#Hannibals just like for the love of god please eat a vegetable

[hannibal-is-my-comfort-show]

Will posting shit like this when Hannibal goes on work trips purposely to piss him off:

[fromthewifecage]

Imagine Kombants sees Reader with bunches of cats

I LOVE kitties, all kitties, ALL of them. So do Erron Black, Johnny Cage, Nightwolf, Bi-Han and Kano. As usual Kano is last so if you don’t like him then you don’t have to read that one.(Yeah I kinda got over excited writing this and went a bit crazy. The Johnny Cage one is inspired by a scene in Red Dragon/Hannibal.)Hope this is ok, if not then feel free to throw a shoe at me.

Erron Black: (So this I actually took from a stupid Cowboy/Victorian Lady (called Clementine) thing I’ve been writing. It’ll never be finished because it needs to be probably 50k words or more, but this bit I liked writing. Erron’s trying to be a better man, got caught up trying to save a kids life, but the kid died, and Erron’s pretty cut up about it. Yes it’s not the reader with a bunch of cats, it’s about Erron with a cat, but the other Kombatant’s scenarios definitely the reader with kitties!! Please don’t hate me.)

Arms slid around his waist, her body pressed hard to his back and enveloped him in a much needed embrace. His head drooped forward, shoulders slumping, his head in his hands. He’d tried his best, hadn’t he? But it wasn’t good enough, never was. He was a God-damned failure.To his eternal shame his eyes prickled with the threat of tears. He hadn’t cried since Ma had screamed at him for crying over the body of a barn cat. The large ginger cat had been Erron’s only friend since he’d had first found the cat. He’d first seen it sat upon a dark brown saddle in the barn, the saddle’s leather gleaming from the earlier oiling. The cat paused between washing its ears to stare, and when Erron held out a hand it took a moment to sniff at his fingertips before going back to its wash.

Erron had named the cat Peter and they’d quickly become firm friends. Peter would chase after mice and spiders, batting at them with a large ginger paw until he got tired of the chase and quickly killed them. Erron would bring Peter scraps of meat and cheese filched from the larder as a reward. Erron would often find half a mouse in one of his boots, Peter obviously thinking Erron was too skinny and needed fattening up, and Peter was right, Ma was far too stingy with her portions. If Erron had been judged to ‘deserve sleeping outside’, usually after answering his Ma back or being caught filching from the larder, then Erron would climb the long rickety ladder to reach the hay loft, and spend the night with Peter on his chest, purring happily.

They’d been friends for 3 long summers until Erron had gone into the barn at the end of a particularly hot and long day helping in the fields. Ma found Erron sobbing over Peter’s stiff and lifeless body, and dragged him back into the house by his ear, beating him harshly for caring about “that ginger shit more than you care about the rest o’ us.” It was true, so Erron didn’t put up a fight as he took his hits. He merely filed away the hate with all the other times she’d beat him, hurt him, scorned him and neglected him, so when years later, he stood by Ma’s bed as she took her final breaths with cancer riddled lungs, he shed no tears.

Erron sat there, fighting with the sadness of not being able to save the child, until the small bedchamber was dark enough that he could barely see his own hands. Clementine still held him, had made no protest or whispered fake platitudes that he’d get over it or he’ll feel better soon. She’d let him take the time he needed.

More after the cut! (these ones really are about the reader with kitties, promise!)

Johnny Cage: Johnny is more excited than you are for your birthday. His grin has been extra sparkly for the entire past month, and each hint about what he’s got for you has been more ridiculous than the last. You keep trying to tell him you don’t want a fuss, and to not spend more than £20 on a present, but it’s like telling a child they have to eat their broccoli if they want ice cream for afters. He’s not going to eat the broccoli, he’s sneaking into the freezer as soon as your back is turned.

He wakes you up extra early, despite your protests that it’s your birthday and you want to sleep. In the end he picks you up and carried you into the shower, washes your hair and refuses to leave the bathroom until you brush your teeth. He doesn’t stop singing ‘Happy Birthday’ either. Even when you threaten to leave him he doesn’t stop being annoyingly amazingly cute.

He blindfolds you in the car (the driver starts to get worried that you’ll ruin the seat leather but Johnny calms them down with promises there’ll be no sex in the car) and does his best to confuse you with increasingly remote landmark spotting. Quite how you’ve gone from home to the Louvre, past the Pyramids via the Lin Kuei Temple, you have no idea. Eventually he leads you from the car, your hand tightly in his grasp and a hand on your shoulder so you don’t stumble.

As you walk to your secret destination you hear all sorts of animal and bird sounds, chirruping, squeaking (including a couple of gasps from some humans along with “OMG it’s Johnny Caaaaaaaaaaage” whispered under their breaths), some growling, even trumpeting.“Surprise!” Johnny stage whispers as he unties your blindfold, leaving you blinking in the dim light.

Before you is a scene from one of your very best daydreams. A room full of lion cubs, each one rolling, biting, investigating, chewing or playing with it’s brothers and sisters. A hand clasps over your mouth when your heart bursts with joy, Johnny chuckling and letting you know that the kitties are so little that they’ll be scared by squeals of happiness. The zookeepers are more than happy to let you play with the cubs, showing you how to feed the furballs, how to hold them and cuddle them.

You spend the rest of your birthday in lion cub heaven. Johnny takes so many photos of you surrounded by the kitties that his photo groans, and of course you take a bunch of him with the cubs too, he’s just as excited by the balls of fluff and teeth as you are and he almost cries when it’s time to go home.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

Nightwolf: The man is an expert on nature in all its forms. He can live self sufficiently from a small plot of land, he built his own home and keeps not only real animals happy, but spirit animals too. An ideal day for him would be to tend to his crops and land during the day and spend the evening surrounded by his animal and human companions.You’ve spent significant time with Nightwolf, and he’s grown not only to love you, but trust you to share his life and loves. Hana took a while to warm up to you, but will now sit on your shoulder almost as happily as she will with Nightwolf (it took many batches of mini pancakes for her to get to this stage, and now she demands you make her some food whenever you cook).

