#Hannibal makes a passing comment about it

[theshatteringoftheteacup]

just learned the science behind squirting and plan to write the most educational fanfiction I’ve ever written

[patchouii]

Sometimes I watch the show and try to think of Hannibal’s perspective and it’s a total trip. Like. Imagine you’ve been able to control and pick and choose your emotions and reactions your whole life, due to being somehow psychopath-adjacent. And the only time you couldn’t was when you were little with your baby sister, and it’s probable that as your brain matured, the possibility of feeling and forming connections like that dried up entirely. You read the psychiatric journals, and occasionally there’s something about a man who can connect with others so deeply he can become an echo of them. And then you meet this man, and he mocks your comment about eye contact while holding yours.

An understanding passes between both of you that you have hidden depths. Instead of killing him, you bring him breakfast, and make him dinner, and serve him drinks. Instead of being able to toy with his mind without a care, you think of him and your chest clenches, and your gut swoops, and his face and voice and his rude little barbs invade your mind like glittering parasites that you can’t remove. These feelings are alien, and they’re also yours. You know, deep down, why you’re letting him live, why you stare after him, why you toe the line of risking it all for him. But you don’t want to face it. It’s terrifying, this horizon of who you are and can be that looms before you with no choice of your own.

Framing him presents a convenient opportunity for ridding yourself of this thing he brings on in you, this total lack of control, this fever-dream surrender that breaches the walls of your mind and the tics and tells of your body so effortlessly— but you miss him. You don’t miss anyone, and the one person you do is more of an imago that never was able to grow into her own real person. But the you you’ve helplessly become certainly does. You’ve become an addict. You cannot let him rot when his presence gave your monochrome world color, you can’t quit the drug you’ve always shunned. This is all a devil’s bargain, certainly, but you’ve already damned yourself, and all that’s left to do is plunge further. Oh and by the way. The infuriating man in question looks like this:

Like okay then, good luck not having the crashout of the century 😭

[dumbbitchenergy17]

BTS: Where the Wild Things Are

Plot: An audition leads to unforgettable moments on a hit show.

Word Count: 6.3K

Pairing: Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: fake fight scene, protective Paul and Pedro, fluff, potential spoilers to Where the Wild Things Are [read here]

—————

The cityscape was something you welcomed, honking traffic, people shouting in the streets, and the chaos and beauty that came from living in New York. Your partner on the other hand was still adjusting, having moved in about 4 months ago. In that time so much has occurred, hosting SNL, attending premieres for films you both starred in as well as attending award shows that you had the honor of presenting an award at one. The most recent event that passed was the Met Gala and your birthday was now on the latest agenda. You hear the front door unlock over the light music and traffic from outside before clicking shut.

“I got bagels for the birthday girl,” Paul calls out coming from the entryway to find you curled up on the couch watching Hannibal the last show on your binge list. He comes from behind the sofa and you pause to lean back and look at him upside down as he gives a charming smile.

“How was your run babe?” You ask accepting the sweet kiss he gives before coming around easily sinking into the couch. His headphones around his neck, he’s dressed in a cap, a sleeveless t-shirt, and those shorts he loves.

“I found this runner’s route about 3 miles and got to see some of the sights around here before I got hungry for food,” He says while pulling out the two sandwiches, “Made sure it was an everything bagel before I left.” He passes yours over you smile quickly feasting on the treat.

“Wow my order is finally right, it’s a birthday miracle.” You tease and he rolls his eyes eating his sandwich.

“Ran into these two nice girls as I was leaving and got a picture they also said happy birthday. I was surprised they even recognized me.” He comments and you poke with your free hand his bare sweaty thigh.

“It’s those damn shorts, they’re a magnet to any Paul Mescal fan in a 20-mile radius.” Since he moved into your cozy apartment in Greenwich Village those shorts have become a staple in his New York City lifestyle. You’ve never seen more paparazzi photos of him in shorts since he moved here.

He smirks leaning close to you, “Are these shorts a magnet to you?” He flirts as he raises a brow only making you snort. The moment is cut off by your phone ringing seeing it is a call from your agent. Paul groans at the name, “Don’t they know it’s your birthday that means no work.”

“Oh hush, they’re probably calling to say happy birthday,” You say getting up to enter the home office. You knew most likely it was that but also something you’ve been sorta keeping from Paul and also Pedro and Bella. So during that interview, the year prior involving a certain video game that had a book it was mentioned of a potential fan-casting involving you. You joked about being involved just to appease the fans of the hit show. It was only after the Emmys with your win that news came out of the hit video game book Where the Wild Things Are was being adapted into a spin-off series from The Last of Us. Immediately the world blew up, with fan-casting and speculations of when what, and who. You were excited to see a novel you enjoyed being adapted but it was only when you got an email sent from your agent and told to record a self-tape that you recognized the scene and what was being asked of you. That was a month ago when you sent in the tape and it was only this week you heard back that you got the job. Luckily Paul was busy with his projects and promotions so it was easy to be at virtual meetings or having to fly out to LA for negotiations with The Last of Us team and your team under the guise of negotiation for the latest Star Wars film you were meant to start in.

“Hey Cathy,” You answer while closing the office door behind you.

“Happy birthday Y/n I hope you’re enjoying your day,” She greets you.

“It’s been good relaxing, definitely mentally preparing myself for whatever Paul and Pedro have planned for tonight.” That makes her laugh. It was good with everyone in the city for the Met Gala they planned to remain for your birthday. It was all planned out with spending the day with your childhood friends the day before as a pre-celebration. You weren’t sure what they had planned but with Pedro involved it could only be as crazy as your twenty-first.

“Well be safe tonight, but I just got off the phone with Jeanine. She says Craig and Neil are all good on their end with the paperwork. We’ll send you an email in regards to obtaining your script and any upcoming schedule. News of your casting will be drafted up soon to be published,” She says and you smile, “But tonight enjoy your night with your friends and family.”

“Thank you so much, Cathy. Guess now is a better time than ever to tell them I auditioned and got it.” You hear her gasp on the other line.

“You haven’t told them you auditioned?!” You shrink pacing the office looking over the collage you have on the wall at your desk. Photos of your friends and family, but also photos on sets, from your earliest projects to even now. Your favorite is of you and Paul in Malta exploring the city together. You had tried getting a nice photo of the two of you until a kind couple offered to take it for you. You guys weren’t even looking at the camera as it's taken mid-laughter, your head thrown back mid-laugh while Paul has a cheesy grin having just told a joke to get you to smile.

“I was gonna tell them when I knew I got a callback, then it just felt right to surprise them. So now here we are, I’m gonna see them all tonight so best time to tell them.” You say with a laugh and you hear her sigh on the other end.

“Well enjoy your night and congrats again!”

When your friends and family let your boyfriend and second father-figure to plan your birthday you had to know they had something crazy planned. When you first got with Paul your birthday was only shortly after you made it official so you didn’t do anything insane with him. You guys had a nice dinner with live music together and he got you a gift card to one of your favorite stores. But with you know a year together and knowing each other you’re not sure what he has in mind.

It was immediately swept away by your glam team who completely pampered you with your favorite rituals, cocktails, and Frank Ocean. Elvira keeps your hair in its natural style leaving it down, René creates this sultry look with accents of pink glitter across your lids.

“Guys what hell,” You gasp when Juliano reveals a gorgeous pink set from Brielle that you’ve been dying to wear, from the lace leggings, the asymmetrical mini skirt, the off-the-shoulder gloved top with squared jewels as the button of the opening at your wrists and on the skirt, to the scarf with a large gem buckle. Even down to a new pair of shoes that match perfectly.

“Don’t look at us, this is all your lovely boyfriend’s doing we just made sure it was in your measurements,” Juliano says and your eyes start watering up about to cry.

“No! None of that I just did a sickening eyeliner just for you to ruin it!” René scolds you fanning your tears away and you force yourself to suck them back.

“I’m sorry okay,” You take a deep breath before giving a big smile, “I’m all good I swear no tears I promise.”

The three of them pull you into a hug, “Alright go get dressed, enjoy tonight!” Juliano says pressing kisses to your cheeks.

You give them all looks, “You have any idea what those two have planned?” They all give devilish smiles completely aware.

“We have been sworn to secrecy for this,” Elvira locks her mouth before throwing away the key. You groan making the three laugh before they all head out to let you get dressed. Deciding to add a pair of square diamonds to match the whole ensemble when you hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” You call out seeing from the reflection Paul enters freshly showered and dressed in a casual black suit the first few buttons undone. You can see him drinking up your appearance as he slowly stalks over as you put in one of your earrings.

“Hi, handsome.” You smile as his hands rest your hips pressing featherlight kisses across your shoulder slowly creeping up to your neck. “Thank you for the outfit.” He just hums continuing his path of kisses you hear him inhale slightly the scent of your perfume as you put your other earring in.

“I kinda regret planning this whole elaborate birthday night,” He mutters into your skin and you can feel his body heat against your back fully pressing up against you wrapping you up in his arms, “Just wanna rip these clothes off and give your birthday gift.” He bites at the crook of your neck drawing a gasp mixed with a laugh from you.

“Down boy,” You spin in his arms leaning against your dresser letting your fingers twirl the curls at the base of his neck, “As much as I would enjoy your gift. I intend to take this pretty outfit out at least once to celebrate my birthday with our friends and family before you quote ‘rip these clothes off’ end quote.” That makes Paul chuckle pressing a kiss to your lips before sighing and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Fine let’s go see all our friends and make you happy,” He grabs your hand and guides you out of your apartment.

You laugh as you follow after your sulking boyfriend, “Don’t act like you’re not gonna enjoy whatever crazy shit you and Pedro planned.” You're unsure whether to be excited or scared about what they have planned.

It started with a nice dinner just between the two of you. Nothing too crazy a simple romantic dinner with a drink or two. You were getting nervous as the night continued letting Paul lead you through the streets constantly glancing at his watch for the time.

“You’re making me nervous, Paul, " you say as you cross the street, your heels clacking against the pavement. You hold his arm, guiding him out of the way of other people walking, his gaze glued to his phone.

“We’re here!” He stops abruptly in front of a building that looks very pretty. He leans you inside before speaking briefly to the receptionist who scans you in before entering an elevator and pressing the roof floor.

“Paul, what do you have planned?” You give him a questioning look as the floor number increases and he only gives a bright smile.

“Don’t worry,” He presses a kiss to your temple as you reach the top floor exiting and are immediately bombarded by loud confetti cannons go off as you both turn the corner.

“Surprise!” A chorus of people shocked to see so many people there, your family, college friends, coworkers, actor friends, and people from all aspects of your life. The entire place is decked out in decorations, an open bar, and a DJ playing your favorite songs. There’s a cheesy grin on your face spotting Pedro beside Oscar Issac with party blowers in their mouths. A good portion is reuniting with people you haven’t seen over music and drinks, finally making your way to your core group. Bella practically tackles you with a hug most definitely a few drinks.

“Happy birthday gorgeous,” They cheese and you return an exactly as bright one.

Pedro quickly gives a bear hug pressing a kiss to your temple. “Happy birthday chiquita.”

Bella claps their hands, “Wait picture!” they pull their phone out and you roll your eyes striking a peace sign while Pedro gives a kissy face. Paul stands beside Bella laughing at your antics. The beginning of ‘Thinkin' Bout You’ by Frank Ocean comes on and you grin.

“I love this song,” You start dancing but Bella shakes their head.

“No hold still the last one was blurry,” Holding up their phone you return to your pose with Pedro, how you didn’t spot the mischievous looks on their faces until it was too late.

“A tornado flew around my room before you came,” Frank Ocean's live voice comes through the speakers and your jaw drops. Immediate laughter from them and cheers from those around you as you whip around to see the DJ booth behind you. “Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in South California.” There he was in all his glory Frank fucking Ocean singing at you.

“Holy Shit!” You scream fangirling at this point. You cover your face with your hands in shock, feeling someone come from behind pulling your hands down.

