#bottomhannibalday

[idontfindyouthatinteresting]

Like, this is just, amazing!

[existingcharactersdiehorribly]

I don’t know how to gauge who I am any more. 

Inspired by @crossroadscastiel‘s fic here 

[shiphitsthefan]

Adamantine and Unyielding [alpha Will/omega Hannibal; underage; explicit]

The boy laughs, and pulls another strip of meat from a bag at his side. He wraps it around a cloth ball, then throws it as far as he can into the woods, the Cerberus bounding after it.

A human playing fetch with the great dog. Curious, indeed.

“He likes you,” Will says, calling out from the trees. The boy doesn’t startle, merely turns his head, and oh, how Will wants. High cheekbones; a prominent jaw; eyes that rival Midas' gold. “What is your name, boy?”

“Perhaps I am Faust,” he replies, a small smile playing across his face, sharp fangs within his mouth. “Assuming you are Mephistopheles, that is.”

Will has acted as Hades for hundreds of years, but never once has he claimed a Persephone of his own. Hannibal, however, may prove to be a fruit impossible not to taste.

for @hannigram-a-b-o-library‘s #Summertime Slick and @cannibalcuisine / @feyestwords’s #BottomHannibalDay

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Finally! Finally they were in bed. And Will was nervous but all damn heart eyes, he couldn’t even help it. Sure they should be sleeping, but… maybe he should wake Hannibal with a kiss? They were battered and broken from the fall but when Hannibal moaned in his sleep “mmmm…. Will… fuck me…” Will wanted nothing more than to bury himself over and over in Hannibal’s ass until there could be no doubt exactly what the man did to him. And how he would fall over a cliff every day with him if he had to (though preferably not).

[nalyra-dreaming]

My entry for #BottomHannibalDay

*fg*

Anyway, here is a little slice of life, more PWP with an itsy bitsy teeny weeny bit of story around it, featuring yours only, a boring exhibition visit, some teasing and use of something that’s... oh well.^^

________________

He’s watching me watching him, tying the paisley tie with slow, deliberate movements, fingers gliding. He does it on purpose of course, this show in front of our bedroom mirror, knowing I find it riveting.

It’s not the cloth of course, nor even the act of hiding what’s underneath.

It’s the deliberate teasing of my impulse to strangle the living daylights out of him. Often.

He knows about my fantasies by now, knows how I … dreamed about killing him once upon a time.

With my hands.

....

Read the whole story here

(Using the official gif because it’s perfect!)

@feyestwords

@cannibalcuisine

Thank you for this!

[hannibalsbattlebot]

The Perfect Host

(For the Bottom Hannibal event @feyestwords @cannibalcuisine )

Will wondered if it was too soon to wear the salmon colored button-down again.

He tried to remember. He had worn it recently. Maybe two dinners ago? It was his favorite fall-back because it was one of the few things he owned that was comfortable and looked nice on him. A welcome pop of color in his otherwise drab wardrobe.

He decided it was not too soon and put it on as he got ready for another dinner with Hannibal Lecter.

Will’s careful grooming was part offense, part defense. When he was done donning his armor, he felt more prepared to meet whatever was waiting for him behind those impressive oak doors. He almost convinced himself this was a character he was slipping into.

Almost.

He arrived on time, a bottle of wine in his hands. As had become his custom, he walked right in without bothering to knock.

The lights inside Hannibal’s house were dimmer than usual, which was saying something. The lights in the kitchen–where Will would usually find Hannibal putting the finishing touches on dinner in his immaculate white apron–were off entirely.

“Hello?” Will called. He was sure he didn’t have the wrong date or time. He started to feel the creeping beginnings of unease as he walked into the dining room, which was lit with only guttering candles.

There was a spread waiting for him on the table.

Will felt his heart lurch. It was a tableaux to be sure. The candles were not in the center of the table but at the head of the table, at the corners farthest away from the doorway. Instead of a smooth cloth, there was a mass of fabric bunched and swathed, nearly dynamic in its arrangement with the candlelight flickering off of it.

In the center of this fabric nest was the body of Hannibal Lecter, wearing nothing but discreetly draped fabric.

Will rushed over to the side of the table to get a better look at the still form. Already his internal train of thought split down two tracks: one panicked, the other observing. He looked for blood, for injuries, his eyes darting madly over exposed skin.

“Talk to me,” he said to scene before him. “Show me your design.”

Hannibal’s eyes opened languidly.

“Will.”

Will recoiled from the table, a hand pressed to the front of his salmon shirt above him pounding heart.

“Fuck, Hannibal. I thought you were dead!” His relief gave way to confusion, then to clarity. This was still a tableaux, a Chesapeake Ripper tableaux. It took all his self-control not to punch the man stretched out on the tabletop. Instead he propped both hands on the edge of the table and hung his head down. “You scared the shit out of me.” He took a breath to regain his composure and pulled his head back up. He pulled out a dining room chair and sat down, crossing his legs as if there was nothing unusual about any of this. “An effective bit of theater, but to what end?”

Hannibal still hadn’t moved.

“What do you think?” Hannibal asked. “What is my design?”

Will plucked at a fold of the fabric with his fingers. The movement made the fabric start to slip, so he stopped.

“You wanted to get my attention,” Will said and then begrudgingly added. “You certainly did that.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“If you wanted to see if I would be alarmed to think harm had come to you, I think we’ve already established that.”

There was a pause that let Will know he was on the wrong track.

“Do you remember when we first were getting acquainted, I wanted you to attend my dinner parties?”

“Yes,” he said. “I wasn’t very good company then.”

“That was your perception of yourself,” Hannibal gently corrected. “I want to entertain you. I want the opportunity to be the perfect host.”

“Is this how you usually entertain?”

“No.”

Hannibal sat up on his elbow, the cream and black silky fabric still providing the thinnest veil of modesty. Will couldn’t help letting his eyes be lead down the line of his body and then back up.

“I prepared for you a feast.”

The statement was outrageous and laughable. Honestly, Will should have laughed at the whole dramatic gesture from the beginning. This had to be a joke. But the “feast” quickly wormed its way into Will’s mind, hit on some primal hunger. Suddenly, without his concious will to do so,  he was taking it all very seriously.

“Don’t you think–” Will started, althought his mouth had gone dry and he had to start again. “Don’t you think this is overly dramatic.”

“Dramatic, yes. Why not?” Hannibal asked. “We deal in dramatic gestures, you and I, as some might exchange pleasantries in passing.”

At a loss, Will said “Hannibal, what do you want me to do here?”

Hannibal’s eyes showed a mild fleeting disappointment.

“I am trying to be accommodating. What do you want? Should I clear the table, go to the kitchen, prepare the meal and forget this happened? As my guest, I want you to be comfortable.”