Nightwolf is in the kitchen when he realises you’ve run out of salad ingredients. The evening air is warm and sweet, the frogs by the small creek are noisily calling for mates, and the idea of a short walk to the vegetable plot to stretch your legs before dinner sounds appealing. Hana follows you out the door, first taking to the sky and circling the house, then drops down to land upon your shoulder, tugging at strands of your hair in her own way of looking after you. As you gather some lettuce Hana squawks and flaps her wings, then flies over to a patch at the very end of the plot, squawking some more. You call out to her, maybe one of the frogs has got lost?

But it’s not a frog you find, it’s even cuter than that. It’s a tired stripy cat with large ears, surrounded by the smallest of kittens, each one latched to a teat. You gasp excitedly and whisper to Hana to go fetch Nightwolf. Hana gives one final indignant squawk, then flies off, returning on the shoulder of the beautiful man you love.

“Welcome back Koko, it is an honour to meet your children.”

Nightwolf greets the cat as a friend, and your heart melts a little more for this wonderful man. He asks you to stay with the kitty family whilst he returns to the house to fetch some things. Koko watches you with sleepy eyes, trusting that since Nightwolf trusts you, you aren’t a threat. You don’t reach for the kittens, they are far too tiny to play with, but you make a wish upon the stars that you’ll get to play with them when they’re a little older.

Nightwolf returns carrying one of the chicken coops he’d been mending and with blankets in a backpack. He sets up a little home for the cats in the dark corner of the vegetable plot. You’ll be able to visit the kittens whenever you like (with Koko’s permission of course).

Yay for kittens!

Bi-Han: The man might be a deadly (the Lin Kuei are NOT ninjas) ninja assassin, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a heart. As a trained spy he has to take notice of everything, no matter how innocuous it seems, so he knows more about you than you know about yourself. So he knows that you’re getting a little lonely in his absences, and recently, he’s been absent a lot more due to an influx of contracts.

You’ve tried so hard not to show your loneliness, thinking it would upset Bi-Han and make him consider breaking off your relationship to try to save you from more pain, and that has crossed his mind. Then he looked upon his life and decided that he didn’t need anything but you, and that no matter how often you were apart, it was the together that mattered.

It was early morning, the blood of his latest target swirling down the sink as he scrubbed himself clean, when his phone blinked with a new message from you. His smile curling the corner of his mouth when he sees that you’ve sent yet another cat picture, this one of 2 kittens wearing ninja outfits with the caption “You and Kuai!” Bi-Han is about to flick back up through the conversation to where you’ve sent some pictures of yourself rather than kittens, when his smile widens as an idea pings into his head.

You’re woken by a cold gentle kiss to your forehead, a brush of icy fingers across your cheek when you stir then wake with a happy yawn.

“You’re home!”

You sprint to the bathroom to first wee then brush your teeth, sprinting back to jump into Bi-Han’s fierce embrace. When he doesn’t immediately tug off your pyjamas you’re puzzled, the man is normally insatiable. He laughs at your pout and tugs you into the living room where he nods towards a box resting on the table.

“Happy Tuesday!”

His grin is huge when you squeak upon looking inside the box to find two kittens curled around each other. It widens even further watching you cry with happiness when the kittens wake to first sniff you, then immediately demand attention. He pulls out his phone and takes some pictures, seeing you this excited has to be recorded.

Yay for kittens!

Kano: The big burly scary Australian beefcake actually has a soft spot. You.

You’ve heard the stories, the ones about him scaring someone so much they wet themselves and when Kano laughed at their fear they burst into tears. About the time he had someone skinned alive and thrown onto the street. Kano could be a Bond villain, he already has the one-eye thing down, he had the comfiest squidgiest chair for his desk (it swivelled so Kano could spin around when he got bored), all he needed was a cat for him to stroke when watching a Special Forces member wet themselves.

You’d gone to the animal shelter to pick up a cat for him (he’d laughed at your idea then shrugged.

“I already got my kitten, but if you want a kitty, I ain’t gonna stop ya.”

Then he’d pulled you into his arms and kissed you until you forgot how to breathe.)

At first you were going to adopt the fluffy white cat with the huge blue eyes, she was gorgeous, but it was when you were walking to the corner of the room to discreetly take a phone call when you saw the 2 kitties that had been forgotten by everybody. They sat by their small window, peering out into the world they’d never get to experience again. One of the kitties had lost a leg, the veterinary nurse later telling you she’d been attacked by an enormous dog and had carried on fighting even when she’d lost the leg. The other had only 1 eye, again, having lost it in a fight. Your heart went out to these sweet brave kitties, and you knew you could give them the best home.

“What you got there, love?”

Kano stood in the doorway, bare chested as usual, huge 'sexy-as-hell' grin as usual.

“I couldn’t leave them, no-one wanted them and they’re all little.”

Kano looked from you down to the kitties exploring every nook and cranny of the bedroom, tails twitching secret messages to each other as they couldn’t believe that they were finally out of the shelter. He chuckled then strolled over to you to wrap you up in a huge embrace.

“Think that one wants a cyber eye?”

[zacharybosch]

PLAYING DEAD - chapter 1

wheeeeeee here it is, the sequel to Playing God! which is my vampire AU for anyone who doesn’t know!

i’m also posting this as part of Vampire Hannibal Fest organised by @gleamingandwholeanddeadly!

read chapter 1 of Playing Dead below or on ao3! yayyyy!

Hannibal knows pain, and he knew fear, once. What he feels now is not quite akin to either, but shares more in common than it holds in opposition. It’s bizarre, the way he feels so entirely outside of his body, as though he’s floating four feet up in the air and is gazing down upon himself and all his blood on the beautiful marble floor of his entrance foyer.

He can hear great bells ringing, and the low rumble of huge drums, crashing in his ears like the restless roll of the ocean. The colours of his house alternately brighten and fade around him, and everything blurs, until it doesn’t, and becomes sharp, until it’s not.

The earth moves and shakes around him, and he’s in his kitchen, blacking out and coming to over and over again. The butcher block, he’s being butchered over the butcher block just as he’s butchered so many others before him. This can’t all be his blood, surely, there’s so much and it just keeps coming, filling his nose and mouth and ears and lungs, but then it’s only filling one ear because the other one is no longer attached to his head, and was it always like that? Hannibal can’t remember what his body was like, if he ever even had a body to begin with.

