#rip my followers and mutuals who followed me for Hannibal

[ishedadordaddy]

I see some old ass man and go ‘I need him biblically’ and I’m not sure that is something therapy could fix.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Happy 6k!!!! That’s so exciting and you deserve it :)

Can I request Bucky & touch starved?

.⋆｡Small Adjustments｡⋆.

Bucky Barnes x plus size reader

To Bucky, touch brought with it pain and suffering but maybe it can be different with you

Warnings:  touch starved!Bucky, fluff, mutual pining, mention of torture, bit of hurt/comfort WC: 1.3k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was an unspoken agreement amongst the Avengers that under no circumstances was Bucky to be touched. There were one too many instances of him lashing out at even the smallest of touches and after Peter’s arm was almost broken when he grabbed Bucky’s shoulder to steady himself after tripping, the rule was firmly set in place. 

Touch had always been the harbinger of pain to Bucky. He had experienced and survived thousands of experiments; he knew the difference between acids just based on how much they burned him when they made contact with his skin. He knew what it was like to be ripped apart from the inside out as he was stitched back together while fully conscious. Bucky’s nerves were permanently scarred with each and every moment of pain, ensuring that he would never forget what he had gone through. Needless to say, he appreciated the physical distance the Avengers afforded him, even if it did make his chest ache sometimes.

He saw the friendly touches between them all— a hug after a hard mission, a clap on the back during training, even the occasional platonic cuddling during movie nights and he couldn’t help but be envious, especially when it came to you.

You were, by far, the most affectionate person he had ever met. You didn’t hesitate to wrap yourself around anyone who needed a hug, your hand was quite frequently clamped with someone else’s (Natasha’s or Wanda’s more often than not). You weren’t selfish with your touch and though it could be deadly thanks to your training, Bucky knew that you would never hurt the people you cared about.

“Barnes~ where are you!” Bucky’s lips curled into a gentle smile as your voice floated through the hallway, immediately brightening up the entire building.

“I’m in the kitchen, doll!” He shouted back before your footsteps quickened and you burst into the room. Your eyes, although still bleary with sleep even though it was 2 in the afternoon, positively sparkled as soon as you spotted the ex-assassin. Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, and you flustered slightly, looking down at what you were wearing.

“I thought I lost that shirt.” 

“Yeah well don’t leave your stuff out if you don’t want someone to steal it.” You shrugged as you skipped over to the pot of fresh coffee still sitting in the machine.

“I seem to remember putting that shirt away, in my closet, in my locked bedroom.”  Bucky took a sip of his own coffee.

“I don’t know what to tell you, I think old age is finally getting to you.” You tried to hide your warming cheeks behind your mug but he could see right through you.

“Whatever you say doll.” A comfortable silence settled over the both of you for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“So… we have the place to ourselves today,” Bucky knew what was coming, “wanna binge-watch Supernatural with me?” You looked up at him with such a hopeful expression on your face, it made his heart skip a beat.

“I don’t know, I was planning on going for a long run today.” His voice tilted up but in your post-sleep haze, you couldn’t pick up on the shift in his tone. Immediately, your eyes dropped and your bottom lip poked out. Bucky’s stomach flipped and suddenly all he wanted to do was to scoop you up into his arms and kiss away your pout. Instead, he blurted out quickly, “Hey, hey. I was just teasing. Of course I’ll watch with you. Gotta see what Sean and Dan get up to.”

You sniffed. “It’s Sam and Dean and you know it. Don’t pretend you’re not as obsessed as I am.” The band around his heart loosened.

“Yeah sure. You want Chinese or Thai?” He fished his phone out from his pocket.

“Like you even have to ask.” You retorted.

——————

You felt like you were sitting next to a feral cat as the food coma finally set in. Empty boxes of food were scattered around the coffee table in front of you while yet another episode started up but it wasn’t as if you were paying any sort of attention to the screen in front of you.

Somehow, during your feast of questionable takeout, Bucky had migrated from where he had been perched on the other side of the couch to sitting beside you, the thick muscle of his thigh almost touching your knee where you were curled up. His blue eyes stayed glued to the TV while he sighed heavily and leaned back into the couch cushions.

You held your breath as his shoulders dropped, leaving barely an inch of space between you. This was the closest Bucky had ever gotten to you and you would be damned if you fucked this up. Of course you knew about his aversion to touch, you had even witnessed his violent response to it first hand but Jesus did you want to feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his body as he hugged you.

Bucky was undoubtedly your best friend out of all the Avengers yet he was the only one to have never felt your embrace. 

Your body trembled as you tried to keep yourself still. You didn’t want to accidentally brush against him and send him scrambling off but you also didn’t want to move away and give him the impression that you didn’t want him near you. And selfishly, you did want him beside you if only to fuel your hopeless crush on the man. 

There was a gunshot on the screen, startling you. You jumped and suddenly, you were half on top of Bucky. 

Your palm spread across the expanse of his stomach, letting you feel the hardness of his abs and the warmth that radiated off of him. The tip of your nose brushed against his as your eyes locked. You both stayed there for a second before the reality of the situation hit you squarely in the chest.

“Oh god Bucky I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You threw yourself back against the arm of the couch as panic bubbled up in your gut. Bucky remained frozen where he sat, both his hands slightly raised as he looked down at his lap. “Bucky I-“ Your voice was thick with tears. 

You shook your head as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, desperately trying to keep them away. How stupid were you? You knew you should’ve just given him some more space, paid attention to the TV so you would know if something would startle you. Do literally anything else besides jumping on the man with severe trauma. You messed everything up.

“Doll,” Bucky cooed as his hand gently wrapped around your wrists, slowly pulling them down so he could look at you, “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” He chuckled softly, now bringing your hands into his lap so he could hold them.

“How could I ever be mad at you? I know it was an accident but more than that, I know you would never want to hurt me. I’m safe with you.” You could feel the slight tremble in his hands like he was struggling to keep touching you but Bucky refused to let go, he even shuffled closer to you. You nodded but stayed quiet. He finally smiled. “Besides, I think it’s time I got one of those famous Y/N hugs. Not now of course, I’m way too fucked up for that, but soon.”

“Don’t be mean to yourself Barnes,” you scolded, “lots of people hurt you. You get to be patient with healing. We just make small adjustments, build up to it y’a know.”

“Yeah, small adjustments.” His right hand slid into your left, your fingers intertwining as you both melted back into the couch, your eyes drifting back to your show that neither of you would be paying any attention to. After a few minutes, Bucky’s thumb began to rub against the skin of your knuckles, a delicate back and forth that both sent a flurry of butterflies into flight in your stomach and ignited your cheeks with a blazing heat.

Small adjustments indeed.

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[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

[hotgirlsummersam]

Tagged by @fallcolorspringrapid in this getting-to-know-my-blog game, thanks bestie! <3

1. why did you choose your url?

I’ve been using this name or some version of it since like...2003? I ripped the name off from a manga I was into as a kid because I wanted to sound like an edgy witch boy. I changed one of the letters, at least.