“Happy birthday,” Paul whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss. You’re glad he held you as you sang along, or you probably would’ve collapsed. You’re practically floating once he finishes, wishing you a happy birthday, hugging you, and taking a picture! Fourteen-year-old you can die happily now.

“How the fuck did you do that,” You ask still in awe cradling the custom birthday cocktail made for you. They had pulled out all the stops.

“Pedro cashed in a favor to Omar who’s friends with him,” Paul says and you spot Pedro over with his singer friend Omar Apollo who is speaking to Frank.

“Paul this is insane…like this has to be the best birthday ever.” You say.

Oscar comments in passing, “Better than your twenty-first?” That makes you burst out laughing. The infamous 21st birthday was one in the history books even if you have zero memory of it, only videos and photos serve as it.

“Seriously this is ridiculous. I love you so much.” You kiss him and he doesn’t reject answering it in kindness.

With more music and drinking the party was well celebrated but soon winded down with your core group and family there. You were sorting through the gifts received as music plays.

“Shut up P, the fuck is this?” You laugh holding what looks like a bouquet but instead of flowers, it is gift cards taped onto sticks.

“A bouquet of gift cards duh,” He says while sipping his beer, “All your favorite places from father number 2.” That makes your parents laugh and your father claps Pedro’s shoulder.

You put the gift off to the side, “Thank you, Pedro these will be gone in the week.” Paul rubs circles on your shoulder as you lean into him.

“I have something for you as well,” You look at him surprised.

“Paul you're kidding, right? You’ve already done so much tonight.” He shakes his head getting up.

“You’re my girlfriend. You think I’m not going to get you a gift. Now close your eyes” he says before heading off behind you. Bella and your sister make gagging noises and your mother shushes them.

“Paul if it’s a dog or something like that. I am not ready to be a mother,” your comments make the others laugh. Paul's chuckle comes close again and you hear the clunk of something resting on the outdoor coffee table.

“Okay open.” Opening your eyes you see a case immediately recognizing the familiar shape.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Paul teases as you frantically fumble to open the latches with your gloves revealing a gorgeous caramel acoustic guitar. Pulling the guitar out of the case someone moves it to the side looking over how beautiful it is.

“This is exactly what I wanted.” You look over at Paul with teary eyes and he swipes a stray one before it falls, “Thank you.” You pull him into a hug and you hear your mother coo to your father at the two of you.

“That's so sweet of you Paul.” She smiles as you pluck at the strings already in tune.

“Funny enough, I have something to tell you all,” you say resting the guitar to the side. A bit of nervousness crosses your face being around your closest people.

“You're pregnant.” Your sister blurts out making your parents gasp, Bella’s eyes widen, Pedro half spits out his drink and Paul chokes on his.

“No!” You see those all around you sag in relief, “I am very much not pregnant you just saw me drink all night.”

“Oh yeah.” Your sister nods forgetting that key detail.

“Like I was saying,” You give her a look before continuing, “I’ve been holding onto this news for a bit waiting for the right moment and if it was all confirmed. I auditioned for a television series and they hired me as the lead.”

“Oh sweetie that’s great.” Your mother squeezes your hand and your father nods in agreement.

“That’s amazing kid,” Pedro says and Bella nods excitedly.

Paul squeezes your arm a wide grin on his face. “That’s incredible babe.”

“What show is it?” Your sister asks those around you nodding in wonder. You try to suppress a grin as you speak.

“It’s an HBO series…called The Last of Us: Where the Wild Things Are.”

There’s a beat of silence before absolute chaos.

“We’re gonna be working together?!” Bella jumps up and down shaking a shell-shocked Pedro’s arm.

“You’re gonna be a part of The Last of Us. Oh my god, my friends are gonna freak,” Your sister screeches. Your father tries calming her down.

Your mother cries, “Oh my god honey that’s wonderful,”

Paul is just staring at you who has a sly grin across your face. “It worked out getting the guitar. I was gonna buy one to start practicing.” You shrug smugly and he just laughs shaking his head.

Your family’s reaction to the news was well-received; once it was revealed to the public, it was an explosion in media. The other projects worked on leading up to the shooting were filled with questions about this spin-off show from such a hit series. It was stressful once you got to shooting balancing being in Calgary and then flying down to California for The Mandalorian and Grogu but your team made it all possible. While you already knew some of the cast through Pedro and Bella, working on it was a completely different experience. The crew and cast were all so welcoming having these new components added to their production.

“This is weird,” Pedro says when he sees your new hair for the first time. You flash him a look. “I’m not going to be able to recognize you with your new hair.” You laugh alongside your hairstylist as she tweaks some flyaways.

“I hope you can recognize me I’m meant to be your daughter,” Craig and Neil had reached out on your opinion about dying your hair to make Pedro minus the grey aging and you had been completely on board. You weren’t concerned about getting your hair to that dark brown that would match your co-star and were honestly excited about the transformation.

“How has Paul reacted to this change? " he asks as you head to the wardrobe together.

“He likes it, definitely pushed the allegations of me being your long-lost child,” You say with a laugh and Pedro gives a concerned look.

“I don’t think I could’ve handled a child at twenty-five I could barely handle myself.” He has the most concerned look on his face just imagining being a father and you laugh.

You see two men before you one you recognize as the man you let go, Trevor or whatever the fuck his name was. The other next to him you’ve never seen but the two did look like similar brothers maybe. The revolver is aimed at the Travis guy you do know and you see the older man raise his rifle at you while the man with the gun pointed at him makes no move with his own. “I fucking told you I would kill you if I saw you again.” You hiss trying to shift your weight letting a hiss from the burning pain in your side. Thomas looks down at your side and sees your hand pressed against its blood soaking the fabric.

“You’re hurt.” He takes a step forward and your finger rests on the trigger while the other man has a clear shot at you, “Drop the gun girl.” The older man hisses and you barely glance at him as you speak.

“You’re in my fucking house dickwad don’t tell me shit.” You say before you open the chamber showing there are no bullets left, “If you’re here to get your shit back, it’s all gone or used to kill this fuckers.” You wave the empty gun to show the damaged room and the two bodies that are with you.

“Like I said before, get the fuck out of here and let me die in peace. Better yet toss me a bullet and let me finish the job.” You spat leaning your head back against the wall, waiting to hear them leave or maybe give you a way to bite the bullet.

At that moment you shift, acting as if you were bleeding out when your back seizes and you’re unable to hide the true pain.

“Holy fuck my back is seizing,” You yelp, and Pedro and Gabriel break and you can hear the laughter from the crew and camera team. “Y’all this isn’t fucking funny I’m literally dying.” You hear Craig yell cut and Pedro comes over to your hand desperately grabbing a section of your lower back.

“Jesus kid way to make us feel old as hell,” Pedro says before helping you lay down fully on the ground instead of propped up in the corner.

“You guys need to kill me I can’t deal with this,” You’re left at the mercy of Pedro who doesn’t hesitate taking embarrassing photos of you stuck on the ground that ended up as a y/n on the floor meet and greet. The internet found it very hilarious to see a picture of Pedro, Craig, and Neil all posed above you as you give a double middle finger from the floor.

With Paul working on his projects it was a bummer not having him around, especially with the time differences it was either staying late up at night to be able to talk with him briefly before you crashed or the other way around. So when he had breaks between productions he had flown to Calgary to visit you and see you in action on set. When he first saw you on set was during the fight sequence between Derek and the other boys. There were lots of pauses given this fight ends pretty bloody in the end. The SFX team dabs a bit of blood from the cut on your temple and makes sure the blood looks fresh on your knuckles.

“Awww aren’t you so pretty,” Bella coos standing beside Isabela who plays Dina while in the scene but not as active just witnessing the fight break out. Pedro and Paul stand more off to the side since he is needed in the scene. You smile at them with your split lip as they finish up your makeup letting you pop in a capsule as the actor playing Derek finishes up.

“Alright camera and sound roll,” Craig calls out from video village as you shake out your hands hoping to get the blood rushing as your scene partner smirks, “Action!”

Seeing Derek with blood pouring down his nose fire in his eyes as he holds his fists up.

“You fucking bitch!” He hisses and blood coats your teeth as you grin more sliding down your temple and you bring your fists up waving at him to come at you. With a roar, he swings a fist and you dodge landing a shot right at his kidney. A sharp gasp from the sudden pain as his hands go to grab his side not able to block his face as you drive your fist forward. The punch brings him to the ground as you pin him down your fists slamming into his face and beating the crap out of him.

He lands on the crash mat while you land behind camera taking a knee while he’s fully on his back. “Cut!” Craig calls out as the crew gets to switching things around for the new setup as you pull your scene partner to his feet. Sauntering over to Paul and Pedro off to the side as your assistant helps pull your parka at least around your shoulders keeping you warmer than the thinner coat your character wears.

“I don’t know how you like all that stunt works,” Pedro complains from his chair with Paul sitting beside him in your seat, “Makes me want to kill myself.” That draws a chuckle from you and Paul.

“I find it fun. It’s like my personal stress reliever,” You say unaware of the mildly concerned looks from Paul and Pedro.

“That sounds mildly concerning…” Paul says from beneath his scarf. Compared to most on the crew he was bundled up the most from a thick parka, gloves, a heavy-duty scarf, beanie, and probably layered up underneath.

“You all cozied up babe?” You tease and you can see his eyes roll his nose a flush to it from the cold.

“I don’t know how all of you aren’t fucking freezing,” Paul shudders as the wind blows onto the set.

“Well honestly I’m sweating from this scene so I’m protected,” You comment.

“How are you handling the New York cold,” Pedro questions.

You laugh loudly, “He hasn’t experienced it yet, currently, his attire is t-shirts and shorts. I’m surprised you even wanted to come up when it’s so much nicer back home.”

“I wanted to see you, of course, I’d deal with this cold for you,” He says, pressing a kiss gently so as not to touch the blood. You give a big smile and both Paul and Pedro grimace, “I completely forgot your mouth was bloody that was frightening.”

“Would you still like me if I looked like this?” You question.

“I think I’d be concerned why you’re beaten but yes I would still date you,” Paul confirms and you’re called back onto the set.

Whenever Paul was able to visit your spirits and energy on set were doubled. Even the day before he would arrive you’d have a skip in your step the only thing on your lips, “Did you guys know Paul is coming?” “Paul’s flight gets here in about 4 hours.” “I’m so excited to see Paul.”

It was so nice filming and not worrying about the snow as the majority of the show takes place during the winter. You had the absolute joy of meeting and working alongside the two young actresses performing the younger version of your character and Lila your half-sister. The two girls were sisters so it was plenty of fun meeting them during the read-throughs and them coming on set the first time. Your younger counterpart Haley, and your half-sister Deliah were absolute gems and the three of you grew quite attached. Even when you didn’t have shoot days coming in to see Haley, only twelve destroyed her performances and kept her occupied during breaks much to her parent’s delight. With Deliah, it was such an easy bond with this young eight-year-old playing on sets, and having lunches together. Pedro with his father figure magnet quickly pulled the two girls under his wing and his welcoming personality those kids ate it up. There was one picture you treasured during a rehearsal for the playground scene where she sees Joel again after joining her parents. Deliah has taken the rehearsal as an opportunity to play given the context of the scene. Haley had been on set that day for a costume fitting and to see her little sister, so when the crew found you, Haley, Pedro, and Deliah on a couch in a greenroom all passed out the teasing and photos pursued. Your head rested on Pedro’s shoulder with his head on top of yours, Delilah on your lap curled up into your chest, and Haley on Pedro’s side tucked under his arm asleep against him.

Some set days were better than others, especially given the topic and character development she goes through. You thought it was a skill to be able to deeply dive into these characters to create an authentic performance but sometimes it felt like a curse how it had started to take its toll against you.

