pastelwell
pastelwell
PastelWell
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I have an incurably romantic imagination... Ask me anything | Read my fics
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pastelwell · 7 days ago
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Made my little gay list of activities x
I’m going to Florence in ONE WEEK and I’m sooo excited ahhhh :3 couldn’t resist the Hannibal pilgrimage 💜
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pastelwell · 8 days ago
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Wowee ZOWEE, thank you for 400 kudos on my beloved fic post-s3 Hinterland! Not at all bad for a show that ended 10 years ago :’)
Thank youuuu to everyone who has read it, enjoyed it, commented on it, kudos’d it, I love you allllll SO much!
And if you haven’t got around to it yet, let me entice you with the opening segment and some ✨aesthetic images✨
Hinterland
Will Graham grapples with the reality of who he really is and what he truly wants (AKA what happens after season 3 - PastelWell's Version.)
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.
“Tell me. Why did you do that, Will?” Hannibal asks him, treading water, gasping for air. Will diagnoses a collapsed lung, perhaps some broken ribs; injuries that likely mirror his own. It’s a miracle they’re alive. Is this god’s plan or Hannibal’s? It certainly wasn’t Will’s.
He considers the question as he looks at Hannibal’s face, the moonlight casting shadows that make him look ethereal and alien.
“I was curious,” he says eventually, the water around him churning red in the waves. It’s true, up to a point. He was forever changed upon that clifftop and did what he thought was right whilst he still possessed a grasp on his moral compass. His shoulder feels sharp and his left arm feels loose, limp on the water, but in this moment he hardly feels it, “I wanted… To see what would happen.”
The smile that bleeds across Hannibal’s face is disturbing and beautiful; it matches the tsunami that rages in his dark eyes perfectly. Then he kisses Will hard, and it tastes of iron and salt water, a desperate fitting together of mouths that have yearned for far too long. Will returns it with a vigour that’s been building in his chest since the day they met, because he needs it and because he wants it, even though he loathes it in equal measure. It’s a kiss that is painful and desperate, and then a wave crashes over them, smothering them both.
Will is tempted to succumb to it, let his lungs fill with water and fade away to nothing, but he knows Hannibal won’t let him die for as long as he lives. Their path has been chosen, their destination as yet unknown.
Hannibal heaves him to shore, the lesser damaged of them both, and Will collapses into his side, exhausted and tired and unable to comprehend what he was thinking. The longer he’s conscious the sharper his mind becomes, the more aware he is of what he’s done and what it means. What he has to do next. He closes his eyes, desperate for peace and an escape from the present. He’s alive but he feels like he has no life left in him at all, dead weight at the water’s edge.
“I’ll make a place for us,” Hannibal says to him, methodically taking hold of Will’s limp arm and wrenching it back into its socket for him.
The pain is unbelievable as Will doubles over, burying his face into Hannibal’s thigh as he cries out in pain. Nausea rolls over him in a rush that he swallows back, breathing hard through his nose as the pain slowly ebbs away, replaced in time by the burn of salt bleeding into his many, many wounds.
“And I’ll take care of you. I’ll put you back together. Better than before.”
Will shakes his head, so much adrenaline coursing through his veins that he’s shaking hard, sprawled across Hannibal’s lap like a sacrifice at an altar.
“I can’t,” he grits out. ‘My family’ gets stuck in his throat. It doesn’t feel wise to mention them, but he does think of them, even as he starts to pass out. His vision is blurring at the edges, darkness getting darker.
“This is where I’d intended to bring us,” Hannibal pants, running the flat of his palm up and down Will’s back, the repetitive motion soothing his tightly coiled frame and easing some of his nausea.
Will exhales a mirthless laugh into the sodden fabric of Hannibal’s pants, “The shores of a cliff edge?”
With great difficulty he heaves himself upright, almost collapsing back into the sea before Hannibal yanks him back with a hand in his collar. It brings them close together again, breathing each other’s air as Hannibal smiles and looks up at his home on the cliff.
“This was the place I intended to make. For you and for me. For Abigail.”
