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cj-ghostemoji-destielpie · 5 months ago

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⚠️⚠️⚠️PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS IN THE ABOVE SCREENSHOT BEFORE CONTINUING!!! ⚠️⚠️⚠️

This is my fic btw 💖 it'll only get worse. Chapter two will be posted soon and it's... F-d up.

Royal Tastes, by Dragonborn_Eldenlord on AO3.

Chapter 1: The Young King, The Cannibal Knight, The Dead Knight:

Sir Hannibal Lecter. A knight, ruthless and merciless in his quests. Or hunts, as he calls them.

Hannibal was infamous among many kingdoms as the Cannibal Knight, or Hannibal the Cannibal, that ate his enemies as a show of strength; not a popular habit. Most Knights hated or reluctantly accepted their jobs, but he reveled in the bloodshed. The scars, the agony, the screams, the light fading in his victims eyes, blood gurgling from their mouths or dripping from shallow wounds til they slowly bleed out… He saw beauty in it all.

Hannibal was visiting a kingdom he hadn't visited in a good twenty years or more; the Ophiuchus Kingdom, named after the serpent constellation due to the multiple snakes that infest the forests. Ophiuchus was infamous. The past rulers were known for their vicious and violent tactics, for their greed and gluttony. The only reason Hannibal was coming here in the first place was to and get in the good graces of the new ruler, as they had recently had their coronation if rumors were to be believed.

Walking into the throne room, Hannibal noticed the grandiosity of the palace. The new King is obviously doing some remodeling since there's multiple portraits stacked in a corner, many of which are torn. Hanging on the walls in their place are tapestries, animal hides, and furs, making the throne room have more of an animalistic, wild, and feral vibe.

Hannibal noticed the lack of the King as the throne was momentarily empty but he knelt anyway, the dark gray metal of his armor scraping against the expensive tiled floor; dark inky black tile with gold outlines and occasional intricate designs. He kept his head hung low, and soon he heard the footsteps of who he presumed to be the new King.

“Sir Hannibal Lecter, at your service, my Lord,” He greeted, head still positioned towards the dark ground.

"My apologies, Sir Lecter, but I'm not exactly... Educated on the proper etiquette of societal expectations for how I'm supposed to act and talk so I hope you'll be patient with me. Stand. I'm Lokka La’Rose, new King, blah blah blah. Killed the last King because he was a dick, so on and so forth," Lokka says casually as he perches on the arm of the fancy throne, not even looking at Hannibal as the Knight stands, instead he's briefly frowning in distaste at the gawdy throne before finally looking back at Hannibal with curiosity, golden eyes slowly taking in Hannibal's armor clad body and handsome face.

Hannibal stood, looking at the new King now fully. He seemed young. At least, younger than most rulers. If he's an adult it's just barely. His outfit—well, it lacked any form of royalty. Wearing something like that in court would make him the laughing stock of all the nobles. He's dressed in simple hunter-like garbs; a simple dagger on his hip, faded animal hide trousers and shirt. His curly hair is messy but pulled back in a low ponytail to keep it out of his face.

There's an old ugly scar running across his face that somehow danced between both eyes without harming them. And his eyes are peculiar as well; unnatural gold, reflecting all light, and feline-like with slit pupils.

"No worries, there's nothing wrong with not knowing etiquette. You’ll learn, it’ll feel like second nature in no time at all, Your Highness,” Hannibal studies the scars on the young King's face, "May I ask how you got those?”

"The scar? I was eight years old, a starving orphan, tried stealing from some noble man and he actually noticed and decided to teach me a lesson. Left me with a scar so I'd be reminded of the consequences of theft. Instead it just reminded me of the power imbalance in the Kingdom and the greed of the rich.”

Hannibal stayed silent for a moment, his eyes locked onto the other man. He studied the scar again, as it ran across his face in a jagged line. It had clearly scarred over years ago, but it still looked quite prominent. He knew the old King, and he was a greedy man, for sure. He thought the entire Kingdom was a piece of him to flaunt around. And many of his nobles had the same mentality.

"I see. You didn’t deserve that, child," He said the word in a somewhat condescending tone, though his facial expressions didn’t change from their almost emotionless state.

A small quiet huff of amusement escapes the King, “So, what are you here for? You requested an audience with the King. I know I'm not probably who you expected but I suppose I can still hear your piece and possibly assist.”

Hannibal smirked at his slight amusement, finding the King somewhat amusing. He began to circle around the throne, eyeing the golden details. He then came back to the front of the throne, locking eyes with the young King who'd allowed the Knight to pace and circle around him, looking entirely unthreatened.

"I didn't expect y ou , no," He paused for a moment, "Though I heard that you killed the last King. Tell me, was it worth it?”

Lokka tilts his head in thought, ".... worth it for the people....perhaps not for me though. I didn't want to be King. I just wanted there to be change. But no one else had the power to do it.”

Hannibal nodded slightly, silently admiring his slight vulnerability. He seemed to have thought about it a lot. He crossed his arms behind his back, shifting his weight to one foot. He seemed to look him up and down again before speaking again.

"You did this for the people, not yourself. That’s very admirable, Lord La’Rose.”

"Thank you, but please, just call me Lokka. I'm still not used to that title… and you're interesting enough to keep around and befriend.”

"Very well, Lokka ."

The way Hannibal says the King’s name makes the young King shiver and his cat-like pupils dilate.

Hannibal tilted his head downwards slightly, his arms behind his back casually and nonthreatening but somehow still imposing. The boy seemed somewhat shy, but somewhat confident, at least for speaking to a Knight that was feared by many for his bloodthirsty killing. He took a few steps closer to the throne.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?”

“17,” The young King states simply.

Hannibal nodded as an indication of acknowledgement, slightly impressed that he had managed to kill a man—let alone a King—at that age. There was clearly a lot of determination and courage, perhaps some foolish bravery as well. He took another few steps, now being a few feet away from the throne.

"Ah. Young and full of life," He teases.

Lokka gives a small playful smirk, "I've heard of you, Sir Lecter. Hannibal the Cannibal . The Cannibal Knight . Are you here to add another man to your diet or are you after something else? I'm not easy to kill so I'd think twice if I were you,” His tone isn't threatening, just playful but with a hint of promise.

Hannibal chuckled dryly at Lokka’s comment, his hands still behind his back. Hannibal seemed amused by Lokka, intrigued even. Lokka was a curious thing.

" You're smarter than you look, kid ," He paused for a moment, looking into his odd eyes, before continuing, "And you seem a tad bit cocky for a young Lord.”

“Fake it til you make it," He says with a simple shrug, a hint of insecurity in his strange eyes.

Hannibal chuckled, noting a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He tilted his head to the side, studying him a little closer.

"You're not confident, are you?" He teased him, finding a way to get under the new king’s skin.

Lokka shrugs, unperturbed, “No, I'm not. But I'm stubborn and spiteful so I'm planning on sticking around as King for a long time. At least until I find a suitable heir."

Hannibal hummed in acknowledgement, somewhat impressed by Lokka's determination and stubbornness. He seemed like a boy filled with ambition and power…and yet so vulnerable. So…breakable.

He'll be fun to break . Hannibal thinks to himself with a secret smile.

" And when you find that suitable heir, will you simply pass the throne over to them without a fight?" Hannibal asked, taking a small jab at him.

"I'll train them, have them educated on the life of the nobles and the poor, make sure they have decent morals and a support system, and then I'll peacefully step down, give them the throne when they're ready, and perhaps stick around as an advisor or something if needed.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows raised slightly, impressed by his thought-out plan. He had clearly thought it through for a while, which he respected.

"So you already have a plan in mind, that's quite…ingenious." He paused for a moment, "And you're sure they’ll be fit enough to rule your kingdom?”

"I've no idea. Haven't met a suitable heir yet. Enough about that though. What is it you wished to accomplish with your audience with the King, Sir Lecter?”

Hannibal chuckled at him, slightly amused. Lokka was clearly done talking about the subject for now, which Hannibal was willing to respect. Sometimes you have to play the long game when playing with a new toy you wish to enjoy breaking.

"Ah. Straight to the point. I like you, Lokka." He commented, now towering over the shorter man, "I simply came to offer my services to you—to the kingdom, I mean.”

Lokka gives Hannibal a small playful smile, not bothered at all with Hannibal towering over him- most Kings would've had Hannibal thrown out for the attempt at appearing imposing or threatening, instead Lokka just peers up at Hannibal in amused interest, "You wish to be my knight?" He basically purrs sweetly.

Hannibal found Lokka's lack of fear for him amusing, almost down right hilarious. Most rulers would be intimidated by a man like him, but the boy didn’t even seem slightly bothered by it. Hannibal found it quite interesting.

"Yes, of course," He said, somewhat amused. "I am the best in my field. You’d be unwise to decline my services, kid.”

Lokka chuckles, "Most would be practically begging or at least respectful when offering their services to a King, even a young and naive King enjoys respect instead of being called a kid," Lokka says with a playful smile, casually crossing his legs as he remains perched on the arm of the throne.

Lokka studies Hannibal for a long few moments, golden cat-eyes piercing and intelligent as he takes Hannibal in, like a wild cat studying its prey. Slowly he returns his gaze to Hannibal’s.

"Ask again." He says, a small smirk tugging his lip, “maybe with a pretty please ?" He asks, basically taunting Hannibal.

Hannibal was taken somewhat aback by his request, his eyes widening a slight bit. He had expected him to be polite and shy in his response, not demanding and confident. Hannibal’s smug expression soon faded away, the slight teasing look still in his eyes.

"My apologies," He began, his expression almost blank by now, "I'll be respectful , like you'd like."

He took a deep breath, knowing he was going to hate it.

"May I please be your Knight, Your Majesty, Lokka ?”

Lokka giggles in honest amusement, golden eyes lighting up with joy before he schools his expression.

"hm...no," He says before smiling again. "I'm not going to waste your services as a common Knight. If you'd like to work for me, I'd rather you be my main security. Top knight, Housecarl, or whatever the fancy noble terminology is. I've heard of your skills and I'd love to see them in person. I've had multiple attempts on my life within just a week so I imagine you'll get a chance to prove yourself interesting . If you grow bored of being a bodyguard, then I suppose I can send you out to play with the other Knights. Does that sound appealing enough to you, Sir Hannibal Lecter ?”

Hannibal’s eyebrows shot up at Lokka's words, surprised. He was expecting to be a regular Knight of the castle, which was just fine. But security for the King? That was unexpected, but he was very much intrigued by the offer. And it would make it easier to toy with the King and slowly break him.

"That sounds very appealing," He commented, his smirk returning once again, "I agree to those terms.”

"Good. Splendid. Hope you don't mind explaining the seemingly stupid noble jargon the people here keep expecting me to understand. Do you understand the purpose of so many forks for one meal?" He asks, tone switching from the teasing playful to genuinely open and curious

He chuckled at his question, amused by the King’s clear lack of knowledge of the social rules.

"Of course. And I know the noble jargon.” He explained. "And it’s stupid, honestly. There’s so many rules for a simple meal. A commoner would eat an entire turkey with their hands, while Kings and Queens have to use specific forks and spoons for specific items of a meal. And don’t even dare to use your hands; you’ll be chastised by the etiquette police.”

The King sighs dramatically as he lays across the throne, "Everything has so many ridiculous rules and yet the commoners are more concerned with surviving, which is more understandable. Why so many forks when hands work just fine? It's stupid…”

"I think I'm going to like you, Sir Lecter." The young King says, rolling his head where he lays across the throne to look up at Hannibal.

"Perhaps I may say the same," Hannibal replied, an amused smile tugging at his lips. He studied him for a moment, admiring his confidence, especially for a young king like him.

“ Goddesses ! I need to get rid of this throne !" He jumps off of it dramatically, a good three feet in the air before landing on his feet in a squat like a feral cat before slowly standing like a normal human, "that thing is so ridiculously uncomfortable. And such an eyesore . Like, we get it! This is a throne! But if you're going to show off wealth you may as well use it for something comfortable . Especially if you're expected to sit in the evil thing for days on end and play nice with other nobility.”

Hannibal was surprised by Lokka's sudden outburst and unexpected agility as he jumped from his throne, not expecting him to be nearly as physically adept as he was for a King or a human. He let out a dry chuckle as he stood next to him.

"Most nobles and royalty don’t care about what’s comfortable. They just care about what looks good and makes them look better than everyone else," Hannibal replied dryly.

Lokka huffs and crosses his arms, glaring at the throne like a petulant child who was just told that he has to eat his veggies before dessert, “Well I'm not most kings. If I could have that replaced with a recliner I would... I suppose I'll just settle for having this fancy throne melted down to coins and donated to the commoners, maybe the orphanage. Then I'll just feckin' carve a nice throne from some cherry wood perhaps and get some nice comfy- but I suppose fancy fabric- cushions to line it with."

Hannibal chuckled at Lokka's…rant, finding his determination for a more comfortable throne quite amusing. He tilted his head to the side, studying the younger man.

"A cherry wood chair," He repeated, a single brow quirked, "With plush velvet cushions," He added dryly with a slight tone of mockery. He was clearly holding back his laughter.

The King huffs and throws his hands in the air with dramatic exasperation "Ye have better design ideas, Sir Lecter?”

Hannibal let out a few dry chuckles at his dramatic actions before replying with a smirk.

"Maybe. I was thinking something a little more… aesthetic ," He said, thinking over the design in his mind, "Dark oak. Gold or a dark material for the trimmings. Soft light fur as a cushioning.”

"....I might actually be able to work with that...I'll sketch something up and have you look it over,” the King says after actually seeming to seriously be pondering over Hannibal's words.

Hannibal hummed, finding him quite amusing. Who would’ve thought a newly crowned King would ask for his input on a throne design of all things? Hannibal had to hold back his smirk at Lokka's eagerness.

“Of course. I’ll look it over once you have it sketched up, Lokka.”

"....so," Lokka clasps his hands and rocks slightly in place, "I'm supposed to play nice and be all Kingly for a few more hours today. One of the servants told me that there were a couple different knights and messengers from different kingdoms coming today- aside from you. I was even warned that at least one messenger is going to try and get me to marry some King's daughter from a neighboring kingdom," he says, looking disgusted but hides it mostly, "Are you ready to play advisor/bodyguard today or do you wish to have a servant show you to your new quarters and start tomorrow?”

Hannibal could sense Lokka's disgust in his voice and almost chuckled but contained himself. It seemed he disliked the prospect of having to listen to someone ask him to marry someone’s daughter for political purposes. He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

"I’m quite ready. And if any messenger does decide to try to convince you to marry an ugly daughter, I’ll be your bodyguard and advisor.”