2. any sideblogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

Yep, I’m a mod over at SPN Trope Round Robin. I’ve been thinking of making a sideblog for my photography also? And one for my thoughts about novelty junk food (i.e. Sour Patch Kids cereal) because I get a kick out of that stuff.

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

Since October 2020, but I wasn’t very active until December when I got back into the trenches of the Supernatural fandom.

4. do you have a queue tag?

Nope, I don't really use my queue - I do things like this:

:)

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I was deep, deep into Hannibal fanfic on AO3 and a bunch of writers I liked linked to their tumblrs and I thought, "why not?" I'd never really used tumblr before then.

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It’s just a cutesy little cartoon version of me that I made with an app:

(I don't actually have my lip pierced but there was no eyebrow or septum option and I wanted accessories. There was also no mohawk option. Anyway it me.)

7. why did you choose your header?

I just really like bees? 🐝 I'm very into semi-realistic black-and-white bug art right now.

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

It’s exactly tied between the Sam/Dean queerplatonic bootlicking movement (which has its own collection on AO3) and my wincest wedding comparative that I made with bits from Sacrifice (my beloved) and lyrics from my favorite White Stripes song.

9. how many mutuals do you have?

Uh. Like 80 or so? 🤷‍♂️ Cherish all of you even if I don't want to count.

10. how many followers do you have?

123. I am baby.

11. how many people do you follow?

429. Like a quarter of them are art blogs.

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

Who, little old me? I would never. ☺️

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

Far, far too often. I'm an obsessive checker, and since I barely use my queue because it's finicky and I'm weird about posting order I have to waste time dealing with that.

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

Does this count? I think my arguments were compelling.

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Hate them.

16. do you like tag games?

I love them! Sometimes I forget to do them or don’t have the energy but I always appreciate the thought. <3

17. do you like ask games?

Same as above - I’ve had asks languishing in my inbox for months about my WIPs and for that I do apologize, but I love getting them. <3

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Hm...I almost dropped dead when @quickreaver started following me back. She's one of my favorite artists and has Very Good Taste. 👌

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

Oh I don’t knowwwww... 😏😏😏 Okay, yes, my partner @venhedish and a couple others.

20. tags?

Oh jeez, uh. Who hasn't gone? I'll tag @quickreaver again, @ohnoitsthebat, @queerfables, @uttermywish, @tintentrinkerin, @fandom-hoarder, @las-lus, @samsbighonkintiddies, @redmyeyes (and whoever else wants to because if I didn't tag you I still love you) go wild pals

[hufflepuff-ravenclaw-reviews]

Discovery of Witches Season 1 Episode 1

Yes, this is the TV series based off of that horrible book trilogy. People who follow my book blog will remember that I snarked it and had the absolute worst time.

Forget the Fifty Shades... sextet (It's a sextet now, not a trilogy). The All Souls Trilogy is, hands down, the absolute worst thing that I have ever had the misfortune to read.

But Ravenclaw, if you hated the book so much, why did you watch even one episode of the TV series?

All me curious, I suppose.

Going into the episode, my opinion is already pretty rock bottom. I'm expecting a lot of padding, if only because the book was 90% unnecessary bullshit that literally anybody should have told Harkness to cut out.

When they first announced that they were making the series, I joked with my friends that half of the TV show was just going to be Diana disassociating for half an hour as she stared at a sconce and explained how this light fixture once belonged to Henry VIII or whatever. BECUASE THAT'S HOW IT HAPPENS IN THE BOOK.

However, the TV series, as you might imagine, takes some... er... liberties. Already in the first episode, characters are introduced differently, and new POVs are introduced as well. If only because... No, Harkness. We don't want to see Diana dramatically pushing down the lever on the toaster. JFC why.

The show starts off pretty much like in the book: Meet Diana Bishop, who has a doctorate in magical history. She's a witch, but she's not very good at it.

In the book, especially right in the beginning before Harkness figured out what the fuck she was doing, Diana's magic waffled between “I WANT TO BE HUMAN SO I REFUSE TO USE MAGIC!!” and “I AM SHIT AT MAGIC SO I TRY TO AVOID DOING IT WHENEVER POSSIBLE.”

However, right off the bat, Diana talks with her friend, Jillian, and says that she has a lot of lingering PTSD from her parents being murdered because of their magic. Which is fair.

And it's also way more character development than Diana got in literally 15000 pages of trash Harkness wrote.

Diana calls up the famed Ashmole 742 (or as I took to calling it “Asshole 747”), of which the entire series revolves around.

See, literally every magical creature thinks that this book is somehow the answer to all of their problems. They all want it because they think that it's going to share the secrets of how they came to be. And they don't want the other magical species to get their hands on it because they think that the secrets inside will tell the other species how to destroy them.

And as I write this, I think to myself “There can be no winners in a scenario like this. Just mutual destruction over a fucking book.” But whatever.

Oh, and in case you need to be caught up, there are three magical species: witches, vampires, and daemons. I'm using the spelling from the book, because, in my mind, they were not the same thing as “demons”. In fact, I'm pretty sure that the book went out of its way to assure us that “daemons” had not crawled up from hell, etc etc. In fact, I even pronounced it like “day-mons”. The series, however, seems to think that “daemon” and “demon” would be too confusing, and has resorted back to just plain old demon.

First off... let me express my discomfort over the entire library scene. Diana goes in, tells the guy at the desk that she wants such and such books and gives him the call slips. He sends the slips down to where the really old books are stored. And it's interesting to see. But then the lady goes and she just... “Lol, here's this book! And let me grab this other book.” She stacks them up on her chest like they weren't four-plus centuries old. And if we were talking about copies of Harry Potter or whatever, I don't think that I would give two shits. BUT THESE ARE OLD, PRICELESS, ONE OF A KIND BOOKS. AND SHE'S TREATING THEM LIKE THEY'RE 98TH EDITIONS OF HARRY POTTER.

And then the guy goes over to give them to Diana, and he's like “Well, here you go.” and just kind of... tosses them onto her workspace. And Diana starts to look at the Asshole 747.

And not a single person handles any of these books with gloves, either. Diana even touches these old pages with her bare hands, which can't possibly be good for the pages or ink. And in one scene, she even forcefully rips a page apart from the one below it, which had sort of become stuck with the ink.

WHY.

Anyway, as Diana actually looks at the book, it's a very interesting special effect as all of the words swirl around on the page.

However, true to the book, Diana freaks out and quickly returns the book. However, unlike in the book, Diana thinks that she sees her father, and she has a complete and utter panic attack over the entire thing.

She later calls her aunt, who is more angry that Diana returned what is clearly a dangerous magical item rather than to investigate further... Rather than the obvious fact that it's clear that Diana is spiraling into some kind of psychosis what with seeing her father and having nightterrors.

Because priorities.

Also much like in the book, all of the magical species in the area were somehow alerted to Diana calling up the book. And I'm willing to let it slide, if only because MAGIC.

Jillian kicks off her subplot by her telling the head of the local coven about this. The head then calls up the witchy president, who's some old fat guy and I cannot remember his name for the life of me. He also brings along Satu. We were rather rudely introduced to Satu as old fat guy went to get her in Finland. And she murdered the random human that the old fat guy brought along with him.