Every second stretches for an eternity and it’s like being born, but also dying, but also living, but it’s definitely like dying now because the Devil himself is looming over him, spilling black ichor on his skin, and Hannibal knew, he always knew that he would enter Hell as a king in splendor, to be greeted by Lucifer and all the legions of the dead.

He inclines his head and spreads his hands and takes a graceful step forwards into night.

***

The Santa Maria del Fiore was older than Will by all of twenty-two years, if he counted from the year that construction began. Counting from the year of completion, Will beat it by one hundred and eighteen. Not that it was a competition; indeed, he’d never even had a chance to visit the Duomo over the years, to compare cracks and weathering and general wear-and-tear.

Now that he walked past it on a near daily basis, Will had decided that it was in fact a competition, and that he was most certainly winning. All credit where it was due: the Duomo certainly looked impressive, but it required a huge amount of work to keep it that way, whereas Will remained damn near perfect with only minimal maintenance required.

It was a shame that Hannibal didn’t get to walk beside Will through the streets of Florence; he would’ve enjoyed it, and could even perhaps have been persuaded to admit that the Duomo’s magnificence was nothing compared to Will.

But it couldn’t be helped. Will had tried to turn him that night in Baltimore, but successfully turning a human was notoriously difficult even under perfect conditions, and given the circumstances at the time it was no wonder that Will had failed. But he would live with the consequences of his failure, just as he had lived for the past seven hundred years; there would be opportunities to begin again, somewhere new, anywhere he wanted. Florence was little more than an indulgence, really. A distraction. Hannibal had spoken of it so often, starry-eyed and staring off into the distance, so it only seemed appropriate that Will see what all the fuss was about. He’d missed the city entirely during the Renaissance, a good portion of which Will had spent in eastern Europe in thrall to the one who turned him. By the time he escaped the clutches of his maker, his taste for Europe had soured considerably, and he boarded a ship bound for the New World and never looked back.

Perhaps he had missed a trick there, in not coming to Florence when it was still the beating heart at the centre of the world. Modern Florence was uncomfortably heaving with tourists, and it seemed unthinkable that Hannibal could ever have loved such a place. The architecture was beautiful, yes, and the history that saturated the place was no doubt fascinating, but the effect was somewhat lessened by the noisy bar on the corner and the hawkers selling plastic trinkets on the Piazza. Probably better for everyone that Hannibal was out of the picture; Will could too easily envisage the countless unfortunate tourists that would’ve met an unhappy end at Hannibal’s hands.

Not that there weren’t a few who were meeting unhappy ends at Will’s hands. But that was beside the point.

Will wended his way through the crowded city streets until he came out onto a market square, no less filled with people but skewing slightly more towards locals than tourists. He had a few things to pick up, but otherwise little else to do that day but kill time. He didn’t like spending too much of his time in the house; it belonged to Hannibal, and was full of Hannibal’s things.

To the enclosed market hall first, for another random selection of food that he thought probably looked like a reasonable meal but which he wasn’t going to eat. Perhaps he’d get some artichokes today; the neat symmetry of the vegetable was pleasing to look at, and counting the leaves as he tore them off one by one would be eminently satisfying. Not to mention, the grocer who owned the best vegetable stall in the market could tell that there was something off about Will, and it amused him to spend too long silently perusing the vegetables just to make the man unsettled.

The grocer, as expected, greeted Will with his usual wary signore, and Will, as expected, smiled and kept smiling and didn’t look away as he gathered up every artichoke the man had in stock.

Then to the second-hand clothing vendor out on the forecourt, for more shirts. Will seemed to be buying shirts nearly every week, and if it wasn’t shirts then it was trousers. He should really find some wholesaler and just start buying in bulk, great boxes full of cheap t-shirts and sweatpants, but the thought of keeping such ugly things in Hannibal’s house was uncomfortable in a way that Will couldn’t quite pinpoint. The house was like a mausoleum, and Will had always had a healthy sense of reverence and respect for death. At least the clothes from the market seller were of a good quality and solid construction, if a little musty with age.

The clothes seller didn’t find Will off-putting at all, and was always too happy to chatter mindlessly in his ear while Will idly inspected buttonholes and counted the stitches running along hemlines. It helped with the verisimilitude, if nothing else.

With his canvas shopping bag filled, Will ambled out of the square and onwards to a nearby public garden. It was as pleasant a place as any to spend the remainder of the day; the people-watching was good, and the noise of the city was muffled by the high surrounding walls and the spreading canopy of the trees.

It had been nearly six months since his escape from Baltimore, and the freedom to sit and wile away the day on a park bench still felt somewhat foreign to Will. He had known so many freedoms over the course of his long life; the freedom to live, in spite of the onward march of time; freedom to fight and kill and sing the praises of death on wide dusty plains, or out on the open ocean; freedom from the drudgery of bodily functions and needs; the freedom to be beholden to but one thing and one thing only: the call of blood.

But right now, to sit on a park bench in the full flush of the Florentine summer was perhaps the sweetest freedom of them all. He could sit there for a thousand years as the whole city crumbled around him, and remain perfectly content all the while so long as the sun kept shining and the Earth kept spinning.

Will did not sit there for a thousand years, but he did sit there long enough for the sun to start sinking, shadows stretching across the park and roseate light fading into dusk. He’d need to go home soon; he’d been too long out of the house already, and there were unfortunate necessities to which he should attend.

On his way back through the twisting little streets, Will came upon an easy mark. There was no reason to pounce; he’d drained someone dry just last week, and wouldn’t need to feed again for the rest of the month. But where need was satisfied, desire was not, and Will began to pursue the solitary figure down a darkening alleyway.

He was a middle-aged man, skin turned tough and coppery by a lifetime spent outdoors. He would taste clean and simple, of oil and bread and the rolling green hills of the Tuscan countryside. Will picked up his pace, quick, steady steps until he was almost breathing down the man’s neck. He threaded a finger into the gold chain laying across the man’s nape, using it to jerk him back lightning-fast against his chest, then slamming him forward into the wall.