"I'm not concerned with their looks , I'm just opposed to marrying some girl I don't know nor wish to know ," He says simply, reluctantly sitting back on the throne, though properly this time. He glances at the grand fancy clock across the throne room, "The next person should be here soon. Don't remember if it's a knight or some noble, or a messenger though.”

Hannibal watched as Lokka sat back down on the throne, this time properly. He still found the throne to be a little gaudy looking, no amount of proper sitting would change that. He took a few steps closer to the throne, positioning himself on the right side of him.

"Well, whoever this next person may be, I’ll be right here," He replied, referring to his position beside Lokka.

Lokka gives Hannibal a small smile, "Good boy," He says playfully, but praising, and before Hannibal can snark or react, a servant enters and announces the arrival of another visitor; another Knight.

Hannibal’s smirk quickly faded in surprise with Lokka's playful praise, his cheeks taking on a slight red hue. He was not expecting him to say that, but he quickly shook it off. He refocused his attention back towards the entrance to the throne room as the servant announced the arrival of another Knight. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the Knight carefully for his mannerisms.

The Knight was mature in age, probably around Hannibal’s age. His armor was shiny and well-polished; he's probably rather stuffy and hasn't actually seen many battles. He entered the room rather arrogantly—like most Knights were—and began to speak in an overly cocky tone.

“Your majesty, I am Sir Charles,” The Knight said, standing in the middle of the room, not bothering to take a knee or bow or show any respect, making Hannibal curl his lip in distaste.

Lokka tilts his head, studying the man, "Sir Charles... I'm Lord La'Rose. What have you come here to ask of the new King of Ophiuchus?" Lokka asks, all previous playful energy gone, in his place is now a serious calm intelligent King.

Hannibal noticed that Lokka even used his title this time, instead of being casual like Lokka had been with him. The change was sudden. Happened as soon as Sir Charles entered, only a brief moment of Lokka sniffing the air prerequisites his personality shift when Sir Charles entered.

Sir Charles was taken aback by Lokka's sudden and unexpected shift into a completely different person. From a giddy, happy, young King to a stoic, serious individual in a matter of seconds. He paused for a moment, almost intimidated by the change, but eventually responded.

"Well, your majesty, I have come to… congratulate you.” He replied, the word ‘congratulate’ sounding almost bitter coming from his lips.

"hmmm... Is that so? You could've just sent some gift like most of the others singing my praises lately," Lokka doesn't sound cocky despite his words, he actually seems uncomfortable with the thought of being praised for what he'd done, "So, what else is it you wanted from me, Sir Charles, aside from wasting my time?”

Sir Charles was once again taken aback, clearly not expecting the King to brush off his praise and assume he was just there to waste his time. He stood silently for a few moments, almost shocked, before speaking up again.

“I wasn’t just here to give my congratulations, your majesty.” He replied, his tone somewhat snarky and somewhat irritated now. “I also came to request something.”

"speak, no need to dawdle.” Lokka says when Sir Charles doesn't get straight to the point, making Hannibal fight a proud smirk.

Sir Charles let out a snort, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a few steps closer to the King.

“If you’d be so kind, Your Majesty, I was hoping you’d send a few of your troops to help us in a little battle we’re having.” He explained, the tone in his voice still demanding.

"A little battle?" Lokka asks, a single brow raised, "Why? Plead your case, Sir Charles.”

Sir Charles let out another snort, his arrogance seemingly taking control as he spoke again.

“My kingdom has been at war for over a year now. We just lost a significant amount of soldiers and are requesting backup.” He said, as if the reason was obvious and simple. “It would be immensely appreciated if you would send whatever soldiers you can spare.”

"...you have yet to explain why you're even at war or why I should be inclined to help. Perhaps I'd rather help your enemies, hm? What say ye to that?"

Sir Charles stood silent, shocked, for a few moments. The arrogance on his face now faded into disbelief. Obviously, he hadn’t expected the King to be so indifferent and ask for a reason to send soldiers to help.

“The reason for our war…” He repeated, “Why- the reason is…”

He paused for another moment, trying to come up with a reasonable response on why they were at war and why they needed his help. A good reason. One that wasn't seeped in greed.

Lokka chuckles, darkly, in amusement, before speaking with a light disturbingly kind tone despite his words, "Give me a good reason, Sir Charles, before I send you back to your King without a head.”

Sir Charles almost staggered backward in shock, horrified by the King's response. His dark amusement and the threat of beheading him if he can’t come up with a good reason was enough to nearly make Sir Charles piss in his armor, but he managed to stay composed. Mostly. He swallowed thickly before replying again.

“We’ve been at war with our neighboring kingdom for years now. A war we can’t win without you. If you do not help, Your Majesty…” He paused once again, his voice wavering slightly, “We will be overtaken and lost.”

"Still," Lokka says, casually standing from his throne, and slowly walking down the steps of the platform to the main part of the throne room, gesturing with one hand casually for Hannibal to stay, back for now, "You've yet to explain why you're at war. Just that you are and that you're losing." Lokka's tone softens to an almost teasing seductive tone as he nears Sir Charles and raises a hand to gently caress the taller older man's cheek and tilts his gaze to meet his eyes, "so... Explain to me, Sir," Lokka practically purrs, "why," he traces his fingers over the Knight's pulse point, "you need me?”

Sir Charles froze as the King suddenly approached him, his hand gently caressing his cheek and moving his head to face him. The sudden shift in his tone and attitude to something more seductive and playful shocked him, his heart almost stopping as he felt his slender fingers tracing over his pulse point.

He inhaled deeply, unable to find the words to respond. His words got caught in his throat, but he eventually began speaking despite the dryness in his throat.

“I- We…” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"ooh, has a cat got your tongue?”

Sir Charles tensed his shoulders, his cheeks turning a slight pink at his words. It didn’t help that Lokka was so close to him, his slender but firm and calloused fingers still gently caressing his pulse point. Sir Charles swallowed again, his words stuck in his throat like a frog for a few moments.

“N-no.” He managed to stutter out, cursing himself for stuttering like a boy with a middle school crush.

The King chuckles playfully, dancing around behind the large Knight and draping his arms over the man's shoulders from behind, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and resting his hands teasingly on the man's chest armor.

"hmmm..." Lokka hums in thought, glancing over to Hannibal, "Sir Hannibal, what do you know of Sir Charles and his Kingdom?”

Sir Charles tensed more as the King began to dance around him, jumping slightly as he suddenly draped his arms over his shoulders. He immediately tried to look at whatever Hannibal’s reaction was to the King’s action, his stomach twisting into knots at the King’s forward and almost…flirtatious behavior.

Hannibal’s eyes remained fixated on the pair, his head tilted to the side observing the King’s behavior, and Sir Charles’ reaction. He noted his tension and how he seemed almost afraid of the small young King.

The boy continues to surprise me…

"Don't tell me a cat's got your tongue too now, Sir Hannibal," the young King calls out playfully to his Advisor and Knight, "Do you know of Sir Charles or his Kingdom? Feel free to speak your mind, Sir Hannibal.”

Hannibal’s eyes flicked over to the King as soon as he spoke up, his eyes narrowing for a moment before his normal, calm demeanor returned to him. He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised with the King’s almost childish behavior. He took no issue with it, it was almost…endearing…

Hannibal glanced back at Charles for a moment, observing his behavior further, before speaking up in his usual polite but crisp and composed tone.

“I know of his kingdom and his cause. I also know of his king.”

"Hmm," Lokka hums, teasingly nuzzling his face into Sir Charles' neck from behind, though from where Hannibal stands, Hannibal can see the way Lokka curls his nose in disgust at whatever he smells, or just disgust for the Knight Sir Charles in general.

“Continue to speak your thoughts, Sir Hannibal. What's your opinion? Since you know of him and his King. Should we help them? Why are they in a war?”

Hannibal noticed the way the King’s nose curled in disgust as he nuzzled into the Knight’s neck. That was interesting. Clearly, there was more going on than a simple plea for help. Hannibal kept that thought in the back of his mind for now as he continued to speak up.

“They’re at war with their neighboring kingdom because of a fight over land.” He explained, “Their King wants to expand his kingdom and is willing to take it by any means necessary, even if it means going to war.”

"Hmm...." Lokka hums, tracing his hands teasingly in a sexual manner over Sir Charles chest armor from behind as he continues to nose Sir Charles' neck, "pathetic," he hisses out before suddenly biting down and tearing into Sir Charles' neck, tearing out a large chunk of his flesh and causing blood to gush from his artery.

Sir Charles drops dead to the ground, a few brief gurgling noises before he dies. Lokka is now covered in Sir Charles' blood but looks unbothered. More annoyed with the blood on the beautiful tile throne room floor than anything else.

Lokka whistles out a sharp note and a servant enters.

"Maria, darling,” Lokka says sweetly, almost apologetic, and it seems genuine, “Can you have the gardener get rid of this one like they did with the King? You and the servants may sell or keep whatever he has on him. I'll need someone to clean this blood out of the floor. Again."

Hannibal’s eyes widened in utter shock the moment the young King suddenly bit the Knight’s neck. He stood speechless for a few moments, unable to speak or form any words or coherent thought. Everything about this moment was so…unexpected..

And strangely attractive.

Hannibal watched as the King called in a servant named Maria, almost stunned as he listened to what the pair said. He was still trying to process what just happened, and it almost felt like he was dreaming.

Maria nods and quickly fetches a few other servants. Soon the dead Knight is gone- a handsome but awkward looking man, the gardener presumably, fetching the body and carrying it out- and there's a servant cleaning the blood up. Lokka walks slowly back up to the throne and stops a few feet in front of you.

"Do you still want this job?" Lokka asks, unknowingly licking the blood on his lips.

Lokka's mouth, jaw, neck, and the front of his shirt is soaked in blood from Sir Charles.

"I promise to play nice and let you leave without harm if your answer is no. Though I will be sad if you do choose to leave.”

Hannibal’s eyes remained fixated on the bloody, almost gorey scene before him, unable to tear his eyes away from the blood on the floor.

He stayed silent for a few moments as he finally registered his question to him, his eyes snapping up to meet his gaze. His usual stoic features were now replaced with slight shock and awe. He wasn’t sure how to feel about any of this, it was all so…unexpected…

“I…I do still want the job, Your Majesty.” Hannibal says with a small stutter, surprising even himself. It's not fear though that makes him stutter. Something about the way Lokka looks with blood dripping from his chin is just… delicious. Maddeningly so.

"hmm... Very well then," Lokka turns and looks back at the servant currently cleaning the floor, "Maria? Sir Hannibal and I will be gone for a few minutes. If any guest comes, please apologize for the wait and have them guided to... I don't know where, just somewhere nice and keep them entertained and fed til I return. Understood, doll?”

Maria, a young, brown-haired, and freckled servant, looked up as the King addressed her. She paused for half a second before nodding her head. She didn't seem afraid of him despite the gore and violence.

“Understood, Your Majesty. Will do.” she says simply.

"Good." Lokka says with a soft smile to the girl, though the blood on him ruins the attempt at a kind image.

He turns and gestures for Hannibal to follow as he leaves the throne room and heads for his private chambers.

They're not the original King's Chambers- far too casual and not as overly decorated. There's still nice furniture and a sitting area but it's also decorated with multiple books filled with notes and scribbles in the margins, animal hides and leathers tossed everywhere, half finished crochet and wood carvings and leatherworking projects everywhere.

Lokka leads Hannibal in and practically ignores his presence as he goes to his wardrobe and pulls out a nicer but still not exactly Kingly clothes; simple black pants and a long sleeve black shirt. He changes and washes the blood from his face at the water basin before finally turning to look at Hannibal, not caring that he'd stripped down to his boxers and undershirt in front of the other man since the boxers and undershirt hid the parts of himself he likes to keep hidden from everyone who doesn't need to know his secret.

"So, any opinions or questions as to why I killed that Knight? You're allowed to speak freely. I won't give you the same side of me I gave him.”

Hannibal took the invitation to speak his mind, taking a moment to properly organize his thoughts before beginning to speak.

“You’ve clearly got a distaste for people who you see as weak, a person like the late Knight.” He began, keeping his voice and tone calm, and his words precise and careful to avoid sounding disrespectful. “Perhaps the Knight said something, or you simply got…fed up with him.”

The King chuckles softly, "hm, good theory but not quite, Sir Hannibal," He says as he sits on one of the couches in the sitting area of his private chambers, "I was going to kill him the moment I smelled him- I'm not a normal human if you haven't noticed yet."

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he fully assessed the king now, taking in his unnaturally keen sense of smell. This kid was far more than he seemed. He slowly walked over to the same couch and sat down a few feet away, keeping his usual polite composure still.

“You’re a werecat.”

Hannibal stated, not asking but saying it like it was factual.

“Precisely," the King says with a chuckle.

This was a very interesting development, to say the least. Werecats were relatively rare. Hannibal noted that Lokka's eyes resembled that of a cat. Sharp, unwavering, and almost predatory in a way.

“I assume you could smell that he was a coward…” Hannibal mused out loud, pausing for a moment as he noted more differences about the King.

“I did not kill him for his cowardice. But rather what I smelled on him- what he'd done- before he'd dirtied my Kingdom with his presence."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, intrigued to know what he smelled on him. He never would’ve expected such a young king to be so…violent. The death was so vicious and sudden, and not to mention messy. And it was all over a particular scent.

But God, was it beautiful…

“What did you smell on him?” Hannibal questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him.

A murderous snarl tugs Lokka's lip, but not at Hannibal, rather the Knight he'd killed, "He smelled of children, suffering children, at least two. Two whose scents were far too different from his to have been his offspring. And scents that reeked of fear and pain. He'd harmed them. I dare not dwell in what ways."

Hannibal’s eyes momentarily darkened as he listened to the kid’s reply. Child abuse, a particular weakness of his. His hatred for it was almost as strong as his cannibalism.

For a split second, Hannibal suddenly felt a pang of…admiration. The kid had a sense of justice, in a way. A strange moral sense of delivering justice but still. He wasn’t a normal royal, that’s for sure.

“Is that why you killed him the way you did?” He questioned, masking his previous internal admiration and remaining composed and polite.

"Yes.”

Hannibal didn’t know how to feel about the King being so…unapologetic and straightforward about his violence, yet he found it almost refreshing and…charming. Usually, nobles danced and tiptoed around the subject and acted disgusted or horrified when acts like this were brought up.

“A brutal, yet justified death.” Hannibal muttered under his breath, speaking his thoughts out loud by accident.

