#we got to see hannibal cooking on his own so many times but THE ONE TIME will cooks with him is not shown

[fixedteacup]

and we never got to see will and hannibal cooking together in naka-choko. how would will move in hannibals kitchen when he's not just watching hannibal prepare meals on his own? does he know where everything is located? would hannibal just hand him items or tell him where everything is, letting him make himself familiar with the space? would they talk throughout or would they work in comfortable silence, side by side? would they work efficiently fast or would they take their time, revelling in the novelty of cooking together for the first time?

[readerstories]

Whatever We Want - Hannibal Lecter x gn!reader

Made it gender neutral because I could and gender doesn’t really come into the fic. I tried to go for smut, but got stuck, so just some light fluff this time. If you see any typos, please tell me. (AO3)

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 1468

Request: hi there! can you please do a Hannibal x reader? Preferably smut however if you just want fluff thats okay too! The reader is a patient of his and after awhile of therapy sessions and learning more about each other, he makes a move. she intrigues him and is intelligent and kind but dark like him. except not a cannibal (yet lol)

Going to therapy had been a hard choice for you. You’re a private person and think people should keep out of your business as much as possible, thank you very much.

But that, being said, you had realized you probably needed it, or at least something. Punching a mirror in a weak moment had made you seek something out.

So you had researched therapists near you, eventually finding one you thought might not be too bad.

To your surprise, you actually end up liking going there. Dr. Lecter is a well mannered and polite man with some dry humor which he sometimes lets shine through in your sessions. He’s not boring like you thought, instead well read in many disciplines and facets of life, and enjoys the finer things in life, like the tailored suits he always wears, giving your eye something nice as well as your mind.

He lets you ramble and talk about just about anything, sometimes listening, sometimes talking more than you when you are in a foul mood. He’s good at what he does, giving you the illusion of controlling where the sessions go, but you catch on after a few sessions. You joke about it some, (”Is this where you diagnose me with daddy issues Dr. Lecter?” A movement that can barely be called a smile and a huff of air the closest thing you have heard to a laughter from him. “I am not.”), but over time you grow into it, letting him do so.

It helps that you find him interesting and good to look at, so he has no problems in keeping you attentive when you meet. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought about him in other settings. But you had let them go, not wanting to push for something you can’t get.

Which is why, when Hannibal invites you over for dinner one day, he is met with surprised silence over the phone for a few seconds before you gather yourself and say yes to his invitation.

The next evening, at 6 pm sharp, you ring the doorbell of his house while trying to squash the butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach.

Steady footsteps behind the door, and then it’s opened by Hannibal. He’s not smiling, not that you expected him to, but the look on his face is kind. You hand over the blue hydrangeas you had been holding.

“I would have gotten some wine, but I know your taste is better than mine, so I did this instead.”

“Thank you. Come in.” Still ever so polite, Dr. Lecter holds the door open for you as you step inside.

“I find that flowers have a calming effect as well as bringing more life to a room. Please make yourself comfortable while I find a vase for these wonderful points of life.” Hannibal walks down a hallway and you start to take a look around.

The decor and furnishing clearly speaks to a man living alone, but it is as classy and stylish, but yet very on trend as the man you just gave flowers to.

You had debated over what to bring for longer than you would care to admit, unsure what to make of the situation you find yourself in. You wonder what Hannibal had meant by inviting you over for dinner like this.

You are brought out of your musing by approaching steps. Hannibal appears with the flowers in a simple black vase, setting them down on the nearest flat surface before looking at you.

“If you will join me in the dining room, dinner is ready.” You nod, following him into yet another stylish room. The dinner table is long and surrounded by many chairs, clearly able to host a larger gathering of people if needed. But tonight there is only you and Dr. Lecter. He pulls out a chair for you when you get close, and you sit down, the neatly set table in front of you. Yet again he leaves you alone, going through what you assume is the way to the kitchen. Just a few minutes later he is back with plates with food, the smell of them making your mouth water. He sets them down carefully on the table before sitting down across from you.

You can’t help the question that finally tumbles from your lips.

“What is this Dr. Lecter?”

“It is called-” You hold up a hand, silencing him.

“Not the food, but this. Inviting me over for dinner, just the two of us alone.” A few beats of silence as you watch each other.

“It is whatever we want it to be.” He lets the word linger before speaking once more.

“You are one of the most interesting people I have ever met, so a dinner seemed only fitting to get to know each other better.” Your first thought is no, that is what you do in your therapy session, but no, that’s not really it is it? He knows you, but you don’t know much about him, other than that he is polite and looks very good in tailored suits.

“Very well Dr. Lecter.” A smile, the first proper one you have seen from him, however small.

“Please, call me Hannibal.” You smile back at him, glancing down at the food to avoid his gaze so he can’t see how flustered that little permission to use his first name had gotten you.

“But now I am actually curious, what is this wonderful dinner I see and smell before me?”

“The meat is-” and from here he launches into an explanation of the food and how he prepared it while he starts to eat. You mirror him, both continuing to eat while he explains, and then the conversation flows from there. You find it even easier and better to talk to him in a more casual setting like this, almost every sentence he speaks makes you more interested in the man.

He pours you both a glass of wine, and you toast to the health of the other, then continue talking. It’s an easy ebb and flow of words, neither of you running dry on what to say or where to next with your words.

You keep talking and drinking more wine all trough your dinner, and you keep talking while helping Hannibal clear away the dishes. You follow him into the kitchen, offering him to help him, but he thanks you no, saying that no guest of his should do dishes.

So instead you lean against the counter, looking over the kitchen while he does dishes, wineglass almost empty again. You take your last sip of it, setting it down on the counter next to the knife block behind your back.

“You have a rather large kitchen for one person.”

“I like to cook, sometimes for many people.” You hum, watching his back move through his white shirt, shamelessly looking now that he can’t see you.

“I gathered as much, and you are good at it too, I must say.”

“Thank you.” Hannibal almost catches you staring when he turns around, a chef knife in his hands. He steps toward you, and you know you are in his way so he can’t put the knife away, but you don’t move. He raises a brow, you tilt your head in response. Another few steps and he is very much in your personal space, the knife by his side now. He moves his arm ever so slowly up, the knife glinting briefly in the light before it goes behind your back.

You hear it slide into its place in the block, but pay it no mind, all your attention on Hannibal’s face now.

Pulling his arm back, it doesn’t go back at Hannibal’s side, instead his hand comes to at your hip. You lick your lips, his eyes following the motion, the silence in the room deafening.

He leans forward ever so slightly, and then, finally, his lips are on yours. They are firm, warm, and you are quick to respond. Kissing him back your own hands go around his neck, pulling him closer. Hannibal hums into the kiss, both of his hands on your hips now. His tongue comes out and you open your mouth to him, meeting him halfway there.

Hannibal kisses with a quiet, but solid, fierceness you perhaps hadn’t expected. So who are you to blame when your hand wanders down to tug him forward by his belt loop, sending a very clear message of what you want this to be.

Hannibal breaks the kiss but doesn’t go far, staying right where he is as he speaks.

“Is this what you want it to be?”

“Yes.” You whisper breathlessly and pull him back for another kiss with his tie.

[gemstone-roses]

Hannibal x Female Curvy reader.

Note: this was requested by a lovley nonnie who requested some characteristics and reader description be included, reader is female,curvy, Italian, opera singer, likes leopard print and Princess dresses,corsets, is a medium. Also note I've never seen beauty and the beast so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. A few Italian pet names (apologies if I got any translations wrong).

Warnings: mentions of past child abuse, murder, drugging, kidnapping, being tied up, alcohol, swearing, dark thoughts, wanting to kill someone, jealousy.

Hannibal Lecter had an extensive and handpicked guest list for his dinner parties. You were on every single one.

In fact, some of his guests had only promised their prescense if you were to be there too.

You were quite a breathtaking sight. Your leopard print party dress highligting your beautiful curves and breasts. People wouldn't approach you, you would approach them, and only then would they be confident in speaking with you.

You could converse in several languages, Italian being your mother tongue, and people were enamoured with the way you conversed.

Hannibals guests complimented his divine cooking, but he couldn't take all the credit, you were also, a very competent cook, and had assisted him in preparing his menu many times.

You were thankful for the praise, but it didn't cancel out the feeling of anger building inside you.

You heard many comments "where did he find such a woman" "she's cold that one is" "sugar baby" "I bet she wouldn't know where to begin in his library". "he's just her sugar daddy he doesn't even like her I bet"

You came off as cold yes, on purpose, you were afraid of getting hurt. You didn't let anybody in. Ever.

Also, trying to quiet your dark thoughts took quite the effort.

People speculated about your relationship with hannibal, and he would just smile and say "I've known y/n for years"

He'd met you at the opera.

Well actually, he had gone to see you perform at the opera. And he was instantly taken by you.

He stopped by your dressing room after, complementing your stunning performance.

"I'm Dr Hannibal Lecter" he introduced.

"I know, I've read your work, doctor, I'm impressed" you smiled.

"Ah, it's not often I meet a fan of my work, especially when I am a fan of them"

"I said I was impressed by your work doctor lecter, not that I was a fan" you talked back.

Hannibal was taken aback by your retort, but he soon realised that you had quite the personality.

And he just loved you more for it.

The first time you two went out to dinner, hannibal was struck again by your beauty, wearing a beautiful dress

The two of you conversed for hours over a delicious meal, however you commented you could make something much better and invited hannibal over to your house for dinner.

Hannibal was impressed by your cooking, which was an achievement in itself to impress a man such as him with your cooking skills.

Hannibal chose his inner circle with great care, and it was someone in that circle that had told him about you.

About how if hannibal had anyone in his life who had passed then you could contact them.

You had made contact with misha for him. Hopefully giving the man some comfort and closure regarding his little sister.

And that is how the two of you became friends. It wasn't easy, breaking down the walls you had built up to protect yourself, so hannibal began thinking of other ways he could get you to warm up to him more.

Hannibal was a clever man, and he did his research on you, he knew you had some demons you buried deep.

It made choosing his next victim much easier

He'd do this for you, he thought.

Killing the man who had hurt you when you were a child was the biggest driving force you had to keep going.

You'd thought about it daily, for so long, and to finally end the horrible disgusting man who had abused you gave you a small slice of satisfaction.

So when you found out someone had beat you to it, you were not at all pleased. In fact you'd sworn that you would track down the person who'd done it and tell them just exactly what they had took from you.

Hannibal was struggling to contain his jealousy, watching men swoon over you, stare at your body with hungry eyes, only wanting one thing, he'd treat you like a goddess compared to these men. And if you weren't going to notice his efforts on your own then you'd just need a bit of guidance.

After a party, you liked to wind down surrounded by your books, mainly psychological ones, getting lost in the pages, the ins and outs of the mind, fascinating. You were so caught up in your book you didn't hear the front door opening, and by the time you felt the sharp scratch on the back of your neck, you were already dizzy. You felt strong arms catch you as you fell into darkness.

You awoke on a surprisingly soft surface, bound, but not uncomfortable.

Hannibal wasn't a total monster.

When you took in your surroundings your confusion quickly turned to anger when you saw hannibal standing in front of you.

"What the fuck do you think your doing? Did you kidnap me?!!" you fumed. Trying to struggle out of the rope.

"You are going to hurt yourself" he said calmly.

"Untie me right now!" you yelled.

"Are you going to behave?" he bent down to level with your face

"You cannot, just kidnap people, especially me?! I thought me and you were friends" you spat at him.

Hannibal just hummed and stood up and left the room.

You continued to yell curse words in many languages and call him questionable things as you strained against your bonds.

Hannibal was simply, ignoring you.

And after you had calmed down, he came back.

"Have you quiet finished my love" he tilted your chin, softly.

You looked your captor in the eye, a strange sense washing over you, furrowing your brows, your voice was soft.

"You-

"You, your him aren't you?, the chesapeake ripper?"

"Indeed" he confirmed, he stood to get up

"Wait!" you called

Hannibal stopped, a mild suprised look on his face.

"It was you, you killed him didn't you?" even surprising yourself, you weren't angry.

"Did you do that, for me?" you whispered.

"I couldn't stand the thought of a man who had hurt such a divine being such as you so much walking around freely, I made sure he suffered y/n, for you."

Your heart soared at the information, hannibal had killed, for you.

"Hannibal, I -

"Darling you do not need to say anything, I would do anything to protect you"

You smiled at the man, a genuine smile.

"I will untie you now, and we will have dinner" he stated

His hands were soft as he undid the ropes, rubbing your wrists for you as they fell to the floor.

He excused himself for a moment, returning with a hanger covered in a black sheet.

"For you tesero mio" he handed it to you.

Unzipping it you found the most divine princess dress you'd ever seen.

You gasped at his thoughtfulness.

"You may change up in the bathroom, and then, we shall eat" he smiled.

The dress highlighted your curves and chest perfectly, you honestly, felt like belle.

You sat down at the table, hannibal pulled out your chair for you, he raised his wine glass towards you.

"Are you content, amore mio?" you found yourself flustered at the name.

"I am" you sighed.

"Tomorrow, you can explore my library, and I'm sure you will find many books to satisfy you" he smiled.

You were excited to finally get chance to be in there, and also, excited at your relationship with hannibal. You raised your wine glass.

"To us"

"To us" he agreed.

[delcat177]

Have you ever watched the Hannibal series (the newer one)? It can be a little cheesy at times but you might dig Hannibal and Will’s dynamic. They remind me of Wilson and Maxwell in some sense

Okay, so here is the singular thing:

These two will always be my OG Hannibal OTP. Possibly unpopular opinion, I don't know. My God, how long I have loved them. Garage sale VHS long. Silence of the Lambs is a very favored movie by one of my OCs, and she was rather put out that Anthony Hopkins was not reprising his role at the time, in an expression of my own deep, deep longing for a full series of Iconic Murder Husband.

(She also eats people. And we all go ssst 'cause it's so hot good god damn Mr. Hopkins and Mz. Foster class! act! so! good! pecs jesus)

But once I got over that, I fully embraced Murder Husbands 2.0!

They ABSOLUTELY have the dynamic, except if my Maxwell brought Woundson food in his sensory-controlled autist den (A++++++ scene, life-sustaining, This Shit Everything About It), it would be dubiously cooked and also slung directly at his head with "EAT DAMMIT" and a snarky slapfight would ensue. Hannibal has endless restraint and patience, and Maxwell is more like Wilson than he likes to let on--he gets bored easily and is a curious man, and despite the chess mastery, he's impulsive, doesn't think too far ahead. He's not unintelligent, but, well...nobody's Lecter but Lecter.