“Kids go,” Joel says and Jesse and Dina nod, starting to trail away he sees Ellie look at him hesitant before she too leaves. Joel takes a step into the clearing, the crunch of snow makes you whip to face him and he raises his hands like taming a wild beast. Your chest heaves as you eye him with sharp panicked eyes. Tears stream down your flushed cheeks as you continue making that pained noise.

“I’m not gonna do anything kid,” Joel says calmly as one of your hands that grips your hair moves to your flannel clutching your collar as if it’s choking you. Joel rushes as you drop to your knees with an unhuman cry like this tidal wave of emotions finally takes over. He pries your blood hand from your hair to stop harming yourself allowing you to death grip his sleeve as you scream this gut-wrenching sound. Joel squeezes you close to his chest as your screams muffle in his coat soon it turns into a heartbreaking whimper. He has to look up to the sky to blink back the burn in his eyes holding you close to him, his hand stroking your hair to soothe you.

“It’s okay…I got you,” He says as you tremble in his hold, weak sobs and hiccups as you break down.

“Cut!” Craig calls out and Pedro pulls back and is a bit surprised seeing you’re still crying this time with your head in your hands.

“Kiddo….Chiquita,” Pedro calls out to you softly, his hand stroking your back before flashing a concerned look to Craig who quickly understands the situation.

“Let’s take ten!” He yells to the crew who look in concern at you crying with Pedro trying to soothe you but their instruction from their boss offering semi-privacy.

“Y/n you’re okay,” He whispers, “Breathe.” He forces you to notice your erratic breathing pattern borderline a panic attack. A PA rushes over with a foldout chair and some water which Pedro quickly takes. He helps guide you to sit instead of being in the cold snow, your breaths shaky but follow his calming voice. It didn’t take long for Paul who happened to be on set that day to come running over with your assistant hot on his heels. Practically skidding to his knees Paul replaces Pedro who stays by your side rubbing a strong hand up and down your back.

“Baby, what happened?” Concern in his eyes as he holds your face wiping away the tears that slide down your face. “You’re alright, you’re safe with all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup, swiping at your face and smearing some of the fake blood on your face. Your breathing had significantly calmed still a stutter with each inhale, “Oh my god this is fucking embarrassing,” You curl up into the chair and the three people around you immediately disagree with your comment.

“Stop it you just got in your head a bit, you’re alright,” Paul reassures you, cracking open the water bottle for you, helping you take a sip until you take over drinking to hydrate yourself. Paul nods to your assistant and they head over to speak to Craig and the team. “You’re okay baby, take your time.”

“I thought you were crying because my acting was that bad,” Pedro comments and that makes a smile cross your face and a light giggle. His hand squeezes your shoulder, “Take your time kid until you’re ready. You nod grateful for them and the crew. After a minute or so of drinking enough water that you don’t feel dehydrated, you nod letting them know you were good.

Craig comes over, “Are you good to go? We can give you more time.” You are grateful for his concern and you shake your head.

“Thank you but I’m good to go, I’m so sorry for that I just got so far in my head for the scene,” You apologize and Paul shush you while Craig gives you a look.

“Don’t apologize, we wanna make sure you’re good. It’s a complex role I can understand getting that deep in that headspace.” He says before heading to the crew as they prepare.

“Are you sure you’re good,” Paul looks you over, swiping away stray tears at your waterline.

“I’m good I’m sure thank you,” You promise him and he nods, pressing a quick kiss letting you know he was there for you.

“I love you,” He says and you respond in kind. Paul heads off camera though staying near in case you needed him. Both you and Pedro return to the ground and he squeezes your shoulder as a reassurance before you two hop back into the emotional scene.

You and Paul sit at one of the lunch tables watching Haley and Deliah being chased around by Pedro. The two young girls squeal as they weave through tables too fast for him as he takes breaks to catch his breath.

“Jesus Christ they’re fast,” Pedro hunches over his hands on his knees as Bella laughs from their seat. Delilah rushes over to you and Paul.

“Hide me!” She yells and you let the two girls crawl underneath the table hidden behind your knees as Pedro comes over with a playful look.

“Hmmm, I wonder where Haley and Deliah are..” He stalks by your table and you can hear the muffled giggles from underneath.

“I guess I have to take Y/n hostage!” He grabs you and you play into the bit getting up from the table.

“No! Someone help me!” You fight against Pedro as he laughs like an evil villain and you hear a faux gasp from Paul as the girls pop up from under the table.

“Y/n!” They cry out rushing over to save you. Haley jumps onto Pedro’s back and he acts like it wounded him deeply while Deliah pulls you away.

“Oh no you defeated me,” Pedro closes his eyes and Haley rushes over to you.

“We saved you!” The two cheer and you smile dropping to your knees letting the two girls hug you.

“Oh my heroes what would I’ve done without you!” You praise them and the two girls are already thinking up a new game when their mother calls for them to lunch. They groan that the fun is over but listen rushing over to their mother yelling goodbyes to you all. Returning to your table Paul has a very gentle look though his mind is a bit elsewhere.

“All good?” You ask leaning against him and returning to your food and he nods, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, you’re just good with kids.” He says and you smile up at him. You were always good with everyone but seeing you, especially around children or younger fans you have such a light to you. Speaking at their level instead of above them willing to talk about what runs through their active minds. Any other person wouldn’t sit and have an hour-long discussion with an eight-year-old about what crayons would look best for their picture but you would.

“I always liked kids. Even as a kid I also wanted a younger sibling to look at so I always loved spending time with my younger cousins or my friends’ young siblings.” You hum taking a sip of your water, “I’d want them someday, they would be so cute as babies then growing up I would spoil them rotten.”

When you talked about children he pictured you as an amazing mother, teaching your kids to respect others but also themselves, nurturing and loving them with everything in your being. As he pictured these kids running around they shared a mixture of features from both you and himself. Would they have his eyes and your hair, maybe your smile but his humor?

“You’d be a good mom to them.” He says and that makes your insides all warm as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“You’d be a good dad to them too.” He looks at you in a bit of shock, surprised that you imagine that life. With the kids and raising them but with him as their father. A smile grows on his face and you laugh at the flush that crosses his face.

“I think we should have two.” He says with all seriousness and you laugh out loud in shock but he keeps pushing, “Keep it even so one is too lonely and three is an uneven number for everything.” He had thought this all out for your imaginary family together.

“Christ Paul I’d need a ring first before even thinking about a kid.” You chuckle keeping the air light but he just nods at you, his face sincere but certain.

“I can do that.”

[softieekayy]

In the dark of the Night

Hannibal x vampire!reader

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: the reader is characterized with having a mole under her left/right eye and brown/black hair. (She also comes from greek origins and I sincerely hope I don’t offend anyone.) reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🧸

Biologically, vampires were impossible. Their immortality and survival on blood didn’t make any sense, in the scientific and medical sense. At least that’s what Hannibal Lecter believed for the majority of his life. Until he stumbled upon one, in the dark of the night where in an alley there stood a creature of the night, blood thirsty, sucking on the neck of a lifeless man.

Hannibal paused, he didn’t know if it was in shock or intrigue, perhaps it was a mix of both. But at this moment, he didn’t care what it was. He was taken so dearly by this bewitching creature. Oftentimes, he wondered what vampires looked like, in his head, they were ugly beings with protruding teeth and rotten grayish flesh from the lack of sun. Not once in his life did Hannibal ever think that they’d be so beautiful. This woman who stood in front of him was bewitching with hair that cascaded beautifully down her back in perfectly done curls and makeup done with perfection and down to the outfit she wore. She was perfection.

“I wonder if I should let you live or die.” The woman in front of Hannibal smirked, snapping him out of his momentarily trace while discarding the corpse as though he was nothing. To her, he was nothing more than a blood bag. Hannibal noticed her fangs, sharp canines that looked nothing out of the normal.

“I believe my death will bring you peace for your secret.” Hannibal responded breathlessly, stil so taken by the beauty in front of him. He watched as she moved fluidly, quick and fast, he observed how the moonlight beamed on her skin making her look ethereal. In a quick moment, she was in front of him, gripping his chin between her fingers as she observed. Hannibal didn’t know why nor did he care why but his breath hitched, not allowing air flow to get to his lungs. He couldn’t breathe but he didn’t care to, if he could die in this moment, he’d die a happy man. Death at the hands of a death Angel.

“I can hear your heart, are you scared?” The woman whispered in his ear, giving a slight lick on the shell of his ear as she huffed out a small laugh.

She pulled back, watching him curiously.

Something about him drew her to him. She didn’t want to kill him. However, her soul was drawn to his, something that she could tell was as old as she was. Older than life itself.

“Do as you please.” Hannibal whispered, closing his eyes, awaiting his death. Upon feeling nothing, Hannibal was confused, he wondered why she didn’t kill him. He opened his eyes, eyes that were the colour of rum and a slight tinge of maroon, eyes that held warmth hurried deep within. The woman in front of him was observing him, similar to a cat observing its prey, her blood stained mouth pulled into a slight frown.

She took one step forward, sauntering like a cat and in a moment, before Hannibal had known what happened, she stood next to his ear, whispering “Find me when you have time, we need to have a long chat.” Before leaving a small kiss on his jaw, leaving behind a red lipstick print, the only thing he’d have to hold on to for a long while.

Time passed quickly and before Hannibal knew, it had been decades since he’d seen the beautiful beast in that dark alley. He was a young boy then but a grown man now and somewhere deep in his soul, he missed her. He didn’t understand why and he won’t for a while, fate has decided to play a cruel game on him. He still remembers the inquisitive look that she held in her eyes and the way the moonlight made her look like an angel from the highest of heavens.

Even as he stood now, in the dark street, his face being lit by the moon, he thought of her.

His eyes were closed and his head tilted up, as if he was long awaiting death. She thought he looked like a fallen angel, craving for the touch of heaven again. Unbeknownst to him, the immortal beauty had been keeping up on him. She watched him grow from a 20 year old boy in medical school to the man he was now. A beautiful man with the appetite for something so dark.

“Hmm, you look as delectable as the night I met you.” She hummed, voicing her thoughts. Hannibal snapped his eyes open, looking towards her direction, bewilderment coating his face. Calling her a young woman would be quite the irony for she was as old as time itself.

She sauntered forward like a fox, her black lace skirt flowing down her legs seamlessly, lips stretching into a foxy smile with fangs protruding onto wine red lips. Even at night she dressed like a beauty and Hannibal could not stop staring at her, his soul wanted her, no, it craved her.

“You’ve developed quite the palette, love. A very interesting one at that.” She told him, leaning against the wall, a respectable distance still between them.

“You told me that we’d talk when I find you, it seems that you’ve found me instead.” Hannibal mused, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“It seems that I did.” She smiled up at Hannibal and he smiled in return. He may not know her in this lifetime, but their souls are well versed, knowing every inch of one another. The two walked forward to each other, two hunters coming together for the hunt of a lifetime.

“I believe we can have that talk now.” She told Hannibal, her lips almost brushing his own as their noses touched. Hannibal hummed in slight agreement.

“I believe that we can do the talking later.” He told her before kissing her, his lips twisting with hers in a passion that cannot be recreated. His hand gripping the back of her neck as her hands gripped Hannibal’s shirt, in an almost desperate manner.

She pulled back, giving Hannibal the chance to catch his breath, she didn’t need to breathe.

“Oh my dearest heart, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” The young woman told him, laughing a little when Hannibal pulled her close to his chest, resting his cheek on her head laughing a bit as well.

“So tell me now, why is it that you never killed me back then.” Hannibal asked her, leading her into his home and looking back at her. Despite the way her beautiful eyes glimmered in the warm light, they held a deep sadness within them.

“I’ve lived a long long life, my love.” She told Hannibal, caressing his cheek as she smiled. Hannibal leaned into her touch, wanting more.

“I’m here to listen to your pain.” He told her, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Her body wasn’t warm, it hasn’t been for over a thousand years. It was cold, like a dead one.