Will reached out and lightly touched the fold of fabric closest to him, and lightly tugged it.

“As my host, you should know that trying to climb up on this polished table would be very uncomfortable for me.”

In a swirl of ivory and black silk, Hannibal lead the way to his bedroom. It too was lit by candles and there was a bucket of champagne on ice. Will would have been annoyed at his predictability, if he wasn’t sure that every room in the house was similarly set up. It wasn’t that Will was predictable, it was that Hannibal was extraordinarily, painstakingly prepared for any contingency.

Hannibal nodded towards the two champagne flutes on a tray nearby.

“Would you pour?”

“Of course.”

Hannibal continued walking across the room. As he walked the cloth started to fall away from him like flower petals pulling away from the bud. At the other end of the room, he opened a wardrobe, which hid him from sight, just as the last fold of fabric hit the floor.

“Should I dress?” he asked.

“Its your house,” Will said, concentrating on wiggling the cork out of the bottle without shooting it across the room, where it would probably break a priceless knick knack, or maybe the…large mirror angled to reflect Hannibal’s bed. Why did he have a mirror…Will started to ask himself the question, but almost simultaneously realized the answer.

“It’s your party,” Hannibal responded.

“Whatever is fine,” Will said and he really meant it. He poured two glasses of champagne and drank one right away.

Hannibal shut the wardrobe door and walked over to where Will stood. Except for stocking feet, he was fully dressed ina blue plaid suit with all the trimmings. The silky cloth he had been wrapped in was folded over his arm. With the grace of dancer, he swirled the fabric out over the bed. They both watched as it settled.

Will handed him a glass and drank his second glass down. Hannibal took a savoring sip of his.

“I’m not looking for liquid courage, I’m just thirsty,” Will said and then wished he hadn’t.

He didn’t know why, but he was more, not less, aroused with Hannibal now fully clothed. “This is strange,” he said. “Naked in the dining room, fully clothed in the bedroom.”

“I thought that me wearing something you were accustomed seeing me in would put you at ease.”

Will sighed and put down his empty glass.

“I don’t think I’ll be at ease, at any time, ever, until we settle this: what are we to each other?”

Hannibal set down his own glass and looked at Will with interest.

Encouraged, Will went on. “You told Alana that as long as we know what we are to each other that would be enough. The only problem is, we haven’t settled that. Not really. You tried to set me at ease by laying yourself out on the dining room table for me. A feast, you said.”

“Isn’t that what we are to each other?” Hannibal asked. “We’ve already been consuming each other. I thought it might be beneficial to force the issue with a visual.”

“A tableaux,” Will said. “With you as a victim.”

“As your victim.”

Will raised a hand and gently brushed Hannibal’s cheek.

“Are you?”

“I have been and will continue to be.”

Hannibal moved towards Will just slightly, a barely perceptible statement of intention. Will understood and reciprocated, meeting Hannibal’s lips with his. After a few small teasing kisses Will grazed Hannibal’s lip with his teeth. This was what they were here for: bites and rough hands. Will put his hand up to Hannibal’s throat and with a surge of satisfaction in the act, pulled the knot out of his tie.

This was the signal Hannibal was looking for. His kisses became rough and sloppy: his lips leaving Will’s to blaze a trail across his jaw and then his neck. Will, his head back to accommodate the lips and teeth on his throat, groped blindly, unable to decide whether he wanted to start undoing his own shirt or Hannibal’s first. Hannibal tried to help him. Anything to get the clothes off fast, but their hands got in each other’s way. Will grunted with impatience as he shoved Hannibal’s hands away from his belt buckle. He could do it faster.

Will took a moment to pass his hands over the smooth fabric of Hannibal’s underpants. The only thing separating him from the cock he could already feel hot and ready. Hannibal stripped Will’s boxers from him with the same fluid movement as he did anything, by scooping his hands under the waistband, then running his hands around Will’s waist and down to his ass.

Will kicked the rest of his pants off and half pushed and pulled Hannibal onto the bed. They sank down into it. The slippery fabric under them was incredibly soft and Will felt he was being softly cradled on three sides, with the fourth side above him being the pliant flesh of an aroused and mouthy cannibal.

Hannibal was, there was really no other word, petting Will, smoothing down his hair and touching his face, mouth following greedily after the trails his fingers had made.

Savoring.

Will’s hands drifted lower, down Hannibal’s belly, skirting his cock for now. He had to lean, his face now buried in Hannibal’s shoulder as his hand briefly cupped his balls, as if testing their heft and slid behind them. His fingers stopped only they encountered the metal disk of the butt plug seated securely in the doctor’s hole.

“Hannibal?” he asked.

Hannibal stopped raising suck marks on Will’s collarbone for a moment to respond. “I’m accommodating. A good host anticipates.”

Hannibal, also correctly anticipating Will’s next desire, laid next to him on the bed, knees flexed.

Will took a moment to look at the plain steel disk, which was all he could see at the moment.

He grasped it. He did not need to ask. It was the mint on the pillow, the thoughtful courtesy, the bed turned down in anticipation of his comfort. In anticipation of his body sinking into it.

At the plug’s first movement, Hannibal made a small noise tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Will eased it out slowly, both out of concern for Hannibal and for the enjoyment of prolonging it. Hannibal breathed a small “ah” when it was fully out of him.

“Stainless steel? No streamers? No semi-precious jewels?’ Will teased.

“It was my nod to the practical simplicity that you favor.”

“Let me make sure there’s nothing else,” He slid his finger in the slick hole, drawing a pleasing grunt from the other man when he added a second finger that was easily taken.

As he lined up his cock with the waiting hole, his hand almost trembled. What he wanted and wanted now, was to slip into Hannibal Lecter’s hot darkness.

Once he slid in, the trembling stopped. All hesitation was gone. He worked himself in and out, deeper and deeper until Hannibal was taking the full length of him with each stroke. He leaned down and Hannibal rose as much as he could to meet him. Will grabbed the back of his neck and brought him close so he could taste the skin of his throat, salty and blood hot.

“My feast.” He nearly growled.

Hannibal pulled him closer as Will chased his own rhythm. Hannibal was as he had promised: absolutely inviting, as if they each had been made to fit together, just another way in which they perfectly complimented each other. Will came with his hands fisted in Hannibal’s hair.

In his passion he had held too  tightly he realized, as he opened his tension-stiffened fingers and felt the detached strands of hair between them.

Will slipped out of Hannibal only when he was too soft to stay. He sat back and looked at Hannibal. His eyes were glazed but his cock still stood up, leaking and untouched. Will reached out for it and Hannibal hissed an intake of breath when skin touched skin. Will bowed his head, blocking Hannibal’s view, and then licked a stripe on the underside of his cock, from root to tip, folding his mouth over the tip for a moment.