HAHAHA, BECAUSE NOTHING SAYS 'I WANT YOU TO RULE ME' QUITE LIKE STARTING OFF YOUR REIGN BY MURDERING PEOPLE. HAHAHAHAHAHA /sarcasm

However, as this is likely going to be a long series (if it goes the full length of the books and isn't canceled in the meantime, which maybe it will be if the rest of the episodes are this awkward with clunky dialogue as this first episode), then Jillian's plot is just kicking off. We don't spend much time on it.

However, we do introduce Marcus, who is Matthew's vampire son. (Not to be confused with a biological son. They're vampires, for fuck's sake.) Marcus's friend was hit by a car, and he died almost instantly. Marcus felt bad about the entire thing and tried to turn his friend, only for the vampire mojo to not work at all.

Later, Matthew picks Marcus up from the police station, and completely reams Marcus out for... trying to help his friend. It's a head scratcher, but don't linger too much on it.

Matthew is, however, insanely insistent that the answers to why they suddenly cannot create any new vampires lies in Asshole 747.

So, he starts to literally stalk Diana. And, granted. This is very accurate to how things were in the book. Except, Diana was kind of like “Oh no, he's hot!” about the entire thing. We never saw what Matthew was thinking, because the books were written from Diana's first person POV. But... in the TV series, he comes off less like a smarter and more mature Edward Cullen and more like... Hannibal Lecter. Yeah, you trust him a little if only because he's good looking and smart. But at the same time, you're getting some seriously creepy “He's going to cut out my spleen and put it in soup and feed me the soup before he kills me for real.” vibes from him. Ugh.

It's the complete opposite of romantic, if you ask me. At least the Twilight movies tried to make Edward look like not the kind of person who breaks into a girl's bedroom to watch her sleep. With Discovery of Witches, no such attempt to de-creep-ify Matthew is ever made.

All in all, the episode seemed to drag on forever. Too many subplots were introduced too quickly. The dialogue was clunky and it felt overly forced. Especially from Diana. The actual academic side of the episode was so cringy that I literally wanted to cry and write an angry letter to whoever the fuck wrote this bullshit.

But, the simple fact that it's really, REALLY hard to talk about a pencil for three pages or bricks or the dorm where Diana's staying or her fucking hairbrush means that half of what made the All Souls Trilogy so unbelievably unbearable is instantly cut for more actual plot.

It wasn't nearly as horrible as I was expecting. And I'm as surprised as you are. I've seen way worse things. And the fact that I kind of want to see the second episode just to see where they're going to take this vs how the book was is always a good sign for a show.

Especially one as awful as All Souls Trilogy was.  

[victorineb]

The Mark of the Lamb

A birthday fic for my lovely @tcbook, who has been incredibly patient given that this is an entire month late. I hope you enjoy, honey <3

It is one year and two months since the Dragon, the cliff, and blood in the moonlight. Since Will pulled Hannibal into the water and dragged him back out again with the same stubborn determination.

One year and one month since Hannibal awoke to Will's deathless phrase, “Oh thank fuck, took you long enough.”

Five months since they were both healed enough to move to one of Hannibal's overseas safe houses.

Three months since Hannibal first kissed Will, tentatively until Will grabbed the back of his head and turned it filthy and desperate, pausing only to murmur, “Thank fuck, took you long enough.”

Two weeks since making out and mutual masturbation stopped being enough for Will.

And exactly a minute and a half since Will communicated this opinion to Hannibal.

From downstairs in the tastefully (in Hannibal's opinion) over-decorated (in Will's) villa, there is a crash of furniture, followed by a snarl of frustration.  

“If I ever find the guy who invented button flies, I'm gonna slit his throat and request clever bastard casserole for dinner.”

This is followed by an indulgent chuckle, and Hannibal's voice, slightly ragged but soothing, saying, “You were the one who suggested adding some more casual items to my wardrobe. However, we can stop while I retrieve some scissors and you may cut me out of them, if you wish.”

There is silence for a moment, and then a slightly thoughtful declaration that, “Ok, that's something we're gonna revisit, but right now just get these off yourself, Doctor Steady Hands, while I rip this stupid shirt off.”

“Yes, dear.”

Read the rest on AO3.

[peppermintvader]

Tagged by @darthplodder thank you so much!!❣️❣️❣️

Assignment: promote some of your favorite works that you've written and tagg other so that other writers/artists can promote their work as well! Because everyone should feel pours of the work they've written!😊

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302823

A collection of tumblr prompts from this tumblr and my sideblog! It has three prompt fills so far (I'm working on the prompts sitting in my asks box rip I'll get to them and finish them when I get done with finals)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6911680

This one was the first fic I've ever written, it's not a fix it fic but it has the team as Sith and they do get a happy ending! The team have always been sith and the galaxy never stood a chance.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9084694

This one is a Hannibal/Will Exorcist AU fic. It's a one shot and has Hannibal as a demon who occasionally helps Will who's an exorcist. 😊

I'm also working on the Empire AU, where Obi-Wan turned to the dark side after having a vision and Anakin follows him.

There's also the Sugar Baby AU, where Anakin and Obi-Wan meet a party Anakin is waiter in and Obi-Wan is attending. They all into a relationship (and maybe accidentally fall in love along the way in theirs arrangement)

The Not Soulmates AU, a modern au where Obi-Wan and Anakin meet and become friends and fall in love, except that they don't have matching soulmate identifying marks.

The Bookstore AU a Christmas present fic I'm writing for @enbycupcake 💕, a modern au where Anakin owns a bookstore and is the biggest fan of Ben Jinn who's a famous author. Obi-Wan stops by his bookstore one day and meets Anakin and criticizes Anakin's favorite book by Ben, thing is Anakin has no idea Obi-Wan is actually Ben and they accidentally fall in love along the way.

There's also the Assassins AU: Obi-Wan and Anakin are ex lovers who are both assassins and have to work together again after years of not seeing each other and both find that they're not over each other.

The Royals AU :I'm writing as a gift for I can't say much cause it's a surprise but Anakin is the crown prince and Obi-Wan is his knight body guard sort of game of thrones fusion. 😊@skywalker-anakin

Wait for me AU : I've been promising @skywclkrs for forever rip I promise I haven't forgotten!!! In which Obi-Wan is an army surgeon and asks Anakin to wait for him and they exchange letters, waiting to be reunited again.

BreakUp Artist AU: where Obi-Wan and Anakin were childhood sweethearts and broke up after growing apart. Obi-Wan is a famous singer and Anakin either a famous artist or author and they both get invited to a mutual friends wedding and disn that they still each other and fall back in love and find that they're not the same people the once were.

The Model and Photographer AU: I'm writing for @jerseytigermoth Anakin is a model and Obi-Wan is the new photographer and they find themselves becoming smitten with each other through coffee and photos and runway shows.