"I'm glad you think so," Lokka says softly, head tilted slightly as he looks up at Hannibal.

Hannibal noticed his head tilt, taking in the small action further. He couldn’t help but find it…cute. The little King was clearly not an ordinary King, especially for his age. He was young, wild, and violent, and yet there was an almost endearing quality to him. Almost like that of a small, feral creature.

Hannibal's eyes drifted to the King's lips.

Soft and stained a faint red from the blood that he'd just washed off.

Lips that had parted to kill a man.

Lethal but beautiful lips that Hannibal wants to-

------

The gif of Hannibal covered in blood belongs to @bloodydancy ☮️💖

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v1rtualv4mp · 6 months ago

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Blade : ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ — Masterlist

✮ Joshua "Scud" Fromeyer

SFW Alphabet [ fluff / romance ]

Self-explanatory. A SFW Alphabet of multiple romantic headcanons about Scud.

NSFW Alphabet [ smut / romance ]

Self-explanatory. A NSFW Alphabet of multiple smutty headcanons about Scud.

✮ Bloodpack

Bloodpack Headcanons

A collection of random headcanons of mine about Blade 2's Damaskinos's trained group.

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 6 months ago

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Make My Wish Come True.

Yandere! Doctor Hannibal Lecter x Bipolar! Female Reader.

One Shot.

Warnings: Mentions of sensitive topics like COVID19. Mental Illnesses. Culture Shock. Misogyny. Sexual Content.

Rated Mature.

Setting Time: Year 2020.

You were sitting down on the plush goose feathered cushioned bench in front of your new and expensive crystal vanity desk which had three matching mirrors to go with it.

Everything was brand new and it was now yours.

There was no way in Hell you could have afforded it yourself. All of it was gifted by your Psychiatrist and new Boyfriend. The locally known Doctor Hannibal Lecter PHD in Psychology.

The man who rescued you.

You owe him your life.

Since the good for nothing Pandemic happened…your already miserable and pathetic life turned into the worst.

How? The quarantine enforcement law which caused your toxic and dysfunctional family to stay more with you inside your gloomy household.

The failing economy made the cost of living too damn high.

Your father and older brother especially were giving you suicidal ideations.

Doctor Lecter gave you a weird look and knew something was wrong. He was an intelligent man and was a known Psychiatrist for many years.

So you bursted into tears.

Hiding a knowing smirk. The Doctor made his move on you.

It was about damn time.

He waited so long for this moment.

Lecter admitted his love for you. He begged you to run away with him. You refused to live with a stranger.

Suddenly, the gentle person you thought you knew threatened you. The Asylum or his home.

To your surprise. He made you sleep in his bedroom while he slept in one of his guest bedrooms.

You felt flattered. He was serious about you.

Best of all. He didn't touch you.

Yet.

Out of guilt, you wanted to repay his kindness.

You decided it's tonight.

Tonight you will consume your relationship with him.

You wondered how long he would wait for you to give yourself. He must have had a strong will to not force himself on you.

Gulping, you continued to apply makeup. The Doctor spoiled you and it was almost a week since you ran away from your parent's house.

You were nervous. Your first time.

Not to mention. It was a disgrace for an Afghan woman to date. Especially to a white man.

Thanks to the war, your community was mostly racist to Caucasians.

They would call you a traitorous whore because you had a thing for European men.

You found a home.

You found family.

You only had a house and lived with blood relatives. That was all. No love and genuine morals.

So many dreams came true this year after many tragedies in your young adult life.

Tonight you will make his dream come true….

You greeted him with a smile as he came home from work. He kissed you hard on the lips after holding your face then your forehead.

He was washing up for dinner. You placed your best Afghani and Turkish dishes on the dining table and waited for him to join you.

He sat down and complimented your culinary skills.

As he always did when you cooked.

You acted normal. But, you were shaking like a leaf. You didn't want to blurt out that you wanted him to make love to you. But, he wouldn't know. You would have to make the first move.

Being the smart psychiatrist he is. He always noticed you.

“Why are you nervous?”

Your face turned red. You gulped and before you could do anything. Hannibal's cell phone went off.

Your lover excused himself and you began to wash the dishes and put away the leftover food.

Hannibal was in his office typing on his laptop.

Rolling your eyes. You went back to your own room. It was actually his room.

Some romantic date night this was supposed to be.

You sighed as you sat on the bed. Lecter came back and saw your defeated face. His eyes furrowed.

He was leaning against the door frame of his bedroom with his arms crossed.

He realized what you wanted…

Finally.

He knew he couldn't control himself any longer.

About damn time.

He sat next to you on his bed. He stroked your long hair. He sighed. “Are you upset?”

You looked at him and replied a quick yes.

Hmm. Hannibal nodded knowingly. “Remembering how life used to be less difficult.”

You lowered your eyes and stared on the fluffy white carpet floor.

Hannibal smiled. “Don't dwell on it too much.”

If only it were that easy you thought to yourself.

Hannibal frowned at your hopeless look on your lovely face. “We're going to win.”

You shrugged.

Titled your chin up to look at him. “Hey! Look at me.” He stared at your shiny doe eyes. “When you think back to those memories. They're not a one time occurrence.”

You wondered if he was telling the truth or just not wanting to hurt your feelings.

“Maybe those won't be repeated.” Your lover explained. “But, new memories will follow after.”

He traced your fat bottom red lips with his thumb.

“I can't let you give up.” He shook his head. “We might be on lockdown. Maybe there is an enemy that's hard for us to fight.”

Hannibal's eyes softened with pity as he watched you slightly tear up.

A wealthy Doctor living in a luxurious mansion in the forest of the suburbs while women are forced to sell themselves, people committing suicide due to financial stress mainly and mental illnesses growing rapidly saying he finds this pandemic hard?

What about you? A struggling college drop out with bipolar, depression, insomnia and now anxiety who can't afford an apartment. What chance do you have then?

You began to cry.

Trying to evade the subject. “We'll fight. Darling we'll fight. And you will see your friends again.” He cracked a smile. “Your former colleagues, Officer Jack with his wife. We will win.”

He let go of your face. You smiled back. Finally.

“You don't have to hang your head low.” Hannibal placed his large palm on your small right knee. You were wearing the long silk nightdress he bought you when you moved in.

You were ready for him.

“You don't have to feel hopeless.” He rubbed circles on your silk clothed knee. I’m here with you. Understand me?”

You nodded and smiled broader.

“I'm going to be with you. Every step. I already have, haven't I?”

“Yes. I am grateful. Thank you very much.” You finally spoke and you meant it with enthusiasm.

He touched your wet cheek. “And why would that change?”

You shook your head.

“Exactly. It's not.”

He pulled you to his chest and held you in his strong muscular arms. He rocked you back and forth like a baby. “Darling. Darling. Darling. This world is merciless. It doesn't care what you look like. It doesn't care where you are from.” He let out a tired sigh. You heard the rumble of his broad chest. “It shows every soul the same type of treatment. Hell.”

You snuggled closer to him. Hannibal smirked and rested his chin on top of your head.

“But, at the end of that Hell; there is a light. If you keep walking, darling… if you just keep going; you'll find that light. You'll find it again.”

He pulled back from you to see your beautiful face. “You'll find it just like how I found you. How I found you, doll.” He kissed your cute perky nose.

“I love you.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He began to kiss you all over your face.

“I know…” He kissed your chin. “I know the future is uncertain.” He breathed out. “I know you're scared. I know. I understand.” He shrugged. “There's a lot in the balance of here.”

“But, I still have my beautiful bride to be.”

You giggled slightly.

Continuing, he held your hand. “Through it all. And my new car, Zalmai. Our cat. We'll add more to the family. Maybe it's selfish of me. Considering that maybe there is something in myself I need to work on.”

You shook your head. “You're perfect.”

Hannibal disagreed. “It makes me resent this situation we have to be in. Maybe I need to change my perspective. To see the blessings of you being by my side.” He kissed the tip of your fingers and bit slightly your ring finger.

“I love you, darling. You know I love you.” Hannibal placed his hand on your delicate and frail shoulders. He gently pushed you down on the mattress. “Honey, lie down.”

He sniffed your neck. “It's been a while since Daddy treated you.” He winked.

It was true. Since moving. He had to secretly change your address and he was too busy to make love to you.

“I need to make up for it. And I will…”

He kissed you finally and your tongue and his dance in a heated messy kiss.

Between kisses he said. “Put your hands on my chest.” He grabbed your warm soft palm and placed it on his muscular and broad chest.

“Feel my heartbeat. Now feel it beat harder and harder.” He bit your neck. “And harder.” He moaned. “And faster and faster.” He continued sucking your supple neck while your hand was still on his heart.

“That's what kissing your body does to me.” He explained. “Kissing your neck.” He bit your shoulder. “You being in full submission to me.”

He couldn't take it anymore. Fuck it. Fuck you.

And he will.

“I'm sorry. It goes without being said.whenever I get into this mood with you. I always come out as so fuckin’ horny.”

He ripped open your nightgown.

Your breast bounced from the impact.

He began to suck your tit. “All I want to do right now is have my cock inside your pussy.” You moaned his name.

“Feel your nails dig into my back. While we shake the bed. Good thing our neighbors are acres away.”

He circled the hem of your panties. “Baby, can I really fuck you tonight?”

Your eyes widened. This is his idea of being romantic? You knew men from the books and movies were different from real life. But, not like this…

You chuckled. “You don't have say it like that. So blunt.” Letting out a giggle too.

With an arrogant smirk. He cooed. “Will you let me? Will you let me go deep inside you for the first time? Your first time?”

That bastard wanted you to beg him. He was obviously teasing you.

“I need you. I am always thinking of you.” You blushed.

Finally. You admitted it. He spread your legs with his hands and he began to strip himself.

And bang! He dived himself deep inside you and you hissed in pleasure.

“Fuck!” He growled. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the master bedroom. “Shit, you're killing me, sweetheart.”

AN: I wanted to write this in 2020. A Ransom Drysdale x Cousin Reader

But, I deleted my old account because people hurt my feelings. 2020 was hell. The cost of my medication sky rocketed. I had no insurance then. I needed pills. And I had free therapy for almost three months. It was not enough.

Anyway, I got this from this voice actor I am paying 5.00 dollars a month on patreon. King Akira. This was a Levi x listener ASMR. All credit goes to him. He has a sexy and romantic voice. He has a YouTube channel too. He does Eren, Levi, karma akabane and more. He is a talented professional.

And see the song of final fantasy to feel better. Bye.

youtube

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #mads mikkelsen #Yandere #yandere hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter x reader #Imagine #King Akira #Youtube

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slamsuckingslut · 5 months ago

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WELCOME TO JUNOS CORNER :33

My names Juno, this is my corner, pls keep ur distance i do in fact bite and will have a pissing contest with you.

ABOUT ME

Im 19, Im in the US, i work as a busser full time, i play bass and drums, i make breakcore on soundcloud when im bored, im genderfluid and bi (currently single BUT BACK OFF FREAKS I AM NO EDATER.)

BELOW THE CUT IS ALL INFO REGARDING WHAT I WRITE FOR, WHAT I WILL/WONT WRITE, ECTT

FANDOMS IM IN/THINGS I LIKE

Hannibal ,, Rainbow Six Siege ,, Call of Duty ,, Smiling Friends ,, Metalocalypse ,, Juno ,, Ghost B.C ,, Life of Boris/Anatoli ,, James Marriott ,, WillNE ,, Jschlatt ,, Ted Nivision ,, Swaggersouls ,, Yandere Sim ,, Team Fortress 2 ,, Homestuck ,, Scream ,, House of Wax ,, Transformers ,, Kingdom of Heaven ,, + more just ask

WHAT I WILL WRITE

nsfw/sfw/angst/ect ,, super kinky stuff ,, drug/alcohol use ,, touchy topics such as SH/ED/suicide ect but only implied never in detail for my own personal comfort with the topics ,, headcanons/a-z alphabet/ect ,, male/female/gn reader (we inclusive in this hoe)

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE

pedo/ddlg (icky..) ,, somno/necro/noncon ,, incest ,, heavy gore (unless requested, it doesnt bother me as long as its like COD/R6 character getting hurt in a firefight or something) ,, abusive character or reader

OTHER THINGS

It will take me a day or two to do your request, depending what it is or how in depth you'd like me to be. I got a busy life, so im sorry if it takes me longer than a couple days to do it. Dont hesitate to dm me to remind me to do it, i have a horrible memory.

I will do anything for money, so dm me if you'd like me to do something for you (like edit, ghost write, be yo sugar baby LMAOO literally anything im so poor i cant even pay attention)

Check my blog for my two most recent ones that ive done, more to come soon 🙏

also anyone who can point out the two references to a show and band i made in here, u get a cookie and my love.

<3~Juno

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 4 months ago

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.⋆｡Take Care of Her for Me｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader x Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

Simon is a bad man. He’s rough and dark and his little bird is far too good for him, that’s why he gives Johnny her first

Warnings: virgin!reader, threesome, bit of soap x ghost, SMUT, size kink, voyeurism, grinding, literally ‘just the tip’, use of y/n, tiny bit of Simon being insecure, reader and Simon live together, drinking, some guilt, loss of virginity, birth control mention, m masturbation, unprotected sex, possibility for whole 141 fun WC: 5.2k

Minors DNI

A/N: I know it's my birthday but I hope you guys enjoy this gift for you!

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Oh.” The word escaped her swollen lips involuntarily and Simon bit back the urge to wince. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, her hands trembling as she sat back on her heels. “I didn’t…” She trailed off.

Simon cupped her full cheek, guiding her gaze back up to him. “I told you I wasn’t exactly small. We don’t have to, not if you aren’t ready.” She nodded absentmindedly then seemed to catch herself and shook her head.

“No, no I’m ready. It’s just- you’re so big, I don’t think you’ll fit.” Her head tilted cutely as she nuzzled into his naked palm, soaking up all the skin he let her feel. Her delicate hands moved away from the band of his black sweatpants and instead clung to his meaty thighs. His cock throbbed where it lay on his stomach, the tip already leaking just from his sweet little bird pulling him out.

Her thick body fit perfectly between his legs, her shoulders holding his knees apart as she knelt on the floor in front of their plush couch. Her sleep shirt had already been shed, leaving her in just a bra and panties that had Simon’s mind going fuzzy with arousal. “You’ve barely fit two fingers in me,” she muttered wistfully, her thick lashes fluttering, “this is.. a lot. But I wanna try, for you.”

Simon’s hold suddenly turned firm as an image of her sprawled out on their bed, whimpering and whining, tears rolling down her cheeks as he back arched desperately all while he forced himself into her tight cunt. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to keep a level head. “No birdie, not for me. This is all about you.” He released her cheek in favour of leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his lap.