It was quick work after that. Will pulled the man’s shirt aside and bit down deep where shoulder met neck. He was dazed from being thrown against the wall, and didn’t struggle much. Will didn’t take a lot of blood, just enough to satisfy his impulse and keep him from stalking several more people on the rest of his walk home. It wouldn’t be smart to drop another body so soon. It wasn’t smart to be feeding at all, really. He’d already lingered in Florence too long. Someone would start to notice.

Will pulled a small folding knife from his shopping bag and made a few cuts over the bite mark, back and forth through the punctures until the area was a checkerboard mess of skin and blood. Then he flipped the man around so they were face to face, and slapped at his cheek until he roused enough for Will to catch his gaze.

“What’s your name?” Will asked. “Do you understand me?”

“Fr… Franco…” the man said, and then he started to slump, arms hanging heavy at his side and legs on the verge of buckling. Will must’ve taken more blood than he thought, or the man was already infirm to begin with.

Will shoved Franco more forcefully up against the wall and held his lolling head in one firm hand. He had admittedly become lazy with clearing his tracks; too many random, unconnected victims across too many cities to bother wiping and replacing all their memories, and it didn’t matter if he left a few empty minds when they were all so scattered. But Will was sharply aware of the fact that he’d left too many blank holes in the heads of Florence already. It wouldn’t take much for someone to link them to the bodies and start seeing patterns.

“You’re drunk, Franco. You stumbled into a railing and lacerated your shoulder. When you look at the wound later in the mirror, it won’t bother you enough to question it. Sit down now, have a rest before you go home. You’re drunk.”

Franco stared hazily into Will’s eyes, unblinking and nodding. Will carefully removed his hands from where they pinned Franco to the wall, and then Franco was no longer staring at Will, but through him, and he wandered off haphazardly a short way down the alley before stopping and sitting down on the cool cobblestones.

Will melted back into the shadows of the alley and was gone in an instant.

The sun had fully set by the time Will got back to the house. It was an unassuming building from the outside, with its plain facade of smooth, pale stone and the high, solitary window that looked out over the street. The shutters were made of a dark cherry wood, and they were flung wide open.

Will stood outside the front door for a long time, just listening. He didn’t remember leaving the shutters open when he left that morning. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the house, couldn’t see any light spilling from cracks in the doorframe. Cautiously, he opened the door and set his shopping bag down inside the hallway.

He crept silently across the floor, fangs already out and ready to clamp down on whoever had made the mistake of intruding. As he ascended the stairs, he had the absurd thought that maybe he hadn’t wiped Franco as thoroughly as he should have, and now he was here with the proverbial torch and pitchfork. Getting paranoid over humans was as clear a sign as any to Will that he should move on from Florence soon.

But Will’s paranoia proved entirely unfounded: there was no intruder in the house. Rounding the top of the stairs and coming out onto the landing, he could see that it was only Hannibal, shuffling around the room like a corpse with his IV drip and his petty little resentments. He had churlishly opened the window and flung wide the shutters in some attempt to cause trouble.

The first thing Will did was slam the shutters and close the window. He’d taken great pains to conceal Hannibal as they moved across the continent, and he was not prepared to have their cover blown now just because Hannibal was feeling grumpy.

The second thing Will did was to ignore Hannibal for the rest of the evening. It was juvenile, and ultimately useless, but he knew that if he spoke he would say something incendiary, and then Hannibal would fire back with something cruel, and they would waste another evening sniping at each other.

Will had brushed it off the first few times that Hannibal had acted out in such a manner, but with every new weight that strained the fragile bonds between them, Will thought again that maybe it would’ve been better if Hannibal had died in Baltimore.

[wyrm-wolf]

WIP Wonderland

Yoooo! Trying out a fun new thing, where I post some of the WIPs that I’ll probably never get the chance to finish...*crying* I’ll be tagging these fun little things as #WIPWonderland just because I’m lame, and it has a nice ring to it! And for our first WIP is this little Supernatral Hannigram au I tried to write alooong ass time ago, and well...never finished.

~~

Like always when Will had come home from a hunt the door had been slammed open by midnight.

Coming in first was a rustic looking mutt that hoped towards the kitchen, muzzle red from killing another monster. And followed by the dog was a tired looking man, brown curly hair covered under a black beanie as he pushed the glasses that threatened to slip off at any moment. Wild blue eyes surveyed the room, when there was nothing to find he slipped his muddy boots off to set down the gun which had been slung over shoulder.

Following the ripe scent of cooking food to the kitchen, he was met with warm open arms as he entered the kitchen and hugged the fashionable back.

"Will, it always nice to have you back in one piece." Hannibal purred, kissing Will's curls as he removed the infernal hat. Will grunted, and felt his entire body relax with the others touch.

"Me too. This one was a real bugger, nasty little vampire almost bit my ear off, thankfully Winston was there and tore its leg off." At the sound of his name, Winston wooded and ran to his master side, wagging his tail awaiting for some form of treats.

"Yes, well maybe next time you will let me come along with you, instead of leaving me on house arrest." Hannibal insisted, as he released Will to take care of the food he had just made. Will snorted, and tossed Winston a slip of meat, watching as the mutt chew excitedly at the food.

"Now, now Hannibal, you still have a day or two left in here. Maybe this time you'll learn to not go against my directions, and kill some human on the street just because they were rude."

"Will, that man was incredible rude-"

"Hannibal, just because a man makes fun of your taste in clothing doesn't mean you should kill them. This discussion is over, you are under house arrest until I say so."

"It's called fashion Will, maybe you should take a note from it and find something more tasteful to wear. Besides I thought he went well with the white wine we drank that night." Hannibal mused, remember the few nights ago when they were devouring the man's lungs.

"And it wasn't until the day after did I realize you just fed me a regular person, again. So I did what I always do, and locked you up in the house, again."

"Yes, and this time you had a more creative way of averting my eyes from your evil plans. A cunning boy like you had me fooled, leading the monster along into bed just to sneak off when he was sated and slumbering."

Will's face flushed as he remembered the night's activity. It's not that he didn't like Hannibal, no, he loved the goddamn pretentious asshole with unholy taste in fashion, even if he was big a monstrous cannibal. And since he could never hide anything from him-because one way or another Hannibal would find out even if he had to flip the entire house upside down-Will had to try something new with him. What a better way to distract Hannibal than with his own bodily desires, he just never expected to be so sore this time when they were done. His back still hurting when he had to bend over for something.