(Lecter is on tier with Freddy, Mikey, and Jason for humanity. Maxwell retains more personhood by way of not having a body count, and by way of getting body horror'd for his actions. I Have Opinions About Killer Psychology, Excuse Me)

I will admit that I have only seen a little of Hannibal, I'm not even through the first season--this is because for awhile, I was watching it with my fiance, we ran into timing issues and started watching other things, that song and dance. That keeps me from claiming true ship status, probably, but it's something I'm working on remedying. I have deeply enjoyed every moment I've seen, and fully plan on watching the series in full, I just need to open up time for it.

It doesn't help that I started watching during what my friends/relatives call "the black hole period" after my describing it as such, an extremely affected span of years after my mother passed where I really wasn't taking in much at all because grief is able to block out many suns--even these dark stars.

(All of them. Like, damn these two are great, but I always loved Fishburne on CSI, Raul Esparza is incredible whatever he's in, I understand Gillian Anderson and Eddie Izzard I have yet to get to, just...Jesus this CAST)

I'd say I'll be ready for it once I finish hyperfocusing on the last AGDQ and once I get some words down on paper for my Maxwell/Woundson so I don't get character seep right when I'm finally seeing them straight on again, it's been a hot second but they're finally back IC, totally, in my head, and I want to grab that while I can. Then I can have precious reward of hot neurotic meets hot psychotic and oh god no why are there deer

(Three of my favorites!)

tl;dr: I love, I agree, I'm behind, I want more. Thank you for reminding me, I'm pushing this one up The Big Media List!

As a thank you:

From I think October? My Hannibal is the oldschool one, new one is my sister's, they both protect precious son.

Thank you for the great ask!

[mantistog]

Uneasy

Yandere! WIll Graham x reader x Yandere! Hannibal Lecter

______________________________________________

You had stated it many times to WIll, him in no way heeding your warnings. It wasn’t that you particularly hated or even disliked Dr. Lecter. But you always felt so discomforted in his presence. Where as you and Will rarely shared eye contact, it seemed Dr. Lecter was too fond of it. Or too fond of looking at you in general- you didn’t like the attention that you felt having someone's eyes linger on you for too long. You had told Jack exactly the same thing, when he first brought the man into the station. Nobody seemed to take you seriously though, Alana even telling you that you should put your personal dislike for Hannibal aside and be happy someone would be there for Will.

You couldn’t blame her, she had a personal and professional relationship with the man that obviously made her harbour serious respect. Maybe that’s why everyone loves him, cause they see his brilliance in his field and instantly bestow him with respect unfounded. In moments such as these in your life, you are happy that you don’t understand half of the professional things that him and Alana engage in. 

You sighed, bringing your fist up to the wooden door, knocking quietly and maybe hoping that no one would hear so you wouldn’t have to do this. But to your dismay the door was opened rather quickly, and if it hadn’t Will would have simply forced you to knock again. “Ah, we’ve been waiting for you. Please, come in.” The psychiatrists gentle tone and gentleman like demeanor never failed to make you annoyed. Yet you simply thanked him, handing your coat over for it to be hanged. The house was extravagant, too much so for your tastes. Too big, too expensive. Everything about Dr. Lecter and his house screamed self importance. Narcissism. You preferred the humbleness of you or Wills small house. He greeted Dr. Lecter as if they were friends, shaking his hand timidly as he instructed you into the dinning room. 

At the table already sat were Jack Crawford and his wife, Bella. You were well acquainted with both, and you were happy they were there so you wouldn’t have to suffer alone with Will and Dr. Lecter. It was the only reason you had decided to accept the invitation that was extended through Will onto you on behalf of Dr. Lecter. As much as you loved Will, his and his therapists relationship was hard to get an angle on and quite frankly you found it unpleasant to be around the two at the same time. It was almost like he brought out the worst in Will. 

Tonight was worse than normal, too. They seemed to share knowing glances and hushed whispers as Dr. Lecter handed out everyone's plates. Their relationship had always fluctuated, but you had never watched them scheme the way they were right now. The dinner was pleasant, as you discussed ongoing and current events with Bella, heavily preferring her and Jacks company over the company of that of Will and Dr. Lecter with their sudden agreement. It almost made you grit your teeth in annoyance. At least a couple of weeks ago Will would have never found Dr. Lecter as agreeable as he suddenly did. It was suspicious, you could just tell something was off, the same way you knew from the beginning that Dr. Lecter was different than he seemed. 

The night ended off swimmingly, surprisingly no reveal of the secret that the two were apparently keeping as Jack and Bella made their leave. “We should get going too, right Will?” You urged, trying not to be rude as you tried to separate yourself and Will from Dr. Lecter. He smiled, putting a hand on your shoulder warmly. It was weird to see him physical with anyone, so it instantly ticked you off that something was indeed wrong. You shrugged his hand off, taking a step back awkwardly. His and your eyes met accidentally for once, and he was looking at you so softly and warmly, a almost unnoticeable smile on his face. But you noticed. 

“We should get home, shouldn’t we? It’s getting late.” He answered you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the door. You thanked Dr. Lecter for the dinner out of courtesy, but he simply replied ominously that he would see you again soon. There was nothing you could really do other than shoot him a look of suspicion before you and Will get into his car and you watched him study you both as you drove away. You felt suddenly very sleepy as you were sitting down again as Will drove, and you didn’t think anything of it as you fell asleep, trusting Will to get you home safely as he always did. 

That’s why when you woke up in an unknown environment you were nothing short of first surprised, scared and then angry. Absolutely livid, to be frank, as you realized with the pounding headache that you had probably been drugged- you knew the feeling well enough to establish the connection in your mind between previous experiences and this one. The room, bed and sheets were all nicer than your own. The walls seemed to be made mostly of planks, wood and logs, aiming to confirm your suspicion you looked out the window and was greeted with woods. You were in a fancy cabin of some kind in the middle of nowhere, or at least a ways from any other house. Bundling the sheets up in your first, you quickly disposed of them from the bed and launching them onto the floor carelessly. Your white shirt was the same as the one you had worn to the dinner party, but you couldn’t help but notice your lack of pants and wonder just who removed them. At least the dress shirt was long, when not accurately shoved down into your pants.

You got up quietly, noting that you could faintly smell something cooking, but it was hard to tell with the window slightly cracked open, letting the petrichor in from the outside. There were two doors leading out from the room, but one was cracked slightly open and showed you a bathroom. You were in the master bedroom then. That must mean it was a sizable cabin. Only one person who could afford this who had any business with you came to mind and your face quickly soured. The other door stood there ominously, and you had to gather some courage to approach. It didn’t creak as you pulled it open slowly, peering through the crack of the door as it became bigger. The layout was as you’d imagined it, the door not leading to a hall but instead straight into a living room. Sitting in the couch situated in the middle of the room is Will, and before you can stop your brain from acting on it’s visual input your hand pushes the door open fully and Will instantly turn his head to look at you. At first there is shock on his face, but then it’s replaced with a small sincere smile.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?” He asks, his eyes remaining on you completely as he puts down a book you didn’t even realize he had been holding. He looks so smart with those glasses half way down his nose and a book next to him. Still, his calmness at the situation blows your lid off. He knows you have a short temper, why is he testing you? You can tell he notices your face turn downwards again, your eyebrows pressing further together in frustration. “Will, where are we?” It was more a demand, than a question. 

“Home.” He said, suddenly as stone cold as you were. He was mimicking your loss of patience. You felt like a child that was being scolded by their parents. Yet your face didn’t waver. “No, Will. Where is my phone and my pants? I have work.” The words were slow and steady, as he got up. Something told you that you were in danger. You’d never felt scared of Will before this. “You’re not going in anymore.” He simply answered, stepping closer and causing the response in you to go backwards too. Don’t let him close the distance, you told yourself despite not being certain what he wanted. If he was gonna kill you he would’ve done it while you were asleep. 

Your back hit the wall, yet he continues to advance on you until he’s right in front of you.  “Will-” He cuts you off by grabbing your face into his hands, pulling you closer and studying your face. You doubt your facade of only anger keeps your fear and uncertainty hidden from him, yet you refuse to drop it. He moves your head around a bit and his breath fans your face, and you don’t know what to do with yourself except blush as he closed his eyes and connected his forehead to yours. His breathing was heavier than it normally was as his nose flirted with yours, his face lowering and your lips coming closer-

“Breakfast is ready.” You blood ran cold, and your heart stopped for a quick second, almost giving you a mini heart attack. Will pulled back fast, giving you an exhausted look quickly before turning around and addressing Dr. Lecter. “Yes, thank you.” He said thankfully, but by the look in Dr. Lecters eyes you knew that he knew what he had just interrupted. For once, maybe, you were thankful genuinely for Dr. Lecter. Will grabbed your hand, heading towards a door opposite where you came from, but Dr. Lecter instructs him to please go get pants. You assume those would be for you, considering the circumstance. 

At this point pants are of no importance as you’re being led into the beautiful dining room, just itching for at least any answers as to where you are and why. You decide that if you want any answers from the psychiatrist you’re gonna have to be a bit more polite than you were with Will. Dr. Lecter pulls in your chair for you as you sit down, but he lingers behind you for a bit, smelling you before he too sits down. Another thing that made you uneasy about him, the way his sense of smell worked. You’re sitting at the end of the table, Dr. Lecter at your right and what you assume to be Wills seat on your left. 

“Dr. Lecter-” you start to ask, but he cuts you off eagerly urging you to call him Hannibal as he has done many times before. You never listened, but right now you would as you assumed your politeness would benefit your cause. “Hannibal-” He nods at your correction. “Where am I?” You ask, trying to maintain eye contact with him. Laying on the table unsuspectingly, your hand is suddenly gently grasped by his hand being played atop yours. He looks at you in a way so soft you want to melt. “Do not worry, love. Me and Will plan to take good care of you.” And then it’s gone. Now he makes you feel uneasy again, treating you like an ignorant little child, as he addresses you. Will, comes in and sits down, eyeing Hannibal as he grabs your other hand. You pull both your hands to yourself quickly, frustrated with their none answers, throwing your hands in your lap. “Why am I here?” 

They both share a weird look and then they smile in unison, freaking you out. Hannibal reaches out to you and grabs your hands in your lap and bringing them to his face, kissing your knuckles while Will simply smiles at you content to watch Hannibal touch you. 

“Isn’t it obvious? We love you.” 

[hyperionshipping]

Backyard Garden

a/n: wowo! I did indeed write a whole fic instead of sleeping at a decent time. I had fun though!

---

It was a particular hot day, and though it wasn't out of the ordinary for Hannibal to spend a day home instead of being out, it was rare he wasn't doing something in his own home. The summer heat seemed to have other plans, and Hannibal was currently enjoying the cooling breeze of the A.C.

Despite this, just outside in the back, Elias was filling his watering can. He turned the spigot off, and picked up the water can, carefully hauling it towards his small garden. Hannibal had been happy to let him start a small garden, and Elias had been vigilant with watering and tending to the plants in it. Currently, he was watering the celery. Some were ready to be picked. He made sure the celery got extra water. Celery was something that could always use more water. He then moved to the cucumbers. The fencing he made for the cucumbers to climb was very DIY, and it showed. But, it worked.

He put the water can down to carefully weave the leaves and plant itself through the holes of the fence. "I think this should have been taller. You are growing so much!" Elias told the plant as he watered it. Halfway through, he had to refill the watering can. Next came the radishes. Elias didn't like radishes, but Hannibal had picked the seeds out when they were shopping earlier when Elias started to plan the garden out. He squatted down, "I think there are some here ready to be picked. Are you early?" he got back up and watered them.

The last plant that needed to be watered was the tomatoes. Elias with the help of Hannibal had planted four tomato plants. And they were growing wildly. Elias fanned himself as he stood by one plant. He needed a drink. Looking at the tomato plant, he pulled a few yellowing stems off, stuffing them in his pocket to throw away when he was done. He picked up the watering can once again, and finally finished watering the small garden.

After dropping the watering can back in its spot, he stepped into the cool house and immediately made a beeline to the fridge, moving around a few things to find the pitcher of juice he had. He poured himself a glass and chugged it. He placed the glass in the sink, making a note to clean it after.

He went searching for a pot, alerting Hannibal, who looked over. "Looking to cook, Elias? It's a bit hot for a large meal, don't you think?" Elias shook his head, pulling a pot out, and putting it to the side.

"No, not cooking right now." Elias pulled a smaller pot out, and then put it back. "Can I use this?"

"What for?"

"Just to hold something." Elias picked the pot up, showing to it Hannibal, who had walked closer to the kitchen. "This one."

"Yes, you may. I assume you're going to hold something food related?"

"Uh huh." Elias nodded, walking past him, arm wrapped around the pot. He opened a drawer, grabbing a knife. Hannibal just watched him, not saying anything.

***

Elias first came in with a few cut pieces of Celery. He placed them on the table. Then it was the cucumbers. "Hannibal! Look! Look, at these. 3 big ones." Hannibal smiled at how enthusiastic Elias was.

"They look good."

"Yeah! They're gonna be good. Have one!" Elias ran back out, and disappeared again for a little. While he was out, Hannibal took the cucumbers and moved them to the fridge.

Elias was quickly back in with a small handful of radishes. "I didn't know if these were ready or not, so they're kinda small." Hannibal watched Elias put them by the sink. "I'll clean my cup in a second. You don't see it there." Hannibal took a radish in his hand, and looked at it. It was a bit small, but Elias was happy.

"They look fine to me. Sometimes homegrown vegetables aren't as big or grand as the ones in the market. That is what makes them unique, though."

"Yeah! You have to eat all this radish, though. I'm not gonna. Or give it away. Anyway, I need to finish up." Elias was back out one last time to pick tomatoes.

There was a good amount of tomatoes to pick. Some were riper than others. The pot was filled quickly with a mix of regular tomatoes and cherry ones. Elias popped a cherry tomato in his mouth as he brought the pot inside. He made sure to throw away the part of the tomato plants he'd pulled off before going inside, however.

"Hannibal," Elias said, putting the pot on the counter. "Come look at this. This is crazy!" Hannibal made his way back to the kitchen, looking at the full pot. He laughed a little.

"Elias, did you pick every tomato?"

"No! These were just mostly ready ones. There's still tomatoes growing out there."

"Well, I guess we just have soil the tomatoes must love."

