pastelwell

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‼️ New fic alert! ‼️

The long road home

This was such an indulgence, and it all started earlier this year w a pic of Mads where it looked like he ran a bar. Somehow I took that and invented an entire AU where Hannibal owns a bar that Will frequents bc he is dependent on alcohol to avoid the complexity of emotions. Totally normal thing to do…!

35k words later and here it is. I never intended to post it, it was just a silly lil project I was sharing with friends, but it felt a bit wasteful keeping it to myself! Hopefully it finds its audience :)

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PREVIEW (pretty long sorry!)

It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt in his life, but not in the way he expects. It’s a shock, first and foremost, but he’s more surprised by how numb he feels, from head to toe, a blanket of emptiness that settles on his shoulders and begins to slowly drown him.

The death of Will’s father came suddenly and unexpectedly. After eight years of almost no contact, Will hadn’t expected to feel anything at all, and in a way he was right. But in another way he was completely wrong. He doesn’t feel nothing, what he feels is the absence of something, and it looms over him constantly like a heavy, unshakeable shadow, always present but never fully seen. There’s a knot in his stomach and a lump in his throat that won’t go away. He feels restless and incomplete. He feels the permanent burgeoning of something, like he’s on the brink of an abyss, and it scares him to death.

His initial response is diversion. Something that will distract him from the feeling and push it far, far away, so that he doesn’t have to deal with it. He tells himself it’s a temporary fix until he’s ready to feel whatever he needs to feel, even though he doesn’t really understand why he feels anything at all. His father was distant, aloof and often cold. They rarely saw eye to eye, and Will has hardly thought about him in the years that have passed since they last saw each other. Until now. Now he’ll never see or speak to him again.

Drinking works, for a time. One glass before bed to turn off his thoughts turns into a glass with dinner to make the evening pass by in a haze instead of a hardship, but it only continues to escalate. He finds himself craving the indistinctness in his head, the escape and the sanctuary that alcohol provides him, and quickly his temporary fix becomes a longer-term solution. A habit he can always rely on to fade every incomprehensible thing that he’s feeling down to nothing at all.

Will has never considered himself avoidant, but if he stopped to think about it he would probably realise that evading the intensity of his emotions has been a game in his life that he has long been the champion of. It feels, to him, that this new and unfamiliar emotional response requires a new and unfamiliar battle plan, and eventually, rather than considering himself an alcoholic, he considers himself a person who is simply existing the best way he can in a world filled with unpredictable horrors.

His father left him his house — the house Will grew up in, the house he left when he turned sixteen. He didn’t go far, he never could convince himself to leave more than a few towns away, but returning feels like visiting another planet, another lifetime. Seeing it again, empty and hollow, is eery and discomforting, but despite how he feels, Will finds the idea of selling it to a stranger almost unbearable.

The plan had been to come here, make arrangements and leave, but on his first day Will notices a leaking drain, then a hole in the fascia, and before he knows it he’s chopping wood out back like he did when he was a kid. Hours and hours lost to it until the store is overflowing. A house in the forest, secluded and solitary, but still close enough that he can drive into work. It should be a sanctuary, but there’s a part of Will that still feels grief sticking in his throat every time he stumbles across another memory in the attic.

He begins to inadvertently collect strays. They have a habit of finding the house, or finding Will. He realises that people often dump their unwanted pets on the edge of the forest, his forest, as if they know a man in need of a project to nurture lies in wait. He takes each and every one in, trains them diligently, walks them as a pack well into the night. The routine helps at first, but every time Will returns to his bottle of whisky and his endless, inescapable thoughts.

Eventually, Will realises the dogs and the alcohol in the quiet of his new home aren’t enough, and he finds himself trudging through the snow to a bar he’s passed several times but never once ventured inside of. Just to be somewhere new, just to feel something different.

That’s how he meets Hannibal.

Keep reading…

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me whenever I watch Tempo (2003), the most diabolical movie ever made

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I wrote a fic that answers the essential question: what would Will Graham do if he witnessed Hannibal in this position...?

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Abreaction

Rating: E

Will’s mouth is already watering, but he swallows it and affects an impassive expression. He’s still almost awed by the fact that when he asked for this, Hannibal said yes, almost immediately, without protest or query. He just looked into Will’s eyes and said yes. He isn’t exactly sure what made him want this so badly, but there’s a certain appeal to seeing Hannibal vulnerable, completely at the mercy of someone other than his own self. He’s been thinking about it ever since Hannibal first brought it up.