“Will,” Hannibal breathed. “You don’t-”

Will cut him short by taking him into his mouth, as far down as he could, covering the rest of his length with a firm grip. He didn’t think he could take all of it, but he did his best, releasing him to lick around the base, then up again to cover the tip.

“Will” he said again.

Will spread a firm hand on Hannibal’s chest, holding him down on the bed, if only symbolically.

“My. Feast.”

He claimed Hannibal’s mouth again, bringing him to orgasm with his hand and kissing him through it, even when his release meant he could only pant uselessly into Will’s mouth.

Will gathered Hannibal close.He was limp in his arms. He tucked Hannibal’s head under his chin.

“Did you anticipate that?” he asked.

“It wasn’t necessary, Will,” he said breathlessly. “Appreciated, but not necessary.”

Will smiled and nestled that smile into the head resting on his chest.

“You of all people should know the rules of being the guest of a perfect host,” Will said. “You always give a token of appreciation back to the host. I’m just being polite.”

Will kissed the top of his head.

“I like your idea of courtesy,” Hannibal said, sleepily.

[idontfindyouthatinteresting]

hehe, some stupid badge designs

[beatricenius]

Summary “Do you get off on that? The idea of having a dangerous boyfriend. Some crazy jealous guy ready to pick a fight with any man who dares so much as look at you.” “You make it sound as if we were speaking in the abstract,” Hannibal strained into the touch. “Jealousy is near inevitable in the face of a perceived threat. What if he touched me, Will? If he saw me like this?” Will finds himself emphasizing with the misogynistic killer behind the paper doll murders. Hannibal is curious how far he can push him. Words: 7411, Chapters: 1/1, Part 2 of the Paper Doll series. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: M/M Fandom: Hannibal (TV) Relationship: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter Additional Tags: Alternate Season/Series 01, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Feminization, Possessive Will, Jealousy, Rimming, Anal Sex, Bottom Hannibal, Top Will

I was informed today is #BottomHannibalDay, which is definitely an event I’d like to support! So I decided to finish this sequel thing I’ve been working on. Thanks @feyestwords and @cannibalcuisine for initiating this, it’s such a fun and creative way to combat the homophobic discourse occasionally surrounding Hannibal as a character.

[tiggymalvern]

A snippet for #BottomHannibalDay

I don’t have a specific fic for BottomHannibalDay, because I was far too occupied writing my magnum opus, but I heartily support the concept :-) So have an extract from a chapter I published yesterday, and thank you to @feyestwords and @cannibalcuisine for the idea!

“You were entirely perfect today, Will, and wholly of your own volition, planning and enacting all of your own desires.” Hannibal leans closer, pressing his lips briefly to Will’s cheek, and his voice is a whisper barely heard above the spray of the water. “You are everything I ever dared to believe you might become.”

Hannibal might be the most genuine person Will can imagine – once he’s decided to be honest he holds nothing back. Will withdraws just enough to fix their eyes together, staring into expansive twin brown depths either side of a blurry nose. “You want what you see,” he teases.

“I always want anything of exceptional beauty,” Hannibal agrees. He sinks down onto his knees, reaching for Will’s cock, and Will pushes him back, and tugs at his chin until their eyes meet. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he tells him.

Hannibal tilts his head, blinking slow and lazy. “Make it worth my while,” he says.

Will grins at him, with toothy intent. “Don’t I always?”

“I concede you apply admirable effort,” Hannibal says, and Will grips him at his bicep and pulls him to his feet and out of the shower. He tows him from the bathroom and backs him down onto the bed, still dripping with hair plastered across his forehead.

Will crawls over him, aligning their bodies and settling his weight, the hair on Hannibal’s chest brushing against his nipples, their cocks side by side in the damp heat between them. Will flexes his hips, once, twice, slowly, enough to feel the friction as they rub and press against one another. Sometimes he likes to come this way; it reminds him of that first afternoon, when they were both so desperate for this, clinging to one another too completely both physically and mentally to think of anything beyond it.

Nostalgia isn’t his primary motivator right now.

He sits half way upright, taking both of Hannibal’s wrists and pressing them to the pillows, stretched above his head. Hannibal lies boneless and smiling, his cock the only part of him hard, and he lets Will do exactly what he likes. “Does it feel good, to hold me down, to control me?”

Will shakes his head, because it does, he’s feeling fantastic in more ways right now than he can begin to count, but that’s not why. “You feel good. Always.” With Hannibal, he can take control or give it over into his hands, and there’s no distinction, only the flow of mood and moments back and forth between them. He’s still holding Hannibal’s wrists, and he leans in to suck on the lobe of one ear. Hannibal turns his head to make it easier, and Will drags the sharp edge of his incisors over the soft skin instead. “Does it feel good to let me?”

“I’ve been encouraging you to react by instinct today, to respond to your nature,” Hannibal says. “This is what you’re feeling now, and I’m amply disposed to accommodate you.”

Will grins down at him, because he wasn’t expecting an open admission, and he doesn’t need one. “I think I can make you be very accommodating.”

Hannibal stares up at Will, serious and unhesitating. “Yes, you can,” he says, and everything below Will’s diaphragm flips and drops away into fire.

Hannibal suggested a few days ago that Will would let him do anything, and Will immediately denied it. The truth is more complicated than that. The list of things Will wouldn’t let Hannibal do is significant, but the list of things he wouldn’t forgive Hannibal for if he did them anyway barely exists at all.

With Hannibal, it’s different. He looks up at Will now in unending devotion, waiting, and he really would let Will do literally anything, because Will understands the representation of himself in Hannibal’s head.

When Hannibal met Will Graham in Jack’s office, he saw a tiger in a cage, and he immediately wanted to set it free. If that tiger had grown institutionalised, if it preferred to stay in society’s confinement where it was warm and well fed, then that was all the more reason to drag it out to see the wild by force and show it what a predator should be. And if the tiger turned around and bit off Hannibal’s arm after he yanked it into the world of tooth and claw, well, that’s what tigers do.

To place new restrictions on the magnificent creature he unleashed would be as blasphemous as the original caging, so Hannibal sets no limits on Will’s actions, none, and the power in that knowledge is exhilarating, terrifying, and arousing to the point of derangement.

“Then I’ll make you,” Will tells him, and he shifts both of Hannibal’s wrists into his left hand, the other reaching for one of the many pillows arranged like a magazine photo at the head of the bed. His grip is purely symbolic – Hannibal could certainly break free if he wanted to, but he doesn’t and he won’t, and they both enjoy the game.

He pushes the pillow beneath Hannibal’s hips, his lover lifting immediately to help him, and then he takes the lubricant from the nightstand, popping the cap one-handed.