Abigail. The word feels sharp in the air even now, and it wounds Will deeper than any mark the Dragon left on his skin. He’s so tired and so beaten and so fragile that it makes him want to sob, or howl at the moon for what he’s lost. What he’s losing. But he has nothing left to give, nothing at all as his head thunks down onto Hannibal’s shoulder.
“We can’t stay here,” he grits out instead of everything else he wants to say. He finally gives in to temptation and closes his eyes, listening to the crash of the waves as it harmonises with the rise and fall of their breathing.
“Not forever,” Hannibal replies, “But we can for now.”
Keep reading…
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pastelwell · 12 days ago
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I’m going to Florence in ONE WEEK and I’m sooo excited ahhhh :3 couldn’t resist the Hannibal pilgrimage 💜
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pastelwell · 17 days ago
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Obsessively
New hannigram fic ✨
This one is a bit diff to usual, I got rly obsessed w how Hannibal and Will are perceived by other characters and then before you know it WHOOPS I wrote this!
Lil preview below, plssss give it a read, I think you’ll like it xx
~
PREVIEW
“You are obsessed with Will Graham.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“Obsessively.”
It’s the first time she’s dared to say it, but she’s thought it for a long time. All the signs were there, overt in their nature, for Hannibal at least, but she can’t understand it. She cannot understand what draws him to Will Graham, given the things she’s learned about him. With everything she knows of Hannibal, she simply cannot fathom his interest.
The confusion must be showing on her face because Hannibal starts to smile in lieu of a response. He’s waiting for her to draw her own conclusions. He wants her to psychoanalyse him.
“I must admit, I’m curious about your motives,” she begins slowly, “It’s so rare that you take such a… Special interest in people.”
“Not since you,” Hannibal says lightly, “How does that make you feel?”
Bedelia smiles tightly at him, “I’m not competitive in that way,” she says, “I’m not possessive by nature. Something we do not share in common.”
Hannibal’s smile falters very slightly at the edges, like a ripple at the water’s edge, “Intrigue does not typically breed possession,” he says.
“Not typically,” she says, “But owing to what I know of your nature, I would say it’s… Inevitable, in its way.”
Hannibal takes a slow, careful breath, and she finds herself watching his chest as it moves. A measured rise and fall, control in every facet of his being.
“You think I want Will to myself.”
“I believe that you’re not partial to sharing the object of your obsession. Your need for control will encourage you to isolate him, so that you are his only influence.”
“Is that so?” Hannibal asks, coyly.
“Yes,” she whispers firmly, because she’s seen it all before, and she’s seeing it now. Will’s incarceration cannot be the start of it, but it’s definitely connected. She knows it because she herself has been the test subject in Hannibal’s experiments, which is another thing that perplexes her.
Will Graham is not like either of them; nothing like Hannibal, nothing like herself. Will Graham is an anomaly to the trend. The psychiatrist in her demands to know why, wants to find out where this came from, how it started, why Will of all people was the one to turn Hannibal’s head. Will’s relationship with empathy makes him special, and Hannibal has always had a penchant for society’s more specialised individuals, but besides that she cannot understand what the catalyst is; how Will has managed to so acutely snare Hannibal’s affections so powerfully that she can see it written all over his face as she looks at him.
She understands well enough what Will’s interest in Hannibal might look like. Hannibal is unique, too. Ostentatious yet often inconspicuous. Warm yet terribly, achingly cold. Alluring yet terrifying, this one she knows particularly well because she has always been drawn to Hannibal, despite a lingering sickness in her stomach that reminds her that she’s in danger; balanced on a knife edge at all times. It’s understandable that Will would want to delve into this world, as she has, but she can’t understand what makes Hannibal want to delve into Will’s.
Keep reading…
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pastelwell · 17 days ago
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pastelwell · 2 months ago
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We’re now on chapter threeeeee!