Tagging: @writegowrite @fireflyfish @jerseytigermoth @darthcuddles @skymurdock @skywclkrs @glare-gryphon @icsek and anyone else who wants to do this just say I tagged you cause I would love to read y'all's works! As always you don't have to do this if you don't want to!

[cerseilionesslannister]

HOW DO YOU RUN YOUR BLOG?

SPEED: as far as posting speed goes? currently two times a day via queue; i adjust as needed to ensure my blog stays active. as far as writing speed goes? it varies wildly. some days i can write ten multipara replies and ten memes and get them all queued or posted. other days i do nothing at all. you’re all probably aware by now ( bc i never stop talking about it lmfao the suffering is real -- also bc it’s in my rules ) that i’m chronically ill and every day is kind of a roll of the dice as far as how good/bad i’ll feel; on bad days, it’s really hard to sit down and focus properly on writing, so i’d rather wait for the good days when i can guarantee that my replies will be high quality than push myself into half-assing things every day. REPLIES / STARTERS: i do starter calls every so often; typically i’ll send an im to anyone who’s interested to plot things out, as i prefer threads to be at least loosely plotted. replies come as soon as i can get them written and queued. right now i’m working my way through my drafts from the bottom of the folder up to ensure people who have been waiting longer get their replies first. INBOX: posted as i complete them. ooc questions and headcanons typically get answered immediately; ic memes typically get spread out over a matter of days unless they’re very short and simple to answer ( simply to avoid cluttering my blog + the dash ). SELECTIVITY: for the most part, i’m mutuals-only. i am willing to work cersei into any number of crossover verses or alternate timelines, but i won’t roleplay any plots i feel she would be unlikely to be part of, and i won’t follow any blogs that post unwarranted or particularly lurid hate of my muse, excessive amounts of ooc negativity/drama or vague/passive aggressive posts, untagged triggering content ( if i see it on my dash, i’ll ask politely one time bc i know that when one follows a lot of blogs it can be hard to keep straight everyone’s rules on what they need tagged. after that it’s an instant unfollow ) etc. etc.  WISHLIST: literally every c.ersei/j.aime plot that could ever be conceived of ever. c.ersei/r.amsay plots ( gently stares at @taintedblccd ). alternate timelines where joffrey lives ( gently stares at @petyrlover69 ). crossovers with the borgias, hannibal nbc/the hannibal lecter books, crimson peak, harry potter, dexter, the chronicles of narnia, house of cards, etc. general happy alternate timelines bc??? cersei doesn’t have a very happy life canonically lmfao. HONEST NOTE: i believe in the mantra “do no harm but take no shit”. i try very hard to keep my blog a positive place and believe in handling ooc issues privately, through open communication from both ends -- it’s enough to solve 90% of problems. i will not tolerate the other 10% whatsoever, though. this includes things like misogyny/racism/homophobia/ableism/etc., emotional manipulation/abuse, general assholery, and rp-specific things such as failing to respect my muse ( ooc, of course -- i’m not here to godmod, but i won’t tolerate excessive cersei hate as mentioned earlier ) or my interpretation of her, demanding plots that make me uncomfortable or undermine the character work i’ve done with cersei, etc. etc. i am a kind and loyal person and do my best to be a positive force in the rp community, but i will not hesitate to stand up for myself and my muse if needed.

REPOST, DON’T REBLOG!

Tagged by: @wineinthewidow​ and someone else i can’t remember and feel bad about? i went way back in my likes to try to find it and can’t remember who else tagged me??? i think it might have been @hecantbekilled​ but i might also be wrong about that rip. Tagging: everyone who wants to! just say i tagged you :3

[empathyeatings]

list of RP favourites and least favourites !  tagged by: @rosecrime​ and @vicemirrored + i’m tagging: all my mutuals (who would like to / haven’t yet) !

first name: i go by adder (nickname). 

favorite fcs to play: whatever suits the muse best. 

favorite ship you’ve ever had: it has to be with @bcnquet.

favorite fandom you’ve been in: ... idk, i’m not an active participant in fandoms. i would say the hannibal mini-fandom re: the RP community me n a few others have created around here and in the server. 

favorite song to give you muse: anything from my autoplay or in my bookmarks folder of music for will. it really depends on what mood i’m going for but usually emotional and dark music is best.

least favorite fcs to play/play against: so long as it’s not a youtuber or something like that i really don’t care !  also i won’t write with will’s fc. 

least favorite rp experience: these past few months (c. nov - now) people have been ripping off my old theme backgrounds and codes,emulating my graphics / psds after i make them icons and generally just following me and then deciding they want to use the same fc, write will or turn something of mine into a trend. nearly every ( 2 /) week(s) something has been cropping up re: taking things away from my blog that only benefit them or plagiarizing my writing straight up, lifting writing, mannerisms etc in continuity that is very specific to will for similar muses. * i will notice, i do every time ! so being around can be souring at times but i enjoy writing will and talking to my friends too much to let people steal from me (i have statcounter so i know that way too) and leave my blog. 

least favorite genre of writing: for will the most wrong-feeling thing to write is ‘fluff’. for the right muse, i have nothing against it, but it’s actually cringe-worthy seeing will graham in situations like that (i.e. domestic, sunshine-y relationships etc) because it’s so unrealistic. i can appreciate will in light-hearted situations, just not cutesy, dating fandom type !

least favorite fandom you’ve been in: idk, again not really been in fandoms.

least favorite thing people assume about your character:  that he ‘turned into a psychopath’ (he remained himself to the very end and he only killed in self-defense) and that his abuse/mental illness/feelings are invalid (he’s able to think like serial killers, doesn’t mean he is one. writers do the same thing) !

other characters you’d like to play:  i’m currently creating another blog so other than that ... i’m not so interested. i have one oc idea that i’ve had since around dec/jan but eh maybe ... !

muse preferences

females / males / canons / ocs / corrupted / good / live action / animated / human / supernatural / other species / hopeless romantic / averse to love / younger (15-25) / older (25+) / easy for you to relate to / hard for you to relate to.

plot ideas

accidentally married / affairs / age gaps / angst / apocalypse / arranged marriage / boarding school / college roommates / criminals / enemies to lovers / enemies with benefits / exes / fake relationship / fluff / forbidden relationship / friends with benefits / online relationships / pregnancy / prison / professor/student / road trips / rich kids / royalty / smut / supernatural / toxic relationships.

possible triggers in plots you’re okay with

abuse / bdsm / daddy kink / drinking / drugs / dub-con / gore / incest / kidnapping / murder / non-con / prostitution / stepcest / stockholm syndrome / torture.

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

None Know You Like Yourself (Cisco meets Reverb)

Characters: Cisco (Earth 1 & 2)

Universe: DC, Flash

Warnings: None

This is instead of the Hannibal X Cisco!

First Cisco’s alarm failed to go off, then he couldn’t find his jacket, so had to leave without it, then his cell phone died so he couldn’t call ahead to tell the team he would be late. Then there was magically no taxis so he ran there instead, getting soaked by the rain on the way.

He finally got to STAR labs and rushed in, dragging his feet and breathing heavy. “Sorry I’m late… luck isn’t on my side today.” He commented with a chuckle, hoping to laugh it off, but no one talked. He looked up and saw everyone staring at him.