He doesn’t have a plan of action, as such, he’s just going to let his desire guide him, and when he steps back and drinks in the sight of Hannibal, practically crucified with the noose around his neck, his desire almost chokes him. A sensation he’s intimately familiar with snakes around his pelvis and up the inside of his thighs. Just the sight of Hannibal like this turns him on as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Is this how you imagined it, Will?” Hannibal asks him, his voice already tight from the noose.

They lock eyes, and Will licks his lips as he grinds the heel of his palm down over the hardness concealed within his jeans.

“Yes,” he says quietly, doing it again as he drops his gaze and watches Hannibal’s thighs twitch under the effort to balance. His eyes wander higher, gratified to learn that Hannibal is getting hard. He wonders if it’s driven by his vulnerable position or the sight of Will’s physical reaction to it. It could be neither or both.

Read more here...

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Hiiii ✨

Hinterland is now complete 🦊🌲 I can’t even believe it’s all over! Thank you to everyone who has read it and enjoyed it and left me a gorgeous comment. I’m so grateful 💜 now I have to decide what to write next!

You can read Chapter 6 here :)

If you haven’t read it yet, but would like to, here is the link from the beginning and here is a random preview:

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“Are you familiar with the concept of original sin?” Hannibal says softly behind him, and Will wants to laugh. He had known as soon as he’d brought it up that Hannibal would latch onto this random little thought and try to exploit it for his own gratification. Will is fully aware that he’s been manipulated, toyed with, coerced, but for some reason he doesn’t seem to care.

“Familiar enough,” Will says, eyes slowly opening again. He calmly searches for landmarks in the room to ground him. Paperweights, books, fountain pens, armchairs, building a list to occupy his mind.

“Were you taught about it in school?”

“I can’t recall.”

“Perhaps your father attended a church—“

“What point are you attempting to make…”

He can’t see it or hear it, but somehow he can feel Hannibal’s smile, the one that he wears when Will isn’t looking.

“It is the belief that humans inherit a tainted nature from birth. We are predisposed to sin because we are born sinners.”

Will licks his lips. His skin feels tight and hot. He realises that at some point he titled his head, no more than a fraction, but enough to draw Hannibal in. His nose is close to the shell of his ear now, tracing it gently. He can’t be any more than a centimetre away from pressing his chest against Will’s spine — he can feel the heat of him through his clothes.

“Inheritance does not condemn,” Will says, “There‘s always room for resistance. Even redemption. Or so I was told.”

“Resistance or abstinence?” Hannibal asks, dripping with intent.

“Resistance through abstinence,” Will says, clenching his jaw when Hannibal drifts in closer and closes the gap between them, hands gently resting on Will’s hips.

“Priests and theologians have often equated original sin with concupiscence. Hurtful desire. An ardent longing. The tendency of humanity to misuse the natural survival needs of the physical body.”

“Nothing is inevitable,” Will says weakly as his eyes close again.

“Everything is inevitable,” Hannibal counters, his voice close and tempting as Will turns his head, not much, but enough for Hannibal’s mouth to find the shelf of his cheek, “Everything.”

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ive worked on this for FAR too long but it was truly a labor of love. huge shoutout to @silversteampunk for designing the frames for this!

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you should be able to call into work if you get a story idea. like i’m really sorry i can’t come in today im going to need 72 hours off to cope with my visions of This Guy

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Hiii : ) My hannigram fic Begin to Blur has been translated into Spanish, yaaay. I've now added the link to AO3.

Enjoy, and thank you to CelestialNights5 on AO3 for translating it.

Te amo x

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Chapter fourrrr of Hinterland is up now if you’re reading it ^_^ get it while you can, AO3 is down tomorrow.

Here’s a lil preview:

Hannibal tilts his head as he absorbs this confession. It isn’t the one he was hoping for, or the one he expected, but regardless it fills him with a deep sense of satisfaction. He wets his lips as the idea of it starts to take shape in his head, bolstered by memories of Will joining him in the fight as they took down the dragon. He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. He still has hold of Will’s wrists between them, and he elects not to let go until Will pulls away. He’s already piecing together Will’s thought process, how he got here and what he thinks it means.