“I was born in 487, in Ancient Greece, during the Hellenistic period, I was a priestess of the great goddess Artemis, a goddess of the hunt. A young woman who was to spend the rest of her days living in the temple of the goddess. Of course, back then I hadn’t known what life would hold for me. I was young and naive, wanting to help anyone who came to the Goddess’ temple.” She told Hannibal, her eyes closed and head tilted back as she reminisced the days of her early youth. Even though it had been over 2,400 years ago, she remembered it clearly.

Hannibal observed her closely, her hair that was once up nearly now lay in curls down her back as one hand held a glass of red wine he had kindly poured for them. Her nails were long and sharp, like claws but nothing out of fashion. She truly looked like a temptress, and maybe, just maybe, many stories of vampires being beautiful stemmed from her.

“There was this one night, it was cold and rainy all day, an indication that a storm was about to come. Many thought that the great god Zeus was upset hence why everyone stayed home that day. Women that came to pray for their daughters didn’t come, pregnant ladies hoping for a safe birth didn’t come and men who prayed for a good hunt did not come.” The old vampire told Hannibal and to him, it seemed like a myth. Her life, her humanity was so long ago that it seemed impossible to Hannibal yet it was. She was living proof of it.

“Yet there was this man who came, seeking shelter in the temple.” Hannibal listened to his companion continue her story.

“A young man in his 30’s I assumed. But he was beautiful, more beautiful than any creature I had ever seen. His hair was long and blonde and he was dressed in the richest of robes. I, being the young lady I was, allowed him in. I trusted him, fed him and gave him shelter from the rain. And he betrayed me.” She told Hannibal, the glass that she had been now shattered as broken shards embedded themselves into her skin.

Quickly Hannibal took her hand, eyeing for any injuries yet finding none.

“Are you hurt, my dear.” He asked her and she simply pulled her hand away before shaking her head no.

“What happened? What did this man do to you?” The older man asked her, running his hands through his slowly graying hair, worried about what she might say next.

“He betrayed me. That night, after feeding him and giving him a place to sleep, I went to pray to the goddess, to pray for the safety of my community and the children and for the families to never starve. I was just setting up her altar after praying when he attacked me. A growling creature with teeth as sharp as a sword and glowing red eyes, he turned to me and smiled and said “you’re a stupid little lamb aren’t you. Letting strangers you don’t know into your sanctuary.” Those words were the last I heard before searing pain and finally, darkness.” She sighed deeply, as if she had just breathed out the pain she held in her heart.

Hannibal felt pain for her and the way her life ended. She may be alive but she’s a walking corpse, she doesn’t breathe nor does she sleep. She’s not warm and she’s not alive. There’s no beating heart in her body.

“What about your family?” Hannibal asked her, making her smile slightly and look up at him, she stood up and walked over to him, running her hand through his hair and Hannibal leaned into her touch like a cat.

“I believe they simply thought I died in the storm, and I believed that it was best for them to believe that. My sister went on to have kids and so did my brother. However, my mother and father never really moved on from losing me.” The old vampire told Hannibal, and he nodded, understanding her reasoning for not going back.

“Come my love, you have work tomorrow and I have things to do.” The brunette told him, leading Hannibal up the stairs to his room and he followed behind her as if in a trance. Once reaching his room, he took out his nightwear and sat it on the dresser as the young woman watched.

“Are you going to leave again?” He asked her, not recognizing the voice that came out of him. He sounded like a small boy asking for someone to stay. He sounded pathetic to himself.

“Only to get my stuff. Unless you’d like me to leave.” The young woman winked towards the end of the sentence and laughed. Hannibal laughed when he came up to her and leaning down to her level, he placed a kiss on her lips and she returned it with just as much passion.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She told him after pulling back from the kiss, and kissed his cheek.

Their one morning turned into another and another and sooner than later, they moved in momentum. One could not function without the other, a flowing river.

Hanniabl proposing to her wasn’t very secretive, he did it in their kitchen, while she marked work of her students, the pair had decided to settle in Baltimore, Maryland where Hannibal worked as a psychiatrist and his wife as a teacher. She always had a thing for children and teaching. Unfortunately due to her being physically dead, she could not have any children of her own.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?” Hannibal asked her one day, not bothering to look up from the veggies he was cutting. His lover smiled at him, putting her hand under her chin in faux thought, fangs poking her cherry lips.

“I have never really thought of it. I’ve had lovers, yes, I’ve been a mistress and everything in between yet I have never thought of marriage. Why do you ask?” The smile never left her face as her attention was fully directed towards Hannibal. She sat up straight, dark hair cascading down her back in Hollywood curls as she crossed her legs one over the other before pulling up the sleeves of her sweater.

“If you’ve had lovers, you never thought of marriage?” Hannibal questioned, a small hint of laughter in his voice. He looked up at her, hair disheveled from the long day he’d spent with patients.

“They were lovers, not someone I’d consider spending the rest of my life with.” She told Hannibal in a nonchalant tone. Her eyes held warmth when she looked at Hannibal, he noticed the way her body lost its rigid posture around him and the way she let herself become more loose.

“Would you marry me?” Hannibal dropped the question, his breath hitching in his throat while he anticipated her answer. Anything other than a yes would kill him, physically and emotionally.

“Without a doubt.” The dark haired woman told him as she hopped down from her place at the kitchen bar and made her way towards Hannibal. He looked over his shoulder at her, smiling at her.

“If you’d said anything other than a no, I think I would’ve died.” Hannibal told her, standing up to his full height, towering over his lover. He pulled her into his embrace as she rested her hands on his chest, looking up at Hannibal with a love drunk look on her face.

“When should we start planning?” She asked him, elated beyond means yet not letting an ounce of it slip through her voice. Hannibal let out a laugh before bending down to kiss her passionately.

“You can do the planning, I can assure you that money will be no issue.” Hannibal informed her as he went back to continuing their dinner.

“Sweetheart, I've more than enough money to last us for generations. I’ve been alive for so long and many of my lovers have transferred their assets to me as well. So yes, I agree, money will be no issue.” She laughed and Hannibal laughed with her.

It was not long after this dinner that the wedding planning began.

(Y/n) had a famous dressmaker that she had turned into her kind to forever make her dresses. A polish woman by the name of Olg, a fiesty woman. No matter how grumpy she may seem, the older woman had always thought of the brunette as her own daughter ever since she lost her own.

“Olga! It’s good to see you!” The young woman greeted the older lady with a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek. The older one returned the hug before pushing her back to take her in.

“Still the mournful colours you wear. Reds and blacks and grays. I see that nothing has changed.” Olga told (Y/n) with a distasteful tone. The younger one never listened to Olga when she told her to wear more colourful clothes. The only colours she had in her pallet were blue and red.

(Y/n) laughed fondly before hugging the old lady again and dragging her to the car. The ride home was filled with chatter about everything and nothing. Olga pestered the brunette about Hannibal and to know more about him. She was excited, her daughter, not by blood, finally found love within her life. Someone whose eyes light up when she enters the room and the one person who looks at her as if she hung the stars specifically for him.

“Have you thought about wedding dress fabrics?” (Y/n) hummed in thoughts the question. When she was born, it was a plain white fabric wrapped around you. Although she was very fond of the dresses that were worn in the 1800’s. The puffy dress with off the shoulder sleeves, ugh, (y/n) loved them so much. She liked to think that they were the height of fashion, Olga liked to disagree.

The ride home went by faster than the two ladies expected yet they were not disappointed. Olga was happy to be here to judge the groom in person.

“Do you smell that?” (Y/n) sniffed the air, smiling as she straightened out her dress and fixed her hair before bending down to pet Lucius, a fluffy black cat that wandered the grounds of the Lecter home. Olga indeed did smell that, she smelt meat with a tinge of blood and she was absolutely starving.

While the young brunette cooed at the cat who was now spread out on his back, Olga examined her surroundings. The home was nice and modern, it was a large home with a glass front.

“Do you like it?” (Y/n) asked Olga before guiding her into the home. It was just as beautiful on the inside with a blue coded interior.

“Hm, it’s quite nice. However it compares nothing to the estate that one Lord gave you. Madly in love, he was.” Olga reminisced, pointing her finger at the younger woman who laughed boisterously. The younger woman led Olga into the kitchen where Hannibal was just finishing up the dinner.

“Oh hello, my love.” Hannibal perked up at the greeting before turning around to greet his wife to be. (Y/n) kissed him on the jaw and hugged him and he returned the hug.

“Hello Angel.” Hannibal smiled, caressing her cheek before kissing it in greeting. (Y/n) pulled back before walking back to Olga and introducing her.

“Hans, this is Olga, my mother in all but blood.” (Y/n) enthusiastically introduced the older woman who was busy sizing up the tall man. He had charm and was good looking. He could also cook. However, all that mattered was that he loved her daughter and that she loved him.

“It's a great pleasure to finally meet you, (y/n) has spoken greatly of you.” Hannibal smiles at the woman who nods slightly at him in acknowledgement. He gestured for all of them to take a seat and they did, Hannibal sitting at the head of the table with his fiancee on the right and Olga on his left. Dinner was a silent deal, Olga didn’t know how to feel. There were many times in the past where (y/n) had come close to marrying yet never did. She only hoped that this couple would last for eternity and beyond. Olga knew deep down that it will, she could see it in the way they both looked at each other. Hannibal looked at her as if she was the breath of fresh air he’d been looking for his entire life while (Y/n) looked at him as if he was the only thing that she lived for.

Dinner was a silent affair and Hannibal was an excellent cook. After dinner, (y/n) wandered off into her study to mark the remaining work of her students as Olga cornered Hannibal in the kitchen.

“She’s loved men greater than you, many Kings and Lords who were willing to lay their lives down for her beauty.” Olga informed Hannibal who listened intently, trying to ignore the clenching feeling in his heart. He knew that his lover had many before him yet he never felt insecure, not until this moment that is, the words from Olga’s mouth put that into perspective. If great kings and lords were willing to die for her, then who was he to deserve her love?

“Yet she never married any of them.” Hannibal retorted looking up at Olga, maintaining eye contact as some form of dominance.

“No, she almost did though. A man, a lord really. A widowed man, he was. His wife had succumbed to the chills and (Y/n) was new at court, quickly catching the eye of the young lord.

Their love was pure and young, like a freshly bloomed flower. However it did not last unfortunately, the young lord succumbed to a strange illness that (Y/n) would never die from.” Olga told Hannibal who listened closely to a piece of his fiancée’s history. Olga stood leaning against the counter, watching Hannibal, waiting for a reaction.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. However, she has me and I have her, I am not succumbing to any illness soon.” Hannibal smiled at Olga in a sarcastic manner who just smiled back at him, glad that he hadn’t let the jealousy overcome his conscious mind.

“You, my boy, will do just fine.” Olga pat Hannibal on the back and wandered off, leaving the older man to his own thoughts. Hannibal himself wasn’t less than royalty, he was the Count of Castle Lecter in Lithuania, his mother was a descendent of a family that ruled over Milan for 290 years.

He was on par with any king or lord that would die for his wife to be. She was beautiful, perhaps even the most beautiful creature to walk this earth.

Lost in thought while doing the dishes, he didn’t notice his lover walking in. The slight touch of her hand on his back caught Hannibal off guard as he let out a sigh of relief once he saw it was only his lover.

“Are you alright?” She questioned him, a worrisome look on her face as her eyebrows furrowed together, wondering what made him so panicky. Her hand travelled from rubbing his shoulder to caressing his face. Hannibal sighed gently before allowing himself to lean into her touch, cherishing every moment.

“I’m quite alright, dear.” Hannibal told the young brunette in a soft yet tired voice. She muttered a quiet “oh Hannibal,” before encasing him in a hug. Hannibal hugged her tightly, afraid that she was just a dream that his mind had conjured up before burying his face in her neck, allowing himself to breathe in her scent.

(Y/n) pulled back from the hug, bending her neck down to look at Hannibal as a frown overtook her beautiful face. She carded her hands through his hair before they settled on his face.