He shuddered as her soft backside rubbed against his cock so he quickly readjusted his hips to tug his sweats back on properly. She watched him with a pout which he kissed away. “Can we at least try tonight? You already ate me out before dinner and played with me during the movie. Maybe I can suck you off? I might be able to fit you in my mouth.”

“Are you tryin ta fucking kill me?” He groaned, his self-control beginning to wane.

She snuggled into his chest, her nails gently trailed down his front as she shrugged. “Want to make you feel good too, even if you can’t quite fuck me yet.” Simon sighed.

He knew how eager she was for him, her fuck-me eyes were almost constant whenever he was home from deployment. If it were any other circumstance, he would bully his cock into her perfect cunt without another thought but his birdie was a virgin and he had made a promise to himself a long time ago that he would never cause her pain in any way. Simon was not a good man but for her, he wanted to be better.

“Alright, we can try something.” Her yelp made him smirk as he stood up abruptly, keeping her firmly in his arms.

“Simon!” Her arms flew around his neck, bouncing with each step he took up the stairs.

Her laughs quickly turned into moans as he dropped her on the king size bed, his weight keeping her whole body pinned to the duvet, his lips descending on her neck. “Fuck Si.” This time, it was her legs that parted, allowing his body to slip between them. She could feel the warmth of his cock even through their clothes, throbbing and hot with the promise of what the apex of her thighs contained.

His hand wormed its way between their bodies, thick fingers thrummed against her mound. This was normal, expected, the roughness and desperation of his touch a welcome salve to her overheated skin. A brief distraction from just how fucking horny he made her. He plucked at the band of her panties as his lips collided with hers. Their teeth clacked together with the force of his kiss, the muscles along his spine rippling beneath her fingers like he were a wolf, ready to take down his prey.

The fist planted by her head curled into the pillow as she nipped at his bottom lip all while her hips rolled into his hand, begging him to keep going, to finally give in to what he had been dangling in front of her for months. “Please,” she whined, nails digging into his back, “please I need more.”

Electricity shot through her as his hips jerked forwards, his hard cock bumping against her neglected clit. “Fuck.” He growled, pulling back just enough to shuck the rest of their clothes off before he was right back on top of her, now nothing between them.

His cock early nestled against her folds, sliding up and down with every small movement he made. “Just the tip birdie, ‘m gonna give you just the tip.” But his promise rang hollow, his voice already dropped low and coated with his darkest desires.

One of her legs wrapped around his thigh as he slowly pulled back, positioning his uncut head at her entrance. “Just the tip.” He spoke almost to himself and gently pressed forwards.

Y/N threw her head back, her mouth dropping open. A breath escaped her and Simon groaned. She was far tighter than he could have ever imagined, even with his head barely halfway in. Her leg squeezed around him as her back lifted from the bed. All Simon wanted to do was to keep going, force himself into her like he craved but he grabbed onto the frayed edges of his mind with the last of his restraint.

Just as the tip finally, finally breached her warmth, she found her words. “Too much, too much.” Suddenly her nails in his back, her face pressing into the pillow, her tensed legs were not her mounting desire but all blaring sirens that sent a shot of panic down his spine.

A single tear rolled down her cheek before he came back into himself with a jolt. “Fuck, fuck.” He grabbed her thigh with a deathly grip, keeping her still as he dragged his hips back and regretfully left the heaven he had almost found. Her body relaxed into the bed spread as soon as she was empty again, her hold on his back waning but her touch remained on his tattooed skin.

“Stay there.” Her whine of protest made his stomach drop but Simon still stood from the bed and made a b-line to the bathroom. He kept his eyes down, avoiding his own reflection as best he could while wetting one of the washcloths from the shelf next to the sink. He already knew exactly what he would see if he looked up and right now, he could pretend that monstrous reflection wasn’t him because she needed Simon, not Ghost.

By the time he slipped back into the room, she was already beneath the covers, the bedside lamp had been turned on, warding off the encroaching darkness. Her smile was hazy and small but it was genuine and Simon breathed a sigh of relief. She lifted the blanket for him to slip in beside her, an invitation he didn’t think he could ever refuse.

The smell of sweat and laundry detergent and something that was uniquely her enveloped him as he curled his massive body around her soft one, cradling her to his chest all while he wiped away the soreness from her. Her head fell to the crook of his neck, brushing her nose against his pulse.

The washcloth landed in the hamper with a dull plop, sparking a small giggle from the woman before it was muffled as Simon pulled them both down onto their backs.

“I’m sorry I scared you Si.”

“Can never scare me love, yer just a little puppy.” She lavished him with a glare but still sagged down onto his chest, letting out a little sigh.

“‘M scary.” Simon just scoffed and kissed the top of her head as he clicked off the lamp.

“Very scary.”

——————

The pub was mostly empty by now, leaving only the five of them in a booth in the back and a couple stragglers by the bar. Y/N was wedged between Simon and Gaz, drunkenly giggling at a story she’s heard ten times before though Simon figured she was laughing at Johnny rather than with him, his accent almost too thick to even understand at this point. Price had just sat back down, delivering the last round of drinks for the night onto the sticky table.

“And then the nun fell off the bike.” John finished the story for him with a roll of his eyes. “Are you ever going to come up with anything new?”

“My stories are great! Birdie thinks so, she laughs at them every time!” Johnny’s arm swung across the table, almost knocking over Gaz’s pint.

“Steady on Soap.” He warned, making Y/N giggle again, undermining the Scot’s point entirely.

Simon hooked a broad arm over her shoulder, tugging her closer to his as he glowered at the younger man. “You don’t get to call her Birdie. ’Specially not after you destroyed the front lawn trying to show off on MY motorbike.” But Johnny just scoffed and sipped at his beer, shooting a wink in the woman’s direction.

“I think I did ya a favour, those peonies were atrocious. Weren’t they lassie?” She turned her face into Simon’s arm in some vain attempt to keep back the heat that rose to her cheeks at the sudden attention from Johnny. Her fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket in a much too similar manner to how she would cling to him when Simon decided to torture her with his lips and words.

His right eye twitched imperceptibly.

“‘Sides they came with the house didn’t they? Ya needed a remodel.” Price snorted into his whiskey but it was Y/N who spoke up.

“I liked those flowers, they were the most ugly shade of orange.” Johnny’s smirk turned into something softer, something sappy and wholly foreign on the young soldier. His blue eyes, though dark with his drunkenness, sparkled under the dim lighting of the bar. Simon knew that look because it was the same one he held everyday since she had stumbled into his life and his heart. But where he expected jealousy, rage, at his lieutenant for even daring to look at his birdie like that, all he felt was a bubbling warmth deep in his stomach.

Gaz slipped from the booth, muttering something under his breath about a smoke, Price following quickly behind him, shooting a look at Simon before they disappeared through the front door. Without missing a beat, Johnny slithered his way into the now vacant seat beside Y/N, propping himself up far closer than would be considered friendly.

“Then how ‘bout I come over and plant ya some new ones.” Simon was sitting so close to her, he could feel the way her plush thighs clenched together as her breath hitched. “How bout it hen?” He purred, the alcohol on his breath strong but it was nothing compared to the weight of his gaze as it slowly trailed down her form, then turned to Simon.

“Think you’ve had enough MacTavish.” Simon growled, suddenly breaking Johnny from his trance. The man reared back like he had been burnt, ripping himself from the booth with a stumble. His eyes were wide with panic, his voice and hands shaky.

“Sorry hen, think L.T.’s right, I should probably get home. G’night.” He was out the door before either of them could think to protest, even living behind his beloved leather jacket on the seat.

Simon tucked Y/N closer to his side, laying a kiss on her head. “I’ll call us a cab.”

By the time the taxi had dropped them home, Simon and Y/N had almost completely sobered up though they were each still buzzing from the night. He had been quiet the entire ride, his eyes pensive and thoughtful but as soon as the cab vanished down the dark driveway, something inside him snapped. A strong arm was wrapped firmly around her thick waist, keeping her upright as he kissed along her exposed neck, the black medical mask he had been wearing for the night hanging over just one of his ears. Her keys rattled against the lock, quickly getting lost to the feeling of his lips on that one particular spot that made her body go fuzzy.

“Si, you’re making this really hard for me.” He grunted against her skin and pushed his hips into her soft ass.

“And you’re makin’ me hard, seems fair to me.” She finally got the key in the lock just as he grabbed at the front of her jeans, his thick fingers going for the button. The door slammed against the wall but neither of them cared about a potential hole in the drywall at that moment.

Simon grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her with so much force that she had to hold onto his forearms to keep from tumbling over backwards. They stumbled blindly to the couch, their lips firmly locked together all while Simon lifted her into his lap. Her thighs bracketed him as she buried her fingers into his cropped blond hair.

“What’s gotten into you?” She gasped, pulling back just enough to fill her lungs before diving back into his embrace.

His hips bucked up into her as a hiss of words forced themselves from him. “Had a thought at the bar.”

“Hmm?” This time, it was her lips on his throat, distracting the normally stoic man. He gripped at her ass for some semblance of control which was quickly slipping away.

“Johnny should have your first time.” All of her movements ceased. “You like him.”

“Si-“ She tried to pull herself from his arms, her cheeks heating with her shame. She couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“No. You do, it’s ok. I like em too, you aren’t special.” He teased, running his thumb along the apple of her cheek. Her breath caught. “He likes you, more than a little bit.” She shook her head firmly but Simon knew that she was thinking about it.

“You’re my boyfriend, not Soap. I want you.” His lopsided smile almost distracted her enough to kiss him again.

“I’m not gentle, not in the way you need for your first time and we both know that I’m too much for you to take. So-“

“You want me to fuck your best friend.”She finished for him. There was a beat of silence and then she pulled herself from his lap. “I don’t know about this.”

Simon stayed seated where he was but sat up fully, watching her every step as she paced around their living room. “I’ll be there too, not letting that mutt be alone with you so he can try to steal you away.”

“Yet you’ll let him sleep with me.” His smile grew. Y/N shut her eyes and took a deep breath before a smile of her own began to bloom. “Ok, but I want you to fuck me right after.”

“That, Birdie, I can do.” With one swift movement, he yanked her back down to his lap and kissed her before he could run off and get Johnny to come over right that second.

——————

Simon had been out of the house all day and for that, Y/N was grateful. She knew he was going to talk to Johnny today and knowing her boyfriend, that meant that tonight, she would be popping her cherry. He left with a tender albeit lust-filled kiss when he got up in the morning and a whispered promise that she should ‘get some rest’.

So she’d taken the day for herself; a long, luxurious bath in their massive tub, complete with shaving practically every inch of her body, then a nice coffee and breakfast and by lunchtime, she was deep in a book of poetry Gaz had recommended. The text arrived right when she had gotten up to make herself a cup of tea.

We’ll be home by 7.

A shiver of fear and excitement rolled up her back. This was it, after a year of taking it slow, all the angst of being with a man who was considered to be dead to everyone save for only those closest to him, and the anxiety of a multitude of ‘firsts’, finally they could take the next step. Even if they needed a bit of help.

And she certainly wasn’t opposed to the man helping her. Johnny was sweet and goofy in the best ways possible. Where Simon had been a solid wall of scars and fear, Johnny was a book that fell open the moment Simon had finally introduced them. He was easy to be around and Y/N couldn’t deny that she had gotten a small crush on the man when he tripped over himself to order her the most atrocious sounding cocktail just to get a smile out of her while she was having a terrible day. She also saw the way he made her Simon relax even through the thick shield of his mask.

She eyed the side table by the bed where she kept all her private toys but quickly dismissed that idea. Instead she wandered down the hall, intent on pouring herself a drink just to take the edge off. She could only imagine what would walk through that door.

“This punishment for flirting with your bird, Ghost?” Soap was doubled over, struggling to catch his breath with the full kit he donned plus the training dummy he had been forced to carry on his back. Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent where he stood at the side of the field. “Look, had one too many. Can ya blame me for getting friendly with a pretty lass?” The sun was high in the sky, the temperature rising steadily but still, he had made his sergeant run laps while the newer recruits were posted with Price for the day.

The pack and dummy slid off his back, landing on the running track with a thud. “Alright, what’s really gone on? This is bigger than what happened the other night.” Ghost’s shoulders dropped as his chest heaved with a deep breath. He nodded towards the benches which Soap gladly collapsed onto.

Silence descended on the two men as each sat with their thoughts. Johnny knew that Ghost would talk when he was ready, and he could only hope that he wouldn’t be murdered for finding his best friend’s girlfriend absolutely gorgeous.

“I want ya to fuck her.” Johnny’s neck popped with the force at which he snapped his head over to Ghost who was already looking at him.

The rumble of a car’s engine sounded above the din of soft jazz from the speakers. Yet the house remained still, tensed for what was to come. The car door opened then slammed shut. Simon.

The second door was much more cautious, barely making any noise when it closed, even the crickets hiding in the long grass along the drive were louder than his footsteps on the gravel. Johnny.

Y/N smiled to herself and tugged at the silky nightgown she saved for special occasions. Already, she was trembling with excitement, arousal dripping onto her bare thighs (she thought it better to forgo panties entirely rather than have another obstacle in the way).

“Birdie?” Simon’s voice was thick with his lust. Her fingers curled into the dress’s hem as she called back.

“‘M in the bedroom.” She hoped they heard her tone was sexy rather than the desperate whine it came out as. She readjusted herself so she sat up on her knees in the centre of the bed, a position she knew made Simon short circuit every time. There was a muffled conversation from downstairs then, the stairs creaked with the weight of both men. Y/N swallowed thickly as the footsteps paused right outside the door.

“Ghost-“

“No, hear me out. She’s-“ He scrubs a hand over his cheek, pushing his mask out of place. Johnny stays quiet. “She’s a virgin and I’m- we’ve tried but no matter what we try, it’ll just hurt her. I know how ya look at her. I know how she-“ There was a hidden ‘I’ in there as well, “looks at you. We both want this, we both want your help.” Soap folded over himself, his head falling into his hands.

“Christ Ghost.”

Simon groaned as soon as he saw her, his brown eyes almost rolling back into his skull. “You damn minx.” She half-expected him to jolt forward and sweep her into a kiss but instead, he stepped to the side, revealing a nervous Johnny who was still standing at the top of the stairs.

“Johnny.” She smiled at him.

“Hi hen.” He took a tentative step forwards, blue eyes flicking from her to his superior, then back to her. Simon pulled the black balaclava off his head and tossed it onto the plush chair in the corner of the room. Johnny took a steadying breath before his knees brushed the side of the bed. He glanced at the larger man one more time and then he finally reached out, cupping her jaw more gently than either of them thought him capable of.