So many people have subscribed for updates I am genuinely mind boggled, thanku for coming along with this little fic and reading it and supporting me and sending cute comments and messages, I love u all SO much, more than you will ever know 💜💜💜
Final chapter/sort of epilogue is coming soooon, I am just embellishing it and editing it and overthinking it as I am wont to do ✨
I have posted a new hannigram fic ahhh! More plotty than I’m used to so naturally I am wildly self-conscious and worried about it hooraaaayyy! Please be nice, love you x
Means to an end
After the events of Mizumono (S2E13), Jack goes a little off the rails. In an effort to lure Hannibal back and save Will from himself, he kidnaps Will and fakes his death. His plan works, but not in the way he expects...
PREVIEW:
“What do you…” Will starts, then trails off. He can see it already, forming in his mind. Knowing Jack as he does, this all feels suddenly like deja vu. Like he should have seen it coming… “Why are you doing this?”
Jack looks bemused by this question, “You know why.”
“I want you to tell me. I want to hear you say it,” Will says, darkly.
Jack considers this for a moment, and Will can see in his eyes the precise moment he considers turning around and leaving Will’s request in the dead air between them. But then, pride prevails. Superiority in the face of a junior, the urge to share a clever scheme clearly too tempting.
“Will Graham is dead. Complications at the hospital, injuries too complex, you were beyond saving. Just another victim of the Ripper. And when Lecter sees that you’re dead, that he played a part in your death, he’ll come back for you.”
“And why would he do that?” Will asks, but it comes out weak, “He’ll either… Sense that it’s a trap and ignore it, or he’ll be disinterested. He tried to kill me Jack, why would he return if he got what he wanted? He has no reason to… To care about me. About that.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Jack chides, and something in that statement makes Will’s stomach twist in on itself, his chest aching fiercely.
“You don’t know him—” like I do, Will almost finishes, but realises too late that statements like that aren’t going to help his case.
“I know that he will want to be sure. And I know as well as you do that he didn’t intend to kill you that night. Even if he senses a trap, he’ll consider himself too clever to be caught. He will come back for you. To claim you, one way or another.”
Read more…
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pastelwell · 2 months ago
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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Just posted chapter 2 💜✨
I have posted a new hannigram fic ahhh! More plotty than I’m used to so naturally I am wildly self-conscious and worried about it hooraaaayyy! Please be nice, love you x
Means to an end
After the events of Mizumono (S2E13), Jack goes a little off the rails. In an effort to lure Hannibal back and save Will from himself, he kidnaps Will and fakes his death. His plan works, but not in the way he expects...
PREVIEW:
“What do you…” Will starts, then trails off. He can see it already, forming in his mind. Knowing Jack as he does, this all feels suddenly like deja vu. Like he should have seen it coming… “Why are you doing this?”
Jack looks bemused by this question, “You know why.”
“I want you to tell me. I want to hear you say it,” Will says, darkly.
Jack considers this for a moment, and Will can see in his eyes the precise moment he considers turning around and leaving Will’s request in the dead air between them. But then, pride prevails. Superiority in the face of a junior, the urge to share a clever scheme clearly too tempting.
“Will Graham is dead. Complications at the hospital, injuries too complex, you were beyond saving. Just another victim of the Ripper. And when Lecter sees that you’re dead, that he played a part in your death, he’ll come back for you.”
“And why would he do that?” Will asks, but it comes out weak, “He’ll either… Sense that it’s a trap and ignore it, or he’ll be disinterested. He tried to kill me Jack, why would he return if he got what he wanted? He has no reason to… To care about me. About that.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Jack chides, and something in that statement makes Will’s stomach twist in on itself, his chest aching fiercely.
“You don’t know him—” like I do, Will almost finishes, but realises too late that statements like that aren’t going to help his case.
“I know that he will want to be sure. And I know as well as you do that he didn’t intend to kill you that night. Even if he senses a trap, he’ll consider himself too clever to be caught. He will come back for you. To claim you, one way or another.”
Read more…
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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Thank youuuu for the kudos, comments, cutie reblogs etc etc 🥹 I love you guys xx chapter two SOON!