“How will you tell me what’s wrong?” She asked him gently and Hannibal, just for a brief moment, lost control over himself.

“Olga told me about your past.” Hannibal barely whispered out in a bitter tone. “She told me about the man who you nearly married and the kings and lords who were willing to lay their life down for you.”

“Oh my dear heart, that man was someone I loved years ago. But you, my dear, you are my love now. My star and my moon.” Hannibal relaxed at her words of reassurance, fully pulling away from their embrace.

“Let’s head up to bed now, I’ll start a fresh bath for you. It’ll help you relax.” She smiled at him and patted his cheek before heading upstairs.

Hannibal stole a quick kiss from his girlfriend before going back to doing the dishes. Once he finished, he wiped his wet hands on a towel and removed his apron and hung it on the hook before heading upstairs. Halfway up and he can already smell the scent of jasmine and sandalwood beginning to drift through the air. Hannibal tilts his head up and takes in a deep breath, already feeling a bit relaxed.

“There you are my star.” (Y/n) called out to Hannibal as she got up from the bed. “I’ve been waiting patiently for you, truly had half a mind to go and grab you myself.” She tells him, Hannibal laughs as he makes his way to their bathroom.

Even at the end of the day she looks like an Angel. His beautiful angel, crafted by god just for him. He removes his clothes, putting them in the hamper and then getting into the bath. Sandalwood and Jasmine, the scent that comforted him the most simply because it belonged to his wife. He remembers the first time he saw her, in that alley way, smelling like freshly bloomed jasmine with a hint of sandalwood.

“Take your relaxing bath, I’ll see you in bed.” The young woman told her lover before kissing him on the corner of his lips and strutting into the room. Hannibal relaxed fully now, lowering himself into the extremely hot water. It felt nice to have someone care for him like this. Sometimes he let his mind wander and wonder if this is the type of love Mischa felt when she was being cared for by her elder brother. He missed his sister, his little star in the sky. Now she truly was a part of the sky. Shaking his head, Hannibal closed his eyes and drifted off a short sleep.

Once he woke up, 35 minutes had passed and his body had already pruned. Quickly getting out, he moisturized and put his night suit on. His wife, although they weren’t married legally, was on the bed, reading a book that was centuries old. She was there when it was written, hence her copy is an original.

“I thought you weren’t coming out of that bath today.” She joked, smiling up at him.

“It seems like you made it too relaxing.” Hannibal joked back, poking her side making her laugh. Sweet laughter that sounded like wind chimes. She set her book aside, arranging the pillows so that she laid down properly on them.

“Ready to sleep?” Hannibal asked her, moulding himself around the shape of her body.

“With you? Always.” She tells her husband, moving closer to rest her head on his beating heart, allowing it to lull her to sleep. Hannibal moved his cheek atop her head, breathing in that familiar scent of metallic blood and jasmine, allowing the scents to send him to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was usual, Hannibal woke up first, made breakfast, woke up his wife and Olga, ate breakfast and then got dressed and headed off to work, he was now consulting with the FBI.

(Y/n)’s routine was the same as well. She ate, came up, got dressed for her teaching job, grabbed her papers and headed off to school.

Olga, well, she didn’t exactly have a job however, she had decided to get a head start on the wedding fabric. She knew that (Y/n) wanted something that was classic and elegant yet also wanted lace. She headed to multiple fabric stores and picked up multiple fabrics, allowing her surrogate daughter to pick one she liked the most. She wouldn’t admit it but Olga was excited, her daughter had happiness once, yet it was snatched straight out of her hands and now, she has a second chance at it with a great man.

The day came and went, by the time she reached home, it was 3pm and two hours later, (Y/n) returned home.

“Olga! What is all of this?” She asked surprised, shutting the door and taking off her gloves and coat, (y/n) put them on the couch and sat beside Olga.

“I brought fabric. The sooner you choose the type, the sooner I can begin the design.” Olga told her. The younger girl looked at Olga for a moment before hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek.

“You shouldn’t have!” She told her once, pulling away from the hug.

“Nonsense child. Now choose your favorite fabric.” And with those words, (y/n) began to finger the fabric and examined them closely. Some were beautiful crème coloured fabrics with a pearl sheen and others were decorated with gold threads and white coloured flowers embroidered. It was simply beautiful. However, the one that truly caught the young woman’s attention was a beautiful ivory coloured fabric with beautiful lace detailing and the fabric was woven with silver, causing it to have a beautiful shine in the sun and light.

“That one is it.” Hannibal called out from the door making his wife jump. She glared at him for a moment before running her hands through her hair. He laughed and shed his coat jacket, sitting next to his wife.

“It's beautiful, isn’t it.” She told him and Hannibal nodded. The fabric truly was one of a kind, however, his wife was more beautiful than any fabric or creature.

“I agree but I think that you’ll make it shine even more.” He tells her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and kissing her. (Y/n) raised his hand to his cheek, deepening the kiss a bit more.

“So that’s the fabric I assume.” Olga guessed.

“Well then, I’ll get started on the dress.” Olga kissed (y/n) on the cheek and headed to the sun room that was converted into her studio.

4 months passed by and their routine continued. Hannibal and (Y/n) headed off work while Olga worked on the dress, keeping it a secret from the bride. A month later, the dress was ready.

“The flower arrangements are beautiful, aren’t they.” The brunette gushed over the flowers, clutching onto Hannibal’s arm as he agreed. They truly were beautiful. Baby’s breath paired with lilac coloured flowers.

“Have you sent the invitations?” Hannibal asked the wedding planner who nodded. Hannibal nodded in acknowledgement and placed his hand over his wife’s.

“Everything will be perfect, my love.” Hannibal tells her normally, kissing her forehead before muttering a soft ���And anyone who messes it up will be our dinner.” (Y/n) smiled at that. They weren’t innocent, Hannibal supplied her blood and the rest ate with her.

Their wedding date was in a week and good lord did that week come fast. At work Hannibal had made good friends with Will Graham and that man was his best man. Hannibal had friends, many friends, yet Will Graham was surprisingly his closest.

“Are you ready?” Will asked Hannibal who looked at him through the mirror.

“To marry her? Any day.” Hannibal replied in confidence, making Will laugh.

“I just went to see her, she looks like a vision come true. Now I see why you call her angel.” Will laughed, running his hands through his unruly curls. Will hadn’t only become friends with Hannibal, he also became friends with his wife. Will reminded (y/n) of her brother, one that she never got to see grow.

“Are you ready?” Maya asked (y/n), straightening her veil before grabbing ahold of her hands.

“Maya, I’ve been waiting over 9 centuries for this, I am ready as I'll ever be.” (Y/n) tells her long time friend, squeezing her hands in confirmation.

“Alright then, let’s get you married.” Maya said, linking their arms together.

Will was right, his wife to be was a beautiful vision. Olga did so wonderfully designing the dress, it was reminiscent of fashion during the Tudor period, with a beautiful ivory bodice decorated with the most beautiful blue and gold birds and flowers, the skirt was simple and trimmed with lace as well as the arms. It was a heavy skirt with multiple layers of fabric. A true Tudor wedding dress. Her hair was done up and a few loose curls framed her face, the makeup suited her well, dark eyes with a dark lip and the finishing touch was a dark blue lace choker, with a pendant depicting the goddess that she once served.

“You are stunning.” Hannibal sighed out in disbelief, still looking at his wife and took her hands in his bigger ones.

The priest officiated the wedding and they said their vows, sealing the ceremony with a kiss.

Maya cried at the Vows while Will teared up a little, praying to whatever god there was to find a love like theirs.

“I’ve waited a thousand years for you, Hannibal. I’ll wait another thousand if it means to have you in my arms.” She tells him, placing her hand on his cheek as he leans into it.

“I’d wait a thousand years to feel your touch and your love again, my beautiful, beautiful wife.” Hannibal tells her, tilting her chin up before kissing her again. They are finally married now, after centuries (Y/n) found someone to love for centuries to come and Hannibal found someone to love.

Tagging my beauties: @chchchcheni @shawty-writes-a-little @jake-g-lockley @dimitrisebastian

[honeygrahambitch]

"And then I told Jack that that is all I can tell him. I can't make up facts about a serial killer just because he is not satisfied with the profile." Will explained as he watched Hannibal chopping a clove of garlic.

Silence.

Not receiving an answer was weird. Hannibal always had to make a comment. Especially when it was a complaint about Jack. Especially when Will rarely ever complains anyway.

But his mind seemed to be completely somewhere else.

"Then, Barack Obama visited our office. I told him he is invited to dinner tonight, I hope you are alright with that." Will said trying to test whether Hannibal was present or not. "Hannibal? What do you think?"

"Hm?" Hannibal finally reacted. "Sounds wonderful."

"Yeah." Will said and rolled his eyes. "Where are you?"

"I'm sorry, darling. What were you saying? You invited Jack over?"

"Yeah." Will replied, sarcasm obvious in his tone. "What's going on with you?"

"Long day. That is why I am really happy about having you here tonight." He said as he walked away from the kitchen isle and kissed the top of Will's head.

"Red or white?" He went on and walked towards the wine rack.

"This is a trap and I am not falling for it again." Will replied. "You are making steak, it's gonna be red. Try harder next time."

"Excellent." Hannibal approved and grabbed a bottle, which he placed in front of Will.

"Yeah, that's white, doctor." Will said. "Are you having a concussion or something?"

Hannibal looked at the bottle again. He had indeed grabbed the wrong one while meaning to reach for the Cabernet.

"Long day. Difficult patients." Hannibal said and fixed his previous mistake then headed towards the fridge to grab the wagyu steaks.

"Wine will fix it." Will declared. "Maybe let me take care of those. I'm not sure you can be trusted with the oven tonight."

"I love you but hands off. While I can admit that your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are superior, I believe my wagyu beef skills are a little bit better than yours."

"Fine. But do tell me about your day. I don't care about your patients, you don't let these things get to you. Tell me strictly about what messed you up."

Hannibal looked at Will and gave in.

"My mind played a trick on me and I've been thinking about it the whole day. It's a really silly occurrence."

"A silly occurrence is when Winston steals my underwear. Or when you steal my underwear. Whatever happened to you can't be silly."

Hannibal smiled.

"I was walking home from where I parked my car. And I passed by the playground from the corner of the street." He started as he placed the steak in the heated pen. He sighed and averted his gaze from Will. "This little girl looked identical to Mischa. Just for one second, I..."

"You believed it was her."

"And then I brushed it off. If you allow yourself to fall for these kinds of delusions you do nothing but harm yourself more. Even if it is just for a second." Hannibal said. "Hope is poisonous just as much as it is healing."

"In the end there is something beautiful in that." Will replied thoughtfully. "Even after a long time you are still able to catch glimpses of people who are no longer here. Be it only a second."

"I agree."

"You should have said something earlier. I do appreciate that you didn't even try to mask it in front of me."

"I am not afraid of looking vulnerable in front of you, darling." Hannibal said lovingly.

"Well done."

"Thank you?"

"No. The steak. At this point it's well-done. You killed the cow for a second time."

The comment made Hannibal anchor himself back to the kitchen and to the poor steak.

[lockedcemetary]

The Birth of Venus

a/n: this is probably bad, wrote it at 1 am and have never written before and doubt anyone will even see this. written with male/ gender neutral reader in mind but i don’t think i mentioned sex or gender at all, if anyone does see this and likes it or has feedback, tell me!

also not proofread lol

_______________________________________________

hannibal who asks you to be his muse for a nude portrait. He presents this request as politely and professionally as possible, to hide his true intentions. Hannibal who knows damn well he wouldn’t need a reference to properly etch your figure onto parchment, he’s already done it dozens of times.

