite childish.

“Is that what I said?” They asked back.

It wasn’t quite challenging in tone, more defensive.

“But you believe he had a tendency to be so.”

“He’s cynical, charming, arrogant, impulsive, irritable, presents as having little empathy and frequently gets in trouble in school. Often times, dragging Peter with him.” The concluded.

Fascinating. Yet they dared to challenge him last night at dinner. I continued to make their snack. They sat at the counter, fidgeting with their nails.

“You’ve paid attention to Kevin’s behaviour at school, before you were intimate with Peter?”

They scrunched their nose.

“Please do not use that word. There is nothing going on between Peter and I. Intimate suggests… unsavoury things, we’re familiar, harmonious, but not intimate.”

I raised my hands in mock defence. There was that shiver again, a visceral reaction.

“But yes, Kevin has been called down to the office 47 times, been reprimanded in front me 24, but I’m sure there’s been countless more, he’s gotten in 7 fist fights, two of which he didn’t initiate and he’s been suspended 3 times. All since the beginning of the year when I got here.”

They picked at the skin of their fingers more harshly, clearly becoming worked up. I knew I should step back, Hannibal wouldn’t be pleased if I started to wear down Peter’s new toy so quickly. But I couldn’t help myself.

“And what do you think of me?” I asked.

They looked up for the first time since they sat down, a bewildered look crossing their features.

“I don’t know you Morgan… I won’t pretend to.”

“Assume me.” I pushed.

They sighed heavily.

”You seem to have compulsive tendencies…” they poked around their head for more descriptors.

“Oh?”

“You’ve readjusted your grip on the knife 9 tiems, three for each time you’ve had to pick it up again after pausing. You did the same thing last night at dinner. You also spin your fork twice before eating. You tap for times on the table with your left forefinger once you’ve set a utensil down. And you adjust your sleeves between each action, which doesn’t come off as a nervous behaviour. In fact you don’t seem to be a nervous person in the slightest. You’re quite confident in all your actions.”

They cleared their throat.

“I could have declined your offer for a snack, but you would have persisted. Which suggests to me your obsessive need for control. You’re a perfectionist. If I had said no, it would have ruined how you pré-planned this whole interaction in your head. You wish to get to know me because your protective of your family, but more importantly Peter. Because you’re paranoid, a symptom of your PTSD.” They finished.

My grip on the knife tightened, my knuckles turning white. Now I knew why Hannibal’s patients felt uncomfortable when he read them. It was like being splayed open on an autopsy table for all the buzzards to pick and chose which sort of you they bore into. Their eyes trailed down to my hand. I expected them to react, pulling back in fear, and I would have to think quickly how to handle this. But I was stunned at what they did next.

Their hand felt gently on top of my own.

“I’m not going to hurt you, or Peter, Morgan. I answered because you asked. Don’t read to much into it.” They said, giving me a gentle smile.

I relaxed my hand a little.

“And Hannibal?” I questioned.

They were coming too close to figure us out, I would have to call a family meeting later. They didn’t retract their hand until they felt me pull my own away. They dropped their hands in their lap.

“Hmmm. He’s difficult to read. He doesn’t leave much time during our sessions for me to observe him. He asks too many questions. And outside of his office, we only meet during meals. He’s a very busy man. Possibly afraid of being alone with his own thoughts for too long. Perhaps Peter’s narcism was learned from Dr Lecter. He doesn’t mean to, but he’s not great at hiding his prejudice. But he judges with the best of intentions. Some Doctors join the feule because they like the sense of control, but he wouldn’t have become a psychologist if he didn’t want to help, right?”

Now this was interesting. A real question. A little intonation of hope at the end, they wanted a real answer.

“I do believe Hannibal enjoys his job, yes.”

They smiled at me.

“He too is low on empathy, which isn’t a bad thing. He makes up for it in showing sympathy, at least I can feel it. I’m sure his other patients do to.”

“So you’re officially a patient?”

“We’ll, no, no more than you are, I suppose. Perhaps I should be, I think Dr Lecter thinks so. He thinks our chats are useful, I find them boring. But it makes him happy, which in turn makes Peter happy, which-“

“Makes you happy”

I slid the plate to them.