“God yer gorgeous.” Heat crawled up her neck as another drip of wetness rolled down her thigh.

“And she’s ok with this?”

“More than you know.”

“And you?” Johnny flicked at the lighter in his hand, a nervous habit he could never quite break. Ghost eased himself back against the wall behind them, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You know the answer to that already.”

Their first kiss was gentle, tender in a way that made her insides ache. Johnny’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to Simon’s but a welcome change nonetheless less. Y/N took his free hand into hers as she slid her fingers of her right into one of his belt loops. He made a desperate noise against her lips.

“I’ll be gentle.” He whispered, his thumb brushing the soft skin of her face.

“I know.” The next kiss was more heated but just as caring. His touch travelled down from her face to the small of her back, the rough tips of his fingers tracing the length of her body before gently laying her down. Her nightgown slipped up her thighs as Johnny climbed between them.

The mattress by her head dipped making Y/N open her eyes. Simon sat half on the bed, his shirt already off. “Ya want Johnny ta take care of ya?” The smell of his cologne and Johnny’s sweat made her head spin. Simon tsked. “Words birdie.”

“Want him bad Si.” Johnny moaned into her neck as she ground her hips upwards, catching the bulge of his cock against her mound. He grabbed at her waist, encouraging her movement. Simon chuckled and reached between them, tugging the silky dress up and off.

Johnny’s eyes went wide. “Ya didn’t tell me just how pretty she was naked.” He cupped one of her tits, as if testing its weight in his palm.

“I thought it should be a surprise. But you’ve imagined her like this before, haven't you MacTavish?” Instead of answering, Johnny buried his face between her tits, occupying his lips with memorising the taste of her skin. Y/N clutched at his back, her giggles interchanging with her moans.

“Be nice Si.” She gasped as he took one of her nipples into his mouth

Simon just scoffed and leaned over, placing a kiss to her forehead before he stood up but not without a squeeze to Johnny’s shoulder. “You stop the moment she says.” He warned, earning an eye-roll from the sergeant.

“She’s in charge.” He confirmed before returning his attention back to the set of perfect tits laid out before him, this time he leaned his weight onto his right hand as his left brushed against where the ache he caused her continued to grow. He brushed her cunt with the tips of his fingers, gathering as much wetness as he could. “Shit, this really all for me?”

She bashfully turned her head into the pillow. “Don’t tease me Johnny.” So he didn’t. He caught her thrumming clit with his thumb as he eased his middle finger into her tightness. In and out, in and out, curl, in and out.

Her whine was muffled by Simon’s groan from the other side of the room. She forced her gaze to him, only to be met with the sight of her huge boyfriend spread eagle in the chair facing the bed, his pants undone, huge cock in his hand. Already his face and chest were ruddy with a deep blush, his huge thighs tensing and intending with each upward stroke of his hand.

Johnny’s teeth sunk into the fat of her breast, distracting her from the stretch as he added a second and then a third finger. Y/N’s back arched from the bed. “Johnny-“

“Jus relax for me hen, let me make ya feel good.” His lips latched onto her throat, somehow finding that one spot that made her legs tremble. She grabbed at his shirt as her stomach grew tight and then, she fell.

“Fuuuuck, god please!” She moved her hips with his hand, chasing her orgasm until her cunt began to ache for something more. “Please Johnny, please I need you inside me now.” He followed her tugging hands up until he was firmly nestled against her, his shirt now off and his wet hand undoing his jeans.

“Whatever you want hen, ‘m here for you.” Apparently Johnny had the same inclination against underwear as Simon did, his cock easily sprang free, bumping against his taut stomach. While not as big as Simon’s, Johnny was no less intimidating. Thick and cut, his head now almost a dark purple and throbbing with his eagerness to be inside her.

Something flashed in his eyes and he quickly glanced at Simon. “Condom?” Y/N pinched his chin and brought him back to face her.

“Birth control. I need you inside me. Now.” Goosebumps exploded along his arms.

“Yes ma’am.” He notched himself against her entrance and with one solid nod of consent, Johnny finally pushed into her.

The pain was almost muted by the buzz of her orgasm but she could still feel the burn of the stretch and the small pinch at her tightest point. Her nails bit into the muscles of his shoulders but he never faltered for a second, only cooing soft words of encouragement into her ear as he rocked forwards until he was buried to the hilt.

“Fuck.” She couldn’t even tell whose voice that was, too lost to the feeling of being so full for the first time in her life. As soon as she relaxed her grip, Johnny pulled out halfway and thrust back in as gently as he could. This feeling was so utterly foreign but so familiar, a burning heat that ignited her nerves.

He slipped a hand beneath her raised back, letting him press in deeper, hitting a spot inside her that she never thought existed. “Thas it hen, just keep breathing. Doing so good fer me.” His accent grew thicker as he hissed, her cunt clamping down on him in a way that made his head spin.

“More.” She moaned, lifting her wide hips. Johnny obeyed immediately.

The mattress springs groaned with each deep thrust, matching Y/N’s moaned cries. The burn had become a delicate pleasure that was quickly becoming all-consuming and it seems that the man inside her wasn’t faring much better, nor was Simon.

His head was thrown back against the top of the chair but his eyes remained on them, his eye-lids half-closed, revealing only the blackness of his pupil as he watched. His knuckles were white with how tight he held the base of his cock, trying to stave off his end until it was his turn. Johnny’s face was flushed, making his blue eyes shine even bluer. A vein on the right side of his neck pounded with his heartbeat and all Y/N wanted to do was to bite it. His abs flexed with each thrust, a rhythm that sent her up a spiral of ecstasy.

“Johnny, Johnny.” She chanted, her leg wrapping around his waist, heel against his perky ass.

“Good girl. Takin it so good.” Suddenly, the fire burned brighter and she let it overwhelm her. “Fuck hen. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She rippled around him, forcing his orgasm from him.

As soon as Johnny’s body went lax above her, Simon grabbed him by the back of his neck and smashed their lips together in a borderline violent kiss. “Good lad.” He growled into his mouth as his fingers curled into his now dishevelled mohawk. He pulled Johnny backwards, his softening cock falling from her with a wet pop.

“Finally.” Y/N was suddenly flipped onto her front and before she could even get her bearings, Simon slammed into her. Even aided by her wetness and Johnny’s cum as lube, the stretch was still almost blinding. A shrill cry left her lips but it did nothing to hinder the man above her, she didn’t want it to.

He punched into her with a force that made the headboard slam into the wall, cracking the drywall. “So fuckin tight. Won’t last.” His hands clamped down on her hips, no doubt bruising them but he wouldn’t stop, not now, not when he could unleash every single drop of desire he had ever felt for her.

Warm lips kissed at her cheek and neck as Johnny’s hand pressed against her large stomach, slowly moving down to where she and Simon were connected. He strummed her overworked clit. “Fuck! Do that again.” And like the good soldier he was, Johnny obeyed his lieutenant’s orders, guiding her into yet another earth shattering orgasm.

Simon practically howled as he forced himself entirely into her before he finally filled her with everything he had.

“Fuckin hell.” He groaned and crumbled onto the bed, a hazy smile on his face. Y/N rolled onto her side, fitting into Simon’s outstretched arms, her back to his front.

Johnny stood at the side of the bed, still naked and awkwardly watching the couple hold each other as he was trapped feeling like an outsider even if they were only able to be like this because of him.

Without a word, she held her hand out to Johnny. He looked at it, then her, as if he were trying to defuse a bomb and not thinking about how his best friend’s girlfriend was inviting him into their bed to cuddle after he had just fucked away her virginity. Then, he took it.

Her soft body easily moulded against him as he slipped under the covers beside her. Their legs tangled together and he rested his head on her pillow.

“Thank you for being here Johnny.” She whispered, placing a gentle kiss to his swollen lips.

“Y’know what they say, two’s a crowd, three’s company.” She rolled her eyes.

“We could always add more.” Simon teased, his arm wrapping around the sergeant’s back to draw him closer to them.

“Don’t ruin this Si.”

“Yeah Si.” Johnny parroted.

“Watch it Soap.” He grumbled.

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floatyflowers · 1 year ago

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Helaurrr I'm thinking of a young reader getting their period for the first time any character will do like sibling/parents yk 🥹

Dark Platonic! John Wick, Hannibal Lecter, and Thranduil x Reader

Father! Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal almost had a stroke when he saw trails of blood on the floor, after waking up.

Thinking that someone might have broken into the house and killed you, his 10-year-old daughter, he quickly rushes to where the blood trails lead him to.

Only to find you in the kitchen, in front of the open fridge, eating your favourite snack as if there's no blood between your legs.

Realizing what is happening, he makes you have a bath, and change into new clothes after teaching you how to use a pad.

Hannibal made sure to explain what was going on in a simple way.

But, you only pout.

"Does it have to come every month? Why not every ten years?"

Father! John Wick

When your period arrived, you already knew what you were going to do.

But that doesn't mean John would not coddle you, and make sure you have everything you need.

Especially since his wife's death, he had to be the mother and father for you.

You are the last thing left of his wife, so he will do anything in his power to make sure you are always safe and happy.

He would kill for you, and also kill anyone who would try to steal you from him.

John would make sure to buy the most expensive painkillers and sanitary pads because he is against you using tampons.

Also, the painkillers might be the same ones he uses after treating his bleeding wounds.

Grandfather! Thranduil

Elf women get their period at a much older age then humans, and their period comes every three months.

Meanwhile, you are half-elven, so you got your period around the same age as human girl would.

So, the Mirkwood king got confused when he saw you, his cheerful granddaughter, having bad mood swings.

Directed at him.

Thranduil also got angry, when you were good with servants.

He felt like it should be the opposite, he should be the center of your attention.

So, he locked you up until your period is over.

Let's just say when Legolas got back from his mission, he got into a huge fight with his father.

#tw: toxic relationships #platonic yandere #reader insert #daughter reader #dark #possessive #john wick x reader #thranduil x reader #yandere hannibal

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mizutsugi · 20 days ago

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Hiii!

May I please request a Hannibal x reader fic, preferable female or gn where the reader is a full-on insomniac. Reader is a full-on workaholic (literally can be anything, author, painter, lawyer, idk) so when they start staying over at Hannibal's every now and then, the first time he wakes up to reader no being in bed is SCARY for him. Because what if she's snooping around his house and finds his basement?

Anyway, it just turns out she's in the dining room, bathed in the bright blue light of her computer screen working. So Hannibal needs to coax her back to bed.

Thank youuuu

3 am 💻 (hannibal x reader)

↳request!

↳word count: 1,439

↳cw: sfw, gn reader, mentions of taking a pill

↳a/n: gahhh wait! i see your vision!!! i feel like he would act chill but be freaking tf out on the inside... thank you so so much for your request! hope you like :) <3

Your relationship with Hannibal had grown to the point where, after a hardy dinner with an endless supply of rich wine that slowed your senses, he would urge you to stay the night instead of drive home. He was still a gentleman, and would occasionally offer to drive you back, but after he really took a liking to you there was no point. You also would make no effort to argue with spending another night in his downright luxurious king size goose feather bed with pressed silk sheets, huddled up against his warmth.

Tonight, you were wrapped up in said silk sheets like a cocoon, back pressed to Hannibal’s chest as he slept soundly. You could feel the gentle push of his chest everytime he took a small breath, and it was quite comforting. What wasn’t comforting, though, was the fact that you were wide awake at- you glanced over your shoulder at the bedside table, peering at the digital clock- 3:28 am. You sighed. You sometimes grappled with insomnia, and as a defense lawyer you knew your time was never truly your own. Your mind would usually race with thoughts about checking your inbox, peeling over your current cases, and researching until your mind went numb and eyes couldn’t physically remain focused. You absolutely adored your job and the opportunity it gave you to represent the law, something so incredibly important to you, but at the same time… you knew that your career choice came with a price (outside of law school tuition).

You couldn’t keep your current case, in particular, out of your mind. Your endless stream of thoughts were urging you to rush to your laptop downstairs and re-examine the file of evidence for your client. You realized that, despite how impossibly warm and comfortable you felt in your cocoon of expensive and amazingly soft sheets, you had to get up and go through your documents. You weren’t getting sleep anyways, right? Might as well make the lost time worth it.

You slowly, ever so delicately, slid out of bed, making extra sure not to wake Hannibal. You let your feet lightly graze the floor before stepping down, walking on the tips of your toes out of the bedroom. You slightly shivered at the cool air beyond the cozy bed, feeling goosebumps rise in your exposed flesh. You made your way quietly out of the room, then down the staircase praying that his old Baltimore home wasn’t too creaky. Luckily for you, it wasn’t, and you were able to fumble your way through the dark house before landing in the kitchen, cold tiles beneath your soles. You flicked on a lamp on the far side of the kitchen aisle, where you had (rather strategically) left your laptop. You hopped on to one of the leather barstools and opened the lid of your computer, feeling the harsh white light of the screen on your unadjusted eyes. You squinted, quickly typing in your laptop before breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of all the files you needed already being open in separate tabs. You worked for a while, scanning through each document thoroughly and pulling up a separate page to write all your notes in.

About 20 minutes later, Hannibal had stirred awake. He immediately felt the cold of the room, and almost instantly noticed the lack of your presence in his bed. He could see the faintest of golden light peeking through the exposed doorway, and he knew you were up. He was always worried this moment would come- a night where you didn’t drink enough to knock yourself out into a deep sleep, and your naturally curious nature would lead you to hopping out of bed and rummaging around his house. You weren’t rude in the slightest, obviously, so you wouldn’t be doing it to be nosy. Maybe you wanted a glass of water, but found that the tray was out of ice and you needed to get another tray from the freezer in the basement. Maybe you would hear something down there and get worried, and would follow the sound down into a place you were never supposed to see. Though he had intentions of letting you know him completely one day, it wasn’t to be a day anytime soon… especially not while you still served the court of law.

He was torn between what to do. The last thing he wanted to do was harm you- he had truly grown fond of you- but if you found the skeletons in his closet, he would simply have no choice. His appetite would always come first. He stood up and opened his neatly organized beside table, finding a scalpel resting near the edge of the drawer by the handle. He grabbed it and tucked it into the sleeve of his sleep shirt, holding it there discreetly with his palm. He stealthy made his way down the stairs and into the living room, following its path to the source of the light. That’s when he heard something- the familiar sound of you typing away at your keyboard, plastic keys being pressed down at an impossibly fast pace. He took a small breath, composing himself to release his tension. He looked around before glancing at his couch, and tucked the slender blade he was carrying deep into the crevice of one of the smooth cushions before making his way into the illuminated kitchen.