You, being none the wiser, agree. Albeit a bit hesitantly, but you agree nonetheless. fast forward to the arranged date and time, he has unclothe yourself in his bathroom that’s attached to the master bedroom, for your comfort, he explains. he waits patiently with his sketchbook in hand, legs crossed away from your view. you pay no attention to his body language, but anyone who was even slightly educated on seeing the signs would be able to deduce that he was enjoying the situation in another light.

you exit the bathroom, a towel draped over yourself. you stand a bit over a yard away from him, unsure of what to do with yourself. he assures you that there is no need to be nervous, it’s just you and him, no danger or judgement. this eases you slightly, though he can tell you’re still tense.

he instructs you to place the towel on the desk behind you, and you follow. you turn back to him to see him already looking at you, is that desire in his eyes? Of course not, why would that be the case? he lets his eyes rake across you, taking in small details that he mentally stores away. he realizes he’s staring, and staring is rude, so he pulls his eyes back to his paper. this is when he begins his rough sketch, he will go in and clean everything up later. when he is happy with his sketch, finishing the outline with only a few stolen glances of the beauty in front of him, he looks back up. you’re looking at him, watching his hands in particular. from this angle you can make out the rough shape of yourself, it makes you blush a bit as you realize just the situation you remain in. he sees the pink dusting your cheeks and neck, but doesn’t comment on it. he simply stares.

he drags his line of sight onto the page once more, adding finer details as the minutes pass. he can feel it against his thigh now, but he dare not speak of it or even acknowledge it. this has never been a problem when it was just him, though he knew it would arise when you were standing in front of him as his hand graced the page. he flicks his eyes up for only a second, to regain his senses. the image was starting to take shape now. you could see it, and you recognized it? it was you, in the place of Venus in the renaissance painting The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli.

you couldn’t make out the faces of the other three people in the image, but that wasn’t important. what was important was that Hannibal had led you here, just to simply take in your grace. you hadn’t known it, but this wasn’t simply a ploy to get you undressed in front of him, even if that was part of it. as elegant and chaste as hannibal likes to pretend he is. but he chose to memorialize you in the place of venus, the goddess of love, beauty, and sex. (atleast those are the motifs that apply here)

when he presented the image to you, your eyes widened on instinct. and you took a step forward to take the sketchbook from his hands and get a better look of it yourself, a better look of you, i suppose. Hannibal took note of the decreased proximity, and let his eyes wander. oh if only you knew how often you flitted about his mind. it’d end him, like you inevitably would.

________________________________

i was listening to the song Black Beauty by Lana Del Rey while writing this btw, good song.

[morningstarbee]

Thinking about episode 1 again. So like.

Obviously after the scene where Will and Hannibal meet, Hannibal is all "I think I can help Will see this cannibal's face." or whatever and it smash cuts to Cassie Boyle field kabuki

But like, I'm thinking about the timeline here.

So Hannibal goes to Minnesota, finds a girl who fits the profile of the Shrike's victims, takes her lungs, kills her, displays her and then goes back to Baltimore. Because when we see him cooking her lungs, it looks like his own kitchen?

And he doesn't show up to Minnesota "officially" until the second day, when he wakes Will up for the breakfast scene in the motel.

Assumedly, Jack calls him to Minnesota to help Will with the profile after Will makes that snarky comment about "Why don't you have Dr. Lecter draw you up a profile. You seem really impressed with his opinion."

So like

They meet

Hannibal goes to Minnesota and kills Cassie Boyle

Hannibal goes home.

The team gets called to Minnesota to investigate Cassie Boyle scene. Will tells Jack to ask Hannibal. Jack calls Hannibal.

Hannibal agrees. The next day he cooks the lungs and then goes back to Minnesota to wake Will up and flirt with him at like 8 in the morning.

I just need to know how this man got the lungs pass airport security. And if he didn't if he drove to Minnesota to kill Cassie Boyle...If you've seen my previous post, you know that's at LEAST an 18 hour drive, more with traffic and breaks. And then he had to drive back. Which is again, at LEAST 18 hours.

I like to believe that Hannibal had JUST gotten home from the drive when Jack called him back and he had to book a plane ticket to Minisoda

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

Hannibal Dash Simulator Season 2

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin reblogged

🐈‍⬛team-sassy-science

Me and @ autopsyguy going to get some drinks after work.

@ teamsassyscience Why wasn't I invited? And who took that picture?

13 notes

#friends #who i will forgive for not inviting me drinking this one time

🌸flowers-in-bloom reblogged

I know this is a stretch, but has anyone seen my dog? He keeps running away and I haven't gotten the chance to microchip him because of this. If you see him, he answers to Winston, and my address is on his collar (he's the one on the upper left, this is the only picture I have).

🌸flowers-in-bloom

Never mind. I found him. Thank you to everyone who tried to help. He is now microchipped.

🌸flowers-in-bloom

Winston ran away again. The microchip is not 100% accurate, so please, if you see him, let me know. I'm afraid he might get hit by a car or attacked by a wild animal.

821 notes

#dogs #dog #missing dog

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin

Okay, something happened at work, and I am currently OBSESSED. Just have to share this with you guys. This article is the best. I set up the link, so just click the picture.

174 notes

#bees #apiary #honey production

🔥Sponsored

_________Verger Meat Packaging

Fresh, high-quality meat. Perfect for any occasion. Pork, beef, and chicken from a variety of breeds, available for all budgets. Professionally raised on one of the oldest farms in the state.

------------------------------Learn More

0 notes

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

Petition to save local songbird habit from complete destruction

Local Baltimore City Council Sheldon Isley brokered a deal several years ago to turn the habit of endangered songbirds into a parking lot. Recently, there have been discussions going on further developing what little remains of these birds' home. More information and links below the cut.

_______________________Keep Reading

7,843 notes

#birds #petition #songbirds #wildlife #baltimore

🐎animal-lover12233

4 notes

🦅lonesome-hawk reblogged lonesome-hawk

Just LOOK at him.

🦅lonesome-hawk

Yes, I know he's on trial for murder. But if you had been following the trial like I have, you would know he's being framed. Now shut up and leave me alone. I'm disabling comments.

843 notes

🌸flowers-in-bloom

😶‍🌫️Anonymous asked:

Aren't those @ dogsandflyfishing's dogs?

Yes, they are. I am taking care of them for him while he is unable to.

2 notes

#ask answered

📸tattlecrime-official

Coming soon!

The REAL story of Will Graham and how his peculiar mind works, and how he was tragically framed to be the infamous Chesapeake Ripper.

Click on the links below to subscribe to TattleCrime.com for official updates and exclusive snippets.

-------------------------------Keep Reading

365 notes

#tattlecrime #official story #will graham

🐻prehistoric-predator

I'm partial to the Cave Bear myself, but a Dire Wolf is also a good choice. Before you vote, I've got some studies and info in the link below and some general information so you can make informed decision.

I'm curious to see what you guys think; I'm having to make a really tough decision right now.

Reblog for larger sample size

_______________________Keep Reading

69 notes

#cave bear #dire wolf #poll #polls #my poll

🐕dogsandflyfishing reblogged

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

Lomo Saltado

Recipe below cut.

_______________________Keep Reading

37 notes

#recipe #cooking #lomo saltado

🐕dogsandflyingfishing

Everyone who is asking about Buster in the last picture I put up, he is okay. He got on the wrong side of a wild animal, which happens from to time when you live in a rural area. He needed stitches, but he will be fine. Stop accusing me of mistreating my dogs.

12 notes

#ask answered

😷autopsyguy

I've been going through a hard time lately. A friend of mine recently passed, @ teamsassyscience, and I've been thinking about her a lot. Two other friends of mine, @ dogsandflyfishing and @ flowers-in-bloom, along with my boss, are currently in the hospital and things don't look good. I'm really worried

Not what any of you wanted to hear, but I just needed to vent and didn't know where else to do it.

Here's to Beverly, and hoping that Will, Alana, and Jack pull through.

73 notes

📸tattlecrime-official

EXCLUSIVE!

A Red Dinner

Today, the entire city of Baltimore was rocked by the shocking revelation that renowned psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, is indeed the true Chesapeake Ripper. According to sources, Lecter very nearly took the lives of three people, and killed a third. Will Graham, once accused himself of being the Ripper. Dr. Alana Bloom, his lover. And Special Agent Jack Crawford of the FBI, a man Lecter has worked with closely in recent months. The one victim who was DOA is reportedly none other than Abigail Hobbs, who has been assumed murdered for months now, previously by none other than Will Graham. And what's more, it turns out he isn't just a serial killer, he is a cannibal as well.

Click Here for the rest of the story on TattleCrime.com

7,651 notes

#tattlecrime #official #hannibal the cannibal

[nhescio]

Okay I have a visceral need for a hannigram time travel fic but instead of the typical Will or Hannibal fix-it, the person that time travels back is none other than Frederick fucking Chilton. Like imagine Chilton wallowing around all crispy and stuff after being human torched wondering what he’s done to deserve everything he’s been through. And when he’s finally okay enough to be discharged from the hospital to go home, an anvil falls on him or smth. And as he’s lying there incredulously, he’s like, yknow what? Im not even upset about this. I think Ive suffered enough near death experiences. Please just let this one put me out of my misery. And as his eyes finally drift shut, he hears an alarm blaring in his face. An alarm from his phone. His phone which, when he goes to shut it off, displays an impossible sequence of numbers— the plastic screen shinning with a date from four years past.

So after freaking out and confirming that he is indeed in the past, (and weeping in joy over his unmutilated body) Frederick does the obvious— he packs his bags, pays a visit to the bank, and gets on the next available flight out of the country.

And then his plane crashes and he dies.

But of course he doesn’t die because that seems to be a common theme in Frederick Chilton’s life!

So he’s jolting out of bed again to that same alarm and he tries not to tear his own face off (not that he would ever actually do that cause he knows how easily he could lose that precious face). And (after a few more tries) since this time loop bs isn’t letting him run away, he does the next best thing— phoning the FBI with a tip so that they would investigate Hannibal Lecter and put him behind bars for good. But of course Hannibal somehow finds out and discretely shakes the FBI off his trail while simultaneously sending one of his murderer protégés after Frederick. And so not even a month passes by before Frederick finds himself dying and waking to that infuriating alarm again.

And he keeps going through different loops trying to avoid being “murder tableau of the week”, but failing miserably every time. After dying for what feels like an infinite number of times, he’s realized two main consistencies. Number one, he can’t personally expose Hannibal Lecter as the ripper if he doesn’t want to be gutted, and two, the sooner Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter begin their weird courtship, whether from Frederick’s deliberate meddling or from ripples of unrelated actions, somehow he’s left with much less blood and chaos in the aftermath. In one incredible timeline, Frederick even managed to only sustain one life threatening disembowelment for three years before accidentally making a rude comment about Will Graham’s lack of a social life, thereby leading to a cold death in the Atlantic.

After this revelation, he vows to get Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter to bang each other as soon as possible for the sake of his own self preservation— going through elaborate plans like befriending and recruiting the FBI’s forensics team, or snapping Jack Crawford out of his obliviousness so he’d bluntly give them a nudge, or even once flirting with Will Graham himself to get Hannibal Lecter jealous (note: that attempt did NOT end up well).

And one day, after a shocked text from his “Sassy Science Matchmaking Squad” group chat proclaiming that Hannibal and Will, lovingly dubbed Hannigram by the group, had spontaneously quit their jobs and run away to Europe together, Frederick suddenly realizes he hasn’t been stabbed or burned or maimed or drowned or disemboweled once! He thinks back to his early success in this timeline— silently high fiving with Beverly and Jimmy (Zeller, the spoilsport, had refused to partake) while voyeuristically watching Will and Hannibal shyly having their first kiss in the shadows of a filthy crime scene. In fact, he didn’t think anyone in their immediate circle had been stabbed or burned or maimed or drowned or— well you get the point.