He’s not bothering with foreplay – they’ve been soaping each other’s bodies in the shower for almost half an hour, and that was more than enough to make Will eager. It will be enough for Hannibal, as the flushed state of his erection testifies.

He maintains his hold on Hannibal’s arms, using his teeth to gently press on the tube, squeezing the contents over the fingers of his free hand. He flicks his head to let the tube drop to the bed beside them, and rubs his slippery fingertips around Hannibal’s entrance before pushing them inside.

Hannibal exhales long and slow, flexing his spine, his eyes locked with Will’s as he twists on his fingers.

Will raises his eyebrows at him, but he says and does nothing more. If Hannibal wants to put all the work in, Will sees no reason not to let him.

Apparently Hannibal does, because it’s not long before he comments, “I thought you had plans to ‘make me’. I’m noting very little indication of it.”

“Right now, it seems I’m making you squirm,” Will says with a sharp edge of amusement, but he bunches his fingers together and presses them deeper, and Hannibal’s eyes blink slow and his mouth opens in a circle of softened lips. He’s stunning, stretched out taut all through his arms and torso, the lines of his muscles pulled into stark definition, his cock hard and glistening for Will, his feet pushing down to lift his hips for him, and Will wants more now than the game.

He releases Hannibal’s wrists when he grabs for the lube and smears it at the head of his own cock, but Hannibal leaves his hands there among the pillows anyway. He’s never unaware of how he looks, clothed or naked, and Will sees the glint of it in his eyes while he waits and watches.

Will’s out of patience, and he’s done with waiting.

He lifts Hannibal’s legs over his arms and he presses in, a single smooth, sliding push, his eyes closing and his lips parting as the tight heat spreads to wrap around the whole length of his cock. There’s very little resistance, Hannibal relaxing for him, deliberately, consciously, wanting Will there, and it’s only at the end that there’s the barrier of the second ring of muscle. Will maintains the pressure until that opens too, and he slips in the final inch.

It’s amazing every time, the physicality of this, of nudging his way into someone else’s body, having them stretch and give for him, just enough to let him be there, enough to cling around him when he stays. Will holds himself all the way in, letting himself fully feel it in the surrounding blackness behind his eyelids, the intimacy of so much skin and muscle and damp heat. And when he opens his eyes, there’s Hannibal, and a whole other level of connection forged in their gaze, love and need and total understanding, and Will withdraws himself half way before pushing back in slowly to experience it all again, and again.

Hannibal’s legs tighten at Will’s shoulders, his ankles hooking round to emphasise the pressure. “Don’t hold anything back, Will. Whatever you feel, whatever you might need, you should embrace it and release it all.”

Will completes his stroke, measured and steady all the way in to the exquisite, gripping warmth of Hannibal, and then he pauses to glare down at him. “Can you not turn sex into a therapy session?”

Hannibal widens his eyes with the faintest hint of a smile, imperious and entirely unapologetic. “I wouldn’t, if I were sufficiently distracted.”

Which is an appallingly obvious way of goading Will into doing exactly what he just told him to do. Hannibal can be so goddamn annoying. He’s not even pretending to be subtle. Will’s half tempted to fuck him excruciatingly slowly and drag it out forever just to make a point, but that’s not really what he wants to do, not this time. “Then let me distract you.” He dips and turns his head, pressing his lips to the soft, haired skin inside Hannibal’s calf, and then he nips down with his teeth, hard enough to cause redness and bruising. Hannibal inhales sharply, his muscles clenching down around Will’s cock in a way that’s absolutely perfect. And Will knows how to set about making him do it again.

Will’s aware Hannibal wasn’t new to being fucked before this relationship – he’s endlessly curious and a hedonist, he’s probably tried a dozen things sexually that Will wouldn’t even consider. But he’s certain that with Will is the first time Hannibal’s let himself be fucked without some ulterior controlling motive, indulging the sheer enjoyment of it because he wants it.

Will wonders if Hannibal’s ever been able to truly lose himself in sex, or if he’s always been focussed on securing the mask, clinically assessing what his partner might be seeing in him. Whatever his history might be, Will takes enormous delight in fucking Hannibal out of his head, out of his guileful thoughts and into pure, visceral lust, and it delights him more because it’s so damn hard to do it.

Hannibal rarely lets go completely, and never easily.

Will sets a pace he knows he can sustain, moderate and steady with a little extra push on the stroke in. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think,” he tells him, and then he leans in close by his ear to clarify. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think about anything but me.”

“That’s a considerably easier goal.” Hannibal’s trying for casual, but he has to snatch an inhale half way through the sentence, and his eyelids twitch every time Will presses deep. Then his gaze fixes on Will and he removes one of his hands from the pillow to settle on Will’s bicep, and he says open and honest, “I find such is my state of mind with surprising frequency.”

Will’s own breath hitches then, as it does whenever Hannibal makes these transparent declarations of his love. And he knows the feeling in himself, when they’re twined together and everything’s Hannibal, his skin, his lips, his eyes, his intensity and focus, and it’s almost surprising that they have a life outside of a bed. He has a part of himself buried within this man, his lover, his love, and not just in the current, literal sense, because they’ve been dug deep into one another for years, and there were never any barriers that could stop it.

Will shoves into him, a little faster this time, a little harder, and it quivers through both of them. His head is alive with desire, his own lust tangled together with the black of Hannibal’s pupils and the arch of his spine, and he pauses long enough to drag his incisors over Hannibal’s forearm, leaving brief indents that glisten damply as they fade. Hannibal jumps beneath him, a whole body twitch that Will feels everywhere, but especially round his cock, and Will fucks into him again, Hannibal’s eyes exquisitely wide, his focus starting to scatter. Will sets his mouth to that same patch of sensitised skin, this time gripping flesh, seizing and tightening, and Hannibal stiffens beneath him, his breath breaking; Will clenches firmer, then pulls gently back, the skin scraping slow over the edges of his teeth, and Hannibal shudders and writhes everywhere except where Will’s holding him, his arm absolutely still and his fingers clamped into Will’s shoulder.

Hannibal isn’t the only one left with bruises when Will bites.

This is the one part of their love-making that isn’t reciprocal. Hannibal licks and kisses and sucks on every inch of Will’s skin, and as far inside him as he can get his tongue, but there’s never any hint of teeth.

It’s not Will’s kink, but he wouldn’t be averse to trying it, and honestly he’s not found anything yet that Hannibal can’t make him turned on enough to enjoy, but Hannibal doesn’t go there, and Will understands why. Because Will loves enticing and pushing Hannibal beyond his own control, and if Hannibal started using teeth, he couldn’t be entirely sure each time where he’d stop.