“Cis what are you talking about? You were right here with your vibe glasses on, early to work. Where are they?” Barry pointed out. Cisco stood up straight, and shook his head.

“Guys, my alarm didn’t go off and I ran here, I just got here.” He told them. “Whoever that was- that wasn’t me.” He told them. The whole team was quick to start after the guy, and Cisco sighed and followed as well.

Eventually they found the culprit and Barry pinned him and brought him back to the labs before he could cause any trouble. Ripping the glasses off him, they came to realise who was behind the glasses.

Cisco.

They looked at him, and then back at the other one. “Wait… what?” Cisco asked, looking at the one pinned on the floor… him pinned on the floor.

“Earth 2 I’m guessing?” Barry asked.

“Guess right.” Cisco on the floor said.

“Why are you here?” Harrison asked.

“I need the Vibe glasses.” He answered. Let’s call him Francisco, and the one from this world, Cisco.

“Why?” Cisco asked.

“Mine got destroyed, that’s why!” Francisco yelled at him, trying to fight back. Quickly the team came to a mutual decision to lock Francisco up till they could get him back to Earth 2.

Cisco kept staring at his double that was staring right back from behind the glass. It made him uncomfortable, for several reasons. One, it’s him- well, kind of… and two… he’s evil. Cisco found himself walking up to his double. “Why?” He asked, catching Francisco off guard.

“Why what?” He asked.

“Why use your powers for evil? Why not save people?” He asked. It surprised him that he could be evil, in any alternate universe at all. Francisco looked away.

“None of your business.” He snapped coldly.

“Is it power?” Cisco asked, and by the way Francisco peeked up at him, he knew he was right. “What’s the point of power if people don’t respect you? If you have more enemies than allies then you’re power would be short lived by people trying to take it away from you. You can get power by being good and people will love you.” He explained to Francisco. “Just… keep that in mind.” He said and walked away to continue helping to get Francisco to his world.

As time passed all Francisco could think about was what Cisco had said. It was stuck in his head and he actually considered it. He thought about it… maybe he was right. He watched behind the glass as Cisco talked and laughed with his friends… people he could trust.

“Alright, come on out Reverb, time to head home.” Harrison informed the villain, opening his cell. Cisco presented a metal band and put it around his wrist.

“You’re right.” Francisco admitted, making Cisco look up. “It’s better to have friends than enemies.”

Cisco smiled. “It might take a while for them to trust you… but once they see you mean well, trust me, it’ll be worth it.” Cisco told him.  He took a step back, and the two shared a small smile, before Francisco disappeared.

Let’s hope he actually listens.

Thank you for reading, sorry it’s short, I couldn’t really think of a long story line for it, hope you don’t mind.

If you have any questions or requests, please send them in!

*Not my gif

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 6

So we’re slowly but surely getting into the Hannigram shit I promised.

Someone with murderous intent finds y/n just as she thinks her life is beginning to improve. Little does she know, it will. 

@deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovadokren here you go homies

Trigger warnings: Suicide bombing, graphic descriptions of violence, gun violence, death, cults, cult manipulation

You waited until he had left the restaurant to read that all-important scrap of paper. For some reason, you felt the need to hide in the bathroom to read it. It was probably just a name and phone number, but your brain was anticipating some kind of love letter. 

You carefully unfolded the receipt like it was your most treasured possession. Inside, it simply read ‘Hannibal Lecter’ followed by a phone number. 

You hugged the paper against your chest and a huge smile overtook your face. You couldn’t attach any rhyme or reason to why you suddenly felt so alive, other than you were completely and utterly infatuated. You felt like you could break into song. 

“Hey, [F/N]!” Charissa said, banging on the stall door. “Not to interrupt whatever this is, but could you take out the trash please?” 

“Oh.” You answered, your voice cracking. “Yeah. I’ll be right there.” 

Charissa trailed close behind you as you collected the bags from each can around the restaurant. She was uncharacteristically quiet, probably waiting for you to start spilling every detail of your night. The joke was on her, because you could let the silence go on forever. She wasn’t getting a word out of you. 

“So you’re not going to tell me?” She sounded deeply offended. 

“What’s to tell?” You said, hoisting a very full garbage bag over your shoulder. “Nothing happened.” 

“He sunk his teeth into you, didn’t he?” Charissa asked. At this point, you weren’t sure if she meant it metaphorically or literally. “That’s why you’re acting all, y’know, not downright miserable?” 

“Is that how I act usually?” You began to make your way to the back.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but,” She prefaced. “You basically have two moods. Depressed and customer-service happy, which is just depressed with a facelift. And whatever is happening here doesn’t fit into either of those categories. So something happened.” 

“Detective Charissa Rodriquez does it again.” You rolled your eyes and put one hand on the back door. “Some things just have to stay between a bartender and her... possible love interest.”

You punctuated the last sentence with a wink, sending your friend into a righteous fury. 

“Holy shit, [F/N]!” She exclaimed, smacking her hands together. “Come on, [F/N], I’m your best friend. You’ve got to let me in.” 

“I’m still trying to process what happened myself.” You said in earnest. “Believe me, if I’m telling anyone, it’s you.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Charissa wagged her finger. 

You tightened your grip on the garbage bag and lugged it outside. The night had fallen, and the orchestra of cicadas and crickets was in full swing. The warm pre-summer air welcomed you. As much as you resented her for bringing it up, Charissa was right. You hadn’t been truly happy in a very long time. And, as terrifying as the thought may have seemed, in a way, you owed it to Chase Mulvaney. 

You hauled the garbage bag into the dumpster and slammed it shut. The crash echoed and you turned back towards the door. 

Someone grabbed your arm. Your immediate thought was that it was just Charissa playing a cruel joke, but then they twisted it back and shoved you against the wall. You felt the cold blade of a knife against your neck and you froze up. 

“You didn’t repent.” A manic voice hissed into your ear. You could feel your heartbeat against the cold brick wall. The hands that bound you were soft and the voice was much more female. This was noticeably not Chase. 

You sputtered as you tried to articulate any of your thousands of questions. “Who the fuck are you?!” 

“Silence, she-devil!” The girl slammed you against the wall. “Keep your forked tongue between your teeth or I’ll cut it out!”

Her voice and hands shook and she enunciated as if she were reading off a script with a gun to her head. The adrenaline turned to genuine fear when you felt something hard strapped to her midriff. You knew in that moment that she wasn’t going to use the knife. 

"I thought Chase wanted to kill me himself." You muttered.

“Did you really think vanguard would be stupid enough to come back here?!” She forced a laugh but her voice was broken with fear. 

“Yes.” You said back, resigning to at least die with honor. “And, why is Chase the one in charge?!” 

She tightened her grip on your arm and smashed your head against the wall. “Don’t you dare talk about vanguard that way!”

He ripped off his cult leader title from fucking NXIVM? You thought, fully aware that it could easily be your last thought ever. 