And as one year turns to two to four to eight with no word from Hannibal or Will except the occasional postcard, a sort of cautious optimism starts building in Frederick’s heart. The years continue to fly by until one day, Frederick finds that his hair has turned a snowy white, and that his legs are too weak to support his aching body. He tries to take in a breath to laugh but it comes out as a wheeze. He’s at the end of the line once more, but this time at the end of a healthy, fulfilling life. His only wish is that he’s finally allowed to move on. And as he feels his life slowly drifting away from him, Frederick wonders if he’s accomplished whatever divine mission that godforsaken time loop had wanted him to complete. It really feels like he did the best he could this life, preventing every possible death on the East Coast by sending Hannibal and Will packing early. Sure, he feels bad for the poor suckers in Florence or Paris that were probably flambéed for a pretentiously fancy brunch, but realistically, those two would always leave a body count no matter where they went.

All Frederick wants now is to pass in peace. With a heavy sigh, Frederick willingly closes his eyes one last time, content to move on into whatever lies in the beyond.

And he dies. For real this time. Woohoo!

The End

[mostdefinitelyafeverdream]

pairing: hannibal lecter x gn!reader

warnings: ///

author's note: not much to say other than i wrote this on a whim, lots of unresolved tension & hannibal being hannibal which is self-explanatory enough i believe. first person pov because i think the use of y/n disrupts the narrative. comments & reviews much appreciated!!

banishing the heartbreak

tell me what the cards say

give me all the tingles

moi je veux le monde

bottom line - he's looking, and he keeps looking. a shiver - painfully vulnerable reaction, extreme and warranted by such imposing presence - runs down my arms and i struggle to hold the piercing gaze; it suddenly turns into a struggle, a subtle battle for dominance. that's what he made of it and never am i allowing him the upper hand (though matching his intensity is nothing short of exhausting).

his eyes hold such starved hunger, a primal instict much alike to the hunting predator giving restless chase and for a second i scoff at its theatricality. his stance screams of a man who's always had his way and i catch a glimpse of the underlying arrogance of a much anticipated victory, which against all reason, tugs at my own grisly pride.

"can i help you?"

he smiles but doesn't show his teeth - not yet at least. his approaching steps mark a distinct rhythm that confuses itself with the pounding of my frantic heartbeats, but stubbornly holding onto my slowly crumbling resolve, i keep shuffling the cards in my hands.

he didn't expect me to address him first - in nature, prey never provokes a predator.

he sits and never breaks the stare, amused like the cat that toys with mice without even paying much mind to their squeaks.

"may i request a fortune reading?"

a pause. i look to him again and he doesn't strike me as a believer - of any kind, in any being but himself. he looks like someone whom people devote their beliefs to, instead.

"i don't read for those who don't really want a reading"

he smiles again but nothing in the poised way he sits betrays his growing interest; nothing but a glint in his eye, the sadistic inclination of the enthused scientist about to prod and probe until he gets the desired results.

"so you presume to know what i want"

it's not phrased as a question, and this is but a first test, i vexedly realise. i try not to let his soothing baritone sway my resolve to teach this arrogant, arrogant man a lesson but how can i hope to oppose him if my resistance might be nothing more than an entertaining bit on his carefully directed stage? - merely few minutes have passed and that's the power imbalance he set already.

"i'm not as presumptuous as to assume something like that. but i am presumptuous enough as to assume what you do not want."

it's my turn to smile but i'd be a fool to believe it might elicit the same reaction as his domineering presence. it's tight lipped and more hostile than i'd hoped but i'd always been easy to read: my eyes, much like his own, betray my nature.

"hannibal lecter," he doesn't extend his hand, it's not an introduction but a statement: "excuse my rudeness."

he has a gentlemanly charm, surely carefully crafted to attract all kinds of attentions - trust would be the correct term, as i'm sure he thrives off the easy accessibility of prey, whatever his ambitions may be, but i do not trust this man one bit. i give him my name nonetheless which is my second grave mistake today; the first one: subconsciously letting him make space for himself at my table, where he comfortably sits scrutinizing my every move.

"nothing to be excused. what i meant to say is, i don't read for those who think of the practice as a joke."

he merely listens and does not refute my words of thinly veiled accusation. what an overbearing man.

"are you a man of science? a doctor, maybe." i stir the pot, i know i am and this game is most definitely dangerous but nothing short of exciting. it's too late to back down anyways.

"an accurate observation. knowledge incited by your... practice, perhaps"

"what a pity, i clearly see a future as a comedian"

it shouldn't arouse such unbridled delight and violent trepidation, the way he looks more and more kin to dig his talons in, to tear and cut his way to what he knows will be the inevitable dead end. and yet the poised firm stance still stands, unwavering - he's enjoying this and in some twisted, unforseen turn of events, i'm giving in and being led by his hand.

"comedy and tragedy alike bear the omen of fate. to evoke a laugh is but to twist the odds in in your favor and rewrite a satisfying ending. do you belive in destiny?"

i'm still shuffling the cards, he's still drinking in my every movement, savoring my resentment and aversion like a long-awaited meal. he subtly leans in and i match his pace, if only to prove his intimidation does not sway me, if only to prove i will dance to his jarring waltzer just to prove a point.

a single card falls from the deck.

the fact so unexpected we both quickly divert our gazes to look down upon it. the man whose ominous presence is enough to trigger every defense mechanism i possess smiles one more time - he bares his teeth. he takes a card of his own from his pocket, a business card, and puts it right next to the fallen arcana, then leaves the table - and me - without a word.

when i look back down again, the devil stares right back.

dividers by @/enchantings

[silviakundera]

Snowfall watch comments ep 9-10

Ep 9

Screenwriter knows what the people want, now we're making Vamp Daddy her teacher so we can get hot for mentor vibes too (rubs hands together) yeeeesssssssssssss

Every time nepo baby girl appears, it makes me temporarily root for Loser Li to escape loserdom. god lady..; it is just possible that he could be talking to a female for work or crime reasons JUST MAYBE. (not that it's her damn business if he was on a date. but still. ugh.)

The way he still feels beholden to defend her honor smh. Escape the Jin family clutches, bro. They don't own you.

The Mu family are all dying at 30 and somehow Vamp Daddy is gonna help them pass on their legacy, but tbh I don't follow how.

So Vamp Daddy breaks into Mu Lihua's place to night prowl around, touches her magic artifact thingabob, and it burns him or something idk

Vamp Daddy: "She could hurt me even though she didn't appear before me. If what Mr Mo said was true, I'm sure she didn't come in peace."

...I mean, I also do not think she came in peace, but you did in fact break in and touch her shit without permission. That is an actual thing that just happened.

Fake public breakup trope ✔

lmao the Mu family stole the Profound Yang stone?

WTF does Doctor Bestie actually want with nepo baby ? I feel like there has to be a reason he keeps coming back there.

LOL normally I can't stand her but I gotta admit it was amusing when she tried to explain the idea of caring about people to our mildly evil doctor and he's just like ⁉🤔⁉ 1 ➕ 5 ➖ 2 ➗ 4 = 🎂

Loser Li vs Mi Lan: on one hand, he's no longer underestimating her and doesn't even have a sister complex about her anymore. On the other hand, totally unhinged dude who is fueled by insecurity, self-hatred, and resentment. Which he is making everyone else's problem.

Becoming a vampire and eating that obnoxious nepo baby and her Jin family could fix him.

Or make him worse. ?

Army of guys in Vamp Daddy's mansion to welcome him home. Plus his gf in a cage. Not nice!

Loser Li furthering the gay agenda, "I'm more than just obsessed with you. I've literally devoted myself to you."

Ep 10

Haifong Army HQ, BDSM gay capital of China atm

Flirting between bars, etc et al

I'll say this for the baddies, they all now consider Mi Lan smart and an actual threat.

Mu Lihua is smoking. Literally and figuratively.

Vamp Daddy just taking out a squadren with himself and a sword 👌👌👌👌👌

Yayyyyy murder \o/

Love the squishy sound effects of his rampage

lmaoooooooooooo the Mu magic yang ring has him spinning like a bad powerpoint animated transition

Hannibal Lector face mask is a go

"Since he can't be killed, I'm sure he can't feel pain" ...um... I am not sure that makes any kind of sense at all.

"He said he'll cooperate." Loser Li just visibly came in his pants 😂😭

[autobot2001]

Hannibal and Will's Valentine's Day Surprise for Jamie

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: NBC's Hannibal Rating: G Warning: None pairing: None Description: Hannibal and Will plan a nice day on Valentine's Day to celebrate their friendship with Jamie. Counting this as my 2025 Valentine's day special. Even though it's a day late.

Day14.2 @fluffyfebruary:  free space @fluffbruary:  voice |  swim | paint

Ao3 or inder the cut

With no plans for Valentine's Day tomorrow, Hannibal suggests Jamie and Will come to his house. Jamie suggests going swimming. The two men agree with the idea. Agreeing to meet at the club's private pool. "It feels disgusting to be this happy about her speaking up about plans," Will sighs as the two men watch Jamie's motorcycle drive away. "I know it's hard, but this is good. Jamie is using her voice. Progress remains elusive given her circumstances." "I don't care if it's odd, but I want us to show her how much we love her as her friends on Valentine's Day." Hannibal smiles at the idea. The two make plans.

Will picks up Jamie at her house and drives to the club. Hannibal waits for both of them, holding a bag.

At the club's front desk, Hannibal tells the receptionist Jamie and Will are with him. They go to the locker rooms to change.

They meet in the poolroom. Hannibal and Will wear swimming shorts, while Jamie is wearing shorts and a T-shirt. "You don't have to cover up for us," Will says. "I'm fine," Jamie insists. They enjoy a swim for a while. Hannibal gets the idea of the three racing while swimming laps. Hannibal and Will knew Jamie would be fast and anticipated a workout. "Ok, that's fifteen laps, you win," Will declares. Exiting the pool, they spent some time in the hot tub before changing.

Will and Jamie follow Hannibal to his house.

Hannibal goes to the kitchen to cook the food he prepared this morning. Jamie and Will sit in the living room. Jamie takes her tablet out of her bag and starts sketching. Will is unaware that he's the subject. An hour passes. Hannibal walks into the living room, quiet enough that Jamie doesn't know. Will watches him approach Jamie and see what she's doing. He smiles at the detailed sketch. "That's nice," he says, startling Jamie. She drops the tablet on the floor. Will picks up the tablet and smiles. "It's amazing," Will comments. Jamie turns her head to not look at him. "Awe, come on, don't be shy." Will accidentally exits the canvas and sees Jamie has several sketches of himself and Hannibal, some of which are colored. He smiles but says nothing before returning to the canvas Jamie was working on and giving back her tablet. "Dinner is done," Hannibal says. Jamie puts her tablet in her bag and enters the dining room with Hannibal and Will.

This dinner lacks Hannibal's gourmet touch. He and Hannibal agreed he'd make one of Jamie's favorites, which they also like. Hannibal pours himself and Will wine while he makes Jamie the drink she likes with Kaluha. Hannibal and Will attempt to talk to Jamie but have no luck. Even bringing up Will's seven dogs doesn't work. Hannibal and Will are used to this, but know it's important to try getting Jamie to talk to them.

After dinner, Hannibal brings out a small heart-shaped marble cake with 'We love you' written on it. Jamie knows this is platonic love, friends showing their love, but she still smiles. The two men smile at her reaction. They eat half the cake before going to the living room. Hannibal gets a book he's been reading, Will is on his phone, and Jamie is on her tablet painting the sketch she worked on earlier. For Hannibal, Jamie, and Will, it's relaxing; however, Will noted Hannibal's need for a television. An hour later, Will and Jamie get ready to leave.

"This was a good day," Will said as the two watched Jamie enter Will's car. "Given her difficulties, today proved positive." "Good night, Hannibal." "Good night, Will." Hannibal enters the house once Will's car pulls out of the driveway.

[honeygrahambitch]

"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."

"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"

"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."

Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.

"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.

"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."

"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.

Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.

"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."

Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.

Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.

He wished Will would allow him to care for him.

That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.

As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.

"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.

Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.

"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.

"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.

"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."

Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.

Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.

Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.

"We can pass notes."

"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.

"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."

"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.