Will laps and sucks thoroughly over the welt he’s left, feeling Hannibal relax and soften against and around him, and when he pulls back from his skin, Hannibal’s eyes have fallen closed into the sensation. Will smiles and resumes fucking him, measured and methodical, working Hannibal up towards his edge again, watching his breathing deepen and quicken, adding teeth for a brief surge of intensity, then stopping everything but gentle contact to ease him back away again before he gets too close.

It’s a cycle Will sometimes wants to draw out forever, seeing and feeling Hannibal responding to him so easily, Hannibal utterly unguarded and letting Will control his pleasure, letting himself be tuned and played like his own instruments. But Will’s entirely human, and his cock has limits independent of Will’s intentions, and eventually he has to let it all go, and just fuck Hannibal and not stop. Hannibal shivers beneath him, and Will pushes faster, and Hannibal says, “Yes, like that,” huffed and clipped, bringing his other hand down from the pillow and applying it to his own erection. Will fucks him, and sees the heaving of his chest and the arch of his throat; he feels the rise of Hannibal’s orgasm hot in his own head, and he scratches his nails from Hannibal’s collarbone sharp along the length of his sternum, and Hannibal gasps out a short, inarticulate noise as he comes.

Hannibal’s fingers grip into the bruises he’s already left in Will’s shoulder, and his muscles squeeze around Will’s cock, and Will’s still fucking him, still fucking him and wanting him like he’s never wanted anything, panting with how much he needs it, until finally he crashes through into his own orgasm, shaking and pulsing and all the way inside Hannibal.

And when it finishes, he’s there, still with Hannibal, and he wants to kiss him, so he does, and it’s soft and slow and beautiful how their lips move and their noses brush. They stay that way until Will’s cock slips loose, and then he pushes off and flops to lie alongside Hannibal, sprawled and wholly content. Hannibal extracts the damp pillow from beneath him and discards it from the bed, rolling onto his side to face Will.

Hannibal looks at him like he’s the only person who has genuine worth in this entire world, and it’s an intrinsic truth, because as far as Hannibal’s concerned, he is. It’s intoxicating, and Will’s fully aware it’s not a healthy mindset to let himself get drawn into, but the base reality is that nobody will ever love him, desire him, revere him the way that Hannibal does. The two of them are bound in a unique appreciation of the other that society can’t ever understand, and sex is one of the times it’s laid bare between them, exposed blatant and raw.

Will’s twenty minutes out of the shower and he’s already layered in sweat again, his cock sticky with lube and come, and he doesn’t care about any of that; he’s draped beside Hannibal, feeling the touch of him and the movement as he breathes. “I think you wore me out,” he says, smiling gently into his skin.

“Then rest.” The affection carries in Hannibal’s voice too, and Will’s head settles between the pillow and his lover’s shoulder, and Hannibal’s not moving, not leaving the bed to clean the residue from himself or the sheets, he’s staying with Will.

[scumpatrol]

i can’t believe it’s #bottomHannibalDay

[hannibal-abo]

whenever, however, wherever

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3gUggPa

by TheSilverQueen

Will is the vampire lord and master, and therefore is entitled to a human sacrifice to sate his thirst whenever he desires. His favorite method of drinking is to edge his human pets until just on the cusp of orgasm and then enjoy their delicious, flavorful, hormone-drenched blood before doing it all over again. It's certainly not his fault if some of them break under the pressure; humans are so fragile, after all. It's why they lost the war, and why they owe Will a sacrifice whenever he comes calling.

This time, Verger Village offers Will a freshly-caught selkie to play with, and Will is more than happy to accept. The selkie refuses to acknowledge or speak to Will, but Will doesn't mind - the selkie doesn't need to speak in order for Will to introduce it to its brand new life as Will's pet.

Words: 28566, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Hannibal (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Categories: M/M

Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom, Margot Verger, Mason Verger

Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Additional Tags: #BottomHannibalDay, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Vampire Will Graham, Selkie Hannibal Lecter, Dark Will Graham, Dubious Consent, Vampire Bites, Blood Drinking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Edging, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hannibal Chained Up, Underwater Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Bondage, Overstimulation, Sub Hannibal Lecter, Don't copy to another site

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3gUggPa

[jadegreenworks]

Finally

@cannibalcuisine​, @feyestwords​ for #BottomHannibalDay

 #BottomHannibal shortfic! (Header removed because Tumblr Purity)

He thought Will might be rough with him, quietly furious as he was, still and silent and staring at the corpse of Randall Tier on Hannibal’s dining room table, as if some other Will had placed it there and left this one to deal with the fallout.

He thought Will might turn the rest of that aggressive anger on him, was well prepared to accept it as his due, all things considered.

But he wasn’t, he didn’t. He followed Hannibal upstairs with that dazed expression slowly bleeding off of his face to reveal something pulsing and raw, like a heart beneath a parted ribcage, vulnerable without its shell of bone.

He stared at Hannibal unblinking as his bandaged knuckles were kissed, reverent, worshipful, the murmured words mere nonsense, the shining hymn of a believer finally seeing the vision he’d ached for.

Hannibal had been prepared for many things, but not for Will’s hand to flex, his fingers opening, turning to cup his jaw, gentle, surprising.

“Beautiful boy,” Hannibal breathed, the impassive stare finally fracturing. There was pride in those blue eyes, and desire, confusion, frustration, and something primal that had the flavor and scent of yearning.

He needed no words of encouragement past that. He held still and watched Hannibal shed his clothes, preparing for any eventuality. Will was as likely to kill him now in his state as he was to devour him.

But he didn’t. He watched, desire and surprise flaring in his features as Hannibal came to him, nude as a grape. He neither encouraged nor discouraged Hannibal’s hands on him, stripping him down to his skin so that he stood like a pale marble statue of Eros there before his bed.

“Whatever you want, Will,” Hannibal said, earnest and eager to pay him tribute. He backed towards his bed and Will moved with him, supple limbs and surprising muscle, his intensity sharpening with a new goal in mind.

Hannibal expected he would take his chance now to be cruel.

But he wasn’t. Will came to his bed with passion of a desperate, almost frantic kind, as if he had been too long without being touched, as if there was something lurking in that beautiful mind of his that drove him to excess. He devoured Hannibal, feasted on him, sharp teeth and sucking lips and teasing tongue, clever fingers and intuitive understanding of where to touch, what made him breathless.

They ruined his bed, and Hannibal didn’t care. Will covered him in bites and kisses, and Hannibal didn’t mind. He offered himself up and Will accepted. Hannibal waited for that violence to resurface, punishment for his manipulations.

But it didn’t.