“Peter makes me very happy.” They said.

I could tell it was sincere. The first statement they’d made this far that wasn’t flat. It held a type of warmth that I couldn’t rightfully describe. It was nice to know they didn’t have any sinister intentions with my cousin.

“Did I answer all you questions Morgan?”

“For now. Unless there’s anything else you’d like to share. Or I could leave you be until dinner.”

“No, I think I enjoy the company. Unless, of course, that was just your polite way of telling me you have better things to be doing. Thank you for the snack.”

I sat beside them on the counter, and watched a small smile grow on their lips.

“Your turn.” They said.

“You wish to know what I think of you?”

They nodded as they took a bite of the cracker. It was odd how happy they got from such a simple meal. It was so bland. They offered me one, but I pushed the plate back to them.

“We’ll, I’m not quite sure.”

“You don’t think you understand me, do you?“

“Does anyone understand anyone?”

They chuckled.

“I won’t be offended if you’re wrong. I’m sure I got a lot wrong earlier. My analysis was quite brutal, at least form a normal societal standpoint. Narcissism, and other personality disorders aren’t something that are taken lightly. People demonise them far to much. The people suffering with these conditions are still people, and society conveniently forgets that.”

No wonder they feel for Peter’s charms. They held all the cards to see the red flag, yet chose to wear rose coloured glasses. I pity them.

“We’ll, you care deeply, you show it with your actions rather than words. Acts of service are your love language. You’re adverse to touch most times, but you’re more comfortable when you initiate it first. And you do so when you’ve decided the other persons feelings are more important than your own.”

I watched as they chewed at their bottom lip, squirming in their seat. It was fun to watch.

“I don’t think you live in reality. You’re in heavy denial about something which is why you focus all your energy on being a people pleaser. You try your best to fit in, but not because it’s what you want to do, rather as a survival technique. You know your ship is sinking, so you desperately cling onto the most stable thing you can find, which happens to be my cousin. You idolise him, wrongfully so.”

They tore into the skin of their nails this time, little droplets of blood, beading at the surface.

“You don’t think Peter is worth looking up to?”

“Nobody ever is. Your attachment to my cousin is unhealthy, which is probably why Hannibal insists on making you one of his patients. He can stop you from taking things too far.”

They pushed out their chair.

“Thank you for your analysis Morgan. I think I’m done with snack time.”

They quickly left the room. I could tell they were fighting back tears. Sure, it was harsh, but was I wrong? Their interest could quickly turn to obsession. And I didn’t want to see Peter her his heart broken when Hannibal and I would have to put them down. They couldn’t stay long, it would be better to convince them to leave on their own. I took out my phone and called my uncle.

“How’s Peter doing?” I mused.

“You didn’t call just to talk about Peter, Morgan, spit it out.”

“The child is getting too close, you’ll have to work harder on your manipulation. They know you’re trying to sway them in some way, they just aren’t sure of what, or why. I’ve planted a seed of doubt, be sure to water it, won’t you?”

I hung up the phone. Hannibal and I were quite sparse in our communication. It wasn’t rude, just not laced with all the bullshit embellishments. Poor little Newt walked away with their tail between their legs. This should be fun.

Newt’s POV:

I felt stupid, utterly stupid. I promised I wouldn’t get upset, and like a cry baby, I went and ran away. How pathetic. But he wasn’t right. Peter was my friend, my normal friend. Sure, I’d never made one before, but this is how they described them in books.

My danger sense had been going off all day. But not strong, just a mild buzzing. And the longer it went in, the more I grew concerned. What the hell were Hannibal and Peter up to. The feeling grew in the pit of my stomach, and I knew I had to swallow my pride. Morgan knew where they were. I went around looking for him, finding him in the library. I stood at the entrance, debating if I should come in.

“Do come in Newt, I believe I owe you an apology for earlier” he said smoothly.

His tone of voice made me uneasy.

“No matter, it’s a nonissue. It’s late, I’m worried.”