“Y/N.” He called to you, causing you to nearly jump in surprise.

“Oh my god, Hannibal…” You clutched a hand to your chest, taken off guard but smiling at his appearance as he stood by the doorway, calmly watching you. “Sorry… I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Of course not, dear.” He was wearing his classic maroon sleep shirt with dark linen pants, and your heart softened as he offered you a warm smile. “I was merely worried when I heard you on your laptop. It’s nearly four in the morning.”

“I know, I know…” You said, partly ashamed. You looked back at the page, which was bathing your tired eyes in harsh white littered with tiny black lettering that looked, admittedly, a bit manic and unorganized. “I just couldn’t sleep, and then I thought about work, and…”

“I understand. However, whatever it is, I am sure it can wait for tomorrow morning. I have something to help you sleep.” He stated, watching you as you hesitated, sighing before eventually caving and bringing your delicate fingers to the screen before pulling it down and shutting your laptop.

You slowly peeled yourself off the tall chair, hissing in pain as your joints creaked at the movement. Hannibal looked at you sympathetically, assured you hadn’t seen anything he needed to worry about, before waiting for you to cross the kitchen and join him. You walked to his side before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, giving it a few rubs with his slender hands.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He muttered, walking you back to his room. He allowed you to lean on him slightly as you finally felt exhaustion start to course through your body. He stopped you on the edge of the stairs, and as you swayed slightly with barely open eyes, he swept his hands under your legs and tucked you into his chest, now holding you up with his forearms and making his way up the stairs. You smiled lazily, allowing him to carry your bridal style back to sleep. Man, he’s strong, you thought to yourself. He layed you back down on the plush bed, allowing your limbs to untangle from him and flunk onto the soft fabric beneath you. He climbed in beside you, kicking off his slippers next to the edge of the bed and digging through his bedside drawer for some hydroxyzine to help you stay asleep once you dozed off. He offered you the pill, and you lightly took it from his hand. You placed the pill on your tongue before he held a glass of water to your lips, allowing you to tilt your head back before letting the liquid flood your mouth. You swallowed the pill, and after he placed the glass back down, you snuggled up against him. You pulled yourself into his chest, already feeling 10 seconds away from sleep. He brought his fingers to your delicate cheek, brushing stray strands of hair off it and allowing you to cuddle up to him. Relief came over the both of you for two opposite reasons, but either way, you both were able to contently slip into sleep without any issues this time.

↳a/n: thank you so much for reading! keep them requests coming since i'm home for the holidays...and bored lol

thank you again to anon for the request too!

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal one shot #request

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theredofoctober · 2 months ago

Text

MANNA- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: HARE

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, Daddy kink, cannibalism mentions, death (including of a young person), violence, blood

Read after the cut

---

You wake in the cold. A coffin colourlessness— beneath you a floor, tiled like the belly of an alligator, and above you like foul jungle fruit a roof of human torsos, each sheathed in plastic and reduced almost to featureless meat: heads, skin, limbs all absent, burned, or stored elsewhere, or eaten.

For a moment you are taken with the belief that you must be amongst those murdered to lie bare beneath the earth with them. Then through the midden smog of thought you remember being carried, half-sleeping, down into this room in the night, that you have lain here under the belly of the storm for many hours, unknowing.

You scream out, attempting to writhe away from the canopy of the dead. In your struggle you find your ankle held fast to a loop in the wall, its chain like a strand of beautiful jewellery, yet still too strong to break.

A shape unfolds from the murk of some corner, taciturn beneath the queer light of that place.

“Good morning, Little One.”

“Daddy,” you cry, crawling forth in desperate hunger for consolation even from the maker of this charnel hell. “Please, please, take me out of here. I can’t be down here with them. Please, I’ll be good—"

“No,” says Hannibal. “I don’t believe you will.”

He stands like some grave and terrible seabird upon a dune of the drowned, unmoved by his work, or by your tears.

“Your unrelenting impudence wearies me. It seems that you’re unable to grasp the magnitude of your good fortune. I could have kept you as a pig liberated from the slaughterhouse, a domestic creature regarded, still, as less than human. You would have lived on slops, in straw, and drank from a trough, and like any pet you would have learned to be grateful for your keep.

“But I do not see you as an animal, Little One, and so I’ve housed you better than I would a daughter of my own blood. It vexes me that you’re still unsatisfied with the luxuries of this existence. Even the threat of death doesn’t curb your desire to spite me.”

You hang your head, baring your neck to this cruel swordsman and his words.

“Will has proven himself to be as I am in all but the act of choosing to kill,” Hannibal continues, stepping neatly out of reach of fingers that would otherwise have snatched his navy trouser leg to you. “But until you behold his appetite first-hand in bowers of blood you’ll turn your face away from it. You are falling in love with only half of what Will is; that is a chosen blindness, and it has led you far astray, dear Little One.”

Such talk of romance under the willows of the perished— you shift about in your unease of it, and the manacle about your foot cuts in like the gauntlet of a covetous and lusting king.

“I’m not in love with Will,” you say. “I’m not, I could never—"

“It wasn’t your intent to love him, but nevertheless you do. You long for him even when he takes you in anger, or speaks harsh words to you, for he’s so like the cruel protector of your oldest fantasies that you feel a natural inclination to accede to him. How cruelly must I handle you for you to submit to me?”

Hannibal’s disappointment is like another body in the room in the weight of its cool presence.

You have been mad, surely, to snub him, this vampire amongst men; snivelling, you kneel at his feet, unsure whether to present yourself as his submissive or his child to beg for grace.

“Will wouldn’t do this,” you say, gesturing to the sheathes of the dead. “Even if he did murder someone he’d— he’d pick someone bad. These people weren’t. I don’t like it, I don’t like it, I’m so scared—”

“You think Will wouldn’t succumb to kill as I do, in the end?

Hannibal is not nearly so handsome in this charnel pit under the house. His face is built of blades and vellum, his eyes like spider's backs, darkly resentful and incredulous.

“In the beginning he would select those unarguably deserving, then after that those that merely irritated his sensibilities. Will is quick to rise to jealousy or irritation. There will come a day that he will take a life for the bitter pleasure of removing that which offends him. I believe you know this to be true.”

Having been told of Will’s dream you can no longer deny this reality, knowing the hunt a call to his very soul.

You say, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Accept me as you have Will,” says Hannibal. “And as you must accept yourself, for you haven’t been entirely without pleasure in the thought of killing. Ten years ago you wrote of the urge to plunge a kitchen knife into your mother’s heart on an online message board after an altercation with her. You described that imagined act of revenge with relish, and she had only struck the back of your hand to earn it.”

You stare at Hannibal, aghast that he has uncovered what you, through time and guilt, have long forgotten.

“I didn’t mean it,” you insist. “I was mad at her, that’s all. It’s not wrong to be mad. I never would have done it. I love my mom.”

“Had you not feared the consequences of taking up the knife you would have done so, and I wouldn’t have blamed you for that. The urge to kill is not unusual, Little One, though it’s curious that it was the lesser of your abusers that inspired a dream of murder. One might take it as evidence that even so-called petty grievances are a just cause to act.”

That this man presents monstrosity as a legitimate dogma should suggest some flaw in the brain, yet he possesses none, is sane to the point that it is the alternative thought that seems a madness.

“I don’t want to be a bad person,” you croak. “And I’m scared that I already am. You want me to be bad. Us, me and Will. Both of us evil.”

“I’m no great believer in good and evil,” says Hannibal. “Nor should you be. You have suffered under benevolence and thrived through brutality. What use is good if it fails to serve you?”

As Hannibal bends to unlock the manacle with a key from his jacket pocket he glances up at you, the talons of his gaze holding yours.

“I trust that you’ll abandon your attempts to force distance between Will and I.”

“Yes,” you say, nodding vigorously. “Yes, yes, please let me out of here—”

“Very well,” says Hannibal, and setting the chain aside he aids you, on wavering legs, to stand.

You cry out as a chrysalis of flesh brushes against you, and as you glimpse the curve of what was once a waist you muse what mild trespass this woman had made to deserve her hanging here.

It’s this thought that reminds you of where you are, and of the nightmare logic that orders your life with Dr Lecter.

In a burst of panicked horror you twist past Hannibal and up the staircase to the room above. Unclad, barefoot, you run for the front door, aware even as you pelt through the gorgeous and echoing rooms that you cannot get out, or away from your keeper.

You fold against the locked exit, defeated and hysterical, raining blows upon the unyielding wood until your arms swing numb at your sides.

Hannibal approaches in unhurried steps, and you detect the sexual urge in him like the early sting of smoke.

What is it that makes him want you now? Your naked beauty, perhaps, the abjection of a Rossetti whore, draped, heaving, in an almond strip of shadow.

Then again it may be that he thinks you require his correction, that like some surgical enhancement it will align your will with his. You don’t look at him as he comes after you, this devourer of men, as though to peer into the curse of his face would be to sign yourself over to his damnation.

“Where would you have run to, bare in the street?” he asks, coolly amused. “I or someone else would have brought you home again, and you would have gained nothing in your bid for freedom but embarrassment.”

You endure his touch on your back, crossing the soft fields of skin. You hear the rustle of an opening made in your captor’s clothing, the tone of your own tortured breath through your nostrils.

You feel Hannibal lift your leg by the knee, guiding you into a contorted form that burns in the ribboning of the muscle, and up into you he fucks in stabbing strokes, a dance of violence such as the entry of some balletic villain in its style.

His left hand pushes your shoulder flat to the rattling door, its palm still cool from the basement’s subterranean climate; you feel less a girl now under his hold than a sow shot through at the end of its use.

Hannibal forgives you as he did Mischa: through consumption, this time in the form of sex. He turns his fork up in you, carving an ambrosia of tender excruciation— you let out a string of barking cries, aware of the intent of this hurt.

Hannibal takes no more pity on you than a wolf does the ewe it kills.

“If you hadn’t been such a difficult girl yesterday then you would have lain easily with Will and I,” he tells you. “Such sweet pleasures we would have taken together, for there would have been no cause to hurt you. How you spoil things for yourself, Little One.”

“I know,” you whimper. “I know. I can’t help it.”

“You most certainly can,” Hannibal insists, and closing his mouth upon your shoulder he bites.

You are so thrown by the sudden nip of fore teeth that you’re not immediately sure that it is real; only the slender tie of blood that falls between your breasts is proof of it, of his claiming of you.

It is a clever bite of controlled pressure, just as an animal would correct its child; it will leave no scar, nor will bruise for longer than a week. He kisses you upon the cut after he makes it, one hand ascending between you and the door to cup your breast and the heartbeat behind the orb of fat that protects its maker.

Without much thought he could gouge it out and eat like an exotic delicacy the smoking organ. You consider if Hannibal has dreamt of that, what you would taste like. Whether he has thought of Will likewise and resisted only to preserve the life of his companion.

Hannibal fucks you now as he once took to you his belt, each blow of hips against you measured to make you sorrier than the last. Yet violence to him is paired with sex like wine with a delicious meal, complimenting the flavour; it goes on and on, extending beyond the point of punishment into a Dionysian indulgence of his resentment.

That he will still love you afterwards you do not doubt. Abusers see no contradiction in such acts, and Hannibal, for all his pride, is of their ilk, a mortal man, and through the mires of torment you must remember this of him.

The pain of his orgasm within you is like the hinge of a jewellery box broken backwards, snapping you up against the door without any like joy of your own. That you’re so bereft is by intent, of course, to strip you further of your dignity. To grant you orgasm after you have so hurt him would be his failure, and that he won’t allow.

In an abrupt motion Hannibal withdraws from you and spins you by the unbitten shoulder to face him.

“No more tears,” he says, though your shock has dried them to air within their ducts. “I’d like you to be at your most delightful when Will arrives tonight.”

In other words his friend is not to know what he has done to you, or the others under this house.

“Yes, Daddy,” you say, weakly. “Whatever you want.”

Satisfied by your answer, Hannibal takes a bottle of pills from his pocket, the label having been meticulously removed so as to render the contents unknowable. Xanax, you imagine, or some such thing, the carrier of dulling sleep.

You think of being hefted away into that lower room in your drugged stupor and shake your head.

“I’ll be nice,” you say. “I don’t need them.”

“As your doctor,” says Hannibal, “I assure you that it is not in your best interest to contest my decisions as to your care. And as your guardian, I won’t allow you to argue. Little girls are best seen, and not heard.”

In the afternoon you’re served Jugged Hare that, within a well of artificial calm, you near forget to be afraid to eat.

“Who were they?” you ask, as Hannibal dabs the silk of saliva from your chin with a serviette. “The ‘hare’. What were they called, Daddy?”

“Would it help you to know?” asks your captor, and you turn your fork slowly, skewering a clod of brown meat on its tines.

“Yes,” you say. “No. I’m not sure. Were they a nice person? Did they have a nice name?”

After guiding the hare into your mouth Hannibal eases the fork from your slack hand to take away.

“It was only an animal,” he tells you. “And wild animals have no names.”

Hannibal carries you to bed, kissing you chastely above the eyebrow as your head rolls aside, near insensible. He turns to put on a recording of the opera Bluebeard's Castle, glancing back to notice you grasping fruitlessly at a patch of air below your pillow.

Dissatisfied, you tug a cushion down to fill the emptiness of your arm.

Hannibal says, “Was there a favoured toy you used to take to bed with you as a child, Little One?”

“Yes,” you mumble. “A frog, Philippe, only I used to call him Flip. Uncle Lee got him for me.”

“I see. And where is Flip now?”

“I don’t have him anymore. I hid him away after— everything.”

You’re asleep before Hannibal leaves the room, a thought flying the dusk of his eyes.

You stir, still somewhat drunk on Hannibal’s pills, to the sound of tense conversation on some nether floor of the building. Recalling Will’s unsettling confession of killing dreams you are unsure what you feel for him now, or what you must do in his absence of aid.

Yet when the agent arrives at the top of the stairs he finds you waiting for him in your bedroom doorway, trailing a blanket behind you like a child gotten up in the night.

Will takes one look at your flared pupils and laughs aloud.

“Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”

He pulls the blanket around your shoulders and leads you through your room by the hand, the work toughened skin of his palm a sensory delight. As you sit cross-legged under your quilt you’re loathe to let him go, irrationally certain that to do so is to find yourself alone.

Will seems much recovered from the previous night, his gaze hard and clear. The rift between him and Hannibal has strengthened him, you acknowledge, revealing to Will the other man’s reckless desire to possess and to exploit his company.