Will spread over him in a blanket of firm flesh and pulsing breath, callused hands tucked beneath him, lifting him up, opening him for the intrusion he’d longed for. Will’s mouth and tongue and lube-slick fingers ensured he was buried to the hilt in one slow push. Hannibal folded up around him, heels dug in hard, hands gripping tightly, greedy for everything Will could give him, even his temper. But Will was gentle with him, tender with him, all of that resentment and anger forsaken for this moment of closeness Hannibal had only dreamed of.

“Anything you want,” Hannibal moaned, the deep, determined roll of Will’s hips far more satisfying than any vicious pummelling he might ask for. He was compelled to offer, all the same. Anything for this beautiful boy.

Will dragged his teeth down Hannibal’s jaw and breathed into his ear, “I don’t want to hurt you, Hannibal.”

“You won’t,” he said, but was pleased all the same and hoped that Will had forgiven him after all.

His climax, when Will finally allowed him to tip over the edge of pleasure, was fierce enough to leave him aching, subsiding in a satisfied slump of sweat and kiss-slick skin and heat. He tightened his thighs and cradled Will’s shuddering body, feeling the pulse and push of his sex within as he came. They hadn’t kissed this whole time, he realized, laying there with his fingers deep in Will’s curls and Will’s breath pouring over his collarbone. Hannibal wanted Will to kiss him.

But he didn’t.

He kissed Hannibal’s throat, his shoulders, his chest, his belly, kissed as he coiled off and away, his blank stare returning as the heat between them faded.

“I have to go,” he said, dressing with haste, leaving Hannibal a satiated but bewildered mess behind him.

“Must you?” It felt petulant even to himself, even though he knew something must be done with Mr. Tier, that Will’s work was not yet done.

Will glanced back at him, pausing in the act of tying his boots. Hannibal had the most peculiar and unusual urge to cover himself.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Hannibal,” he murmured.

“You didn’t hurt me, Will,” Hannibal said, hoping to reassure him, even as Will left him there.

He didn’t understand then, in that moment, what Will had meant about hurting him.

Feasting on that encounter through his Memory Palace, bereft on his cot in the BSHCI, he finally did.

A/N:  I don’t usually use the terms Top and bottom unless I’m writing BDSM, but I use it to honor this day! Every booty deserves some love!

[feyestwords-blog]

Hey everyone! So you may remember a previous post of mine where August 9th was declared Bottom Hannibal Day. Well @cannibalcuisine​ and I got together and decided to make it a little more “official,” so...

         On Wednesday, August 9th, we humbly invite                    everyone to participate in Bottom Hannibal Day! 

BUT WHY: Every few months, this fandom spends a few days bogged down in the discourse of Bottom Hannibal, usually spurred by someone who is vocally unhappy that they had to witness it in some form or another. Recently the fandom has acknowledged that this gets a little tiresome, so, we propose making this less about repetitive discourse, and more about celebrating our favorite cannibal getting the pounding he truly deserves. After all, this fandom is full of Top Hannibal/Bottom Will, and it’s important to remember, in the words of Bryan Fuller, “They flip.”

OMG WHEN/HOW: On August 9th, post your Bottom Hannibal contributions with the hashtag #BottomHannibalDay or just #BottomHannibal. Please feel free to tag @cannibalcuisine and I (@feyestwords) as well, we’d love to see everything & will be reblogging works. We will also likely add a collection to AO3 for the day (depending on how many people intend to participate).

WHAT?!: Not just fanfiction or art - everyone is invited to contribute whatever they want. Videos, manips, edits, gifsets, murals, dissertations, powerpoint lectures, interpretive dance - all are welcome.

                           We can’t wait to see your beautiful work!

[thisismydesignhannibal]

HAPPY HANNIGRAM DAY!

I’m going to answer the questions posted by @the-winnowing-wind for Hannigram Day!

We, the fannibals, have declared August 22 to be hannigram day!!! If you want to add to the festivities but don’t know what to post, consider answering the following questions! I tag EVERYONE to play!!!

1.       When did you first hear about Hannigram?

I was actually watching Hannibal in a vacuum outside of the fandom for the first 3-4 times, but it wasn't far into the first season when I started realising that our two lovely boys really just weren't behaving like typical 'friends' ;P (Did you just smell me…We're her father's now… Hannibal's shining cannibal eyes of love when he realised Tobias didn't kill Will…etc. etc. etc.)   It was a slow-ish build for me, but past the first season Hannigram was undeniable!  I didn't hear the word Hannigram until I joined Tumblr but I shipped them HARD from really early on.

2.       What was your last thought about Hannigram?

By last thought do you mean the EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY thoughts I have about Hannigram? Seriously, they've taken over my brain XD I guess the things I think about them the most are about their reciprocity. Most of my fics revolve around that in some way…the way that power and influence and love flows between them.

3.       What was the first episode where /you/ started to ship the ship?

Honestly, probably from the first episode in a way. But it was a slow build. Little things compiling on little things for a chunk of the first season. But even from that first breakfast in the hotel room, the way Hannibal made Will laugh, and how he looked at him…those two didn't stand a chance!

 4.       Do you ship a Hannigram AU? Which one is your favorite!!!

 Honestly, I ship them all if they're well written! I have a specific love of Tristhad and Spacedogs like the rest of us but Basic Chickens, Streunsex, Royal Instinct… the list is endless in the hands of this talented fandom!

 5.       Have you created anything for Hannigram? If so, what’s your favorite thing done? If not, what’s your favorite thing seen?

 Everything I write is Hannigram!  I haven't attempted any other pairings yet, although I'd like to try my hand at an ABO Tristhad. Hmmm, favourites are hard… 

I really enjoyed writing my piece And Cure His Heart for #JustFuckMeUp and my very recent fic for #BottomHannibalDay Give and Take was also super fun.  I'm pretty proud of my piece for the @radiance-anthology but you'll just have to wait for it to come out before you read it! ;P

6.       Do you remember your first Hannigram fic/art piece?

The first ever Hannigram anything I saw the beautiful manip below that popped up on Pinterest before I found Tumblr.  I almost DIED!  (I still can’t find who did it, anyone know?)

Once I found Tumblr, there was just so much Hannigram I didn't know what to do with myself.  The first fic I fell in love with was the gorgeous Marriage series by @fragile-teacup which I found after reading her unbelievably amazing Drabbles.  Do yourself a favour and READ THEM!

 7.       Favorite Hannigram quote?

 This is really hard, but I'll probably go with "If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time." Or "Did you believe you could change me the way I changed you?...I already did." I could keep going of course, but those are classics. 

8.       Favorite Hannigram memory?

 If that's moment in the show, that's even HARDER! I mean, I feel like you have to put Mizumono and The Wrath of the Lamb aside to even be fair…but the entire final scene in Su-Zakana was so amazing, and when they met again at the Ufizzi. My heart is just swelling and breaking even as I type this!