"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.

"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.

Will nodded.

[nanakiwii]

STARDEW VALLEY HANNIGRAM???

What the actual-?!

Really????

The voices won.

I regret nothing.

---------

Prison was boring.

Being locked up, as Hannibal expected, was all about routine and schedule. You wake up, eat, shower and shit when they tell you to. Good behavior was the key to bring back some of his old life pleasures: books and music, for example, were some of those achievements he earned.

But, Hannibal sensed he still needed something, or, someone to fill this void he called existence. After three years of isolation and intense silence, Hannibal couldn't help but to dig in every interaction he shared with his beloved.

In the time while they were apart, Will - somehow - managed to get engaged and marry a faceless woman and, as much as it hurt Hannibal, he couldn't deny he was happy to see Will as desperate as himself to try to easy the pain of their distance.

The lack of human contact didn't do great to his temperament and Hannibal knew we was becoming more "sassy" as days passed. He was bored. The bliss of the attention he received by the media was gone for ages. He found every assumption of his "diagnose" wrong and very dumb. "If this is the proof of human brightness, then we're destined to live in darkness" he thought.

It was this boredom that made him poke Alana Bloom until he discovered a way to taunt Will and to end his sickening loneliness.

Stardew Valley.

Apparently, it was farming game he could play with friends and family. And who was Will if not a friend and part of his family? Well, Hannibal guessed he had to find a way to play this exquisite video game with his precious Will.

---------

~ Inspired by this horrendous comic I drew on the printscreen brush tool a long time ago while I was sleep deprived and very very bored.

Text:

Will: "What is this game about?"

Hannibal: "I suppose it's a farm game, Will."

Will: "And, why you wanna play with me?"

Hannibal: "Well, Alana commented about it, and I'm curious."

Will: "I don't believe you."

Hannibal: "Come on, Will. I'm locked and bored. Help me out."

Will: "Fine."

Later...

Will *behind a computer screen*: "I still don't know how you manage to have those things."

Hannibal *also behind a computer screen*: "I'm a very behaved prisoner."

Will: "..."

Will: "No, look, let's just play."

[Stardew Valley home screen]

Hannibal: "Soo much hair options."

Will: "Shut up."

Hannibal: "What do I put on 'favorite thing?'"

Hannibal: "Such a hard question!"

Will: "I wrote 'dogs'"

Hannibal: "Yeah, I suppose you did."

Will: "You want me to ask, don't you?"

Hannibal: "Ask what?"

Will: "What did you write?"

Hannibal: "Oh, hoho... You would be surprised."

Will: "If you say 'pork' I'll kill you."

Hannibal: "Then, you better pick a knife."

Will: "Fuck you and your cannibal jokes, Hannibal!"

Hannibal: "Me and my jokes."

[Hannibal's character building screen:

Name: Hannibal M.D

Farm Name: Hospital

Favorite Thing: Will Graham ]

End.

AGAIN: SORRY ABOUT THE MAJOR GRAMMAR AND ENGLISH ERRORS. I WAS HALF ASLEEP HALF ALIVE AND I NEEDED SOME CRACK FIC TO KEEP GOING!

I wanted to post it somewhere because I keep laughing alone about what I made and wanted to share with other people.

The art is shit, but someday I'll make something better (I probably won't. Will I?)

[mrsfrederickchilton]

FREDERICK. Chapter 12

Dear Readers, just in case, to avoid misunderstandings, I will mention once again that the Reader's lover is absolutely NOT Hannibal, he is younger and he is definitely not a cannibal, so in some sense he is a new character.

Everything that you hadn't noticed until now began to slowly take shape into a bleeding mosaic. A random comment. A slight delay. An evasive answer. A reaction to the news. Avoiding details about his life. No phone or social media. On its own, none of this seemed strange to you, and you were blinded by his dark glow, visible only to you. But now...

They say one of those horrible murders was committed in this area.

You closed the freezer, forgetting how to breathe.

I'll make sure nothing happens to you.

You felt his presence in the kitchen.

It's not about you. It's just me.

You forced yourself to turn around.

His bangs were flying over one eye, his facial features were sharpened, his lips were pressed into a thin line. This was not the man you thought you knew at all. You wanted to be alone with him at his house, but the only thing you wanted right now was to get out of here alive.

He had warned you.

He wanted you to leave. He wanted to hurt you, so you wouldn't get closer. So you wouldn't find out who he really was.

You didn't see the desire to kill you in his eyes. But you knew he would.

He pulled the largest knife out of the holder. You grabbed the empty tonic bottle. There was nothing else at hand. You imagined him plunging the knife into your heart as you were just about to swing. It was okay, because you were already dead. Your heart has become hollow, so his knife will easily pass through your emptiness. Easier than many times before, with others.

There was no justice being done here, but the scales were balanced. A body shaking with the awareness of danger, choking with horror at what might happen next, and a soul shattered into glass chips, frozen from the cold, left in that freezer.

Why. Exactly. Him.

You haven't said a word to each other. Words were unnecessary. They couldn't express what you both felt anyway. He took a step towards you, you instinctively took a step back. He took another, you remained standing. You clutched the bottle tighter. You wondered if you would have time to knock the bottom off it to make a more dangerous weapon out of it. You thought that your sudden movement would provoke him anyway. You thought that you didn't want to know what would happen next. He took another step. If you had run or tried to defend yourself, it would have been easier for him. But you froze, clutching the bottle in your hand, looking at him and feeling the darkness approaching you. You were ready to give in to it. To let it surround you. You looked at him and felt your heart beating faster and faster in this dry kitchen silence, the silence of the freezer, death and despair. Faster and faster. This was not the man you thought you knew and the one you fell madly in love with.

And yet, it was him.

Afterwards, you kept replaying the scene in your head, trying to find some other explanation for it. Something that would make you take responsibility for everything that happened after that. From that evening until this very day. But there were no other explanations. It really was beyond your control. Beyond your will. And his, too. A tangible magnetic pull that was impossible to resist. The situation you found yourself in heightened all your senses. You had nowhere to run.

Only forward.

Electric current. A bottle rolling under the table. A hormonal surge. A knife falling to the floor. Fear. Bitterness on your lips. Passion. Cold skin burning your fingertips.

It was chemistry, and there was nothing you could do about it. If he really wanted to kill you, or if you wanted to die for some reason, it wouldn’t have worked like that. But you didn’t want to. You wanted to rewind time, but it was impossible.

And then you stopped it.

He carried you to the bedroom, and you weren't sure if you'd survive the night.

You weren't sure if you wanted to survive it.

Desire on the verge of death, convulsive despair, mindless terror. He was wiping you off the face of the earth and sending you back into the darkness. He was filling your bitter emptiness with black honey sweetness and ripping out your heart. He was burning you alive, and you didn't want it to ever stop. Because then — then there would be only darkness.

The final chords — and the unbearable, incomprehensible symphony modulates into a pre-dawn requiem. You lie there, losing track of time, not daring to move, not breathing, feeling the blood slow down, the heart quiet down, and you wish it would calm down forever. Wish that "after" would never come.

But it does.

He touched you and it was like lightning struck you. Feeling like you were losing the last of your sanity, you threw off the covers and ran to the bathroom closest to the bedroom. You sat down on the cold tiles, forgetting to latch the door. And finally allowed yourself to breathe. You had been gone for quite some time. And even though he knew you weren't going anywhere, he got out of bed, quietly opened the door and saw you on the floor, soundlessly sobbing, your fingers clutching the hanging shower curtain. You were pulling so hard that one ring came off.

He closed the door and went back to bed, and you were left tossing and turning in pain in the confined space of your soul's well. The water in it had turned dark, and a sharp stone thrown across the surface sent painful circles, forcing you to rip the curtain ring by ring until it fell to the floor. You wanted to wrap yourself in it and suffocate. You wanted to wrap him in it and strangle him. Maybe you should wrap that arm and whatever else might still be in this house in it and pretend it never happened.

When you had no strength left to cry or think, you stood up, washed your face with ice-cold water, wiped your face with a rough, scratchy towel, and left the bathroom. You would leave or die — now, immediately. Either option would be fine for you. You would not stay in this house anymore. With him.

Not after what had happened.

You gathered your clothes from the bedroom floor and got dressed, not looking at him. Ready to get a knife in the back at any moment. Another one. You headed for the exit. He sat up on the bed, and you froze. You turned to face him. His gaze was icy, inhuman, nailing you to the spot. You still found the strength to take a small step back, towards the door. He tensed up, like a predator ready to pounce, and you broke out in a cold sweat. You clearly saw yourself running to the door, and he grabbed you in two counts. You took another step, not taking your eyes off him. He was silent and did not move, only watching you, waiting for the moment to attack. To your left, on the nightstand, lay the keys to the door. Seeing them, you remembered that the door was indeed locked, and these extra seconds of delay could easily kill you. You felt dizzy and leaned against the wall. He still hadn't moved, which was more frightening than if he'd tried to stop you. You reached for the keys. He looked at the keys, at you, at the door. His fingers dug into the mattress. You clutched the keys in your hand. At least you knew which one to use. But you didn't know how to make yourself turn around, run to the door, and open it. Your hand shook with terror, and the keys slipped onto the floor. You doubled over as if you'd been punched in the stomach. This is the end. Your eyes met his. You finally caught something human in him, but it didn't matter. What mattered was dying with dignity. Trying to escape after all. You grabbed the keys, and when you looked up, you couldn't believe your eyes.

It's impossible.

He lay down, turned to the wall and covered himself with the blanket, as if he was going to get a good night's sleep. As if he didn't care at all what you were going to do next.

You backed up to the door, not taking your eyes off the bed. Nothing. You pressed your back against the door. Nothing.

He knew you would run to the police in terror.

You started frantically inserting the key into the keyhole. A turn. You looked back — nothing.

He knew he had to kill you.

Another turn. You forced yourself not to turn around again. You forced yourself to gather all the remaining strength to run the most important marathon of your life.

You forced yourself to open the door.

He let you go.

Next chapter (Chapter 13)

Masterlist

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Pain Relief (Hannigram S1) - Shortfic

Explicit // M/M // Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham // Tags: season 1, sick fic, pain relief, orgasms as pain relief, masturbation, fantasising, masturbation interruptus, hand job, blow job, happy ending. Patreon prompt fill.

Will has a near debilitating migraine, Hannibal offers to help with pain relief.

Pain Relief (2.5k):

Will winced and rubbed his forehead, as though that was going to make any difference. 

“Is everything alright, Will?” Hannibal asked from where he sat opposite him in his office, their usual appointment for Will’s therapy - their conversations.

Will shook his head gently, causing another explosion of pain just above his eyes, “headache. Can’t shake it.”

That was downplaying it, he knew. He’d had headaches like this more times than he could count. The sort that rolled on and on for days until they finally became a migraine. And then, he’d only chug more pills and hope for the best. If he was lucky it would pass quickly, if not it would be another day or more of light and sound sensitivity, nausea, vomiting, shakes, and the skull splitting pain that flared with every movement he made. 

“I’ve already taken aspirin,” Will added, preempting that question, but unsurprised when Hannibal offered—

“I can prescribe you something stronger if you’d like?”

This time Will avoided shaking his head, “No, I have meds. They just… they make me foggy. I’m no good to Jack if I take them.”

Hannibal let out a light huff of derision that Will was coming to know well. Hannibal cleared his throat, but didn’t make his usual obvious comments, about Will putting himself before Jack and his demands. Before the job. Instead he continued—

“There are other methods that may offer you some relief. Ones that won’t leave you unfit for work. More so than you already are now.” There was a tease in his tone.

Will started to chuckle but stopped as his head throbbed, “Are you going to offer me some herbal remedies? Incense? Maybe the number of a good masseuse?”

Hannibal chuckled in return, humouring him. “Those things can help, as can natural methods of pain relief, anything that releases endorphins. Acupuncture, meditation, even playing music. And of course, reaching orgasm.”

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