"I guess!" Elias grabbed a tomato and put it aside, turning his back to Hannibal as he searched for a cutting board. "What are we gonna do with all of them? I can't eat this many sandwiches." Hannibal thought for a moment.

"Well, we could can a few. Or I could make tomato soup to freeze for later." Elias nodded as Hannibal talked, grabbing a cutting board and placing it on the counter. He grabbed the tomato he put to the side, and started to wash it off.

"Can you teach me how to make a tomato sauce? You made pasta one time, and that's what I really remember." Elias turned the water off. "I mean, I know 'tomato sauce' kinda sounds easy, but your recipes are all so fancy."

"Well, it is a bit hot to cook a sauce right now, Elias. To make a good one, it needs to cook for a while." Elias looked at him for a moment. "I suppose, though, it wouldn't hurt to have some sauce on hand. Or to eat some pasta."

"Awesome!" Elias smiled at him, "can I eat first? I'm gonna make a tomato sandwich. Do you want one?"

"I'm fine," Hannibal grabbed the pot of tomatoes. "You eat. I'll wash the tomatoes we need, and then I'll teach you how to make a basic pasta sauce."

"Can I make the pasta? Please let me make the pasta."

"You can. But it'll be a few hours."

"Right, right yeah. Few hours got it. Whatever." Hannibal shook his head a little as Elias cut his tomato into slices for a sandwich. He knew Elias was more excited to just make the pasta than learn the best way to let a sauce simmer and what spices to add and when, but that was fine.

[darling-i-read-it]

Sorbet

1x07

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, surgery, murder, organ harvesting 

Author’s Note: Dudes this is so long and took me forever but I have so much fun with them I could literally care less. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar.

Official Episode Summary : A murder involving organ removal makes Jack think that the Chesapeake Ripper has resurfaced; Will has nightmares about being a killer; Hannibal tries to seduce Alana Bloom.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Hannibal walked over to where you were sitting at your desk in the waiting room. You were heavily invested in something on your computer which surprisingly was actually your job. You did a few clicks before you were able to look up at Hannibal who waited patiently for you to be finished.

“You have another appointment at 5:30,” you said pleasantly although he usually didn’t need to be reminded. 

“Yes I know but I wanted to sneak in a conversation.” You raised an eyebrow and took out the earbud that you had in while you worked in solitude.

“I’m all ears,” you told him. He nodded. 

“I’m going to attend an opera singer show tonight, along with dinner. I accidentally bought two tickets, courtesy of rushed times, and was curious to see if you might want to attend with me.” Your lip curled up into a smile and you nodded.

“Sure. I’ve never been to an opera anything,” you said truthfully. “What do I even wear?” He shrugged.

“Something nice. I’m sure you have something in the back of your closet.” 

“I’m sure I do too. Should I meet you here or…”

“If it’s not any trouble I could simply pick you up at home.” You nodded.

“Will’s teaching a late class tonight so I doubt he’ll even know that I’m gone,” you said and as it left your lips your shuddered. You weren’t sure quite how you felt about this now. “I’m curious, why ask me? I’m not exactly cultured, I have a boyfriend,” you said. Hannibal shrugged his shoulders.

“I thought you might appreciate it more than anyone else I know personally.” You nodded. You would tell Will, it wasn’t like you were having an affair or anything. It was simply dinner and a show while Will worked. It just happened to be with Hannibal.

“What time should I expect you?”

“Around 7.” You smiled.

“Perfect.”

-

At exactly 6:59 the doorbell rang. You hadn’t had time to call Will so you left him a note, just in case you got home after he did. You opened the door and Hannibal looked you up and down, a small smile gracing his face.

“You were able to find something nice in the back of your closet after all,” he said. You gave him a small twirl and he did a little clap, chuckling. You were quite pleased with the look you were able to pull together, the dress you had worn to a wedding a few years back still fitting thankfully. It was perfect and ended up complimenting Hannibal’s suit rather well.

“You wash up nice too Doctor. Although I can’t say I’ve ever seen you dressed down.” He nodded.

“I try to stay on alert fashionably,” he said. 

“That’s quite clear.”

-

The show was stunning. You were quite moved by the performance actually and noticed some tears had even pricked at Hannibal’s eyes as well. He was the first to stand and clap. You followed him after to the dinner portion where he seemed to know many more people than you did.

“It’s been too long since you’ve properly cooked for us, Hannibal,” one of the women he knew said. You hung at his side, nursing a glass of champagne. You were still amazed from the show and were happily eating food off of trays as they came by.

“Come over and I will cook for you,” he said simply. 

“I said properly. Means dinner and the show. Have you seen him cook? It’s an entire performance. He used to throw such exquisite dinner parties. You heard me. Used to,” she said teasingly, looking between you and Hannibal.

“It’s true, when you cook it is like a whole event,” you said. He gave you a look, chastising you with his eyes and you backed off. 

“I will again. Once inspiration strikes. I cannot force a feast. A feast must present itself,” he explained. Everyone around you seemed in awe. It was odd to see Hannibal in his element every place you went with him.

“I believe this young man is trying to get your attention,” she said and both you and Hannibal turned to an excitable man. You recognized him, he was one of Hannibal’s frequent patients. At least twice a week he came in. Hannibal swiftly gestured for you to take his arm and you did, curious to how this interaction would go.

“Hello,” Hannibal said simply.

“Hi! Nice to see you. This is my friend Tobias,” Franklyn, you were sure his name was, said. 

“Good evening,” Hannibal said simply again.

“How do you two know each other?” one of the women asked. 

“There should remain some mystery to my life outside the opera,” Hannibal said, dodging the question gracefully. 

“I’m one of his patients,” Franklyn said dumbly. So bluntly you were taken aback. “Who’s this? I didn’t know you were in a relationship,” Franklyn said, pointing to you. You shook your head quickly.

“She’s only a friend,” Hannibal said very narrowly. You were once again amazed at how he handled every conversation. You were beginning to wonder if you had ever seen him frazzled.

“She’s holding your arm,” Franklyn pointed out. You pulled your arm back swiftly and Hannibal let you.

“Simply for support,” Hannibal explained. You nodded. You wanted to call Will. But on the same note you weren’t mad at the cultural ‘elite’ thinking of you as Hannibal’s. It seemed like a nice place to be. “She and her boyfriend are friends.” You nodded and brushed a piece of your hair out of your face awkwardly.

“Ah one of those progressive couples,” one of the ladies said, pointing between the two of you. You were stunned at the idea but weren’t about to ignore how appealing that sounded.

“Not quite yet,” Hannibal joked. You laughed alongside him and still wondered, yet again, what the hell he meant by that.

-

When you woke up that morning Will was beside you. He hadn’t been when you fell asleep last night. You had stumbled inside, taken a shower and passed out on top of the covers. He was tucked underneath as the phone rang. You let out a moan at the early hour and he picked up the phone. You were too tired to make out the words but eventually your hearing and vocal ability came back to you.

“Jack,” he muttered. “Ripper.” He got out of bed, letting you know in two simple words where he was going. You sat up a bit and watched him get clothes out of the dresser.

“Good luck,” you told him, voice cracking from not being used all night.

“Where did you go last night?” he asked, voice equally slurred and tired. You wondered briefly how he noticed you had gone anywhere then remembered you dated the FBI’s best evidence guy.

“I went to the opera.” He turned to you, a judging eyebrow raised.

“For kicks?”

“I went with Hannibal.” He let out a scoff and you slid out of bed, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Do you not like him?” you whispered into his shoulder.

“I do. I don’t understand him though.”

“That makes two of us.” You felt the bond between the three of you and now you wondered if Will had felt it as well. You couldn’t be sure but you didn’t want to ask him yet. Not until you were sure yourself.

“How was it?” he whispered.

“How was what?”

“The opera.”

“Oh. Good actually. He cried,” you said. Will chuckled and turned around.

“I’ll have to point that out next time I see him for a session. Did you know they aren’t even really sessions? I guess they’re just friends talking,” he muttered thoughtfully.

“I do know that because we aren’t paying,” you teased.

“Go back to bed. I gotta go.” He kissed your forehead and you nodded, all too happy to slip back into sleep.

“Be safe.”

“I’ll try.”

-

You came into work and Hannibal had just pulled in. He had a break at the end of the day and was now into afternoon sessions, Will’s being the last on his list. You and Will pulled up together and you walked inside to make sure he was all settled. 

You walked into the office and Hannibal almost immediately ushered you out but he stopped, curious how the dynamic of the three of you in one room would play out.

“You’ve been drinking?” Will asked, gesturing to the glass on the table.

“I had a glass of wine with my last appointment,” Hannibal explained. 

“You drank with a patient?” Will asked. 

“You didn’t have a patient in the last two hours,” you said, out of instinct.

“She drank with a patient. I have an unconventional psychiatrist.”

“We have that in common,” Will said.

“Am I your psychiatrist or are we simply having conversations?” Hannibal asked.

“Yes I think is the answer to that question,” Will said.

“I should probably go,” you said, realizing you had stuck around longer than you usually would. Hannibal shrugged.

“If this isn’t a proper session, who's to say you have to go. We’re just having conversations and I just so happen to be a psychiatrist.” Hannibal said. “It’s completely up to Will.” You and Will locked eyes and he shrugged.

“Have a glass of wine with us,” Will said. You walked inside and sat on the desk, allowing the boys to have both chairs. Hannibal poured three glasses and handed you each one. “I hear you’ve taken my girlfriend to the opera,” Will said. Hannibal shrugged, sitting in his chair.

“It was an enlightening experience was it not?” Hannibal asked, gesturing to you with his wine glass.

“It was. We even ran into one of his patients who’s obsessed with him,” you said in a gossipy tone. 

“Oh?” Will said.

“I’m not at liberty to give details,” Hannibal digressed. “I hope you don’t mind that we went.”

“Not at all. I was teaching, I couldn’t have kept her entertained otherwise.”

“Hey, I like to come watch you teach,” you said, swallowing a bit of your drink. Will gave you a look and you smiled at him sillily.

“What was the class about?” Hannibal questioned. 

“The infamous Chesapeake Rippers old victims,” Will said. “How, who, when, where. Jack wants all minds on this.” Hannibal seemed intrigued.

“I would have liked to catch that one actually,” you said.

“Why's that?” Hannibal asked. 

“I don’t know. He’s alluring. Or she.”

“I’d bet on it being a he,” Will said bluntly.

“Well you are the expert,” you said. 

“But this last murder, I hear it’s also the Ripper?” Hannibal questioned. You leaned forward, putting your elbow on your knee as you sat on the table. 

“It’s not the same guy,” Will stated. 

“The victims were all brutalized. What was the brutalization hiding?” Hannibal questioned. 

“Careful, surgical removal and preservation of vital organs,” Will explained. This was more than you got during pillow talk. You were visibly intrigued. 

“Valuable organs,” Hannibal pointed out.

“Organ harvesting?” Will asked, surprised. 

“Jack Crawford’s looking for a serial killer he can’t seem to catch. It’s a brilliant diversion,” Hannibal pointed out. You shrugged.

“I’m not you guys but from what I know about the ripper he seems... I don’t know, more personal than that,” you said.

“If this is a different man however,” Hannibal pointed out.

“Organ harvesting under the cover of the ripper would be a good cover,” Will pointed out.

Hannibal looked between the two of you and smiled. He had planned to invite over Alana Bloom for dinner and a drink, cautiously talk about how years ago colleagues thought they were having an affair. Now he thought better of it. Perhaps all he needed was in this room. 

-

“I’m clocking out Hannibal,” you said, knocking on the office and opening the door cautiously. You knew that no one was in there, you had no more scheduled sessions for the day.

“You’re boyfriend has missed his appointment,” Hannibal pointed out, standing from his desk.

“You must have made that schedule without me present.” He showed you where he had written in Will’s name and nodded. “He’s likely at school. I was going to get him if you would care to tag along and chastise him.” He nodded.

“I would like that, yes.” 

You rode in your respective cars there and walked in together. You saw Will, eyes open but not really there. You hadn’t seen him like that before and you quickly walked over to him while Hannibal opted just for saying his name a few times.

“Will?” Will turned around and saw the two of you. He was strangely comforted whilst also being on edge about the dream he was just having about Abigail. “I have a 24-hour cancellation policy,” Hannibal said. You put your arm on his shoulder and he put his hand on yours as he stood up shakily. 

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Nearly 8,” you said.

“I’m sorry Hannibal,” Will muttered. 

“No apology necessary.”

“I must’ve fallen asleep.” Will turned to you. “Was I sleepwalking?” he questioned as though you hadn’t just gotten there.

“Your eyes were open but you weren’t there. No sleepwalking through,” you explained. 

“I felt like I was asleep. I need to stop sleeping altogether. Best way to avoid bad dreams,” Will muttered. Hannibal glanced over the crime scene photos that were sprawled across the desk to the side of the room.

“I can see why you have bad dreams,” he muttered. You and Will walked over.

“What do you see Doctor?” Will asked. 

“Sum up the Ripper in so many words? Words are living things. They have personality, point of view, agenda.” He looked over the pictures further. “Displaying one’s enemy after death has its appeal in many cultures.”

“These aren’t the Ripper’s enemies. These are pests he’s swatted,” Will said bluntly

“The reward for their cruelty?” Hannibal questioned. 

“He’s not bothered by cruelty. The reward is for undignified behavior. These dissections are to disgrace them. It’s a public shaming. “

“Takes their organs away because in his mind they don’t deserve them?”

“In some way.” 

It was almost an honor to watch them work. You didn’t put in any input that their minds wouldn’t come up with themselves. You just stood between them and watched. Hannibal picked up a picture of an arm. You recognized it.

“Miriam Lass?” you asked. Will nodded.

“She’s not like the other victims. The Chesapeake Ripper had no reason to humiliate Miriam Lass,” Will muttered.

“Seems to me he was humiliating someone when he cut off her arm,” Hannibal said. 

“He was humiliating Jack Crawford,” Will said.

“Have you considered your girlfriend as the Ripper?” Hannibal questioned and you scoffed. 

“I prefer a more direct approach.” 

“This isn’t direct enough for you?” Hannibal questioned. 

“Well Will, do you think it worked?” you asked. Will shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded.

“I’d say it worked really well.” 

Jack and Bev walked in then, holding a piece of paper.

“Doctor Lecter, Y/N, what a surprise.” He held up a paper and looked at Will. “We have a lead.”

“Maybe Y/N should stay,” Will said, going into overprotective boyfriend mode.