9.       It’s almost 2 years since TWOTL - what do you think Will and Hannibal are planning for that day?

Maybe they saved a few pieces of the Dragon to eat on their anniversaries, like people do with wedding cakes! I like to believe that they're planning nothing more than staying in bed all day…with breaks for delicious food of course. ;P But a commemorative hunt would also seem pretty appropriate!

HAPPY #HANNIGRAMDAY EVERYONE!  I love you all, and I’m so happy to sail in this beautiful ship with you!

[hannibalcreative]

Welcome to Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive’s Masterpost for #ForBothOfUs

We were amazed at the response to this challenge– Fannibals love to work together and we came together to produce all sorts of wonderful work. From the silly to the profound, it’s all here for your enjoyment. 

  Note: Due to the nature of the coding we use to more easily compile these posts, third creators (and beyond) are placed in a separate spreadsheet column under “Additional Creators.” This is completely random, and has nothing to do with how much a person contributed. Please remember to give all the creators your love! 

Thank you so much to @postmortemdesign For the beautiful banner art! Please remember to show your appreciation for all the creators with likes, kudos, comments, and reblogs! 

Art

Blooming love by hannibalartblog and edge-o-matic

Summary:

Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings

Will Graham, Alana Bloom

Willana

Cálido y frío by edge-o-matic and hannibalartblog

Summary:

Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings

Will Graham, Alana Bloom

Willana

Untitled by felidfannibal and flamecrownedstag

Summary: Hannibal and Will collaborating on a kill.

Mature

Graphic Depictions of Violence

blood, gore, viscera,

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

Untitled by prettypurpleflower and sheep-in-clouds

Summary: a two-faced portrait, half will graham, and half hannibal lecter

Unrated

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

E-LIAS, part 2 by camilleflyingrotten and starkaryen

Summary: Adam and Elias from E-LIAS

Teen

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings

Adam Towers, Elias

Basic Chickens

Untitled by mxpopsiclestix and castielsburger

Summary: Wendigo!Hannibal offers the Ravenstag Will’s heart, straight through his chest.

Unrated

Graphic Depictions of Violence

blood tw, gore tw

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, the Ravenstag, the Wendigo

Hannigram

Saintly Will by miasmatik and carrioncrowned

Summary: An illustration of Will Graham inspired by Gothic stained glass.

Unrated

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

No Add'l Warnings

Will Graham

Gen ( no pairings)

Feast by pangaeastarseed and carrioncrowned

Summary: A young, disheveled Hannibal Lecter framed by flowers and fruit.

Unrated

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings

Hannibal Lecter

Gen ( no pairings)

Untitled by miasmatik and donutdraws

Summary: Bloody Will and the Ravenstag.

Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings

Will Graham

Gen ( no pairings)

Untitled by siliconworldnet and HannibalArt

Summary: Alana Bloom, draped over Will Graham’s back and kissing his neck.

Unrated

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings

Will Graham, Alana Bloom

Willana (Will Graham/Alana Bloom)

Edit, Poetry

Poetry Is Hard: The Lost Works of Anthony Dimmond Poetry Is Hard: The Lost Works of Anthony Dimmond (edit) by Devereauxs_Disease, shiphitsthefan, HotMolasses, HotSauce418, Kateera, Llewcie, RedFive, and Victorine

Summary: Poor Anthony these limericks didn’t write; All of us are aware of his poor plight. So, composed on a whim, We’ve supplied them for him, And collected them here for your own sight.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Adam Towers, Adam Raki, Alana Bloom, Bedelia du Maurier, Beverly Katz, Brian Zeller, Charmont, Elias, Freddie Lounds, Frederick Chilton, Galahad, Hugh Dancy, Jack Crawford, Jimmy Price, Lee Fallon, Mads Mikkelsen, Mason Verger, Nigel, One Eye, Tristan, Tobias Budge, Franklyn Froideveaux, Francis Dolarhyde, Buster, Winston, Chiyoh, Darko, Tonny, Kaecilius, d'Artagnan, Comte de Rochefort, Igor Stravinsky, Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett, Mortimer Granville

Hannigram, Gen ( no pairings), Basic Chickens, BearDogs (Nigel/Lee), Madancy, Tristhad, Spacedogs, Valhalla Enchanted (Charmont/One Eye), d'Artagnan/Comte de Rochefort, Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett/Igor Stravinsky

Fic

Music wove us on its patterning loom by Hannibalsimago and purplesocrates

Summary: Will buys Hannibal a present for his birthday which they decide to try out at the Opera…then in the car…then at home! For #BottomHannibalDay and #ForBothOfUs.

Explicit

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

Fic

My roots run deep into the hollow by Dapperscript and merrythoughts

Summary: Matthew has no plans on dying anytime soon, thanks. He’s got things to do. Great things. And he has new friends to play with. Will Graham isn’t the Copycat Killer, but Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper and the Ripper fancies Graham and he has access to Graham, but Graham hates Lecter… What a tangled fucking web. A serial killer soap opera. [Mid-season 2 AU… Will Graham and Matthew Brown become friends with a common goal. Focuses on the dynamic between Will, Hannibal and Matthew.]

Explicit

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Manipulation, Mental Instability, Hallucinations, Possessive Behavior

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Matthew Brown

Will Graham/Matthew Brown/Hannibal Lecter

Fic, Art

E-LIAS (Art) E-LIAS (Fic) by camilleflyingrotten and starkaryen

Summary: In the future, Elias is the only person living on the earth, and all he has known is the lifeless wasteland the world is now. Even though he hasn’t abandoned hope, it doesn’t look like human beings will return any time soon… But maybe one human being could return, after all.

Teen

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Adam Towers, Elias

Basic Chickens

Fic, Art

Sauntered Vaguely Downward (Fic) Sauntered Vaguely Downward (Art) by mokuyoubi, electrarhodes and Darkpriestess

Summary: A Good Omens fusion featuring the angel Will and the demon Hannibal, detailing their friendship from Lucifer’s Fall to the birth of the antichrist.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Alana Bloom, Jack Crawford, Franklyn Froideveaux

Hannigram

Fic, Art

Taste of Kindness by cinnamaldeide and begintoblur

Summary: Despite his prospects, Hannibal didn’t expect he’d still need third parties to access one more unexpected side of Will Graham.

Gen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

Fic, Art

Amor E Morte Amor E Morte by shoegazerx and nightliferogue

Summary: There was talk of course. It was still a spectacular tale of murder and intrigue that had no answers beyond one: Hannibal Lecter was the Chesapeake Ripper and now that he was dead no one would ever know why.