I have posted a new hannigram fic ahhh! More plotty than I’m used to so naturally I am wildly self-conscious and worried about it hooraaaayyy! Please be nice, love you x
Means to an end
After the events of Mizumono (S2E13), Jack goes a little off the rails. In an effort to lure Hannibal back and save Will from himself, he kidnaps Will and fakes his death. His plan works, but not in the way he expects...
PREVIEW:
“What do you…” Will starts, then trails off. He can see it already, forming in his mind. Knowing Jack as he does, this all feels suddenly like deja vu. Like he should have seen it coming… “Why are you doing this?”
Jack looks bemused by this question, “You know why.”
“I want you to tell me. I want to hear you say it,” Will says, darkly.
Jack considers this for a moment, and Will can see in his eyes the precise moment he considers turning around and leaving Will’s request in the dead air between them. But then, pride prevails. Superiority in the face of a junior, the urge to share a clever scheme clearly too tempting.
“Will Graham is dead. Complications at the hospital, injuries too complex, you were beyond saving. Just another victim of the Ripper. And when Lecter sees that you’re dead, that he played a part in your death, he’ll come back for you.”
“And why would he do that?” Will asks, but it comes out weak, “He’ll either… Sense that it’s a trap and ignore it, or he’ll be disinterested. He tried to kill me Jack, why would he return if he got what he wanted? He has no reason to… To care about me. About that.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Jack chides, and something in that statement makes Will’s stomach twist in on itself, his chest aching fiercely.
“You don’t know him—” like I do, Will almost finishes, but realises too late that statements like that aren’t going to help his case.
“I know that he will want to be sure. And I know as well as you do that he didn’t intend to kill you that night. Even if he senses a trap, he’ll consider himself too clever to be caught. He will come back for you. To claim you, one way or another.”
Read more…
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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I have posted a new hannigram fic ahhh! More plotty than I’m used to so naturally I am wildly self-conscious and worried about it hooraaaayyy! Please be nice, love you x
Means to an end
After the events of Mizumono (S2E13), Jack goes a little off the rails. In an effort to lure Hannibal back and save Will from himself, he kidnaps Will and fakes his death. His plan works, but not in the way he expects...
PREVIEW:
“What do you…” Will starts, then trails off. He can see it already, forming in his mind. Knowing Jack as he does, this all feels suddenly like deja vu. Like he should have seen it coming… “Why are you doing this?”
Jack looks bemused by this question, “You know why.”
“I want you to tell me. I want to hear you say it,” Will says, darkly.
Jack considers this for a moment, and Will can see in his eyes the precise moment he considers turning around and leaving Will’s request in the dead air between them. But then, pride prevails. Superiority in the face of a junior, the urge to share a clever scheme clearly too tempting.
“Will Graham is dead. Complications at the hospital, injuries too complex, you were beyond saving. Just another victim of the Ripper. And when Lecter sees that you’re dead, that he played a part in your death, he’ll come back for you.”
“And why would he do that?” Will asks, but it comes out weak, “He’ll either… Sense that it’s a trap and ignore it, or he’ll be disinterested. He tried to kill me Jack, why would he return if he got what he wanted? He has no reason to… To care about me. About that.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Jack chides, and something in that statement makes Will’s stomach twist in on itself, his chest aching fiercely.
“You don’t know him—” like I do, Will almost finishes, but realises too late that statements like that aren’t going to help his case.
“I know that he will want to be sure. And I know as well as you do that he didn’t intend to kill you that night. Even if he senses a trap, he’ll consider himself too clever to be caught. He will come back for you. To claim you, one way or another.”
Read more…
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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love this scene. Will takes a drag from the mug like he is unfamiliar with beverages that aren't whiskey &whole time this guy is watching him the way a cartoon poacher looks at an endangered species through binoculars
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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Hi hi I’m new to the succession fandom (late pass I know) but I just wanted to pop in and let you know that your Tomgreg fics are so, SO good. Thank you for your service. Hope to see more from you if the inspiration strikes!!!