“No, but seriously, think about it!” You implored her, hoping that if you got her talking, she wouldn’t hit the detonator. If there was one thing you knew about evangelicals, it was that they loved to hear themselves talk. “Chas- er, vanguard attacked me in broad daylight in front of dozens of witnesses. You’re smarter than he is! You came after me when I was alone in the dark!” 

“Everything he does, he does for a reason.” She shouted. "It's not the unwoman's place to question vanguard!"

“Oh god, now he’s ripping off Handmaid’s Tale?” You said out loud this time.

“Vanguard told me that you would try to fill my head with lies!” She growled. “So long as you are alive, you stand in the way of god’s work! You spread only falsehoods about our savior!” 

“Is this about the TattleCrime article?” You ask. “Because I didn’t say anything about god, I only talked about--” 

Then it hit you, again. “Oh, so this is a cult cult.”

"It's not a cult!" The girl screamed. This was the first time you'd sensed any genuine emotion behind her words. "Vanguard takes good care of us. And he can take care of you, too [F/N] [L/N]."

"By sending someone to kill me?" You spat.

"No!" The girl exclaimed. "No, no, no, no, no! Silly! I'm here to save you. If you repent now, and let Jesus Christ into your heart, your earthly shackles will be broken!"

"And what's in it for you, huh?" You struggled against her grip. "The privilege of blowing yourself up for Chase Mulvaney?"

"I was a sinful being like you, once." She said. "My grand reward is to give my life to save another."

You heard the click of a gun behind you. “Put the knife down and take off the vest!” 

The girl grabbed you by the neck and turned you to face this approaching foe. She held the knife to your throat. “If you shoot, she’s dead.” 

You couldn’t make out the details of his face, because he was backlit by headlights. You could, however, see the face of your captor. She was completely emaciated with bones protruding from her skin. Her head was sloppily shaved and whatever instrument she used to shave it left deep cuts on her scalp. 

She reached a shaky hand into her pocket and pulled out a detonator. Tears streaming down her face, she began to chant. “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

The man let off a shot, sending a bullet into her leg. She fell backwards, dropping the detonator and the knife and giving you an opportunity to run. The man gestured for you to get behind him and you obliged. He then let off a second shot, this bullet hitting her right through the skull. The girl collapsed backwards, her brain matter painting the side of the building. 

The man dropped his gun, mumbled something about a bomb squad into his phone, then turned to you. Finally, you could get a good look at his face. Immediately, you noticed his rich brown curls and a smattering of scruff around his jaw. His features were soft, comforting even. But a long enough examination of his face told you that he was just as deeply haunted as you were. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, weakly.

“You...” You said over desperate gasps for air. “You saved me.”

Soon enough, the first responders joined you. But for a few minutes, it was just you, the man and some unspoken mutual understanding words couldn't articulate.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 10

Cult girl and Hannibal hit a bump in the road with the adoptive couple.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: pregnancy and childbirth, misogynistic language

“A girl!” Archie exclaimed, trying to smother his smile with his hand and failing. He squeezed Max’s hand so hard, you could hear his knuckles cracking. “Max, we’re going to have a daughter.” 

"Don't get excited yet, babe." Max said, clenching his fist trying to heed his own advice. "We still have another trimester and a half. A lot of things could go wrong."

"Ah, so you're a pessimistic pragmatist!" Hannibal said, bringing in a few wine glasses and a bottle. "A common symptom of general anxiety."

"Can you at least try to not psychoanalyze our guests within the first ten minutes?" You laughed.

"I could, but it would make for a dreadfully boring evening." Hannibal said with a smirk. He effortlessly popped the cork out of the bottle. "Champagne, gentlemen?"

"Please and thank you." Max said, reaching for a glass.

Archie playfully swatted his husband's arm, maybe a little too forcefully. Max retracted. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"I'd say it's pretty rude to drink when the lady of the house can't." He folded his arms and looked back at Hannibal. "No thanks, Dr. Lecter."

Hannibal smiled and began to pour. "I admire your dedication to politeness, Mr. Thomas-Park, but I insist."

Max accepted the champagne. "See, he insists."

"Oh, come on." Archie gestured to you. "Don't be a shit. She's not drinking so I'm not drinking either."

"We aren't?" Max raised his eyebrows and smirked. "My dearest, yesterday you drank your weight in rumchata rootbeer floats to see if the caffeine and alcohol would balance each other out."

"Well, did it?" You asked.

Archie's face grew hot. "...no."

"I'll have to try it myself, once I get this parasite out of me." You said, sipping on your water and feeling, admittedly, a bit contemptuous that everyone else could drink.

"And does the parasite have a name?" Hannibal asked. "Have you considered it?"

Archie and Max exchanged glances. "We were thinking... Theresa Anne."

You choked on your water. The couple looked at you in surprise. You coughed, trying to find a way to make your objections known in the nicest way possible.

You pursed your lips. "Can you maybe pick a different name?"

"Well, it's not set in stone, of course." Max pushed his glasses up his nose. "Why?"

"Theresa and Anna..." You placed your water glass on the table. "Those are my cousins' names. They made my life absolutely miserable."

Archie's eyes widened. "Oh man, I'm sorry. If we had known-"

You shook your head. "There was no way you could have known-"

"Could you possibly, maybe think about it a different way?" Max piped up, his voice noticeably harder. "Like, we're naming our daughter after Mother Theresa?"

"Excuse me?" You raised an eyebrow.

"You're excused." Max countered.

Archie put his hand on his husband's shoulder. "Max, don't-"

"--I just don't believe you should get final say in what we name our daughter."

You took a step back. "You can believe whatever you want, but you're not the one growing a human from scratch, are you?"

"Max, it's fine." Archie cut in. "We can pick another name."

"With the amount of money we're paying you, I should hope I get to at least name my child what I want."

Hannibal was noticeably not holding you back. You briefly looked over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of him just standing aside, watching you. Observing you.

"I don't think you get it." You clenched your teeth. "I am not being torn apart and rearranged inside to make a new woman for some pompous finance bro to name her after the person who tortured me all my life."

Max crossed his arms. "And I'm not paying a sugar baby for her opinion on what I get to name my daughter."

"Max!" Archie scolded.

You shoved past him and headed for the kitchen. Suspended by a magnet on the fridge was a check for fifty thousand dollars. You snatched it down and brought it back to the dining room.

"You absolutely are not." You said, ripping up the check in front of him.

Archie winced in anguish as he watched the little pieces of paper flutter to the ground.

"Thank you for inviting us." Max said, through gritted teeth. "But we have to go."

"Yes. Yes you do." You said, trying your best to imitate Hannibal's face-melting glare.

You watched the two of them leave. Hannibal began to follow, but you grabbed his arm and kept him at your side. You wanted to let these ones leave.

"Shame." Hannibal said. "I quite enjoyed their company."

The next while was spent in mutually uncomfortable silence you hesitated to break. Hannibal did it himself.

"Would it be racially insensitive to turn Max into a Korean stone bowl dish?" Hannibal, whom you'd just noticed was flipping through a cookbook, posed.