“I spoke with Hannibal only an hour ago, everything’s fine.”

“No offense, but i don’t believe you. Not about this, not this time.”

He put down his book and slowly walked towards me.

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“No, I- I can’t explain it. I just have a feeling something is wrong. It’s making me sick.”

He tilted his head at that.

“Fine, I’ll take you to them. Then you’ll learn to trust to take my word.”

I nodded. Something told me not to follow him into the car, but I pushed it aside. Making sure Peter was fine was my first priority. Everything about Morgan’s body language screamed instability. He was upset, but I don’t think he’d hurt me. He’s too smart, too proud. But as we made our way further from town, towards the woods, my stomach twisted further.

“Morgan”

“They’re just a little further, old family cabin.” He stated.

We indeed arrived at a cabin, which calmed my anxiety a bit. But I was still on edge. It reminded me of when my father would take me out of town for our hunting trips, and we’d stay in cabins liek this one. He took the keys out of the car.

“We’ll go on, they’re just inside.” He said.

I frowned.

“You’re not coming in?” I asked suspiciously.

“I don’t need to, I know they’re here.”

I squinted at him, scrunching my nose before hesitantly opening the car door. I slowly made my way to the cabin, knocking a few times but not hearing a response. I turned back to look at Morgan, who just shooed me forward. I tried the door and it was unlocked. Weird, that seemed unlike a man like Hannibal.

Most of the cabin was pristine, just like the house. This was definitely one of Hannibal’s properties. It was also fairly quiet. What were they doing out in a cabin by the lake all day? The sun was almost setting and Peter hadn’t checked his phone since he left. A little mouse scurried across my foot, and I looked after where it went. There were little red foot prints leading to a hole in the wall.

I followed the mouse to the little hobbit hole and held out my hand, waiting. It peaked it its nose out after a minuet or so, and I let it sniff my hand. It slowly climbed onto it, and I brought it close to my face to observe. It was covered in some sort of red substance, perhaps they were painting? I set the mouse back down and let it go back into the wall. I pushed forward, noticing a latch in the floor near the back of the house.

I thought for a moment, knowing it would be rude to enter. Morgan was probably just setting me up, getting back at me for earlier. But that bad feeling didn’t go away, so I opened the latch. I could see a light in the distance, they were down there. I could go, but, something urged me to push forward. So I carefully made my way down the later and slowly rounded the corner. I didn’t want to sneak up on them, but talking didn’t seem right, right now. My voice would come out too shaky.

I stepped in a small puddle, but shrugged it off, until I looked around the corner. My heart nearly stopped. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Hannibal and Peter where here alright, but so was my father. Despite everything yelling in me to run, my instincts betrayed me.

“Daddy?” I asked.

All three men turned to me. My father looked shocked, but could barely react from how swollen his face was. I thought I saw a glimpse of anger appear on Hannibal’s face, but I couldn’t care less. My eyes were trained on Peter. He held a knife in his hand, and his jumper was covered in blood, so was his skin. His perfect, welcoming, skin. It was tainted now. Marred with the blood of my father.

“Newt.” Hannibal started.

Peter opened his mouth multiple times to speak, but it was clear he couldn’t come up with anything to say. I didn’t dare take my eyes off him though. Hannibal took a step forward and I took a step back.

“Peter?” I asked.

I watched his eyes shift to Hannibal, like he was looking for some kind of confirmation. Hannibal moved forward again, but I moved back.

“I won’t run.” I stated simply. “So please, stop trying to chase me.” I said calmly.

Hannibal looked hesitant, but agreed to my request.

“Morgan brought me. I was worried you weren’t well. You didn’t answer your phone.”

“Morgan called an hour ago, he should have told you we would be home shortly.”

I chuckled dryly.

“And leave a job unfinished? That’s seems unlike you Dr Lecter.”

“You aren’t upset?” Peter finally spoke.

God, his voice broke me. Actually hearing him speak made this all the more real. He sounded scared. Of me?