He felt Hannibal smile above him, as he set a plate of delicious food in front of Will. Purring Hannibal leaned down to kiss his curls, nuzzling into the luscious softness of Will's hair. Will groaned, and leant up to kiss Hannibal's chin, so he would stop with the affection  so he had a chance to eat.

"May I ask what we are having tonight?" Will asked, lifting a forkful of meat into his mouth, moaning at the burst of flavors.

"Indeed. Tonight we are having a simple roast pork, with a side of sauteed vegetables and mushrooms." Hannibal smiled, eating his own plate of food.

"And who are we eating?"

Hannibal smirked, in all his centuries of living he would never get tired of Will's stubborn attitude at him. Nor his snarky comments, but some could get a little over the top.

"Markus Timbold, the werewolf we had killed the previous week."

"Ah, okay."

They continued to eat in to eat in silence, only hearing a few clicks of nails from Winston until the mutt went off to either sleep or eat his own food. And when they finished, Hannibal had stayed downstairs to wash the dishes, as Will went to take a nice long hot shower.

His pale lithe body, worn down and beaten from past hunts and daily activities beaded white scars and bruises. Groaning as the water sprayed against the cuts, and washes away the dirt and grime. Then lathers himself in whatever good smelling soap Hannibal has in their shower, and doesn't get out until his skin is clean and red. He walks into the bedroom naked, white towel wrapped around his waist, to find Hannibal sitting on the edge of their bed with his shoes and suit jacket thrown off. The pupils dilate, expanding wide until the eye looks completely black, just at the sight if Will. Smiling like nothing has even happened.

"Yes, Hannibal, what can I do something for you?" Will asks, shifting a little as he dries his hair off.

Hannibal's chest rumbles a purr, as he sniffs the air, leaning towards Will. "As always my dear, you smell like a walk in the woods, fresh rain and a burning flame. But I can't help but smell some stink still left behind on you."

"Stink? I just took a shower." Will tosses the hair towel into the hamper, and pads over to Hannibal. Letting himself get pulled into the monsters strong grasp, and having Hannibal run his nose up his chest to scent him.

"Yes, you still smell of those filthy vampires you killed, maybe I should wash that scent off for you, love." Hannibal rumbled, nuzzling his face into Will's stomach as he groaned.

"Hannibal, I just showered. I don't want to get dirty a-GAIN!"

Will couldn't finish his sentence as he had been picked up, and thrown onto the bed. The white towel that had once covered his waist was now torn off, as Hannibal growled and crawled over him. Kissing and ravishing his skin with affection, and nips with his pointy teeth.

"I insist." He purred, before delving towards Will's lips.

~~

Will slapped down a newspaper onto the table Hannibal sat at, sipping his coffee and enjoying the ever cooling morning. He raised an eyebrow at Will, as the nude man strode into the kitchen to grab his cup of coffee, and come back pulling Hannibal's red robe over himself. Sipping his coffee once more before setting down, Hannibal grabbed the newspaper, noticing the place that Will wanted him to read at since it had been circled with a red marker.

"Two missing people in the same week at a high school. Oh my, that does sound quit like a monster, especially with those god awful school colors." Hannibal assured, before having the paper town out of his fingers.

"Hannibal it's not the school colors that should be important, yes they look awful, but there's a monster we're dealing right now." Will grumbled, examining the paper before tossing it.

"We're? Are you suggesting that I will be coming along with this trip, dearest Will?" Hannibal asked, smirking as Will rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Hannibal, you're coming along as well. After all you did some pretty good persuading last night, and left me all marked up just how you like it." Will groaned, rubbing at his sore neck where Hannibal had been relentlessly nipping and biting at last night. The monster across from him only sat up a little straighter, as his smirk widen.

"Well, I do try to please my mate when I can." Will glared at Hannibal's all to knowing smile, and sipped at his drink. "So, about me coming along on this trip?"

"After I finish my coffee we'll leave, and no we won't be bring Winston this time before you start asking. So go get a suit on, and make it a regular black suit, please. Last time it took a while before we had the local police convinced that you were an FBI agent." Will sighed, already feeling a headache blossom in his forehead. Hannibal gave him a toothy smile, and a kiss on his curls before he practically ran up the stairs to pick out a suit.

Will groaned, and looked down at Winston who was sitting patiently next to his feat. "You are so lucky that you're not involved with that man as much as I am."

Winston wagged his tail, and woofed before he laid his head back down. Rolling his eyes, Will moved to the back patio where he place the trapping symbol for Hannibal, and smudged the mark so he could be free. And prepared himself so right when he stepped inside he would instantly start feeling Hannibal's power wash over him. The man was quick in his changing of clothes, and when Will stepped back inside the monster was right on top of him sniffing and scenting. Will rolled his eyes, and left him to go change in a more formal apparel for the outside.

"Hannibal there going to know that you're not with the FBI with that tie on." Will hissed in the car.

It had been not even thirty minutes on the road before Will had noticed Hannibal wearing some gaudy looking tie on. Something flamboyant that Hannibal would obviously be wearing. Hannibal had continued to shrug off his every attempt to turn back and change.

"We are already so far in are travels, why stop now?" Hannibal mused as he drove past the previous town. With another groan, Will say back in his seat and let the radio music wash over him. It was not a good idea to let Hannibal come along with him. Hannibal, in all his smugness, sat in the driver's side and continued to drive in silence. Not even bothered when Will had changed the music to some classical rock music.

"Will, we're here."

"Hmmm? Sorry, what?"

"Rough night?"

"Shut up."

Will's face scrunched up when he exited the car, and a bitter taste formed on his tongue at the sight of a high school. Hannibal could feel the tension coming off him, as he set a reassuring hand on his back and led him forward. It did not take long to announce there presence to the principal, who was graciously happy for them to be there, as her eyes didn't even wander when they left lingering touches on each other.

"I'll start looking around for any clues, you get to question the kids." Will stated when they left the principal's office for a minute of silence together.