You turned the sink off and placed the freshly-cleaned wine glass on the drying rack. "I don't want to eat Max."

"That's quite unlike you, darling." He said with surprise. "You usually love eating chauvanist pricks like him."

You groaned to convey that at least on some level, you agreed. "Yeah, but death is the easy way out. This way he has to live with the shitty thing he did."

"That's an excuse." Hannibal said, seeing right through you. "You just don't want to do that to Archie. You liked him a lot, didn't you?"

"You didn't?" You objected. "Don't pretend you didn't."

"I'm not pretending, darling." He assured you. "But Archie was a lot like you in the same way Max was like me."

You stayed quiet, too proud to admit he was right.

"We selected an adoptive couple in our own image."

You folded your arms. "That we did."

"Perhaps it's time we consider that we will never find an adoptive family that meets our standards." He posed. "That the only couple suited to raise this child is... you and I."

"Or we lower our standards." You said, only half-jokingly.

"Oh, [F/N]." Hannibal chuckled. "You know that's not an option. For either of us."

[victorineb]

Fic Recs Mega Post

Whenever I write one of these posts I’m struck by the sheer amount of incredible writing talent in this little fandom of ours. It is quite astonishing, and it’s a privilege to get to read all of this wonderful work. Below there’s a small selection of the fantastic stuff I’ve been reading recently, featuring gods, monsters and feral jungle men - and that’s just for starters!

Storms (series) by @lovecrimevariations (KareliaSweet): This frankly astonishing series starts out in barnstorming but fairly innocuous style in Where Are The Storms I Was Promised, in which Will Graham, famous monster hunter, is called to deal with the Wendigo that’s been terrorising an entire town. And then it proceeds, over the course of a further six instalments, to document the beautiful, bloody, often painful course of the relationship between Will and Hannibal, constantly deepening and recontextualising the ‘verse as it goes. Reading this series is almost like watching a really good magic trick – every time you think you’ve got its measure, it pulls something new and surprising out of its hat. And it’s not just flash and sparkle either, the writing is utterly beautiful, the characters are perfectly captured and it is both deeply funny and enormously moving (I was genuinely weepy a number of times throughout). Plus, it also features a majestic, powerful, do-not-under-any-circumstances-fuck-with incarnation of Bedelia, who is worth the price of admission all by herself. Seriously, she was my favourite part of this whole series and I love it beyond any sense or reason. If you have any love of writing whatsoever, read this series, it is a masterclass.

You’ll be in my heart by @starkaryen: Based on the totally beautiful art (here and here) by @camilleflyingrotten, here Will is a scientist on an expedition to find and study gorillas. Instead, he ends up finding Hannibal, a mostly-feral man who lives in the jungle, has an adopted gorilla family, and takes an immediate shine to Will. Who, because this is Will and Hannibal, finds himself taking a shine right back. And all is rosy in Camp Hannigram, until Jack damn Crawford sticks his nose in (like always) and threatens Hannibal’s way of life. As befits the utterly gorgeous artwork, this fic is just lovely from start to finish. It features a particularly adorable version of Hannibal – the scenes in which he indulges his obsession with Will’s safari hat are nothing short of precious – and a charmingly earnest Will. It’s a simple, innocent bit of loveliness, which is rather refreshing in this dark and sophisticated fandom of ours XD.

(Also, if you’d like a little more Tarzan AU, this time with an A/B/O flavour, check out Hannizan by @hotsauce418, which is just pure filth and utterly wonderful with it XD.)

We, the common by @thelongcon23 (thelongcon): A retelling of the show (and beyond) in omegaverse style, this fic alternates masterfully between Hannibal and Will’s POVs as the omega becomes fascinated, obsessed, and ultimately falls in love with the alpha. The result is that while the course of events remains largely the same         (Will still gets framed and gutted, and they still go over the cliff in each other’s arms), others change drastically (the way Will locates Hannibal in Florence, for instance, gets a very clever omegaverse twist). And their relationship after the fall? Well, I can pretty much guarantee you’ve never seen it go down quite like this before. If you’re looking for fluff, I suggest you go elsewhere, but if you’re after passion, intensity, and that terribly Hannigram sense that love and cruelty are not mutually exclusive, this is the fic for you. The writer has a firm grip on the characters’ voices and motivations and is uncompromising and incisive in their betrayal of both. This is not necessarily an easy read (particularly towards the end, when Hannibal gives Will a reckoning of his own) but it is a compelling and fascinating one.

Cookies by @desperatelyseekingcannibals (TigerPrawn): Now, those of you who are after some fluff, here’s some of the best around. Tiger’s non-cannibal AU is an absolute treat, full of emotional idiots, kick-ass women and a totally adorable kid (and I don’t say that lightly cos kid!fic ain’t my thing!). It all starts when Will accompanies his daughter Abigail as she goes door-to-door selling cookies for charity and finds himself face to face with the ever-so-handsome Doctor Lecter. And then somehow, before he knows it, Will is agreeing to a date in exchange for Hannibal buying all of Abby’s stock, and soon finding that he might have stumbled into a real relationship. Not that it’s smooth sailing, of course, this is still Hannigram we’re talking about! It is my deep and ardent belief that Hannibal dreams of being a romcom when it grows up and with this utterly charming, romantic, as-sweet-as-its-name-suggests fic, that dream is made a reality. Anyone who’s ever wanted to see Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter fall in love the old-fashioned way (you know, without all those annoying stints in prison and near-fatal injuries), treat yourself and read this fic. I guarantee it will melt even the most dark and twisted of hearts.

Picture Imperfect by @shiphitsthefan: Will Graham is a very special alpha – unlike many of his sex, he can be trusted not to turn into a hormonal animal around omegas. It’s how he’s made his career as a photographer. That is, right up until he’s in a room with concert harpsichordist Hannibal Lecter and everything goes to hell when they scent each other and can barely keep themselves from ripping their clothes off and bonding right there and then. Seems like they’re true mates and it’s only a matter of time before they give into their urges – so Will, being a decent and respectful alpha, has to get this courtship show on the road before that happens. Well, mostly before that happens. Given the UST inherent to the plot, this is every bit as intensely, stupidly hot as you’d hope, but it’s also a really clever, thoughtful exploration of the omegaverse concept, set in a ‘verse in which omegas are the ruling gender, a nice reversal of the usual a/b/o setup. Plus it has an almost indecently adorable version of Hannigram, in which progressive Will and traditionalist Hannibal attempt to conjoin their lives so that they can get on and shag already! Smart and sexy a/b/o is one of our fandom’s greatest strengths and this is truly just an exemplary version of it.

Space Invader II: A Very Darko Sequel by @devereauxsdisease: A sequel to the utterly wonderful Space Invader (and if you haven’t read it, I’m begging you, go remedy that this instant), this return to Dev’s Spacedogs ‘verse sees Adam and Nigel still ensconced in blissful coupledom. So blissful, in fact, that it’s making Darko wonder if he might want some of that relationship stuff for himself. Cue the appearance of a certain sassy lab tech last seen working for the FBI. That’s right, Beverly Katz is alive, in town and about to rock Darko’s world XD. This is just an utter joy to read, stuffed with Dev’s trademark mix of fantastic dialogue, heartfelt emotion and wickedly dirty jokes. And best of all is her way with the characters, all of whom are wonderfully loveable and who work beautifully together. I spent the whole fic marvelling at the way in which these disparate characters come together and feel like they were always meant to be that way – they make a lovely, entertainingly weird family and are never less than an utter delight to spend time with.