“No, she should come,” Hannibal said. “She wants to be a part of the FBI one day, consider this training.”

“Well how about it? Care to help us catch the ripper?” Jack asked. You shrugged. 

“How could I refuse?” Hannibal asked.

-

 You were driven to an ambulance garage. You waited in the car as they found out that the ambulance they were looking for was actually taken out and everyone was back rather quickly, driving quickly. 

“This is very educational,” Hannibal pointed out as Jack started to speed to a new location. You got out this time around and stuck close to Will and Hannibal as they approached the ambulance. 

Jack was in front and you heard a booming, “Show me your hands.” Followed closely by a loud, “Dr. Lecter!” 

Hannibal started to run over and you and Will followed but as a distance. There was a man in the back, his hands in a body. Will covered you instinctively but you pushed forward, watching as Hannibal climbed in without hesitation.

“He was removing the kidney. Poorly. I can reattach it,” Hannibal said.

“Do it,” Jack said. Hannibal worked quietly for a few seconds as the whole of the FBI held their breaths. 

“Do you have it?” Jack asked. 

“I’ve got it,” Hannibal replied. 

“Silvestri, show me your hands.” The man raised his bloody, gloved hands and stepped away. “Step out of the vehicle. On the ground. Hands behind your head,” Jack said. 

Yours and Will’s eyes were no longer on the mock Chesapeake Ripper. Instead you watched Hannibal work and his eyes fleeted up to the two of you and then quickly back down to the inside of a human.

-

“I have a butcher who carries sow’s blood. Centrifugate, separate the matter from the water. Creates a transparent liquid. Serve with tomatoes in suspension. Everybody will love the sweet taste,” Hannibal said as he walked around his kitchen quickly. “Are you sure the two of you can’t stay?” 

Will held a bottle of expensive wine in his hands beside you. You shook your head. 

“We have to head home and attempt to get Will to sleep a full night,” you said. Hannibal nodded in understanding. 

“How is Mr. Silvestri’s donor?” Hannibal asked.

“You saved his life,” Will said.

“Been a long time since I used a scalpel on anything but a pencil,” Hannibal said. 

“Why did you stop being a surgeon?” you asked. 

“I killed someone. More accurately, I couldn’t save someone. But it felt like killing them,” he explained. 

“You were an emergency room surgeon. It has to happen from time to time,” Will said. 

“It happened one time too many. I transferred my passion for anatomy into the culinary arts. I fix minds instead of bodies and no one’s died as a result of my therapy,” Hannibal said. You both nodded. 

“We should go. I’ve got a date with the Chesapeake Ripper before Y/N forces me into bed,” Will said. You hit his arm.

“Or is it rippers?” Hannibal asked.

“Devon Silvestri was harvesting organs but not with the Chesapeake Ripper. No connection between them,” Will explained, happy to be right once again.

“Jack must be devastated,” Hannibal said.

“We can only hope,” you muttered.

“Enjoy the wine,” Will said and you were both gone.

1x08

[collectionofcherries]

👀couldnt help but notice you talking about hannibal in your billy loomis imagine 👀 also couldnt help but to notice thats in your fandom list 👀 maybe you should shoot your shot with an imagine with hanni 👀

So over on my Naruto blog I did a little fluff piece called Morning Coffee that everyone seemed to enjoy so I thought I'd bring it here. It’s a simple concept, it follows your morning to the start of your cup to the end of it. Hope you enjoy! --- ☕ Morning Coffee ☕

---

written in the mind-frame of a Female!Reader but there are no pronouns mentioned nor gender specific anatomical body parts.  Warnings: None, flirting with the idea of smut but no actual smut. Sexual longing maybe? Word Count: 1,155

--- Hannibal Lecter

   Having coffee with a friend shouldn't have been this stressful, being this stressed in the morning couldn't be good for you but it wasn't like you could help it. How are you supposed to dress for morning coffee with a man who practically lives in three piece suits? Formal? Business casual? Casual casual? Your clothing covered floor seemed to bare no answers as you stared at what you swore was everything you owned...had everything always been this ugly? God! Why did you even propose a breakfast together? Hannibal does dinner but no you had to pitch breakfast to be different and try to impress him, yeah you're sure he'd be impressed by the amount of clothing on the floor. If you'd been like everyone else and just gone for dinner you'd have more time to try on clothes but a look at the clock told you that you had to leave now or you'd be late and that'd be terrible, that'd be rude and Hannibal can't stand people who're rude. However messy your floor was it was worth it for the compliment you got when Hannibal opened his door to greet you. “I don't see you in colour often, red looks lovely on you.”     Well, guess you're wearing red for the rest of your life.     "Oh thank you.” Finds it's way out of your throat as your face is painted the colour that apparently looks lovely on you.     “Please, come in.” He welcomes stepping to the side to allow room.    You never gave much thought to what a foyer could be, yours is technically where you just kick off your shoes and put your keys but this, this was proper foyer. Just the entrance to his house was nice. God it was big too, he could probably rent it out to a poor college kid for like 500 bucks if he wanted not that he looked like he needed the extra money. Did you even know how to say Foyer properly? You bet Hannibal did, without a doubt he knew all those fancy French words--was that word even French? Oh no, what if you were stupid and it wasn't French? What if this wasn't even a foyer? How dumb were you? H-- hands came up to your shoulders jolting you out of your spiral. Hannibal gently pulls the edges of your jacket and you immediately understand. “Thank you.” You repeat once again.    He smiles with a nod as he slides your jacket off of you with your help and hangs it up on a beautiful wood stand you're sure costs more than half your rent. Thinking about how much money was within these walls could make your head spin but that spinning is halted by the soothing tones of his voice. “Lost in thought?” He inquired.    “Uh, just early morning brain fog you know?” You try to bluff.    It's not convincing but he nods anyway. “Perhaps some coffee would help.”     “Sounds good.” You agree.    Following him through his house only furthers your awe, you could spent a lifetime in here just looking at stuff. “I thought it'd be pleasant to make breakfast together instead of having it ready, eating together is one experience but preparing a meal is another entirely.” He explained    The idea of sharing an experience with Hannibal was one that filled you with butterflies, the more you thought about it you didn't think you'd heard of Hannibal cooking with anyone else, maybe the stress of this morning would pay off after all. “I'm not a chef but I'll do my best, what're we making?”     “Uova al purgatorio.” Which leads to a bit of a blank stare on your end, as pretty as it sounds you've got no idea what that means. “It's an Italian dish, eggs in Purgatory.” He explained.    “Sounds interesting.” You quip.    “It is, the name comes from the eggs sitting in a tomato base, the white of the eggs floating within the red sauce giving the illusion of souls trapped within the unknown of Purgatory.” He explains as he prepares the boiling water for your coffee. “Even at breakfast it seems we wonder where our souls go to lay.”     “Well makes sense for Italy home of the Pope, I'm sure there's religious overtones at most meals.”    He smiles a little and nods. “During my time in Italy it truly does surround you, it's an interesting feeling, almost euphoric to be encapsulated by it at every

turn.” He remarked.    “Wow, you spent time in Italy? It looks beautiful there.” You say, trying to stray a little further from the religious aspect, you don't exactly know where Hannibal falls on that spectrum and the last thing you want to do is come across rude or disrespectful to him. “Coffee smells great.” You add as he pours the boiling water into his very fancy looking French Press.    Your attempt to change subjects doesn't go unnoticed at all but he once again nods as he looks at you. “Yes, I traveled quite a bit in my youth, I called Italy my home for some time.” He explains.     “Do you ever miss it?” You ask    “I take with me what I relish in the places I've been, while I may no longer be surrounded by the Primavera or the walls of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini they are ever present in my mind, reproduced with the utmost detail.” You could listen to Hannibal talk all day, it wouldn't matter what he said you just like the way he said things, the timbre of his voice. “Have you ever given thought to travelling?” He prodded.    “Course, who doesn't think about travelling? See far off places, experience new people, new things, different cultures.” You reminisce.    “What stops you?”     You shrug a little. “Funds mainly but I'd want to take the time to learn the language of where I'm going, understand the culture so I don't offend anyone. I don't want to be one of those tourists that makes an ass out of themselves.” You said cringing at the end.    “It's considerate to take the time to understand a culture you will not live in, many go on whims like they're visiting amusement parks.” He agreed. “Would Italy be a place you'd like to visit or would you find their taste for religion leaving a sour taste in your mouth?” He asked.    Did you really think you'd get out of a question Hannibal wanted answered? You shrugged a little once again trying to make sure you phrase things that wouldn't step on toes that were in shoes that likely cost more than your rent. “I'm unsure...I don't know if my broader and more open views would be welcome in the narrower scope of such a religious place and I wouldn't want to impose myself or my views upon anyone.” You slowly clamber out as he pours two cups of what smells like incredibly coffee. “Thank you.” You quickly add as you take it from his hands.    “While I do know you enough to welcome you into my home, I'm not sure if I know you well enough to know of the open views you believe would be scrutinized under the gaze of the Church. Do you speak a broader view of all religions? Racial rights? Sexual appetite?”     You stomach almost leaps into your throat at the last question, talking sexual appetites with someone who could feed that said appetite for the rest of your life? How were you supposed to talk about that? You didn't want to impose but you certainly didn't want to miss any chance of feeding that appetite. “All of the above, you know?” You pitch at first. “I'm a big believer in religious freedoms for everyone, from anywhere--just freedom for everyone in general.” You tackle first, that's the more important one and the one that won't get you into any trouble. “And um--yeah I suppose my sexual appetite wouldn't please the Church.” You say with a small laugh breaking your gaze from Hannibal and down at your coffee cup. “Not exactly a born again virgin.” Smooth. Great job. Wow. Fuck. Maybe you could drown yourself in this coffee? You take a sip and to spite being too shy to ask for sugar or milk this coffee is great, actually smooth. Unlike you. “This is great, what is this?” You try.    Why do you try? He always notices, you're luckier than you know that it endlessly amuses him rather than annoys him. “It's Peaberry Coffee from Tanzania, it's a rounder sweeter bean, almost tea like.” He explains, allowing for a moment for you to believe you've somehow fooled him into letting his prior question go thoroughly unanswered. “It can take a more refined palette to taste all the notes.” He remarks.    “I don't know how refined mine is, I just know it's nice.”

You admit with a small laugh.    “Usually our tongues know more than we think, close your eyes and allow the flavours to dance over your tongue.” He instructed.    Hannibal could tell you to jump off a cliff and if he said it nice enough you probably would. You take a small breath and take another sip and try your damnest to impress Hannibal if only even a little but as you swallow you know your guesses are little more than shots in the dark. “It's sweet...kind of like a berry...?” You weakly pitch.    You're not wrong but Hannibal can tell your guess isn't confident. “Do you know you have a habit of coming in on yourself when you're unsure of what you're saying?” He asks letting you know he's been on to you for much longer than you would have hoped. He comes around from his large kitchen island to stand in front of you and you fight the urge to step back and away which only adds to how hard your heart beats in your chest. “Coming in on ones self allows negative neurons to fire, by simply lifting your head you'll allude more confidence and though red looks lovely on you so does that.” That compliment alone made your head spin so his next action of bringing his warm hand up to gently lift your head? Your entire body felt weak. It was laughable that the simple touch of his thumb resting on your chin and his forefinger below it could have such an effect on you, looking up at him him with unsure eyes as to where this went next was laughable to him. You were putty in his hands, vulnerable in every meaning of the word. "Try again, close your eyes and when you take a sip allow it to work around your mouth, to explore every inch of your tongue.”    Was this porn? This could be porn, this might as well be porn as far as your body was concerned apparently. It took you a moment to actually get your limbs to move and grab your coffee again and it felt good to close your eyes, you liked Hannibal but being so close and having him stare back at you was overwhelming. And he knew it, there was something very satisfying about your kind of vulnerability, it was raw and open for him to touch and mold with his hands. You brought the cup to your lips and took another sip and once again tried to find a defined note in this coffee and maybe it was having your head tilted up, maybe it was having him so close but an answer did come from your mouth. “Cedar?”    Opening your eyes you knew you'd gotten it right by the contented look you were rewarded with. "I had a hunch your tongue knew more than you were letting on.” He teased.    He let his thumb trail back and forth on your chin before moving it away and your head felt like it was floating. “What does your tongue taste? I'm sure it's much more experienced than mine.”     You're sure if you didn't feel so floaty such a blatantly flirty question wouldn't have come out of you but it seemed to fly just fine as a small amused breath made it's way out of him. “Your assumption would be correct.” He let you know. “The notes in this coffee I've become very acquainted with over the years so it wouldn't be much of an exercise in taste for me to tell you them all. Perhaps another breakfast we could expand upon both our tongues.” Your entire body clenched and you had to practically drown out your whine of want by taking a sip of your coffee. “For now we'll be expanding on yours, come, wash up I'll show you how to make uova al purgatorio, a taste from my past.” He said walking back around the kitchen island.    You follow him around the island and with one last sip put your empty coffee cup into the sink. --- ~Admin Coral 🍒 Buy Me A Coffee?

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Always (or Dani, the collector of souls falls in love and Miles keeps passing out during the entire story)

If you were, hypothetically, of course, to visit a place in England called Bly Manor, you would most likely meet an odd group of people. You would see two children, one an absolute angel, the other a teenage, snarky brat of a boy, who are probably being supervised by a stern, yet extremely capable looking woman. You would probably be shown around the house by the sweetest housekeeper in the world, probably be offered lemon cakes by a tall man who looks at the aforementioned housekeeper with all the stars in his eyes. And maybe, just maybe in the middle of it all, you might glance outside and see a woman standing by herself in the garden. At first you would think she’s just moving casually, maybe dancing on her own; and then you would see that her movement has a pattern. It almost seems as though.... no, it couldn’t be.  

“Is that woman,” you would ask, hesitantly, not wishing to offend these people and some potential strange ritual of theirs, “talking to herself?”

The housekeeper (Hannah, you think she’s called) glances outside and chuckles. “Oh, that,” she says. “That’s just Jamie. Jaime’s the gardener. She’s just talking to her girlfriend.”

You would resist the urge to rub at your eyes. “Her.... her girlfriend?”

“Well, technically Dani hasn’t asked her yet,” the cook cuts in, smiling. “But it’s on the way, I assure you.”

You would look from the strange, solitary woman, to their frank, open faces, and then back to the solitary woman again, and you would think.

You would think Why, these people are absolutely fucking bonkers.