“It’s been… Polluting my mind,” Will says quietly, staring urgently into Hannibal’s eyes. They look so blue in this moment, heightened by a new kind of fear. A fear of himself. “I think about it often. What we did together. It’s like a disease inside my head.”

Hannibal traces his thumb over the veins in Will’s wrist, affecting an aura of compassionate understanding that he hopes masks how urgently he wants him amidst this violent confession.

“Do you miss that kind of power?” Hannibal asks, eyes falling to Will’s lips, watching the way they part just a little wider as he takes in air. He imagines stealing his breath away and keeping it for his own, ending this conversation with a kiss, showing Will what he could have if only he admitted to himself that he wanted it.

“Yes,” Will whispers, “I… I want to do it again… I want us to do it again.”

Read CH4 here :)

HINTERLAND CHAPTER 4 WHENNNNN I love it so much I love YOU so much thank you for your service

THIS WEEKEND BABEEEEE :3 I have basically finished this fic now, im abt 3-5k off finishing the final chapter ahhhh.

And I already know what I want to write next, the grind literally never stops when you’re hyperfixated I guesss…

I love you too xx

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HINTERLAND CHAPTER 4 WHENNNNN I love it so much I love YOU so much thank you for your service

THIS WEEKEND BABEEEEE :3 I have basically finished this fic now, im abt 3-5k off finishing the final chapter ahhhh.

And I already know what I want to write next, the grind literally never stops when you’re hyperfixated I guesss…

I love you too xx

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I know you get this a lot but your characterization is so sublime, so distinct regardless of what ship you write about, your Hannibal is just as canon as your Tom Wambsgans it’s actually crazy. and all your fics generate a movie in my head as I read. They’re so special to me. Hinterland is already so so good I can’t WAIT for more.

🥹 thank you SO much :3 I really do try v hard to make everyone sound like themselves so I’m always thrilled when people say this ahhh… And I’m so glad you’re enjoying Hinterland 🦊🌲 I love that little world so much, I love those little freaks so much.

Will probably post ch4 next week! Here it is so far if anyone hasn’t read it yet and would like to 💜

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Ao3 comments are truly the most special and beautiful and wonderful invention like one comment and for a few hours I believe I am good and talented instead of a useless, inept embarrassment, I love you comment leavers I owe u my life xx

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Chapter THREEEEEE is up, halfway there 💜✨ xx

Hiiiii 💜 long time no see! Missed you guys x

Just popping in to say I have written a slowburn hannigram fic 🫢 with plot and everything! Rest assured there will still be pastelwell-typical levels of ust and yearning :)

Here’s a little summary ✨

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Hinterland

Rating: E

He remembers the blood, inky black on Hannibal’s face, and his eyes ferocious with hunger. He remembers the chill of the night biting at his fingers as the plasma dries and becomes tacky. He remembers pressing his face into Hannibal’s chest and waiting for death, falling through the darkness towards an ocean that roars, the waves a welcoming maw to eternal nothingness.

When they crash into the water he believes it’s over. He followed his final impulse to do the right thing by his friends, his family, the world. The last flutters of morality within him had guided him, even as he looked into the eyes of a murderer who had somehow compelled his fall from grace. Here, in the frigid deep waters, their chapter is closed and their story is concluded. Except it isn’t. This is just the beginning.

His next conscious thought is the recognition that he’s dizzy and in pain, his body burning furiously despite the cold that surrounds him. There’s seawater in his mouth and he’s lost in a seemingly endless abyss of nothingness when strong arms heave him through the gloom towards the surface. The first thing he sees is the stars, glittering above him in a carpet of spilled ink. Hannibal’s hands feel hot even through his clothes, palms against his chest before they curl into fists and hold on tightly.

Will’s awareness slowly comes back to him, as if waking from a dream. He feels sluggish and heavy in the water, rocked by the waves but anchored by Hannibal, eyes still ferocious in a way that Will finds indulgently captivating. It takes a few long moments for Will to realise that they survived. That this is real and unending.