Teen

Major Character Death

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

Fic, Art

The Ghosts in the Garden by carrioncrowned and ElectraRhodes

Summary: When Hannibal’s favourite shirt goes missing he realises that after everything that’s happened maybe he and Will are not alone.

Teen

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Abigail Hobbs, Beverly Katz

Hannigram

Fic, Craft

Doggerel Doggerel Edit by Devereauxs_Disease and Llewcie

Summary: Dear Diary, Will stormed out of the house today after what I consider to be an extremely petty argument.

Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, a dog

Hannigram

Fic, Craft

Defend Unto Death by serenitynerd, electrarhodes  and @hannigram-hell 

Summary: A three-Fannibal collaboration with the theme of lavender and honey.

Unrated

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

Fic, Edit

Our Favorite Weapon (Fic) Our Favorite Weapon (Edit) by Destinyawakened and feveredsweetness

Summary: Victims come and always go. The means used to achieve their ends growing all the more stagnant. Killing in the name of the profession has long since left Agent Lecter bereft of any delight there was to have in such wickedness, until now.

Mature

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Choking, Asphyxiation, Manipulation

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

Fic, Edit

Don’t be a Square (Edit) Don’t be a Square (Fic) by Identically_Different, DestinyAwakened and 11Mydesign11)

Summary: Mob man, Will Graham, is in for a surprise when his Boss, Bedelia Du Maurier, asks him to take her husband out for the evening while she’s out of town.

Explicit

Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

No Add’l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Bedelia du Maurier, Beverly Katz, Brian Zeller, Jack Crawford, Jimmy Price, Matthew Brown, Tobias Budge

Hannigram, Bedannibal, Preller

Fic, Edit

The Beast of Castle Lecter by byk23 and mizuvera

Summary: Once Upon A Time, in an old land named Lithuania, some terrible events sorrowed its inhaibtants. People disappeared, residents as well as travellers, and very soon rumours lead the suspicions towards the dark forest and the legend of a secret castle hidden within.

Unrated

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

Fic, Edit

Chance Encounters (Edit) Chance Encounters (Fic) by 11Mydesign11 and You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am

Summary: Christian goes to the comedy club, hoping to cure boredom. What he finds is a night he and Nigel will never forget. Will it end after tonight or is this just the beginning?

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Nigel, Christian (Our Idiot Brother)

Nigel/Christian

Gifset

Hannibal meets Jane The Virgin’s Narrator, [Part 1/?] by youandihavebeguntoblur and firuflies

Summary:

Gen

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom

Gen ( no pairings)

Gifset

Hannibal Meets Jane the Virgin’s Narrator, [Part 2/?] by youandihavebeguntoblur and firuflies

Summary: The love between two m… I mean, a psychiatrist and his patient.

Unrated

No Archive Warnings Apply

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham

Hannigram

Art, Edit

Şi dacă… (Art) Şi dacă… (Fic) by Nonexistenz and Hannibalsimago

Summary: Soulmates. The very idea is laughable, a fairy tale for children. Nigel doesn’t believe in it. And Adam doesn’t either. Until the visions start…

Explicit

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

No Add'l Warnings Apply

Nigel, Adam Raki

Spacedogs

[cinnamaldeide]

#FannibalSelfRecs: Hannibal Season Four - September 22nd-24th

Seems like we have once again the possibility to promote our own works, and this time it’s all about what comes after the fall; fortunately a lot of us made a guess on what’s waiting for us. Thanks to @hannibalficwriters, we have an excuse to talk about that, and sure enough there’s someone out there eager to fall down into the rabbit hole ;)

Tea before the Cake by @cinnamaldeide

Summary: How is Hannibal in bed, Bedelia just asked with incredible nonchalance, considering her missing legs.

Mature

No Archieve Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Bedelia Du Maurier; Hannigraham

After Hannibal and Will survived their physical-more-than-metaphorical-but-still-romantic fall, meat can’t be delayed from the menu much longer. After losing both her legs, Bedelia decides she can give up her composure too. Will knew that her statuary beauty, so similar to Hannibal’s, wasn’t the only reason why Hannibal liked her so much, but all the same Will hadn’t imagined she could make him feel so uncomfortable.

When I started to write this story, I was a week late to participate to #BottomHannibalDay. I was so lucky that they extended their deadline... So I started to work as soon as I had a computer once again in front of me. I wanted to produce something that spoke of bottoming Hannibal, without necessarily describing it happening. After a while, I realized I set my story after the fall, so I could present it for the #ItsStillBeautiful event, which would start in a matter of days. I waited, and @cannibalcuisine @timeandteacups and @feyestwords were kind enough to add my work to their collection, even if it was far from fashonably late. Thanks again, sweethearts! Apparently, this is the third initiative to which this fic participates.

♦ What does the piece mean to you? This piece means I can write whatever I want and my personal attachment to the story won’t change its success with other readers; more or less, I only sat and wrote whatever came to mind, when I worked on this story. The classic thing you write on the spur of the moment and ends up with more comments than the one on which you worked a month; other stories didn’t have the same luck, despite my love and devotion. It’s sort of freeing, knowing that the appreciation my fanfiction receives is somehow completely out of my hands.

♦ What was your favorite line in your piece? There’s this line, which is sort of out the general dangerous but playful mood: “Will felt so betrayed, when Hannibal took advance of his faith.” It’s just some words, really. I don’t think I managed to express how much my heart ached, remembering how bad Hannibal treated Will in Season 1. It just stuck me. I was there, writing about Will sassying Bedelia, and in the blink of an eye I had this stab of cold anger. It still hurt, despite everything. That’s the line that gives some reality to their little unrealistic exchange.

♦ What are your most looking forward to in Season 4? What comes after the Wrath of the Lamb will always surprise me, and I want to let myself be surprised; fanfictions help. Some scenarios are nice, some other not so much (Oh God please read the tags!), but I always marvel at our originality, after two years since they left us on a cliffhanger. We still have a lot of time to imagine Will and Hannibal surviving or not and reconstructing their new lives, but I’m positive we’ll manage somehow. I just hope Bryan will make Hugh admit there’s every premise for a sex scene, they just decided to not film it.

Self-promotion is always challenging, but isn’t it also one of the best thing you could possibly do to yourself? Take some time and allow yourself to love your creature so much that you admit you want others to love it too; a little bit, if not as much as you do. If you need motivation, read this.

You never know if your story is worth receiving praises until you write it down and do whatever it’s in your power to let others know it exists, even if it doesn’t become succesful. Just write it, write it for yourself, write it because writing helps you sorting out what’s inside you, and maybe someone, somewhere, might like it four years from now, but don’t write it for them to thank you afterwards, they might not. And you don’t have to feel bad about it: just be proud that, contrary to thousands of other people, you tried.