*****

(They’re really not)

*****

The first time Jamie saw the woman, it was from across the grounds, which is why it took her crossing halfway the distance to realize that she was breakdancing.

Then again, she had also got other things on her mind. Peter Fucking Quint had to go and fall off the parapet while attempting to rob the Wingraves of their old jewelry the night before last, and between helping Hannah communicate with the police, ensuring Owen received an adequate number of head pats every hour to calm him down, and offering Rebecca a listening ear for both murderous rants and angry tears, she had her hands completely full. And that wasn’t even including the kids, although they seemed to be doing fairly alright. Thankfully they had not seen the body. However, that didn’t deter Miles, who was currently going through a bit of a Hannibal phase, from popping up at random intervals to ask her what broken bones looked like, or if the blood had frozen overnight.

All in all, pretty exhausting.

Which is why the sight of the children standing in front of a breakdancing woman didn’t register at first. She was pulling out the weeds, sun high in the sky, sweat tracing an uncomfortable path down her back when something made her look up. One double take, and she was scrambling in their direction.

She reached them, panting, raised her head after her breath was a little more even and looked right at the woman, who was currently doing the robot. “Um,” she started, unsure of where to go from there. “Are — are you quite alright?”

The woman stopped abruptly, her mouth falling open. “You can see me?”

Okay, this woman was clearly mental. “Yes?”

The woman looked even more astounded. “You really can?” she turned to Flora next. “You too?”

Flora blinked. “Yes, we can.”

“But that’s impossible! You shouldn’t be able to see me. In fact—”

“Jaime, darling,” Miles cut in the middle of what seemed to be the beginning of a rapidly delivered monologue. “Could you escort this.... clearly insane lady outside?”

Jaime thwack-ed the side of his head gently. “Wanna try that again? Nicely?”

He looked sheepish. Not really a bad kid, that one, she thought. Just annoying.

“But you really shouldn’t be able to see me. By all calculations, it’s completely—”

“Well, why not?” Miles asked, now having warmed to the idea of possibly talking to someone who was crazy.

The woman brightened up. “Well, because,” she said, “this, I guess.”

And then she snapped her fingers, disappeared and reappeared on the other side of the lake, where she waved at them excitedly.

Flora is the only one who waved back. Jamie was too busy supporting the weight of a now-collapsed Miles.

*****

Jamie thought it was patently unfair that the reaper of souls was just so damn cute.

(They weren’t supposed to be cute! They were supposed to look gaunt and hollow, and angry and sad, not like sunshine wrapped up in a very human looking package. They weren’t supposed to be walking around with bright, blue, gorgeous eyes, and faces that seemed to have been sculpted by some divine power up there, and a voice that was sweet and soothing enough to put Jamie right to sleep.)

“It’s amazing how all of you can see me,” the reaper of souls, or Dani, as she had introduced herself, said, looking wide-eyed at all of them. Rebecca and a recently awakened Miles were the only ones who looked actively concerned, standing in the corner. Owen and Hannah were, as ever, polite and pleasant, if a little curious. Flora was already settled in next to Dani, asking her questions a mile a minute. And Jamie was—

(Very fucking annoyed at how pretty Dani was)

—completely alright.

“And you’re here to get Peter?” Owen asked her, with a sideways look in Rebecca’s direction.

“Oh yes,” Dani replied. “And boy, was that man a pain. Really whiny. Went all Boohoo I can’t be dead, I’m supposed to do so many things, I’m so cool and awesome and. Ugh. Annoying is what he was. I mean, the list says Peter Quint — died while trying to steal from Bly Manor; what am I supposed to do?”

They all nodded, a little dazed.

“And then I saw the kids and I was bored and I thought they couldn’t see me anyways so,” she continued, and then looked down, suddenly a little shy. “I really am sorry about the.... you know, breakdancing. I honestly thought nobody could see me.”

“It’s okay, it was cute,” Jamie found herself saying before she had time to process, and then wanted to stab herself with the fork lying on the table. If that didn’t work, bang her head on the surface until she bled to death. Or—

“Thank you,” Dani said, equally as quiet.

Jamie closed her eyes, willed her body to fall dead right then and there.

(It didn't work, unfortunately)

“Would you like to stay for supper?” he heard Owen ask their guest.

“Supper?” Dani asked. “Wait, is it already that late?”

Jamie looked up a moment later, when she heard everybody scream and then she opened her eyes to see a stranger standing right near the stove.

“Viola!” Dani said, alarmed. “I thought I sent a message I was gonna be late.”

The woman looked very haughty, very angry and (this is something she hated to admit, again, but) very fucking hot. Seriously. What was with these underworld people and ridiculously angelic skin? Her gaze moved past all of them, came to rest on Dani.

“I got your message alright,” she announced, blithely. “Just couldn’t figure out why you were still here.”

Dani chuckled, nervously. “So, funny story, but as it turns out — these people can — uh, see us?”

Viola tilted her head, regarded her. “Are you sure?”

“Hello,” Hannah said, ever the gracious host. “Welcome to Bly Manor.”

Viola looked flabbergasted now, doing a double take to look at all of them more carefully.

“They can see us?”

Dani nodded, gingerly.

“Seriously?”

Another nod.

“But that can’t be—”

“—Viola, I know, but—”

“—it simply cannot be allowed—”

“—absolutely not I know what you’re thinki—”

“—We have to end them!”

There was another whoosh right next to Jamie’s ear, and she took her time, turning around, only to see another pissed-off, hot woman, standing in the kitchen, her arms crossed.

“I didn’t even say kill!” Viola protested.

“You implied it!”

Their standoff was interrupted by a violent, abrupt thud. It seemed Miles had fainted again.

*****

Jamie walked into the greenhouse, paused and smiled.

“You cannot surprise me,” she said, aloud.

There was movement behind her, and then Dani walked into view.

“How do you always know I’m here?”

Jamie stayed quiet. There wasn’t a good, less-embarrassing way to say The air dances when you’re around, or I can feel your presence in the back of my neck, in the way my heart starts skipping steps on whatever treadmill it is currently running on.  

“Let me keep my secrets,” she answered.

Dani stayed beside her, as she started on the rose plants, a safe distance away, safe enough for Jamie to not feel like she would combust. “I got you something.”

“You’ve already given me so many things,” Jamie told her, hand rubbing at the back of her neck. It was true. Every time Dani had dropped in the past month, she’d brought little trinkets from her travels all over the world.  

(Travels was an excellent way of describing the action of harvesting the grumpy souls of the dead)

One time there had been crepes from Paris, courtesy the tourist guide who passed of a heart attack in a café. Another time it was one of Cerberus’ treats, because Jamie was eternally curious as to what hell dogs actually ate. The bone had been framed and now lay on one of her shelves back at home. One day, she had gotten macarons that Owen had scarfed down before Dani could get around to telling him they were filled with the eternal cries of the dead.

(He’d spent the entire day walking around convinced he was going to die. The doctor said it was indigestion)

She opened the neatly wrapped box and picked up the pomegranate. Turned it around in her hand, examined it.

“Aren’t these supposed to tie me down to the Underworld forever?” she asked, only half-serious.

“Gosh, no,” Dani said, nervously chuckling. “These are not that kind.”

Jamie waited.

“Um, so these,” Dani went on, “these seeds are kind of multi-purpose things? So basically you can eat them, but these seeds, when planted, they can grow any plant in the world. Doesn’t matter what soil they’re on. I mean, I heard you mention that flower you’ve always wanted to grow, but England doesn’t have the climate suited to it and — well. This would work.”

If Jamie could speak, this is what she would have said: I don’t know how to thank you. I don’t know why you’re here, why you give me so much of your precious time, time that you could be walking around the whole world in. I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around me, how to breathe, how to look, and I’m an utter godforsaken mess, but I’m eternally grateful you barged into our lives a while ago. I don’t know what I was doing before you came. I hope you never leave.

She would have said I know you collect souls, but there’s at least one heart lying in that bag of yours, and there’s a good chance it’s mine.

As it is, all she did was grab onto Dani’s hand, and squeeze.

*****

“You have got to stop doing that!” Owen gasped, hand on his heart.

Dani shrugged from on where she was now perched on top of the table, sitting directly in front of an open-mouthed Miles. “Hannah always knows when I’m here.”

“That’s because I really do have eyes everywhere,” Hannah turned around, smiled brightly at Dani. “Spaghetti?”

“I’ve been asking you for the past five minutes!” Jamie said, indignantly.

“Well, now we know who’s her favorite,” Dani shoots an infuriatingly smug grin in her direction, and pats the top of her head and—

Jamie would feel annoyed if her heart wasn’t racing and there wasn’t a blush fighting to make its way up her cheeks. This love thing was annoying.

(Not that it was love, of course. Certainly not)

“As charming as that sounds, Hannah darling,” Dani continued, “I actually came for a purpose.”

“Is it to set murderers on us again?”

“No, Miles,” Dani replied, patiently. “Plus, Viola and Perdita wouldn’t really have.... killed you. Maimed you, at best.”

Rebecca shuddered delicately on the other side of the table.

“Remember when you said you’d had a bit of a dinosaur phase when you were a kid?” Dani directed this towards Jamie.

“... yes?”

“Well,” Dani snapped her fingers, and to their extreme horror, a parrot sized creature appeared next to her, “meet Battery!”

“—completely house trained,” she heard Dani explaining to Hannah, while she extended a hand towards (what was he called? Right) Battery. He opened his mouth, stepped closer, licked the entire length of her finger with a long, slimy tongue, and then immediately nipped at her nail.

(Jamie may or may not be helplessly charmed)

Before she could say anything, however, Miles fell from his chair onto the kitchen floor.

Rebecca sighed, got up from her chair. “You guys know there’s going to be permanent brain damage if he keeps doing that.”

*****

About three things went wrong the day Jamie decided she was finally going to tell Dani she was in love with her.

The first thing was that she needed to get drunk, and decided to trust Owen and Hannah to deliver. The second was that Battery wasn’t adequately educated in the intricacies of human weirdness and tended to panic at the first sign of strange behavior. Third, lakes weren’t the most romantic places to confess your love, but apparently nobody had told Jamie this.

So when she found herself flailing for breath after having somehow made her way to the middle of the lake in a makeshift lifeboat and then having upturned it in the process, she only had herself to blame.

“What,” Dani started, looking absolutely furious, hair all over the place as she held Jamie up, “the fuck were you doing in the middle of the lake?”

“Hey!” Jamie sang, because the alcohol was making her feel very sing-song-y, “You shouldn’t be here yet! It’s not time!”

“Battery panicked and summoned me,” Dani explained. “Are — are you drunk?”

“No, she’s not!” Hannah called out from where she and Owen had just reached the lake. “We gave her loads of strong bitter soda and convinced her it was watered down whiskey.”

(Now that she was thinking about it, the whiskey had seemed pretty fizzy for her liking)

“Oh,” she Jamie, now sobered up. “But I was drowning.”

“Yeah, in about five feet of water.”

Well, that was anticlimactic.

*****

At midnight, she sat by the lake, covered in a warm, fuzzy blanket Dani had draped all over her. Dani sat beside her, Battery on her lap, smiling at her from time to time.

“You’re such an idiot,” she said, out of nowhere, and Jamie didn’t have the heart to disagree. “What am I even going to do with you?”

“You could,” Jamie started, ponderously, like she hadn’t spent three months of her life thinking this over, like her heart wasn’t an over-excited ping-pong in her chest right now, “you could always take me out on a date, you know?”

“Really?” Dani murmured. “Well, that’s a novel idea.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Depends. Would you be okay dating someone who is almost constantly grumpy from carrying around beleaguered souls all day?”  

Jamie pretended to think. “I think so, yes.”

“Someone who regularly hangs out with a murder-friendly woman?”

“.... maybe?”

“How about someone who may have to keep going away for lengths of time?”

Jamie turned to her. “Would that someone come back to me, though?”

Dani’s eyes were shiny and hopeful, and she felt her breath get stuck in her throat like a lovesick little fool. “Always,” Dani whispered.

“Well, then,” Jamie whispered back to her, and then leaned in for the most picture-perfect happy ending of all time.

[jaisaac-cosplay]

Long Read:

The Fall (Hannigram One Shot)

When Hannibal pulled them both from the treacherous ocean, choking on bloodied water and strangled words, for once in his life he'd been rendered speechless. Not so much that Will threw him over -- that Will came with him.

So, hours later, collapsing in one of Hannibal's many safehouses, Hannibal turned to a trembling Will and spoke.

"You intended me to die," he said plainly; Will nodded once, tersely, cupping his cheek. He met Hannibal's piercing gaze. "Did you intend to drown yourself as well?"

Will said nothing for a moment, then uttered, "yes." Hannibal nodded, readjusted his own bandage, and stared out the window.

He was... pleased? Confused, mainly, he thought with a frown. Although, with his family gone, destroyed, Will had had nothing left to live for.

Nothing except Hannibal.

"Why?" Hannibal asked slowly. He wanted to hear Will say it, at least once. Will took a shaky breath, cracked a watery smile as he looked down.

"What do you think?"

"I think this is a case of codependency and pining for the worst of the world." Hannibal's response punctured the air. He cast his eyes to Will.

"You made sure I had nowhere else to turn," Will breathed, sinking into the surprisingly plush chair, well-worn. "Made sure that it was just you and I in your perfect world."

"I never intended to throw us into the ocean."

"The only way it could have ended." Will opened his eyes to study him, clear and bright.

Hannibal smiled, then, small. "So now what happens? We go round and round with last ditch efforts to kill each other?"

"We're two sides of the same coin," Will mused as he studied his hands. "It wouldn't matter." Hannibal paused a moment.

"Did you mean it?" He stared at him. "Was it truly beautiful? To take that man's life?"

Will didn't have to hesitate before muttering "yes." He took a shaky breath, then continued. "He... killed families. Slaughtered them."

"Thus deserved to be killed," Hannibal concluded, looking at him still -- Will met his stare.

"Yeah."

The silence was enveloping like a blanket; Will sank into it and allowed himself a moment to breathe. If either of them worried about the other trying to kill them, it was a well hidden fact. Either way, Will was too exhausted to worry about it now; Hannibal would kill him when the time was right.

"You should rest," Hannibal commented as he stood from the armchair, keeping a hand to his stomach. Will stood, too.

"What are you going to do?"

Hannibal sighed -- more pained than he'd intended to. "I need to secure us this place, and make sure it's safe to remain."