“Oh, I’m livid right now Peter. The only thing stopping me from making and rash decisions right now, is the fact that you’re holding a knife, and I know Hannibal won’t hesitate. And I’m sure Morgan’s behind me right now.” I finished.

As if on cue, he gabbed me from behind, holding me tightly to his chest so I couldn’t flee.

“You we’re getting too close.”

“I told you not to read to much into it.”

“Reading into things is the Lecter specialty” he quipped.

“You weren’t meant to see this.” Peter brought my attention back to him.

He stepped forward, and due to Morgan’s hold on me, I couldn’t budge.

“Any of this.”

“So you were going to leave me to wither alone in the dark, forever? We’re meant to light each others flames Peter, not smother them. You promised.” My voice broke.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He was at arms reach now, knife still in hand. But I didn’t dare look at it, I held eye contact dispute how uncomfortable it made me.

“You think your lies do not hurt?” I was quickly becoming enraged.

This wasn’t Peter, my Peter. This Peter was ugly, and cold.

“He just wanted to help. Your father is a monster. The things he did to you-“

“To me! This isn’t your call to make!” I was yelling now.

I was never one to raise my voice, but I couldn’t help myself.

“He’s my father… MINE!” I screamed.

My body was shaking with rage at this point, my vision growing blurry with frustrated tears. I could hear Morgan chuckle behind me, he was enjoying this.

“Not yours Peter.” I tried to calm myself.

“Despite all this, have I given you any reason not to trust me Dr Lecter?”

He thought for a moment.

“No. You have not.”

“Then when I said I wouldn’t run, I meant it. Please tell Morgan to let me go. I don’t like being touched, let alone manhandled.”

Hannibal gave him a nod and he let me go. I adjusted myself, brushing off the icky feeling that cling to my skin. Peter tried to approach but I pushed past him. I approached my father, and the three men watched, on edge. I grabbed his face In my hands, looking him in the eye before ripping out his gag.

“Speak.”

“You vindictive little bitch, I should have let your mother smother you with that pillow when you were an Infant.”

He spat in my face. A mix of salvia and blood hitting me, the warmth of it made me want to vomit. I used my sleeve to wipe it away.

“Huh. No apology?” I asked.

“The only thing I’m sorry for is raising a bastard child like you. I forgave your mother for the affair, she paid for that. But she grew attached to you, that was her mistake.”

My eyes widened. I wasn’t even his blood? This whole time I felt disgusted being related to someone like him. And my mother, she- it didn’t matter now. I started laughing, the kind of laugh the final girl gets when she escapes the killer at the end of a movie.

“We’ll, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. To think, I brought some poor stranger into my family problems. Poor you, the husband of a cheating whore, and the surrogate father of an innocent child who loved you unconditionally.”

I scoffed.

“I cried for you, you know. Every-time I’ve thought about telling the school, or the police. The thought of you rotting in jail made my stomach sick. Mother would never forgive me, and I’d be the outcast who put their own father in jail. Cause what you did to me wasn’t that bad, right? Everyone’s father lost his temper sometimes, it was normal. I was just being dramatic, and a baby. Well guess what dad, I’ve grown up!”

I grabbed an ice pick from the table of tools and quickly plunged it between his rib cage, narrowly missing his heart.

“I’m not that naive little kid anymore, who thinks daddy just wants what’s best for them. You can’t order me around anymore.”

I twisted it in. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I flinched back, pulling my shoulder out of the way. In turn taking the weapon with me. Something clicked when I looked down at my hands, seeing the red, feeling the hot sticky sensation of his blood on my hands. I was going to be sick. I dropped the ice pick and stumbled back in shock.

“What did I-“

Peter pulled me into a hug, I crumpled to the floor, a sobbing mess. He shushed me, rocking me back and forth gently.

“It’s ok Newt, he’s never gonna hurt you again. And I don’t have to lie anymore, I promise.” He said.

“Morgan, get them home. I’ll clean this up.”

The rest of the evening was a blur. I was too stunned to have any coherent thoughts, or hear any of what they tried to say to me.

An: I was having a bad day, and this fic made me feel better lol. Hannibal is my OG comfort character.