What use he’ll make of that knowledge you cannot guess of him.

“Aren’t you going to tell Jack and Alana about Daddy?” you ask, with a tentative curiosity.

“About him tampering with the food?” Will asks. “No. They already think that I’m irrational. Better not add anything else to that particular soup.”

He walks a lazy circuit of the room, touching objects at random.

“But the killings—” you begin, and fall silent, gnawing your tongue in frustration.

You cannot speak of the basement, would suffer more for that revelation than any thus far.

“But, like, when you have proof of the Copycat Murders,” you say. “When you know for sure, will you turn him in?”

Will’s back is towards you, a slim, clothed wall.

“I don’t know.”

“But you help people like me. I know how much you care. How come Hannibal’s more important than those girls? Do you really like him that much?”

Snorting, Will comments, “I wouldn’t say I like him right now.”

“But you can’t stay away from him. Do you think he’s right about you? All that stuff he said about how you need to be a killer to be happy?”

At this Will swivels back towards the bed again, his brows drawn together.

“What do you want from me, Little One? Didn’t you already tell me that I’m just like him?”

You wince at the retort, and Will casts you a look of quick regret.

“I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t exactly fair.”

He takes your hand again, running a thumb over the icy knuckles. How odd that it brings you comfort, this evil limb that longs to kill. Will would receive as much pleasure from wrapping it about your throat as this caress, hardening between the legs as the air ran from your lungs.

That he wants you warm, living, beside him is like the favour of Olympus, a burdened gift you cannot return.

“I know this isn’t easy for you,” says Will. “But I don’t have all the answers, and the ones I do know aren’t the ones you’re looking for. All you should be focusing on is getting better without distractions.”

You cannot alter his strange path towards Hannibal Lecter, cannot extract one man from the other, being that, by the dark, they may as well be one.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you say. “How’s the case going? Any news?”

Will coughs, spun by the tactless change in subject, yet he engages if only to diffuse the awkwardness of the moment.

“Jack’s already found a previous victim in Kentucky. In the next few days we should have the names of other women killed under the same circumstances. There was a previous case known as the Mask Murders that has undeniable similarities to the Lover’s. I have pictures from two separate crime scenes for comparison, but—”

Here Will pauses with the abrupt and discomforted realisation of having said perhaps too much.

“They’re not overly graphic,” he says, at last. “But it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to show you.”

“Did you show them to Hannibal?” you ask, rather shrilly.

In this drugged and childish space you feel a wrench of anger to think of the men shoulder to shoulder as equals and intellects even in this time of discord, involved as you will never be, by their reckoning.

You have seen death, known horrors, have felt the thrum of them across a web of dreams before their entry; no image could be more terrible than that in which by morning you’d awoken.

“Let me see them,” you demand. “I want to. I’ll be okay. Maybe I’ll notice something you don’t.”

Will pauses, on the cusp of delivering a stern and fatherly denial. But then you see a flicker in his expression, the recollection of how colleagues, superiors, and his closest friends have held his own mental faculties against him.

He takes an envelope from his pocket and sets the contents down on the bedcovers. You study them gravely, too detached from yourself to re-experience the nauseous terror of the basement room.

“This is one of the early Lover killings,” says Will, gesturing to the image on the left. “He strangled Violet Roth into unconsciousness before cutting flesh off her bones in an attempt to fit her into a silicone doll. When that didn’t work her skull and pelvis were shattered with a hammer; she was only identified by her remaining teeth.”

The doll in the photograph you’d expected to appear cruelly comical, the fare of joke shops and sex district windows. You are surprised to find that it looks quite real, so akin to a beautiful corpse that only the flawlessness of its artificial flesh and flirting eyes betrays its nature.

It—she—lies on a matt of dead grass beside the black rope of a river, its hair like a ruff of twilight shadow on its neck, the painted hands crossed upon its navel. A stitched slit runs from groin to temple, dried clods of blood stoning the thread.

“Then we have the Kentucky victim,” says Will, as you glance across to the picture on the right. “Anaïs Foreau. She was only seventeen years old when she was strangled and beaten to death by the Mask Murderer. She’s the youngest victim we currently have on record.”

In this image lies the body of a girl in a dress of frilled corsetry and lace, the head—staved in on one side—encased in a porcelain mask. Glass eyes stare benignly from under a fringe of mink lashes, their blind pupils capturing the flare of the camera.

“This girl, Anaïs,” you say. “The way the Lover dressed her and all that stuff. She looks... I mean, it feels wrong to say it, but it’s prettier, the way he presented her, like, compared to the other girl. Violet.”

“The Lover didn’t start mutilating his victims in earnest until the second wave of killings,” says Will. “Part of the reason is likely due to the impracticality of switching mediums from porcelain to silicone.”

“So why did he go from just the masks to the dolls?”

“The Lover’s jaded from his previous heartbreak. A cynical and jilted man. The porcelain represented innocence: he was honouring his first muse as well as protecting her by working out his urges elsewhere.

“But though he’s found love again the killer no longer believes in purity the way he did before. Whether directly or subconsciously he’s taunting his new muse with what she is: a woman. Just a doll for him to play with.”

Shivering, you turn the photographs on their faces, relieved by the white oblongs of their backs.

“If he hates women, and this woman especially,” you say, “then why is he even in love with her at all?”

Will puts the images away into their envelope, and you reach out to dust your bedcovers with one hand as though from death’s residue.

“Because of what he is, the Lover is a lonely man,” says Will. “He can’t give up on romance even if it ultimately disappoints him. And it will. Chasing nostalgia is always a doomed pursuit. Not even a doll maker can manufacture a reality absent of the inevitability of change.”

You look at him, disturbed by the echo of Hannibal in his phrasing.

“What’ll happen when the Lover figures that out?” you ask.

“He’ll just begin the cycle all over again, convinced that he’s found the real deal until the illusion breaks into pieces.”

You wonder to whom Hannibal would turn as Will’s substitute if he left him, and whether through love he’d allow him to live or consume him to solder his heartbreak.

Better not to know; that knowledge you suspect might be fatal to you all.

#manna fic #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere will graham #will graham x reader #tw noncon #tw rape #tw violence #tw abuse #tw daddy kink #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal fic #dead dove do not eat

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lolawritesfanfic · 2 months ago

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Masterlist

writing styles:

oneshot-💌

angst-💥

fluff-🎀

lemon/smut-🍋

drabble-💝

story-❤️

Yandere-🔪

Yandere Boys:

-Peter YB

❤️🎀🔪-Peter is jealous of Duke TK thinking TK and the princess reader are dating.

🔪-Prince Peter x Female Princess Reader- The reader is forced into an arranged marriage with Peter they aren't happy with it, Neither is Peter until they see the reader and see it as love at first sight and starts becoming yandere for them and will stop at nothing to have them even killing their bloodline so they have to get married sooner and becoming King not just of the kingdom but of them too.

🎀-Prince Peter x Princess Reader-Peter finds the reader crying in the garden, the princess doesn't know why she's crying but mostly thinks she's not good enough and peter comforting.

🔪💌-Prince Peter Blackmailing Princess's reader's family to get her to marry him.

💌💝🔪-4 suitors (Peter YB, John Doe, SunnyDay Jack, Alan Orion) fighting to win over the princess's heart.

-John Doe

-SunnyDay Jack

-Alan Orion

-Tate Frost

-Delivery Guy

-Damon

Supernatural:

-Dean Winchester

-Sam Winchester

-Castiel

-Crowley

-Gabriel

-Chuck (God)

Marvel:

-Steve Rogers

-Tony Stark

-Thor Odinson

-Loki Laufeyson

DC Comics:

-Batman

-Joker (Nickels, Ledger, Leto, Joaquin)

-Penguin

-Harley Quinn

-Catwoman

-Bane

Gotham Tv show:

-Alfred Pennyworth

-Bruce Wayne

-Jim Gordon

-Harvey Bullock

-Victor Zsasz

-Oswald Cobblepot

-Edward Nygma

-Carmine Falcone

-Salvatore Maroni

-Fish Mooney

-Butch Gilzean

Ouran High School Host Club:

-Tamaki Suoh

-Kyoya Ootori

-Hikaru Hitachiin

-Karuo Hitachiin

-Hikaru and Karuo Hitachiin

-Takashi Morinozuka

-Mitsukini Huninozuka

-Haruhi Fujioka

-Basanova

-Nekozawa

-Renge Houshakuji

Horror Slashers:

-Micheal Myers

-Jason Voohees

-Freddy Krueger

-Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins)

-Hannibal Lecter (Mads Mikkelson)

-Chucky and Tiffany

Orange is the new black:

-Sam Healy

-Desi Piscartella

-George Mendez

-John Bennett

-Joe Caputo

Yandere Simulator:

-Ayano Aishi

-Ayato Aishi

-Umeji Kizuguchi

-Gaka Hikitsuri

-Hohuto Furukizu

-Dairoku Surikizu

-Hayanari Tsumeato

-Tiru Sutiriku

Bully Scholarship Edition:

-Derby Harrington

-Gary Smith

-Bif Taylor

-Chad Morris

-Gord Vendome

-Derby Harrington and Johnny Vincent

-Tad Spencer

Disney villains

-Gaston Legume

💝🔪-https://www.tumblr.com/lolawritesfanfic/769350242091008000/yandere-gaston-x-female-reader?source=share

Requests are open for more characters. give me time to do my research if I don't know them and add them to the list. Enjoy reading.

#masterlist #ouran high school host club #horror slashers #yandere simulator #bully scholarship edition #supernatural #orange is the new black #gotham #dc comics #marvel #your boyfriend #john doe #something is wrong with sunnyday jack #my dear hatchet man #frostbite #broken colours

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yanderejustforyou · 29 days ago

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Master List

BABYGIRL 2024

In his care - Samuel (Harris Dickinson x reader)

Under his Glaze - Samuel (Harris Dickinson x Reader)

Power of your name - Samuel (Harris Dickinson x reader)

Yours - Samuel (Harris Dickinson x reader)

Marked by who - Samuel (Harris Dickinson x reader)

Honey covered kisses Samuel (Harris Dickinson x reader)

Into the Wild - Babygirl 2024 Harris Dickinson = Samuel x reader

No Escape, Only Him - Babygirl 2024 Harris Dickinson = Samuel x reader

Supernatural

The Boss’s Puppy – Dean Winchester x Reader

Unspoken – Dean x Sam Winchester

Whumpcember Day Two: Sedation – Dean x Sam

Submission - Last Straw

Red String - sam x dean

The Devil's kiss - sam x dean

Unholy Bond - dean x sam

a sick want -sam x dean

Thread of Doubt - sam x dean

Bully - sam x dean

A little Fun - sam x dean

Breaking the alpha - sam x dean

Give It All - Dean x reader

My Hero Academia

I Don’t Know if I Want to Be Let Go – Izuku Midoriya x Katsuki (Zombie Apocalypse AU)

My hope - Izuku x Reader

Fury beneath the surface - katsuki x izuku

Burning ice - Todo x reader

Flames of control- Dabi x reader

Obeying the flame - Katsuki x izuku

unyielding power - Katsuki x reader

unyielding desire - Kirishima x izuku

Sweet Addiction - Izuku x reader

Beneath the Apple Trees Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

Carving Shadows Fandom:My Hero Academia Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

The Prison of His Protection Shoto x reader

The Silence That Binds Us = Shoto x reader

The Penguin (2024)

Other Plans – Oswald x Victor

Day 2 - little lie - Oswald x vic

under his wing - oz x vic

The Edge of Control - oz x reader

The Winter King and His Knight - oz x vic

Day three its your fault - oz x vic

The Edge of Control - oz x reader

Touch - Sofia x reader

Crazy in Love - vic x oz

Leash of Desire - Vic x reader

Under you command - Reader x Sofia

A Vicious Love - Vic x oz

Guarded hearts - Sofia x reader

Water park request - oz x reader

Harry Potter

Whumpcember Day One: Broken Bones – Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter

Into The Unknown – Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter

Whumpcember Day Three: Shared Secrets – Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a New Christmas Tradition - Blood Play – Draco Malfoy x Harry

Hannibal

Consumed by Desire – Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter

Marvel Cinematic Universe

The Nightmares of Iron – Tony Stark x Peter Parker

Beneath the Mask – Peter Parker x Tony Stark

Haikyuu!!

Heart of Body – Oikawa Tooru x Reader

How Could I Ever Let You Go – Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

Attracted to My Sweetheart – Keishin Ukai x Reader

Do You Find Me Peaceful Yet? – Sugawara x Reader

The Boys

A Lost Chance – Hughie x Homelander

Golden Cage - Hughie x Homelander

Found

Day 5: Frost Bite - sir x gabi

Short and Sweet - A December fanfic playlist!!!! (a new one each day

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago

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⤷✿.｡Since you voted yes to commissions, so here we are. I was a little unsure about the price, so I researched and tried to make it as fair as possible. I hope you agree with this! ❤️

Also, this is completely optional! If you don't want to, you don't have to request a commission! All the other requests works the same way!! ⤷♡.+ n a v i g a t i o n.

⤷♡.+ Status: OPEN.

What I would write

I write for any gender, both character and Reader/OC, be it female, male, neutral transsexual. Any.

Yandere!Character x Reader, Yandere!Reader x Yandere!Character, Yandere!OC x Reader and Yandere!OC X OC.

Dark!Au, Gore, Disorders, Smut/NSFW, explicit language, soft!yandere, alternative AU, Horror, Age gap (depends on how much).

Romantic, platonic and general Yanderes, as well as more specific themes; example: yandere x depressive!reader.

Stockholm syndrome.

Pregnancy, childbirth and death in childbirth.

Non-Con, Dub-Con, BDSM.

Fluff; non-yandere.

Monsterfucking, specific kinks.

Angst.

What I DON'T write

Any kind of NSFW content with children, anything with children will just be platonic.

I don't write NSFW with characters that have a childish appearance or personality, just platonic.

I don't usually write ships because I consider it something personal, but I can do it if someone wants to.

Age play, scap.

Minor x Adult (only platonic).

Prices (in $ and R$)

Headcanons

2,00 $/R$ 2,00 for 500 words;

6,00 $/R$ 6,00 for 1000 words;

12,00 $/R$ 12,00 for 2000 words;

NSFW content adds an additional charge of $3,00/R$3,00.

Imagines, Scenarios, Reactions, Oneshots, Prompts

3,00 $/R$ 4,00 for 500 words;

10,00 $/R$ 13,00 for 1000 words;

18,00 $/R$ 18,00 for 2000 words;

20,00 $/R$ 20,00 for 3000 words.