"Will you be back?" Will asked the question before he realised it, then it hit him what he said when Hannibal gave him a rueful smile.

"Worried for my safety, Will?" He didn't give him time to confirm or deny; he read his face, and knew the answer. "I'll be back shortly. Rest."

Will watched him go, standing prouder than his injury permitted. Hannibal disappeared into the night and the urge to leave this life, never look back, flooded Will's mind.

He collapsed on the couch, got himself comfortable and pulled a blanket over his legs. He wouldn't let his guard down, he told himself. Had to be ready for whatever scheme Hannibal had cooked up, because this was his choice: he didn't have any others.

It was just him and Hannibal in their little world.

When Hannibal returned to find Will half-asleep on the couch, he paused to drink in the sight -- his face relaxed, Will looked ten years younger. Beautiful.

Hannibal moved carefully to his side, then tucked a throw blanket over his shoulders, wary of disturbing him. Even then Will shifted and blinked tired blues up at him, and Hannibal had to smile.

"There's no need to sleep with one eye open, Will," he said quietly. "You're safe here." He stepped back, continued around the corner.

"Hannibal?"

He stopped in his tracks.

"Thank you." Will's voice sounded small, even to him, and he hated himself for it -- but manners were always due. Hannibal smiled at him over his shoulder.

"You're welcome, Will." Hannibal disappeared into his own room to leave Will with the emptiness of the air and his own spiralling thoughts.

////

Hannibal was surprised to find Will awake before himself. It was still dark out, early in the morning, and Hannibal became even more surprised to see a bedheaded Will Graham cooking in his kitchen.

Will. Cooking. In his kitchen.

Hannibal rushed in to help. "If you wanted breakfast you should have woken me."

Will looked up, casually as ever. "This is my... apology," he said, plating something on the dish before straightening up, "for throwing us off a cliff."

Hannibal studied it apprehensively. Steak, toast and a heap of scrambled eggs. He accepted the plate suspiciously.

"Thank you," he said instead of the many other quips he wanted to make. Will was making amends -- Hannibal would try, too.

"Do you think Jack will come looking for us?"

Hannibal liked the casual use of us, he realised, especially when said so calmly by Will, looking at him in a way Hannibal can't discern.

"With The Dragon gone and us perished at sea," he mused, twirling his fork, "I doubt he would have reason."

"Still, we should cover our tracks," Will murmured as he folded his arms, glancing out the window to the cold unwelcoming day. Hannibal would have followed his gaze -- just studied him and smiled to himself.

"If you can think of a better way to cover our tracks than faking our death, I would love to hear it," he pointed out instead. He could almost see the gears turning in Will's mind.

"The only real threat we have is ourselves," Will surmised and smiled at him, grimly. "Each other."

"As it should be." Hannibal focused on the food; he was surprised he didn't find it revolting. Will watched for a moment, echoes of who they used to be watching over them both like shadows -- it wasn't just Will and just Hannibal on their own, anymore -- it was Will and Hannibal who had fled to live better lives after both being assured in mutual madness.

Will sipped his coffee. There was something beautiful in that, madness, he mused, eyeing Hannibal briefly. Something scary but beautiful all the while.

"So," Hannibal said as he finished his meal, placing the cutlery gently down. "What do we do next?"

Will held his piercing gaze, didn't shy away. He smiled. "We finish our design."

////

:)):) writing! Here is the finished one shot!!

[butterflyinthewell]

Dad took some steps today. He needed the therapist right there because he was so off balance that he would’ve fallen without support along with his walker. One of his feet is curling sideways and inward because he hasn’t been putting weight on his feet. That will be a problem and he may need a brace to straighten that out. It’s related to the whole “don’t use it and you lose it” aspect of Parkinson’s disease, and I was afraid of this.

I hope he gets to walk again as much as he could before because he will be stuck in one room for the rest of his life if he doesn’t. I think that’s the one incentive that makes him want to get back on his feet. My fear is he will then proceed to get up at night like he was doing when he got hurt in the first place. He still keeps mom awake till 3 and 4am because she’s a people pleaser who will give until she’s dead. Black hole people like my dad love finding bleeding hearts like my mom.

I’ve told mom to just put her foot down and go to bed, but I stayed up once to see what really happens. Dad whines and complains if mom says she’s going to bed. Suddenly he will want to be put on his bedside commode (which takes forever and then you wait for him to go and heave him back into bed), or he will want a sandwich or just anything that makes mom have to be busy on his behalf until she’s wide awake again when she was sleepy enough for bed before.

Just...AUGH...every good thing always comes with shit right behind it.

I think I’m going to ask my counselor or psychiatrist if there’s a way to screen for ptsd. My mental health is in the toilet and I’m having bizarre dreams and nightmares several times a week. My sleep is disrupted now, and that’s never been a thing for me. I’m constantly hyper vigilant. I’m having anger outbursts and the kinds of thoughts that intrude upon my mind are horrible.

If something happens to mom, I am helpless in all the issues that matter. Food, I can figure out, but I’m worse than useless for everything else. I cannot move dad to his commode or wheelchair, and he needs some support to move onto them. I’m too small, he outweighs me by over 100 pounds.

Most of my bad dreams are things happening to my mom, or there’s word that something happened and I can’t get any info on if she’s okay or not. Another kind I have is I’ve contracted COVID, or someone who comes in to see us has it and spreads it, and I’m the only survivor. Other dreams are the body horror type where I amputate my own body parts with a saw and hand them to people because I feel useless. I had one recently where I literally ran up to Hannibal Lecter with a knife and fork and told him to eat me, but he took the silverware away and wouldn’t do it because “no, you’re not rude.” I said I was, but he wouldn’t do it. I was so angry! I was angry about that dream all day!

I don’t believe I deserve anything good and I don’t see myself as a good person. I don’t deserve help.

I’m scared a lot. Just...I can be sitting here watching a cute kitten video on YouTube or eating dinner and get hit with a wave of fear.

None of this is how my mind usually works. I’ve never been in mortal danger(recently), but I’ve had my routines and life disrupted to such severe degrees that I feel like I’ve lost control of my life, and to me that’s almost the same thing as dying. I’m autistic, and autistic people are more prone to trauma from ‘mundane’ things that a neurotypical person wouldn’t flinch at.

I’m just worried the “not life-threatening” aspect will immediately disqualify a diagnosis.

In June 2019, I went into burnout after home health visits for dad threw all my routines away and they’re still getting destroyed by it because they can’t keep a consistent fucking routine.

July that year was my dad getting his DBS batteries replaced. It was sensory hell because I got my period the day of the surgery and spent the whole time nauseated and cramping, but being silent about it...only to get called selfish and horrible for mentioning how bad I felt after we were all home again. (Outpatient surgery)

September 2019, mom’s gallbladder almost blew up and she was rushed to the hospital. I was alone with dad, without warning, and had to function using emergency reserves that I didn’t have because I was in burnout. I ran around terrified that any mistake I made would get me screamed at by both my dad and sister. Mom was out of the house from Friday to Tuesday. Dad did nothing but demand and demand from me and yelled at me for melting down. I was almost out of meds and for awhile didn’t know if or when I would get them. I had to grocery shop with sister’s help and she kept getting upset at me for arranging the cart like mom did, and I ended up forgetting things I needed even though I had a list right in front of my face the whole time. I was that out of it.

An aid had to come bathe dad because mom couldn’t do it for at least six weeks. That happened whenever someone could come, so dinner, my showers and mom’s ability to do things were disrupted by waiting for the call that the aid was coming. Coverage only lasted six weeks and then the help was yanked the second mom was declared fit to lift more than 5 pounds again.

October 2019, our car died and so routines got thrown further out of whack because mom and I had to depend on friends and family for rides to grocery shop or go to church. Trips stopped being at a set time and turned into “whenever someone can drive you” so I was uprooted from my day with little warning, and we didn’t get a new car until early December.

December 2019: We Christmas shopped late because of the car bullshit, mom barely got the cookies baked in time, and it was just a super stressful Christmas season.

I struggled through the death anniversary of my dog because that year he was gone as many years as he had lived and I spent most of it in a disassociated state.

Then mom had her bowel obstruction the day after Christmas and was in the hospital from Friday to Sunday. Yet again she was gone and the routine was blown apart without warning. My sister gave me shit the first time I wore my new ear defenders to the grocery store. Dad did nothing but demand and demand from me when I had nothing. I ruined a dinner that I didn’t know how to cook and went hungry but made him eat leftover ham from Christmas.

January 2020, the COVID shit started on the news.

March 2020, I went to the grocery store with mom and shelves were empty like a nuclear war was coming. I was terrified that I would catch COVID and kill my parents by passing it to them. Church closed. Stores opened for senior hours at butthole o’clock in the morning. Weekend routines were destroyed. Choir practices stopped. More routine disruptions.

August 2020, I started having anniversary distress related to what happened to mom the year before.

Then dad fell and broke his hip. I still clear as day see him in his blue shirt, sitting on the stair chair, being pulled backwards out the front door by paramedics with the ambulance lights flashing red and blue under the midnight sky and white street light.

Late September, as I’m struggling a bit with the anniversary of what happened to mom, worrying about dad getting COVID and beginning to relax because “dad is going to be away till he can walk again...” there comes that phone call from shithole New Orange Hills saying they’re sending him home and we find out they lied to us about every promise they made.

October 2020, dad was brought home and now he’s laying in an electric bed in the family room where mom can hear him if he needs her.

Writing that down has me realizing I’ve been experiencing almost continuous upheavals to my routines. Routines give me a sense of safety, and every time things settle something else throws it all to shit again.

So either I have ptsd or I’m possibly developing it, and I’m scared because this seems so ridiculous compared to the reasons other people get it.

[twohornycannibals]

#49 🥴

#49: “I’m too sober for this shit.” 

(this is like double the length of my usual one-shots and I tried something new, but I hope you like it! I’ll post it on AO3 as well! thanks for the prompt, sorry it’s late hhghg)

The evening air was calm and still like it was many nights. Dining with Dr. Lecter has become familiar to Will, it made him feel grounded and of course, the doctor couldn't deny his patient anything that might help. He didn't read into that much, enjoying the calm discussions that bled from his sessions into their dinners. It was simple, almost casual. Though anything with Dr. Lecter felt a tad too distant from Will's reality to be casual. But he enjoyed the strangeness of Dr. Lecter's world. It was distracting and made Will feel almost normal. 

Tonight Hannibal was cooking, as per usual, although this evening was quieter than most. Will had missed his session the day before, apologizing deeply upon his arrival at Hannibal's house that night. This hadn't been planned, normally a day in advance at least, but there he had appeared on Hannibal's doorstep. Apologetic and holding a bottle of cheap wine, looking like he had just fully awoken from some state of dissociation. Hannibal had been relieved seeing Will alive and accounted for, letting the worry fade when Will awkwardly smiled and asked if Hannibal was cooking for one more that night. He was mid cooking and when Will mentioned it he quickly ushered him inside and made his way back into the kitchen. 

Now as they lingered in the kitchen, Will fully took in Hannibal. It was weird when he had been greeted at the door with Dr. Lecter, apron on and sleeves rolled up to leave his forearms exposed. He admired the movements of the doctor as he cut vegetables and added them to a sizzling pan. Focused so completely on his food and not his guest, it was almost out of character. Will found it even more relaxing than their usual banter. Right as Will had settled into the quiet, observing state, feeling as though Hannibal might've forgotten he was watching, his gaze was met.

"Excuse me, Will. I tend to get lost in my own little world here." A smirk on his lips as he looked back down at something he was mincing. Whatever he was making smelled amazing, the air in the kitchen warm. Will shrugged and looked away, smile on his lips too.

"It's alright, doctor." He didn't add that it was nice to see the doctor in a natural place. No borders, just Hannibal Lecter and his strange cuts of meat that were sure to taste amazing. 

"Do you have a place like this, Will?" He turned his back to Will as he spoke, stirring something and then tasting it. When Will gulped and hesitated with a response, he looked back. "You're own little world?" The eye contact wasn't unwelcome, over the past few weeks and sessions Will had realized that the doctor didn't make him nearly as uncomfortable as others. 

"I suppose I'm in my own world when I go fishing, or when I take care of my dogs. But it's hard to find those times these days," he gulped again as he talked as if he felt guilty for admitting his extreme lack of self-care. He wasn't sure he felt guilty though, things had been distracting. It wasn't his fault. More or less. Hannibal nodded as he put a lid on the pan. 

"I hope that our time together is some form of escape, however dull I may seem in comparison to the company of your dogs." There was sarcasm in his voice as leaned against the counter, watching Will sympathetically. 

"If you are making me feel guilty for missing our session yesterday, it's working." Will half-joked back, but he did feel guilty. "Which I am sorry for," Meeting those somehow caring eyes that were peering at him softly. "I assume you know that's why I am here tonight." 

"A welcome guest, always." Will had begun to fidget, guilty for something that wasn't entirely his fault. The doctor's lips in a soft smile, Will continued.

"I am sorry, I seem to have..." Avoiding the doctor’s gaze, embarrassed to admit his brain. It always felt like a mood ruiner regardless of the fact they're relationship was that of a doctor and a patient. Not officially. Maybe that's what drew them to lean on a friendship. 

"Lost time again?" Hannibal asked as he crossed to the kitchen island where Will was standing. He nodded bashfully, the scary reality of the last day settling under his skin. "Nothing to be ashamed of Will, it is natural to fear that which you don't know especially when it comes to your own mind. If it may comfort you, please share what you remember. I am here to care for you, aren't I?" Will laughed at that but when he met Hannibal's gaze he just shook his head. 

"It seems it's something that you are good at, Dr. Lecter." A wild amount of skill and care in every meal, every question asked, everything about Hannibal was oddly comforting. "It's hard to talk about when there isn't much I remember." Hannibal nodded, eyes steady on Will as his gaze flickered about anxiously. 

"What's the last thing you remember before waking up again, Will?" The air had grown cold, the energy very different from the earlier silence. 

"I was in Jack's office, talking about a case that's been surprisingly difficult. A spree of killings out near Wolf Trap, there's a link I can feel it but it hasn't clicked yet..." His voice trailed off as he met Hannibal's interested gaze. "Anyways, we had wrapped up for the evening when Dr. Bloom stopped me outside to talk but... I don't remember what it was about. I remember being worried I would be late for our appointment but, that's it." Hannibal was silent for a moment, taking in what Will. When he caught Will’s anxious gaze, he nodded his head and parted his lips.