Continue reading…

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Chapter twoooo is now posted yay x

Hiiiii 💜 long time no see! Missed you guys x

Just popping in to say I have written a slowburn hannigram fic 🫢 with plot and everything! Rest assured there will still be pastelwell-typical levels of ust and yearning :)

Here’s a little summary ✨

~

Hinterland

Rating: E

He remembers the blood, inky black on Hannibal’s face, and his eyes ferocious with hunger. He remembers the chill of the night biting at his fingers as the plasma dries and becomes tacky. He remembers pressing his face into Hannibal’s chest and waiting for death, falling through the darkness towards an ocean that roars, the waves a welcoming maw to eternal nothingness.

When they crash into the water he believes it’s over. He followed his final impulse to do the right thing by his friends, his family, the world. The last flutters of morality within him had guided him, even as he looked into the eyes of a murderer who had somehow compelled his fall from grace. Here, in the frigid deep waters, their chapter is closed and their story is concluded. Except it isn’t. This is just the beginning.

His next conscious thought is the recognition that he’s dizzy and in pain, his body burning furiously despite the cold that surrounds him. There’s seawater in his mouth and he’s lost in a seemingly endless abyss of nothingness when strong arms heave him through the gloom towards the surface. The first thing he sees is the stars, glittering above him in a carpet of spilled ink. Hannibal’s hands feel hot even through his clothes, palms against his chest before they curl into fists and hold on tightly.

Will’s awareness slowly comes back to him, as if waking from a dream. He feels sluggish and heavy in the water, rocked by the waves but anchored by Hannibal, eyes still ferocious in a way that Will finds indulgently captivating. It takes a few long moments for Will to realise that they survived. That this is real and unending.

Continue reading…

[pastelwell]

Hiiiii 💜 long time no see! Missed you guys x

Just popping in to say I have written a slowburn hannigram fic 🫢 with plot and everything! Rest assured there will still be pastelwell-typical levels of ust and yearning :)

Here’s a little summary ✨

~

Hinterland

Rating: E

He remembers the blood, inky black on Hannibal’s face, and his eyes ferocious with hunger. He remembers the chill of the night biting at his fingers as the plasma dries and becomes tacky. He remembers pressing his face into Hannibal’s chest and waiting for death, falling through the darkness towards an ocean that roars, the waves a welcoming maw to eternal nothingness.

When they crash into the water he believes it’s over. He followed his final impulse to do the right thing by his friends, his family, the world. The last flutters of morality within him had guided him, even as he looked into the eyes of a murderer who had somehow compelled his fall from grace. Here, in the frigid deep waters, their chapter is closed and their story is concluded. Except it isn’t. This is just the beginning.

His next conscious thought is the recognition that he’s dizzy and in pain, his body burning furiously despite the cold that surrounds him. There’s seawater in his mouth and he’s lost in a seemingly endless abyss of nothingness when strong arms heave him through the gloom towards the surface. The first thing he sees is the stars, glittering above him in a carpet of spilled ink. Hannibal’s hands feel hot even through his clothes, palms against his chest before they curl into fists and hold on tightly.

Will’s awareness slowly comes back to him, as if waking from a dream. He feels sluggish and heavy in the water, rocked by the waves but anchored by Hannibal, eyes still ferocious in a way that Will finds indulgently captivating. It takes a few long moments for Will to realise that they survived. That this is real and unending.

Continue reading…

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Here, have some last minute fic previews!

These were written by our very talented contributors: @/online_picasso on twitter, @pastelwell, @/rubyduck_, @gregkinz, @emblematik, & @tomwambsgans, who can all be found on Ao3 under the author names shown in the graphics above!

Pre-order our zine before our shop closes tonight at http://tomgregzine.bigcartel.com

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Have you seen any of Hugh Dancy's films? Because my friend and I are making our way through them and wow, they're mostly terrible, but he is very pretty

I’ve seen a couple! My friend and I have actually been working through Mads’ filmography recently and as part of that we did King Arthur (world���s most boring movie but enjoyed every moment of Mads and Hugh 😭)

I HAVE heard Hugh’s filmography is terrible and I am genuinely quite PUMPED to get stuck in! Hoping to watch Tempo next week, exclusively bc of this:

But you’re right he is so pretty soooo pretty the most beautiful perfect angel just look at him I—

I just love him…

Also I just finished listening to By Nightfall today, the audiobook he quite famously read and omg… He did the most amazing job and I inadvertently discovered my new favourite book. What a world!

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Hannibal 2x09 - “Shiizakana”