"Does being in a high school remind you of the years you spent jumping from one to another? Bringing you back to fond memories of a teen with too many hormones, and full of anxiety." Hannibal mused, looking at the paper decorated walls.

"Hannibal, we are not having a discussion about my teen years, nothing good ever came out of them." He hissed, and stomped away from the monster.

"I see. I'll try to keep that in mind for you."

Hannibal spent his time walking down the halls to the auditorium. Taking in each paper and what they had to say, thinking what it would be like if he had ever gone to a high school in his time of life. Although, the idea of it now seemed more distasteful than it had been years ago. Smelling the reeking stench of sweat, hormones, fear, and depression that came of the kids when he passed a class or two. He eyed his way through some of the windows taking in the scene before leaving.

"What a pig mess." He muttered before pushing the doors to the auditorium open, and walking in.

There were about five kids on the stage playing out some fighting scene, three seemed to be dressed as 'awful looking monsters-even if there costumes were the most awful part of the whole dilemma. The other two stood in the middle holding what look like knives, however there was something off about the scene. One kid had curly hair with some plastic glasses, wearing a red flannel and jean jacket looking like he woke up from a bad hangover. While the other wore what looked like a three piece suit, hair gelled back, and held an excellent posture.

"CUT! Cut, cut!" A girl cried out, probably the director of the whole mayhem, as she stood up from her part and walked on stage. "Luke you did a terrible job as playing Will, he needs to be more emotional and wistful. Like you're slowing dying on the inside, more than you already are. As for you, Jean, good job on playing Hannibal, but I'm not really getting the whole murderer vibe from you."

Hannibal couldn't help by raise an eyebrow at the names of the characters, almost like having a fresh bucket of cold water getting thrown on him, as he studied the actors more closely. The girl directing the whole scene apparently noticed him, and came walking(running) over to greet him.

"Hi, are you here for the contracting? Because I have a few changes I'd like to add to the play before anything else." She said firmly. Hannibal raised an eyebrow at her, before clearing his throat and speaking.

"Actually, I'm here under investigation." Hannibal mused, pulled out his fake FBI ID. She gawked at the ID before motioning to the actors to take a break, then led Hannibal to a different room.

"It's not my fault!" She blurted out, when Hannibal shut the door behind himself.

"I was never accusing you of anything, Mrs...?"

The girl seem to calm down after that, giving him an apologetic smile, before speaking, "Oh, sorry about that, I'm Shelby White, but people just call me Shell. If uh...it's not too much to ask, what are you here for Mr...?"

"Dr. Roman Fell, I'm here with my partner on a case about the murders having been going around at this specific high school. Would it be ok if I could ask some questions?"

"Of course, Dr. Fell." She smiled.

"Excellent. Have you noticed anything strange going on recently, maybe before the murders started to happen, anything at all?"

Shelby hummed, tapping her foot a little as she thought to herself, finally a light...

To be continued?? Who knows!!

[lovecrimevariations]

soulmateAU: when your soulmate eats something you grave what they are eating! please! I mean Will poor poor Will graving human meat? goddamnit or Hannibal graving fast food? xD well this can be angsty or funny! :^)

I couldn’t decide between angsty or funny so I wrote both! :D

1.

For the first year, he doesn’t mind it.

The menu doesn’t vary much. It’s mostly cooked fish, steamed vegetables (usually string beans), nicely fluffed rice. It’s whiskey most nights and coffee most mornings (and some mornings it’s coffee and whiskey). It’s the occasional Hershey’s chocolate bar, which makes Hannibal’s palate wince - he really thought he’d taught Will how to appreciate a nice bitter dark chocolate, but he supposes some habits are hard to break.

It’s fresh lemon pie in the summer, and warm cider with rum in the winter. It’s the beef stew that Hannibal gave him the recipe for, made with a really lovely bordeaux.

It’s lomo saltado, once, although there’s a saltwater aftertaste that’s unmistakable.

All of these tastes, lingering in the back of Hannibal’s throat, dancing on the edges of his senses, he savours. Because it’s a small piece of Will that he can still cling to within these white, lifeless walls. It’s why he behaves so perfectly for his guards - the most gentlemanly of murderers - and it works. Works so well that they grant him special meal privileges, all so that Will can still taste Hannibal’s cooking, now and then.

But even that small thread can bring the deepest of pain when tugged too tight, and it does just that on an unremarkable Sunday afternoon.

The day that Hannibal tastes wedding cake on his tongue.

It’s a light sponge, perfectly moist with a dark chocolate buttercream. A simple cake, but well made. The taste makes Hannibal want to vomit.

Then he tastes the ghosting press of fingers as they playfully shove the cake in his - Will’s - face, and he does vomit then.

He retches in his tiny porcelain toilet with violent force, and he holds the stale acrid tang of it in his mouth before he spits, hoping that somewhere far away Will gets a taste.

Then he rinses his mouth out, splashes water on his face, and lies down in his grey cot. He stares up at the void of the ceiling and wishes he could never taste anything ever again.

(fluffy part 2 under the cut)

2.

(three years later)

Will is walking through the streets of Barcelona when the unthinkable happens. He stops in his tracks and brings a hand to his mouth.

“No..”

Face chalk-white, he pulls his phone from his pocket and hits the only number he has saved in his contacts.

The phone rings twice, three times, four…

“Come on, pick up, pick up–”

“Will?”

Hannibal sounds distanced. This is not good. Will frowns and hopes it’s audible

“Hannibal Dickhead Lecter, why am I suddenly craving a Big Mac?”

Crackling silence echoes between them.

“He had it in his car.”

Will rakes a hand through his hair. “And you ate it?!”

He can hear Hannibal shrugging at the end of the line. Like this is no big deal. Like this doesn’t change Will Graham’s entire fucking worldview forever.

“I’d always been curious,” Hannibal explains, “I only took one bite. The food was unwrapped.”

Will steps out the way of foot traffic and braces himself with one arm against a nearby wall. “I - God, I don’t even know what to say right now, Hannibal.”

“Will. You’re upset.” Hannibal says it with the even tone of someone who clearly does not understand why Will would have a reason to be upset.

“I’m not, I… it’s just.” Will sucks his lip between his teeth. “Did you… like it?”