“That's unusual.” He stated, moving back to stir something. Will watched his back carefully, scoffing slightly.

“No shit,” Hannibal tensed and glanced back at Will apologetically. “Sorry. Lots of things are unusual with me.” The smile on his lips was sarcastic and grime, wanting the nice silence back. Hannibal crossed his arms and crooked his head. The way his apron was tied around his waist, sleeves rolled up, hair falling slightly in front of his face, sweating slightly from the heat of the kitchen. There was something attractive about him that Will shrugged off.

“That is true. But together we will figure out how to live with and fix those things?” His voice was questioning as he shifted to get plates, turning the stove off. Will nodded silently as he watched Hannibal design the plates with food. It was silent again, completely focused on the presentation as if it mattered to his guest. Will knew he didn't care what Will thought, he did this all for himself. He was sure the doctor had beautiful meals all alone, but he knew he was appreciative of the shared delight in it. He stepped back, finding a towel to wipe his hands off on. When he met Will’s gaze he sighed softly, making Will feel oddly cared for. 

“What?” He asked into the gaze, soft eyes with pity and care. Hannibal smiled as he took his apron off and folded it politely, leaving his sleeves rolled up. There was no doubt Hannibal would momentarily excuse himself to change into something more appropriate.

“Exhaustion makes a home in your body, although I know it is not uncommon I can't help but see the world wearing down on you, Will.” That made Will groan, he was exhausted but he hated when Hannibal perceived him.

“Could've just said I looked tired,” Hannibal smirked at Will, making him blush slightly. He didn't know why; this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He picked up the plates, knowing Will would trail behind him. 

“I'm a man of many words.” Will snickered at his words,

“And I'm too sober for this shit-” but before he could ask for a drink his voice trailed off as Hannibal missed the dining room and set the plates down on the coffee table in his living room. It was a strange room, not frequented as often. Will looked at Hannibal confused from the dining room, watching as he turned to meet Will’s gaze.

“Would you like a drink?” Ignoring Hannibal’s humorous eyes, Will looked as though he was seeing a ghost. Hannibal noticed his confusion, of course, and laughed slightly. “Come sit, we can eat somewhere more comfortable, Will. Your body deserves some rest.” He hesitated as he walked to Hannibal and sat on the couch. Hannibal? Eating in the living room? What was happening?

“This is out of character.” Hannibal sat across the couch from Will, still weirdly underdressed, picking up his plate and fork and setting in his lap; legs crossed and feet only covered in socks. Will stared at him baffled, the way he settled into the couch preparing to eat. Before he took a bite, he met Will’s confused gaze and processed what he had just said. 

“No one is purely a single character, are they?” Will was still looking at him in disbelief but took his food before it got cold. When Will rolled his eyes, Hannibal taunted again. “My apologies, Will, I understand you are too sober for this shit.” Hearing the doctor swear made Will start laughing, leaving Hannibal the confused one. 

“I don't think I’ve heard you curse before, Dr. Lecter.” He explained, taking a bite of his food and sighing happily. Hannibal smiled, at either the reaction or Will’s insistence to call him doctor, he wasn’t sure.

They returned to comfortable silence as they ate, Will mumbling his thanks when he set his plate onto the table and leaning into the cushioned armrest, facing Hannibal. Once Hannibal finished, he turned his attention fully to Will. Arms crossed protectively across his chest, feet cured beneath him as he cozied into the corner of the couch. It was endearing, the exhaustion taking over and leaving Will unable to be embarrassed or anxious. His eyes fluttered slightly, trying not to close.

“Making yourself comfortable?” Hannibal leaned forward, watching Will with such care that Will felt like he might be breakable. Maybe he was. 

“You really care about me?” Will said before he could stop himself. Part of him wished he had gotten a drink so he could blame his actions on the alcohol, but he guessed if he said anything stupid he could blame it on being tired. So tired. 

“Of course I do, Will. You are my patient, it's my job.” He said it softly and with care, although part of it was cold. Will shook his head, sitting up more awake.

“No, don't say that bullshit,” Hannibal looked at him curiously. “You wouldn't do this for any patient, would you?” That yearned a smile from Hannibal. Will was confident while sleep-deprived. 

“And you're oh so very special?” Will flushed but rolled his eyes, hand fidgeting. He was special to Hannibal, both Hannibal and he knew that. 

“You would do anything for me,”  It came out soft, a realization. Like he hadn't put it together until right then.

“And what makes you think that?” He was pushing as he did in their sessions, he wanted the answers badly and he didn't hide it on his face as Will moved closer.

“You let me eat the fancy dinner you made me on your couch, Hannibal.” The way he said Hannibal’s given name made him shiver with joy, something he didn't know he was missing. He looked so content Will couldn't help but inch closer again. “What wouldn’t you do for me?” It was presumptuous but he wanted to push Hannibal's buttons. He chuckled, watching Will so carefully.

“I simply made you dinner and let your body rest more comfortably.” Eyebrow crooked, gaze humorous again. Will groaned annoyed. “What would you like me to do, Will?” That's when he leaned till their foreheads were touching and their noses brushed together. Hannibal's breath hitched and he tried to cover his reaction. That just made Will more confident. 

“Kiss me, bastard.” So he did. It was gentle, slow, so delicate. Will hadn't purposefully imagined this, but it tasted better than he thought. Hannibal smiled into the kiss as his hand found Will's cheek, cupping it gently. The contact made Will soften and he broke their lips to nuzzle his head into Hannibal’s neck. Arms wrapping around his back, pulling him closer to comfort his own tired body. Hannibal laughed as he entangled his fingers in Will's hair,  his other hand cupping his waist to hold him close. 

“I would do anything, Will.” Gently kissing his head and rubbing his back as Will adjusted so he was sitting in Hannibal’s lap properly. “Still want that drink?” He joked, losing all sense of his strange riddles and long-winded advice. There was nothing left to him but his want to care for the tired man in his arms. Will just hummed into his neck and pushed him back until they were lying on the couch, Hannibal covered in Will’s body. 

“I'm too tired…” His body language had gone loose and weak, his voice mumbled. Hannibal pet his hair and smiled in contentedness.

“Then sleep, dear boy. Sleep.”

[meteora-writes]

We Could Be Perfect One Last Night ch.4

Fandom: Hannibal Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham Warnings: Pain, Talk of Feelings, Angst, Talk of Murder, Talk of Cannibalism Chapter: 4. Please Understand Description: Jack is still being an irritable asshole. Will and Hannibal make a few things clear to one another. Authors Notes: I struggled with the dialogue in this one, so please forgive me if it sounds a little OOC. Read on AO3

~~~~~ Read Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3~~~~~

“Dash-cam from the stolen cruiser confirmed that Dolarhyde was the last one moving about the property after Graham and Lecter entered the home. No sign of anyone coming or going from around the house or the surrounding treeline after that. If they didn’t fall into the ocean, they sure as hell didn’t climb back up any part of the bluff around the house and leave on foot,” Zeller informs Jack as he walks into his office. “Which isn’t surprising, given there was no evidence of anyone having done that.” The annoyance in his voice is loud and clear. He’s been over all the evidence they got before the storm hit. There’s no way Will and Hannibal got back up that cliff and left the way they came. They fell into the ocean below the bluff without question. No way around it.

“Then find me where they got out of the water and where they went from there. I refuse to believe they drown after everything we saw.” Jack feels ready to start shouting. The urge to bubbling up inside his chest. He’s spent the morning pouring over evidence. Making phone calls. He even tried to contact Alana Bloom and Dr. Du Maurier to get their insight as well as get them both into protective custody. Neither will return his calls and he’s waiting for the agents he sent to their homes to report in.

“Jack, you need to accept the possibility that they didn’t make it out of the water. It’s the middle of February. It was thirty degrees out at the estimated time they killed Dolarhyde. Even with the average temperature of the ocean being higher than the air temperature this time of year, the amount of time it would take them to swim ashore along with the amount of blood they both clearly lost makes their survival rate slim at best. And that’s assuming they made it to one of the nearby summer homes. None of which show any signs of forced entry,” Zeller argues further. He doesn’t like the idea any more than Jack does. But he doesn’t think he can ever look Will in the eye again if he did survive. Not after seeing how brutally he and Hannibal took down Dolarhyde.

“I am well aware of the lack of evidence, Z, and I do not need a science lesson right now. I am aware of what the temperatures were last night and of their odds of survival. Now kindly return to your lab before I get any angrier,” Jack grits out before grabbing a stack of reports from the corner of his desk to start rifling through.

Zeller looks ready to argue, but closes his mouth and walks out without another word. He does however slam the door behind him.

Jack watches him go before heaving an irritated sigh and rubbing at his forehead. He feels a headache coming on. Likely due to too much caffeine. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee as he tries to pour through everything they have on both Lecter and Graham as well as the field reports as they come. He knows Hannibal well enough to know he’s always got a backup plan of some sort. The trick is connecting the puzzle pieces to find out what it is.

It makes him wish Will was there. Which only serves to anger him further. He should have known better. He let Will’s reluctance and the fact that he had a wife and son now convince him that Will wouldn’t go off with Hannibal. That he had changed and he wouldn’t be drawn to him like he was before.

“Because I wanted to run away with him.”

“Part of me will always want to.”

Jack curses under his breath as he remembers Will’s words from years ago.

A buzzer cuts through his train of thought, drawing his attention to the phone on his desk. With a growl of annoyance, he pressed the button for the intercom. “What is it?”

“Sir, Molly Graham is on the line. She wants to speak to you and she doesn’t sound happy,” the agent on the other line informs him.

“Thank you.” Jack briefly looks up to the ceiling and prays that she has some useful bit of information to help them find Will. He picks up the receiver then and clicks over to line two, which is lit up with a waiting call. “Mrs. Graham.”

“What the hell did you do, Jack! Where is my husband!” Her angry voice cuts through the speaker, making Jack wince. He was hoping whoever broke the news to her would do so in a way that explained everything. Apparently they did not.

With a tired sigh, he rubs at his forehead with his free hand once more and begins to explain what’s happened.

~~~~~

It’s sometime in the early afternoon when Will finally wakes again. Not that he really wants to.

His body still aches. Head throbbing sharply with the beat of his heart. He feels like he’s been cracked open and parts of him are spilling out with every beat. The only thing that helps him through the initial shock of pain is the feeling of what is definitely a warm, solid body pressed against part of his back. His sleep-addled mind connects the dots slowly. He knows where he is. Who he’s with. And he’s just too tired and miserable to be bothered or feel much of anything about that fact aside from relief that he isn’t alone.

Hannibal is asleep behind him. Breathing soft and even. Barely audible thanks to the crackle of the fire and the howl of the wind outside. There’s a distinct patter of freezing rain hitting ice somewhere above. The storm they had outrun having arrived a few hours ago blanketed the area in a layer of fresh snow before it changed to freezing rain.

Lifting his head with a wince and gasp at the way the change in position makes it throb and his vision go black a moment, Will steadies himself and looks out the closest window. It’s a dreary shade of gray out as sleet comes down at a harsh angle thanks to the winds that accompany it.

“You really should lay back down, Will. Overexertion will only make the pain worse,” Hannibal mutters sleepily as he shifts on the mattress behind Will. It’s more obvious now that he’s simply resting on his back behind the younger man, his arm pulled over his own chest in a way that allows Will’s back to press against his side. Giving them both a bit of extra warmth and comfort without making either man feel trapped or particularly awkward.

“I don’t think there is anything I could do right now that wouldn’t make the pain worse,” Will replies softly as he lets his head lower slowly back to his pillow. Even that is painful. So much so that he momentarily wishes he hadn’t woken up so soon.

A soft hum of understanding comes from Hannibal, who isn’t making any move to get up yet now that he’s awake. “Perhaps something to eat would do you good? I could prepare some soup if you like?”

Will can’t help but snort a laugh at that. The thought of Hannibal cooking anything that comes from a can feels like a joke. “I don’t need you to make me soup, Hannibal.”

The bed dips slightly as Hannibal sits up, and it makes Will shift and roll onto his back to look up at the older man. “I know you don’t. I simply offered because I intend to make myself something to eat as well. It’s really no trouble.”

Studying him a moment, Will sighs and lets his eyes slip closed. “Please?” he finds himself asking a bit reluctantly. He would do it himself, but the thought of getting up, along with the pain it will cause his head, is unappealing, to say the least. He hates feeling like this. Useless and weak. It makes him miss his dogs. They always distract and comfort him when he feels this miserable.

Hannibal smiles down at Will, watching him a moment before finally climbing out of bed. The cabin is quite warm now. Thanks in part to his keeping the fire going. He had added another split piece of wood before laying down early that morning and added yet another when he woke to relieve himself a few hours later. It’s been maybe two hours since then and the fire is smaller now, but still burning nicely.

There’s a collection of cast iron cookware hanging on the wall over the small wood-burning stove that sits in the corner. Beside that is an old sink with a well-pump for a faucet, and a set of cupboards that contain a few pots and dishes. More than enough to work with for what they need.

“The last time I prepared a meal from a can like this I was a young man just entering university, if memory serves,” Hannibal muses as he sets a pot on the stove. There’s no sign of a can opener, but he finds an old churchkey in the silverware drawer and grabs that to use.

“Somehow I find it hard to imagine you ever eating anything out of a can that wasn’t in some way extravagant or more expensive than my first car,” Will jokes as he opens his eyes and blinks up at the rafters above him. There’s various kind of gear stored up in them. Old looking wooden snowshoes, and what might be fishing equipment. He’s not entirely sure since he can’t get his eyes to focus well enough to get a good look through the shadows.

With a chuckle, Hannibal glances over to Will before grabbing two cans of chicken soup from the small counter by the stove. He had placed most of their food in there before stuffing the small fridge tucked below full of snow and placing their drinks inside to stay cold. “There are still many things you do not yet know about me, Will.”

“Of that, I am well aware,” Will says with a sigh. He lets his eyes slip closed again as he listens to Hannibal putter around across the room. “So what do you plan to do after this?”

The question makes Hannibal pause in the middle of opening a can. He has to ponder it a moment because while he knows what he would like to do, he also wants to know what it is that Will wants. And how that could possibly work into his own desires. “This being?”

“Recovering, here, with me,” Will clarifies tiredly. “I assume once you’re well enough to travel there are people you intend to pay a visit to before relocating to someplace more comfortable.”