Oh you’re so so sweet, THANK YOU very much! And welcome!! I am genuinely overjoyed that new tomgregs are being born every day and my silly lil fics are there to greet them :3
I’m so glad you have enjoyed them, and who knows, maybe my TG brainrot will come back around in the future and I will post a surprise tomgreg fic for funsies xx
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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hello pastelwell <3 will we get more fics in 2025? I would read an entire pastel novel just fwiw
You know what it is lowkey my goal to complete a pastel novel in 2025. The main thing I struggle with w OC is coming up with authentic characters, it’s so much easier borrowing existing ones and plonking them into a Situation, but recently I came up with an idea and some characters and I am just obsessed with it, haven’t stopped thinking about it, so… I rly want to try and do it. I WILL PROB FAIL, I’ve been trying to do this for years haha, but I’ll try my best around my silly lil fic projects.
SPEAKING OF FIC I am finishing something now that I hope to start posting in the next couple of weeks! And my bestie inspired a new idea literally yesterday that I’d like to work on next… I always have something on the go, I have literally like 50 half finished projects and drabbles, really need to start finishing things this year! I get rly anxious about posting sometimes. Not sure when that started bc I used to post tomgreg like a machine, but I WAS unemployed during the first half of my tomgreg era. Now I am a responsible working grown up and have less time :(
These rambles I keep going on totally unprompted omg sorry love you xx
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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hi laura! I just wanted to say happy new year and thank you for your fics, I read and reread them, I talk about them with my friends, I really just love everything you write. I read your hannibal fics without even watching the show bc I love your writing so much and now that I’m watching it can’t believe just how perfectly you nail their voices. though I shouldn’t be surprised, your tomgreg was sublime in that way too. Hope you’re doing well!
🥹 oh my gosh this is crazyyyy /POS! /POS!!! What a huge compliment! WHAT DID U THINK. I rewatched recently and it made me genuinely insane, I always forget how explicitly homoerotic it is, like they really went there… they really made them in love… FASCINATING. Like, truly I am obsessed w toxic complex awful intense love and Hannibal has it in spades and spades and spades. What a joy. Suits the way I like to write so well, u know I’m weak for deeply intense romance…
Anyway! THANK YOU, I always get compliments on my characterisation, I should start taking them to heart more bc it’s like… the main thing I strive to get right, I feel like that’s what makes writing fun. So I’m glad I get it right sometimes :3
I still think about tomgreg a lot btw, especially recently, I’ve been having PANGS. Tom Wambsgans will always be my beloved xxx
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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ive been such a mega pastelwell fan for the longest time and i need you to know that hinterland is just the most exquisite fic of all time, just the most perfect post-fall fic… the world you have built is so cozy and intense i want to live there, thank you for sharing it with us!!
Oh thank you so much! Honestly I get soooo happy when people love hinterland, I never reread a fic I’ve written after I’ve posted it bc I get all weird and anxious that I might spot a glaring error, but I’ve been dipping my toe and rereading it a bit lately and I am so proud of it actually, the dialogue is pretty ok isn’t it :3
Did I tell you guys I made a Pinterest board for it?? I probably did I can’t remember, but I was so immersed I couldn’t help it lmao it just makes me feel cosy and comfy too thinking about it. This is it if you’re interested.
Thank you for reading and SO SORRY for the huge delay in answering, it’s been months. I love love love loooveee getting messages and comments but have no idea how to respond to praise in a sufficiently grateful manner so I overthink it and procrastinate responding! But pls don’t ever stop messaging me! I LOVE U THANK U xxx
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pastelwell · 3 months ago
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hinterland literally changed my life, every chapter took my breath away, it’s like reading season 4, I’ve never read a fic with such amazing characterization, I’ll think about it forever, thank you
This is so nice, thank YOU so so sooo much… I have been thinking lately that Hinterland is probably the best thing I’ve ever written and I may never write something that good ever again, truly the muses spoke through me for that fic, i hope they come back for future ones 🙏🏻
(have been neglecting my asks so sorry in advance for the spam)
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pastelwell · 6 months ago
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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 :)
~
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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