“Oh goodness no,” Hannibal replies swiftly. “Absolutely terrible.”

“Then why would you - Oh my God.” It hits Will with sudden clarity and he smiles. “You miss me.”

“What?”

“You knew the quickest way to get me to call would be to eat the grossest, most abominable fast food you could think of.”

“That’s ridiculous, Will.”

“Yes it is. Yes, you are.”

“And if I did miss you?” Hannibal asks. “Would that be so terrible?”

Will leans against the warm brick and smiles slow and lazy. “Only if I didn’t miss you back.”

A cart across the street catches Will’s eye and he pushes off the wall with one foot.

“Hold on a second.”

On the other end of the line, Hannibal hears something in a blurry rapid-fire exchange of Spanish, a jangle of coins, and the crinkle of wax paper. Then suddenly there’s a burst of cinnamon sugar across his tongue.

“I godduss a churro,” Will says with his mouthful. Hannibal sighs at him, exasperated but fond.

“Sometimes your manners are atrocious.”

“Mm,” Will agrees, “but you love it when I suck sugar off my fingers.”

He does just that, and is rewarded with a throaty moan from Hannibal.

“Thass more like it,” Will says, pleased. “Now finish what you’re doing - quickly - so you can come home to me. No more burgers.”

Hannibal laughs. “Yes, my dear.”

“Good. Oh and darling?”

“Mmm?”

“Cook him well for me.”

“I always do.”

[wyrm-wolf]