NSFW content adds an additional charge of $5,00/R$6,00.

My list of current fandoms, but I can always add more:

Anime

Attack on Titan, Amensia, Death Note, Demon Slayer, Diabolik Lovers, Fruits Basket, Haikyuu!!, Hakuoki, Hunter x Hunter, Jujutsu Kaisen, Kamigami no Asobi, Naruto, Mirai Nikki, One Piece, Blood of Zeus.

Books

Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, A Song of Ice and Fire, Pegasus and The Flame of Olympus (series), IT., A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR), The Bridgertons, Twilight, The Lord of the Rings, The Cruel Prince: The Folk of the Air, The Bridgertons, Twilight.

Games

Genshin Impact, Detroit Become Human, Mystic Messenger, Time Princess Dress Up (TP: characters), Yandere Simulator, My Candy Love (Amour Sucré), Arkyos Angel, A Plague Tale.

K-Pop

BTS, BLACKPINK, GOT7, EXO, BIGBANG, TWICE, AESPA, Stray Kids, ITZY, Hyuna and Dawn, Red Velvet, NCT, Monsta X, Taemin, Dreamcatcher, LE SSERAFIM, (G)I-DLE.

Series/TV Show

Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, The Originals, The Vampire Diaries, Teen Wolf, Supernatural, Outer Banks, Friends, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Euphoria, Reign, Bridgerton, The Flash, Supergirl, Outlander, American Horror Story, Wednesday, Riverdale, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, The Sandman, Lucifer, Winx Club, Ragnarok, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, Invisible City (Cidade Invisível), Shadow and Bone, Adventure Time, The Witcher, Rebelde MX (RBD), Heartstopper, Hannibal, Criminal Minds, The Last Kingdom.

Movies

Disney Universe, Marvel Universe, DC Universe, Maze Runner, Halloween, Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Transformers, How to Train Your Dragon, Miraculous, Ever After High, Monster High, Barbie Universe, Christmas Movies, Maze Runner, Avatar, Twilight, Star Wars.

K-Dramas

My Demon, Bussiness Proposal, Doom At Your Service, Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha, Crash Landing on You, My Name, Mr Queen, King the Land.

Mythology

Greek, Egyptian, Norse Mythology and Brazilian Folklore.

Historical Characters

Alexander the Great, Cleopatra, Caesar Augustus, Julius Caesar and etc...

Additional Information

I accept payment via PayPal and Pic Pay only (PayPal = Ko-Fi)

Payment must be made before I start and I will always send you updates if you ask me.

I write in English and Portuguese.

I have a deadline of 5 to 10 days to complete your commission, however, if something unforeseen happens and it ends up being delayed, I will inform you.

If I write more than what was asked, obviously there will be no additions.

If you are interested, DM me with details and feel free to ask me anything.

#yandere #dark #yandere au #dark au #commissions #writing commissions

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godtrauma · 13 hours ago

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people who act pretentious about reader x character fic and think it’s lame/silly are the ones why make me laugh. like im sorry they’ve got hang ups but im too busy surrounded with the serotonin i get from picturing myself fucking/getting fucked by cannibal serial killer and bisexual king hannibal lecter. could be you

#aaaand post #☄️#what a banger #hannibal lecter #hannibal #reader x #there should however be an option to filter out those fics when using the tumblr search

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macherkissed · 2 years ago

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The Macherkissed Masterlist

Any Content warnings/triggers will be marked next to the work. If I miss any, just tell me and I'll make sure to correct it.

Scenarios/Headcanons;

How they react to seeing you depressed for the first time (Michael Myers, Poly!Ghostface) [CW: GN!Reader, Depression]

Befriending A Splicer Headcanons [CW: GN!Reader, Weapons Mention]

How they react to you telling them you're pregnant (Betelgeuse, Gomez & Morticia Addams, Yautja) [CW: AFAB!Reader, Pregnancy, One line mention of abortion, Smut Mention, Polyamory, Exophilia]

How they react to your new tattoo (Jason Voorhees, Tiffany Valentine, Norman Bates) [CW: GN!Reader, Tattooed Reader, Needles mention, Slight Smut mention]

Comforting you when your elderly pet is passing (Hellboy, NBC Will Graham, Venom & Eddie Brock) [CW: GN!Reader, mentions of losing a pet, possible triggering subject]

NSFW Headcanons (Mark Hoffman) [CW: GN!Reader, Smut, Fluff, Kink]

How they act with a noise sensitive SO (Betelgeuse, Hellboy, Venom, Yautja) [CW: GN!Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Exophilia]

How they react to a Shy S/O (Chucky & Tiffany, Gomez & Morticia, Alice Liddell, Nemesis) [CW: GN!Reader, Smut, Polyamory, Mentions of violence, mild-to-moderate dom/sub, mentions of sadism, Exophilia]

How they react to you going into labour (Gomez & Morticia Addams) [CW: AFAB!Reader, GN!Reader, Pregnancy, labour, pain and slight childbirth typical gore]

How he reacts to your body tremors (Jason Voorhees) [CW: GN!Reader, Disabled!Reader, Medication mention, Fluff]

Oneshots;

The Reward of Patience (Betelgeuse) [CW: AFAB!Reader, Smut, Pegging]

Wrapped Up in Pretty Ribbons (Billy Lenz) [CW: Fem!Reader, Smut, Non-Con Voyeurism, Slight Somnophilia, Choking]

Those Sweet Lips (Poly!Ghostface) [CW: Fem!Reader, Smut, Threesome, Polyamory, Oral Sex, Some M/M Action]

Recompense (Hannibal Lector) [CW: Fem!Reader, Smut, Oral Sex, Boss/Employee Relationship]

Closest of Encounters (Psycho Goreman) [CW: Fem!Reader, Mature, Kissing, Suggestive, Exophilia]

No Gods or Kings, Only Fontaine (Frank Fontaine) [CW: GN!Reader, Smut, Oral Sex, Slight D/S]

A Moment Alone (Jack Wynand) [CW: GN!Reader, Smut, Ambiguous Penetration, Unprotected Sex, No Aftercare]

Alphabets

Thel Vadam X ADHD!Reader SFW Alphabet [CW: Fem!Reader, ADHD, Fluff, Exophilia, Marriage mention]

#Masterlist #Not writing #horror x reader #slasher x reader #blog meta #slasher headcanons #slasher imagines #horror headcanons #horror imagines

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covfefeships · 9 months ago

Text

Hi there, my name is Liv!

A comprehensive list of my fics on AO3~

Undertale:

Penned To You: WIP, Mature, Horrortale Sans X Reader, Enemies to lovers

These Masks We Wear: WIP, Explicit, Underfell Papyrus X Reader, Slowburn, trauma recovery

The Emergence Day Parade: WIP, Explicit, Dead Dove, Reverse Harem-ish… Major character death

As Is Tradition: WIP, Explicit, PWPish, Horrorfell Sans & Papyrus x reader, Absolutely shameless excuse for smut, A/B/O Dynamics, omegaverse, soulmates

Ghost of you: In the works, Dust X Reader, Rating undecided

Rise of the Guardians:

To Sleep Or Not To Sleep: Complete, Teen +, Pitch X Jack

Battle Of The Coffeeshops: WIP, Teen +, Pitch X Jack, Major character death

Hannibal:

The Once Great King: WIP, Mature, Hannibal X Will, A/B/O dynamics

More info on me/my blog below the cut :)

I used to be "Ruler-of-the-ghost-zone" when I first started Tumblr (11 years ago.)

This year (2024) I moved 12 hours away from my home state, started working from home and found a lot more free time for my hobbies. As such I've decided to pick back up writing and have a lot of old and new WIPs that I am very excited to finish.

I reblog pretty much whatever, so, sorry about that :3

Feel free to drop in and say hi!

#undertale #rise of the guardians #hannibal #for my blog #Hi!!

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 5 months ago

Note

can you please do loki x reader new kink exploration?

.⋆｡Playtime｡⋆.

Loki x plus size reader

Sex with Loki isn’t boring but it isn’t exactly spicy either and you’re craving something more

Warnings: breeding kink, ownership kink, smut, mentions of other kinks, fluff, established relationship, rough sex, no real foreplay, implication of the beginning of a d/s dynamic, safe word mentioned WC: 1.4k

6k Follower Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Oh come on! We all saw the way he was when we handcuffed him, Loki is kinky as hell and you cannot tell me that you two just do missionary shit!” Natasha’s words were slurred, courtesy of the half dozen mimosas she had devoured before her meal had actually arrived.

Heat radiated off your cheeks though it wasn’t from the alcohol. “So what if we do? It’s fun!” You insisted, making Wanda roll her eyes.

“You’ve been together for almost a year and you’re saying that you haven’t even dabbled in tying him up?” You shook your head, “Tying you up?”

“No! Ok, we haven’t done anything,” you lowered your voice and glanced around the bustling restaurant, “kinky per se. But c’mon it took us years to even admit we liked each other and over two months to even get to heavy petting. We just move slowly is all.”

Natasha scoffed. “Yeah right. That man wants to utterly destroy you, he’s just being sweet because you don’t have as much experience as him. He doesn’t want to scare you off. If you want to get properly down and dirty with the man, you have to go to him first.” She said matter-of-factly as she took another swig of what was now just champagne.

You looked to Wanda for backup but she just shrugged. “She’s right. You have to make the first move.”

“But where do I even start?”

They looked at each other before turning back to you. “Tumblr.”

——————

You wondered if they ever got tired of being right. Pet play, CNC, BDSM, anal, the world was laid out in front of you and all you had to do was to find one (or two) that you really liked and beg your godly boyfriend to indulge you.

Your laptop was propped up on a pillow in front of you, a little notebook beside it that you were using to jot down anything you found even vaguely interesting. The list continued to grow as you scrolled but nothing had jumped out at you as something you desperately had to try.

“What are you up to my love?” Loki slid onto the bed beside you, his lips immediately finding your cheek. You cringed as a drop of sweat landed on your bare shoulder.

“Just doing some research. How was your workout?” He rolled his eyes and snuggled closer, his body slightly warmer than its usual icy temperature. A slim arm wrapped around your waist, his fingers just barely grazing the swell of your ass. You shifted your hips so that his palm dropped further, now fully cupping your backside. His lips curved upwards against your temple.

“I would much rather have worked out with you, love.” You shivered as his voice dropped and he squeezed your ass. “Especially when you look so delectable in this thin top.” The tip of his nose brushed against the strap of your tank top which you had paired with some thin panties.

“You are insatiable,” You suddenly smirked, turning your head so your lips were barely touching, “my king.” The last syllable had barely passed through your teeth then Loki’s eyes darkened and his lithe body tensed around you. Blunt nails dug into your ass as he held his breath for a moment, before he released it with a growl.

“You’re playing with fire, little one.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Then it’s a good thing I have you to cool me down.” Your tongue darted out and you quickly licked at his lips before Loki could digest your words.

“Oh you naughty thing.” Your laptop and notebook were shoved to the side as your boyfriend pushed you onto your back, quickly settling himself between your soft thighs, pinning you to the bed. You couldn’t help but internally preen at the god’s wavering composure. “You do not know what you’re asking for.”

Your hands trailed up the length of his back, dragging his tight black shirt up with them. “Oh but I think I do.” The way he loomed over you, the savage look in his eyes, his heaving chest, his weight keeping you down. You knew exactly what you wanted at that moment.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and tugged him against your core, the bulge of his cock knocking against your covered clit. “I want to be owned by you. Entirely.”

“But do you know what that truly means?” His hands creeped down to your hips, grabbing them with greater force than he had ever used on you before. You gasped and arched your back but he quickly pushed you back down. “It means that you’re mine, every single piece of you.” His fingers curled into the top of your panties and tugged them down with a swift roll of his shoulder.

“Loki.” He tsked, his shirt now discarded.

“Your thoughts will be mine. Your body. Your soul. Your pleasure” Your shirt soon followed, discarded on your bedroom floor then his shorts. An evil look creeped onto his face. “I will be your king, your god. You will take no other ever again.”

“Please.” You felt like you could barely breathe, the weight of his words falling heavily on your chest.

His cock throbbed against your lips, slowly becoming coating in your wetness. “This perfect, tight cunt is mine to do with what I wish.” His hips rocked back, letting his cock drop down to your entrance. Your eyes widened and you clutched at his forearms.

The thick head pushed against your opening, sending a pleasant burn through your pelvis. “If you wish for me to stop at any time, just say so.” His voice softened just enough to urge you to acknowledge him before you were plunged into his possession. You nodded quickly and raised your hips from the bed as you attempted to suckle him in.

“Mine.” He snarled, and without any warning, buried himself to the hilt, forcing a scream of pleasure from deep inside you. You clutched at the hard muscles of his back, desperate for any way to keep yourself grounded as he pulled out half-way and then slammed back in.

“Fuck, I should’ve done this the moment I met you. Wasted too much time not buried in this cunt, not claiming your womb.” You gasped, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. Loki’s lip curled up. “Oh you liked that didn’t you? You want me to put you to use.” His hips tilted, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go fuzzy.

“To breed you.” Your moans bounced off your bedroom walls, spurring the god to thrust into you even harder. “To show the entire world that you’re fucking mine. You belong to a god, you carry his seed in your belly. Who am I to ever deny you?”

He grabbed your wide hips and leaned back onto his heels. Your eyes rolled back as his tip suddenly slammed against your cervix and his heavy balls slapped against your ass. “I’ll fill you every chance I get, just to make sure it takes and you know that you are mine forever.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, surely drawing blood, but you were too lost in pleasure to even care. Your body drew tight as you found it harder and harder to breathe. “I’ll give you what you want, little one. I’ll give you everything.”

“Loki!” Your legs locked around his hips, forcing him all the way into your spamming cunt as you finally came. He groaned and dropped his head to the crook of your neck. Shallow thrusts worked you through the powerful orgasm as he raced towards his own.

“All mine.” His teeth sank into your shoulder as an icy chin spread through your stomach. You could feel his cock twitching deep within you even through the fog of ecstasy.

Loki slumped down onto your chest, finally releasing your hips as he softened inside you.

“Holy shit.” You giggled breathlessly. “Knew that list was a good idea.”

As gently as he could, your boyfriend pulled out of you and flopped onto his back, dragging your spent body on top of him. “What list?” He mumbled into your hair in between soft kisses.

“Made a list of kinky stuff I wanna try.”

“Oh? And what else was on that little list of yours?” You propped your chin up on his sternum.

“Knife play?” Loki groaned and tugged you closer.

“Gods what have I gotten myself into?” He laughed.

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