Forgemaster by @llewcie: Valhalla Enchanted by way of the Greek gods now, in this peerless piece of sweetness by the lovely Llew. Char and Ella are the new Dionysus and Aphrodite (in this ‘verse, the gods can retire and be replaced) and live like brother and sister, i.e. bickering, winding each other up, pushing each other’s buttons... They particularly like making bets, which winds up with Ella making Char agree to three dates with Hephaestus, being played in this fic by One Eye. Given that One Eye is unsociable, ragged, and constantly dirty from his forge, Char is less than impressed with his companion and says so… somewhat unfortunately within One Eye’s earshot. So when, despite himself, Char finds himself falling for the blacksmith god’s charms, he’s got a lot of work to do to convince One Eye that he’s worth the trouble! Llew has the charm turned up all the way to eleven in this gorgeously frothy, funny little comedy of errors, with a sweetly vain version of Char melting under the steadily growing appeal of One Eye’s gentle strength. If you need cheering up for any reason, this fic should be your first port of call.

Pure Imagination by @constructfairytales (beforethedawn and Destinyawakened): Stranger Things was one of my favourite shows last year (admittedly it’s no Hannibal, but what is?). It was smart and weird, and as an 80s baby it pressed every last one of my nostalgia buttons, from soundtrack to costume design. So, of course, it was with nothing but delight that I started this crossover AU, in which Will is police chief of the town where young Will Byers goes missing and Hannibal is the psychiatrist he brings in to counsel the traumatised community. And I wasn’t disappointed – this is a fantastic blend of Hannibal’s surreal romanticism with the full-on monstery weirdness of the ST ‘verse, with plenty of unexpectedly but pleasingly fluffy Hannigram at the centre of it. Though it follows the basic plot of ST, having Will and Hannibal involved inevitably shakes things up (Will’s empathy is given a brilliant twist) and predictable this certainly ain’t. Instead it’s fun, thrilling and playful, with at least one story development that genuinely had me on the edge of my seat. And did I mention the Hannigram? Cos, yeah, there’s no slow burn here. Our boys are goners from the second they meet and the intensity of their connection is all kinds of wonderful.

The Estate by @bokuno-jinsei: Amusingly, the tags on this fantastic fic eventually turn into a short plea for Will Graham to stop thinking so much (a plea which anyone who’s written the over-analytical little shit will know is hopeless). Fortunately, Will clearly paid no attention, and so we readers are treated to this charmingly introspective piece of canon divergence. So, Hannibal gets as far as sitting Will at the dinner table in Florence. But, before he can get out his bonesaw, he seemingly has second thoughts and so Will wakes some time later to find himself ensconced in the last place he expected to revisit – Lecter Castle. Where, he finds, Hannibal has decided to change the game between them: if Will agrees to see if they can live together, Hannibal will cease any attempts to change or influence Will. So the pair find themselves as the unlikeliest of roommates as Will wrestles with his demons, his desires and, inevitably, his feelings for Hannibal. Anybody who enjoys intense conversations, brewing sexual tension and Hannibal in waders (yes, really), step this way, you’re in for a treat.  

Inevitable by Vulcanmi: I do adore canon divergence. And I have a weakness for prison fics (love Hannigram falling in love while incarcerated). So this fic is entirely my jam. It picks up in the second half of s3: Hannibal is in jail, Will is “happily” married to Molly, and Jack is still desperate to have his pet empath back on board to deal with the Tooth Fairy. Except in this ‘verse, Will decides not to give into Jack and remains with his family, far away from Baltimore. In order to make it up to his former boss, though, Will writes a letter to a certain inmate, suggesting that he offer his services where Will cannot. Of course, it’s not the last letter Will ends up sending to Hannibal. Not by a long shot. And we all know what happens once Will gives Hannibal an inch… (hey, I didn’t mean that kind of inch, you filthy perverts!). Though it starts out as an angsty exploration of Will’s determination to separate himself from Hannibal, somewhere along the way this fantastic fic transforms into a twisted yet adorable romcom, as our murder muffins confront their feelings and try to figure out whether there’s any version of the world in which they might be together. And, frankly, it’s an utter delight to read. One for those (*raises hand*) who like their hurt/comfort 20% hurt and 80% comfort.

Inside the Imitation by @belladonnaq (Belladonna_Q) with artwork by @reapersun: A confession. I’ve never seen The Thing (because I’m a scaredy-cat who doesn’t watch anything that could remotely be described as scary. “But Vic, isn’t Hannibal scary?” Yeah, yeah, I contain multitudes, now hush mango, I’m working). However, I’ve never let ignorance get between me and my Hannigram and so I jumped headfirst into the The Thing/Hannibal crossover which, fortunately, works utterly brilliantly with absolutely zero knowledge of the film. So, once again Jack Crawford finds reason to call upon the services of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter. Except this time, it’s not in order to investigate the Minnesota Shrike, but a strange case with its roots in a decades-old tragedy in Alaska. Soon things turn weird and monstery and Will and Hannibal find themselves reluctantly (well, as ever, Will’s reluctant, Hannibal’s thrilled) investigating a burned-out government building with something truly frightening at its core. This is thrilling, clever and wonderfully creepy, a fantastic reframing of canon (especially the Hannigram) and tons of fun throughout. I have to admit, I did not see the twist coming in this fic (though that’s possibly because I’m a dim bulb when it comes to plot) and it was delivered brilliantly, turning everything on its head and upping the stakes for our beloved murder muffins. Oh, and make sure to check out @reapersun’s fabulous artwork that accompanies the fic, it’s staggeringly gorgeous.

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: Volume 2 by @fragile-teacup: A continuation of the marvellous The Spaces Between series, this picks up a little after volume one, with our boys enjoying Argentinian high society. Unfortunately, while the end of the previous instalment hinted at full-blown murder husbandry, it quickly turns out that Will and Hannibal haven’t quite sorted out their feelings to anyone’s satisfaction (you’re shocked, I can tell). Fortunately, we’re pretty much out of slow burn territory here and the idiots manage to get their act (mostly) together just in time for some ghosts to rear their perfectly-coiffed, millionairess heads and throw a spanner in the works. This sequel continues the achingly lovely tone of its predecessor, with romance a-plenty amongst bouts of emotional idiocy and bloodlust. It’s sweet and tender without compromising on the intensity and darkness of our beloved boys and builds their relationship with care and patience, allowing for a believable building of trust and love between them. It is, in other words, a treat to read in every way, so get yourself to ao3 and have at it!

As ever and always, if I’ve miscredited anyone or if there are bad links, please let me know and I’ll correct it ASAP. Happy reading, lovely fannibals!