Sleeping Beauty

Chahaha, another day for @thesilverqueenlady Hannibal Ever After calander. I was really excited about this one so for enjoy! Will doesn't mean to fall asleep whenever people are talking to him, he doesn't mean to fall asleep at all during the day. Most people would just pass it off as Will just being really tired, he has the look of a man who works to much, but when he does it to them again, and again they start getting ticked off and curious as to what his problem might be. The thing is, as a kid Will had always had the problem of falling asleep at random times of the day, and at night he would wake up too early. Narcolepsy. That's what the doctors had told him was the problem, and so his life went on. Each time he went to a new school it took a while before he had the teachers convinced that he was a narcoleptic, now as a grown man it's much harder to have it being passed off as a stable thing. As a kid he wanted to be a police men, unfortunately with his 'condition' he was unable to join the line of duty. So he went with the next best thing. Owning a bookstore. Which was the life for him, sure he was food with mechanics, but he's cut his fingers open too many times to count, and Will's always had a passion for books. So with a nice pocket of money, he opened a bookstore up, and so far so good people rather enjoy it. Although, there were times where he had to explain his problem to customers when they stayed too long, and caught him falling asleep on the job. And that's when he met, Hannibal. God what a charmer that man had been. Will never notices him before, being himself he tried not to stare at anyone in the eyes, being as eyes were distracting to him. But then he started to notice someone lingering from the crowd, a man who always came wearing the most expensive and flamboyant suits Will has ever seen, only to be reading in the classics section. And with enough courage, which took a week of practice along with two more days before he finally decided to take the chance, Will had walked over to the man and introduced himself. They hit it off quite well surprisingly, and Hannibal had even asked Will on a date. If you asked, Will would of said he didn't act all shy and blush while looking down at his feet, but that would be a lie. Because he did. "You...want to...what?" "A date. At my place, I can right down the time and address, I would love to have you come over and share a meal with you. You have caught my utmost interest, and I want to know more about you." Hannibal smiled, lifting Will's hand to his mouth for a kiss, when Will had nodded his head. "I can't wait to see you." Of course, Will was going to be nervous about this, it was his first time actually being civilized and talking to someone. Not to mention, probably the first time he has ever gone on a date. So forgetting the fact that he might fall asleep at dinner, Will had ticked the dogs in for the night, closed shop early, and dressed nightly for the evening. When he stood on the doorsteps to Hannibal's house, which mind you is massive and absolutely the most intimidating house Will has ever seen, and was having second thoughts as he was about to leave the roses he bought and leave. That is until a smiling, and charming, Hannibal had opened the door, brushing little to no dust off his apron, and letting Will inside. "If you don't mind, I do enjoy it when my dinner guest take there shoes off. So mud doesn't track around the house." Hannibal noted. "Yes, of course." Will answered, removing his shoes, setting them asides before taking a big whiff of whatever was cooking. "What's for dinner? Is smells...divine." "You compliment me too much. Tonight, we are having  some special cut meat being served with a side of sauteed vegetables, and desert." Hannibal answers vaguely. Will sits at the table, waiting for Hannibal to come back and serve the meal. He sips at his drink, a very fancy sounding wine he can't seem to pronounce, and when Hannibal arrives with the food, it's like Heaven. The taste mingle so well together, and added with the wine, oh what a flavor they make together. When they finish their meals, Hannibal starts making small talk. They joke, they laugh, and they banter a tiny bit. And then Hannibal is opening his mouth to ask Will something, and as always having the worst timing on the world, the world goes black. When he wakes back up he finds himself not leaning over a wooden table, but laid neatly in a warm bed. Not his bed, of course. No, this is certainly not his bed, with how soft the covers are and how jig and spacious it is, not to mention there's an actual color palette. "Hannibal?" At first he's met with silence, and then the soft padding sound of footsteps approach the door to the room. Hannibal looks calm and collected as always, but Will can see beneath the layer of calm that the man is very worried about Will. He rushes over to Will's side, checking for any injuries or if he's hurt. "Are you okay? You passed out during dinner, I was afraid there was something in there you were allergic too." Hannibal asked, running warm fingers through Will's hair. He smiles, leaning into the all but comforting touch. "I'm fine. I guess I just forgot to explain my condition. I have narcolepsy, it's where at times I randomly fall asleep." Will explained. "I can't really control it, and well...sorry I put a damper on our date. It shouldn't have gone this way." "On the contrary, this is far more interesting than how I perceived our date to go, dear Will. Please, tell me more." Hannibal smiles, sitting down next to Will when he scoots over on the bed. "Oh...well..." And that hits it off, Hannibal continues to visit Will at his work daily, while also bringing along something for Will to eat for lunch, and when the shop is closed, Will spends another afternoon wig Hannibal. It's not even a week before their both already daring, and a month later Hannibal pops the bubble. "Will you marry me?" Hannibal asks, kneeling down on one knee in the animal shelter Will often always visits during the weekends, small and big dogs sniffing around him, and butting their heads with him. "Yes." Will gasps, smiling when Hannibal stands to encircle his arms around Will, and lift him off the ground. He laughs at the man's excitement, and kisses Hannibal back. The dogs surrounding the woof, and wag their tails thinking they'll get a treat for being good. And like in every fairy tale, there is always the villain who tries to destroy the lovers and separate them. But in this case the villain is not but a person, and more of suspicion. Two days. Two days that Hannibal has been gone on a 'business' trip. When Will woke up today, late in the afternoon, he found that Hannibal had sent him a text saying he will be home later that day. So Will waits, and waits. The dogs, seven to be exact, mill around their master, tongues lolling out of their mouths when Will leans down and pets them once in a while. It's about late at night when the door opens up, and Will, surprisingly is wide awake waiting for his husband, of two years, in the kitchen. "Will...your awake." Hannibal says, surprised written all over his face. Will's already frowning frown deepens. "Hannibal, we need to talk. I know I'm not the nicest husband, I get grumpy in the morning, and never clean up after myself. And there were those times when I fell asleep during our...intimate times together. But...damnit! What I'm trying to get at is...are you cheating on me?" CLUNK Hannibal drops his suit jacket, suitcase, and everything else he's holding in his arms. His mouth is wife open, and he looks perplexed like Will just straight out slapped him. For a man who has absolute control over his everyday life, he looks lost. He takes only one step forward before he's falling to his knees, rubbing soothing circles against Will's thighs, while murmuring something in Lithuanian. "English, Hannibal." Will snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. "Will, my sweet lovely Will, light of my love, love of my light, I would be but a fool to ever cross you behind your back. I would never be as so low to cheat on you. Please do forgive me for being so secret, I had wish to not get you involved with my work, it can be very dangerous." "Hannibal you work as a psychiatrist. How dangerous could that be?" "No, Will that is just a disguise. I...come I'll show you." Hannibal stands up straight, taking Will's hand, and moving them to the study room. Or what Will calls, their personal library. For the room is so large and vast, will bookcases that reach as high as the ceiling, and has two stories. Hannibal moves him to a secluded section of books, and pushes two aside showing a red button, and when he presses it the bookshelves move away to show a hidden room. "How many rooms do we have in this house!?" Will gasp, seeing as guns and other weapons litter the wall, along with maps and other papers with red circles all over them. Hannibal motions to a screen at the end of the room, which lights up and shows coordinates in Vinci, France. Along with a picture of a few men with large X's over them. "I get it...your a hitmen? Right?" "No, dear Will, but close. I am an agent for an underground organization where we get rid of men who are out to harm the would. Or on a nice way to put it, a spy." Hannibal explains, shyly looking away from Will's gaze as his lover takes everything in all at once. "Oh....so is that why you weren't mad at me when I fell asleep on our second anniversary? Were you killing people! Hanni, that's murder, shat of you had gotten caught!" Will stutters, hands flapping around as his mind jumps to an immediate train of bad thoughts. Hannibal grasp both of Will's hands tightly, but not hard enough to bruise, kisses both of the knuckles and then kisses Will's forehead. " Will I promise you, the men I'm killing deserve it. They are terrible people who kill the innocent, are drug lords, and do human trafficking." Hannibal explains, rubbing soothing circles to into Will's back. "And I wouldn't be such a fool as to get caught in the act, I've been doing this for years, love. Before I met you, and fell endlessly in love." Will makes an exaggerated gagging noise when Hannibal kisses his curls, nuzzling his nose into them. Hannibal chuckles, and places a hand on Will's cheek, lifting his face up to kiss him. "How about I make it up to you, and take the whole family on a trip to a nice beach resort. I know you've been wanting to go somewhere warm." Hannibal muses. "Fine. As long as you, and I, do not get caught up into some kidnapping scheme then we can go." "Will, I would never let you get kidnapped." " Liar." Will hissed, as he was currently tied to a chair with a blindfold on. He shifted once more testing the bindings on him and, yep there was no way he was going to get out of this one, he groaned leaning back into the chair. Awaiting his captors arrival Will rethinks how his day went. When the sun had risen Will had waken to a warm naked body next to his own, dozing around in Hannibal's warms.  His husband had began kissing trails up Will's neck, only to be stopped by both of their growling stomach's. Breakfast was a good warm plate of eggs, ham, toast, and some other things Will hadn't bothered to remember as he wolfed down the food. Once they were dressed Hannibal and Will had taken the digs down to the beach, where they played a long game of fetch and tag. Hannibal had even forgone his cleanliness to wrestle with some of the bigger dog's, who wouldn't give the stick back to him. And then when dinner rolled around, they sat in a restaurant not too far away, awaiting their meal. Hannibal had only stepped out for a second to answer a phone call, and Will had taken one sip of his wine before suddenly falling asleep. Now he sat, cold and miserable tied to a chair, waiting to either be saved or to die. He hoped Hannibal would come soon. Suddenly, there was a sound, at first there was yelling and then gun's were being fired. Will yelped as his chair fell over from trying to move out of the line of fire. More yells and shots fired, and then silence. "My dear sleeping beauty, you look so ravaging in those bindings." Hannibal growls playfully into Will's ear, as he leans over him. Will shudders beneath Hannibal's body, he can smell the blood and gun powder on him, and he is so NOT ready to get hard in a place like this. "Hannibal we cab discuss your strange kinks in bed later, but for right now you are going to untie me, and we are going back home. Immediately." Will growls, while Hannibal takes the blindfold off, and cuts the ropes on his wrist. Will rubs at the redness, and gives Hannibal a nice slap to the check when he leans down for a kiss. "I probably deserved that." "Uh-huh. Now, carry me back to the house like the shining knight in armour you are, and let's get drunk so much we fall asleep on the couch." "As you wish, my sleeping beauty." Hannibal leans down, leftwing Will up bridal style with such ease, it's a wonder how much the man does just to stay fit. And walks out of the dark building into the night with his lover. Next is the Little Mermaid, which has a lot of funny chase scenes :)