“There are a few people I would like to visit, yes… Would you perhaps have an interest in joining me?” Hannibal asks carefully. He knows it would be a stretch to think Will might help him kill Alana Bloom. Killing her can wait for now. But the others? He isn’t going to leave the country without giving them a final farewell dinner.

“That would depend entirely on whom we would be visiting,” Will counters just as Hannibal had expected. He still has his eyes closed. Body language not changing as he lays with the blanket pushed down a bit so his upper chest and shoulders are visible along with his face. He appears relaxed despite the pain he’s in.

“Bedelia Du Maurier and Jack Crawford,” he supplies as he goes back to his work preparing their meal. He knows Bedelia being someone he intends to kill isn’t a surprise to Will. Jack really shouldn’t be either. But then again he’s left him alive in the past so that does give reason to consider he might leave the man alone.

“Jack?” Will asks, finally opening his eyes to look over at Hannibal. “I thought he wasn’t worth the effort?”

“He wasn’t. Even after the trouble he caused me in Italy, I never considered him much of a threat. And I had no intention of causing him harm unless he got in my way again. But it’s become clear that he will never stop pursuing either of us. And to be totally honest, I find many of his actions, as well as his overall treatment of you, to be quite rude.” He can remember every conversation they had regarding Will over the years. Every time Jack referred to Will as a dog or some tool for furthering his own agenda.

Hannibal takes some credit for guiding Will to who he is today. He’s proud of what the other man has become with his guidance. Of the evolution of his design. He probably wouldn’t bother with Jack if he was on his own now, but it seems Will might be here to stay and the man did spend the better part of three years silently gloating that Will had chosen to forsake the life they could have had together. And Hannibal isn’t going to let that stand.

“Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude,” Will quotes Hannibal with a chuckle. He remembers the night that Hannibal spoke those words to him. The look of amusement on his face as he said them despite being frustrated that Will hadn’t killed Mason Verger and instead flipped the script to set the sick bastard up to try and kill Hannibal instead.

“A sentiment I still hold to this day,” Hannibal agrees with a fond shake of his head.

“I think…” Will begins before carefully pushing himself up to sit. It hurts his head, makes the room spin, and his body sway a bit. But he holds himself steady and breathes through it before he opens his eyes and looks over to a worried Hannibal once he’s fully upright. “I think I would like to see that.”

“I have to ask. When Jack Crawford is dead and this is all over, will you try to go back to your family?” Hannibal keeps his eyes locked with Will’s. Reading his reaction to the question. He had briefly considered finding a more delicate way to ask. But he knows Will prefers him to be honest in his questions. So, he’s being honest.

Will’s face twitches like he doesn’t know if he wants to smile or frown. “They’re not really my family anymore, now are they,” he says in a tone that betrays his mixed emotions on the subject of his wife and step-son. Tears well up in his eyes and he has to break eye contact with Hannibal as he blinks them away. It’s too much right now.

“I‘m sorry, Will…” He knows what it means to Will. Having a family. Especially after the loss of his unborn child and then losing Abigail for a second time right before his eyes. It seems if he’s to be involved with Hannibal in any way, it means losing those he holds dear no matter the circumstances.

“I’m only going to ask you this once. Don’t mention them again,” Will says as calmly as he can with a glance to Hannibal before letting his gaze drift down to his hands. He has them folded in his lap. Eye’s roaming over the scrapes and bruises that start on his knuckles and move up his arms. His mind is spinning. Trying to accept the fact that who he is, who he really truly is, isn’t someone that could ever be with them again. It’s what’s best for them all. He’s suppressed his nature for years. He can’t go back to that after last night.

“Of course. I am sorry, Will. It wasn’t my intention to upset you.” He really hadn’t. He cares a great deal for Will. And seeing him hurting so deeply does affect him. Despite his best attempts not to let it. It makes him long to go back to a time when he could have chosen a different path. Saved Abigail and forgiven Will. Left for a life with them. The longing is fleeting. He knows there’s no going back and there is likely nothing he could do to make the loss of his children up to Will.

“I’m not… I’m not going to leave you, Hannibal. Not unless your feelings towards me have changed,” Will says after a few minutes of silence pass between them. It was hard to find the words. Get them out of his mind and past his tongue.

“My feelings for you are exactly the same as they were the last time I saw you like this,” he settles on the answer as he studies Will. Remembering the night Will woke up tucked carefully into his own bed after Mason Verger tried to have his face removed so he could claim it as his own. “I think the real question you should be asking is have your feelings towards me changed since then?”

Will forces himself to look up and face Hannibal then, fighting back the urge to look away and retreat into himself at the intensity of his gaze. Wade into the stream and catch a few fish rather than confront and admit how he feels. “They have,” he finally says, knowing full well that Hannibal can see what he means from the look in his eyes. He doesn’t need to say anything more. And the smile that spreads across Hannibal’s face has an oddly calming effect on Will. It lets him take a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding back.

“Then there are some things we need to discuss once you are feeling up to it.” The smile doesn’t leave his face, even as he turns back to the simmering pot on the stove.

Will watches Hannibal serve up their meal, wondering what will happen from here. His mind sifting through all his knowledge and past experiences with the other man. Trying to find any tells or signs that his feelings aren’t genuine. He finds none. And it leaves an oddly warm feeling in his chest knowing that Hannibal appears to feel the same way.

Read Chapter 5

[laynavile]

41 with hannigram!!

Prompt 41 - Daddy

I had to fight with myself so hard not to write this as a cute, soft daddy Hannibal piece, but I kept reminding myself it is a smut prompt list, lol.

Thank you so much for sending me a prompt, I had a lot of fun with this, despite it taking some turns I hadn't intended.

Also posted on ao3 - Toxic (Like The Poison On My Tongue)

Warnings - Dub-con, daddy kink

Enjoy 😌

Hannibal has never truly let his guard down--he is always prepared to kill to defend himself. Men and women alike have died chasing their release with Hannibal. One had tried to bite him without his consent, another had tried to asphyxiate him--"It'll heighten your pleasure." They said--another tried to hold him down and take him from behind, another slapped him across the face as she orgasmed, and so on and so on.

Hannibal's sex life is relatively vanilla, he is on top always, be it with a man or woman--there is too much vulnerability if he is beneath them. It works for him, he either gets to have an orgasm and then never see the person again or he gets to have an orgasm and then make a meal of them, it's a win for Hannibal either way.

But then Will Graham appears in Hannibal's life and everything changes. Will makes Hannibal break his own rules, he finds himself wanting to let Will in, forgiving Will's rude behaviors, and the thing that shocks him the most is the desire to let Will take him.

Hannibal is drawn to Will like a moth to a light. After a while Hannibal begins to notice changes in Will, he begins disassociating, losing time, and Hannibal smells a fever on him--it's the perfect opportunity for Hannibal. He can manipulate Will any way he wants, and Will is none the wiser. Hannibal can seduce Will and get what he so desperately wants.

Will arrives at his office confused--he doesn't know how he got there when he was in another state at a crime scene--now is Hannibal's chance, Will is disoriented enough that Hannibal can direct him out to the Bentley and into his home without Will asking why.

Upon entering his home he leads Will up the stairs to his bedroom, "Undress, Will."

Shaking fingers work buttons out of their holes, tug a zipper down, clothing is dropped into the floor and shoes are kicked off and soon Will stands naked as the day he was born in the middle of Hannibal's bedroom.

His cock twitches in his suit pants. "Lie down on the bed, Will."

Without hesitation or question Will obeys, he lies on the bed on top of the blankets, head on Hannibal's own pillow. He stares up at the ceiling, unblinking.

Hannibal almost feels bad for doing this, but it's something he's wanted since the day he met Will--something he's never let himself indulge in with anyone. Hannibal has a drawer full of toys for this, but the prospect of having a real, live cock inside of him causes him to ache with desire.

He undresses slowly, taking care of his expensive clothing, draping his suit jacket over the back of a chair, folding his vest, dress shirt and suit pants before placing them into the chair as well. His shoes are carefully taken off and left on the floor to the right of the chair, socks and underwear are taken into the en suite and dropped into the laundry basket.

Will is precisely where Hannibal left him, supine and staring. He glances at Hannibal upon his reentry of the bedroom, but says nothing--asks no questions.

Hannibal opens the top drawer of his dresser--there are no clothes in here--he retrieves a bottle of lube, a condom, a cock ring and anal plug. He closes the drawer and crosses the room, places the items on the bed before climbing onto the bed next to Will. He looks at Hannibal, he doesn't speak, but his expression is trusting albeit confused.

"Relax, Will, nothing here will hurt you."

Will seems to sink further into the bed, and his eyes slip closed.

Hannibal takes the bottle of lube, coats his fingers and begins stretching himself open--he knows how to do this quickly and efficiently--once stretched enough he lubes up the plug and slides it into himself. His cock is hard and drooling, flushed dark with need--he ignores it.

He listens for a moment, Will is not asleep much to Hannibal's dismay--a sleeping Will would've made this easier for him. He touches Will's arm first, a light brush of his fingers to gauge his reaction to physical stimuli. When Will doesn't react adversely, Hannibal moves his fingers to touch Will's chest, fingertips ghosting across his nipples, they harden beneath his touch and Will inhales sharply, but he does not open his eyes or attempt to stop Hannibal.

Fingers trail down, across Will's stomach, palm resting flat for a moment to feel the up and down motion of his stomach as he breathes evenly. His hand slides lower, touching the surprisingly soft, coarse hair that covers Will's pelvis, his fingers slide through the hair--Hannibal watches intently as Will's penis twitches subtly but does not harden.

He wraps his fingers around the flaccid shaft, the skin is soft and so warm. He picks up the silicone ring and slides it on--he's not going to risk Will coming too quickly, Hannibal will take his own pleasure before letting Will reach his release. Hannibal leans in, and presses his lips to Will's jaw, he begins to fill within Hannibal's grip. Hannibal kisses along his jaw, and down his neck, all the while gently stroking Will's hardening length.

Hannibal wants to bite Will's neck, wants to leave marks on Will's flesh, but knows that marking someone in such a way without their permission is wrong--he's killed people for doing the same to him. Many would say what he's doing to Will is wrong, but he's seen the desire in Will's gaze, he knows Will wants this.

Will becomes fully erect between Hannibal's fingers. Hannibal opens the condom package and rolls it onto Will's hard shaft--he's used this very same ring with a condom before, he knows how to do it properly, to cause no discomfort or risk of the condom breaking. Will's eyes do not open, but he moans softly.

The plug slides out easily, his leg goes over Will so that Hannibal is straddling him, he guides Will's cock to his hole and sinks down--as expected it feels so much better than any toy he's used. He can feel the warmth of Will's skin through the condom, each twitch and pulse of his cock as it's nestled deep inside of Hannibal--it's blissful.

He lifts up a small amount before pressing back down, it feels better than Hannibal could've ever imagined. Will breathes harshly beneath him, but does not move, does not speak, does not open his eyes--almost as if he's paralyzed or perhaps he simply doesn't want to upset Hannibal and have this end.

The pace Hannibal sets is quick and rough, up and down fast and hard, he angles his hips on each downward motion just right, Will presses against his prostate sending tingles of pleasure up his spine.

They're both sweating, skin flushed and breathing heavily, Will moans and grunts, his eyes begin to open a few times but never all the way. Hannibal wraps his fist around his own cock, timing his strokes to be the opposite of how he rides Will's cock.

Suddenly Will's eyes snap open, hands reach up to grip Hannibal's hips, lips parted in a silent scream. Hannibal comes across Will's chest, a few pearlescent drops even make it into the scuff on Will's chin.

Will pushes Hannibal back--he let's it happen, he easily could've overpowered Will but he wants to see what Will will do, wants to see if he's been right in trusting and wanting Will so entirely--Will fucks into Hannibal with a ferocity that Hannibal hadn't expected, hips snapping in and out quickly, chasing an orgasm that Hannibal has purposely delayed.

His thrusts become more and more erratic, mumbling and moaning as he goes--none of it is particularly coherent, though Hannibal makes out, "Fuck." And "Shit." And "So tight." The rest is a mystery to him, until Will comes.

"Fuck, daddy, ah."

Daddy? Hannibal had never been called daddy before, but the sound of it coming from Will's mouth as he floods the condom inside Hannibal, nothing has ever sounded better. If he could, he would be grtting hard again, and would gladly ride Will's cock again and again to hear it.

Once Will has calmed, Hannibal climbs off of him, pulling the condom off, he ties it and drops it into the trash before carefully taking the ring off of Will--he's so sensitive now, he hisses at the feeling of the ring being removed.

Hannibal doesn't say anything as he takes the ring and the plug to rinse in the sink, he'll clean them properly later.

When he returns Will hasn't run off, he's now sitting, but he's still there, in Hannibal's bed.

"I'm sorry." He doesn't sound confused as he did earlier.

Sorry? "What are you apologizing for, Will?" If anyone should apologize, it's Hannibal--he won't though, he won't apologize for taking what he and Will both wanted.

"I shouldn't have called you that."

"There is no reason for you to apologize, Will, it's quite alright."

"I haven't, I mean not since, you're just perfect daddy material, it slipped out."

"Again, Will, I assure you it's alright. We can discuss it later."

Will nods seemingly placated, "Hannibal, how did I get here? How did we end up in bed?"

"You came to me distraught over a crime scene, we talked about what was upsetting you, then I offered to bring you to my home and feed you a good meal before sending you on your way to Wolf Trap, he readily agreed, stating how much you like my cooking. Unfortunately we did not get to eat, you confessed to me your attraction, and desires, and I reciprocated them, and here we are." He wonders if some day Will will remember the truth, will remember Hannibal touching him without his explicit consent, but that is an obstacle for another day.

If you'd like to send me a smut prompt as well here is the list, or any other prompt not from the list, I'd be willing to give it a try. As always it doesn't have to be Hannigram, I'll write Starker(cest) and Spideypool as well.

[isrustandstardust]

1. What’s been the best day of your life so far and why?

Hard to decide, I had so many great days.

2. Describe your first kiss, who was it with, what was it like, where was it etc?

It was with my best friend at the time, in my parents garden. It was early morning after a night spent talking, her lips were really soft.

3. What’s your biggest regret? I know we all say we don’t regret things but obviously it’s how we learn, from our mistakes. So what’s something from your past you wished you could have changed?

I could have handled a break up better. I ended up hurting someone I cared for.

4. When was the last time you laughed so hard that tears fell from your face and what was it at?

With my husband, yesterday night. We were actually making fun of someone we know.

5. What is the craziest thing that you have ever done?

Moving in with a guy I barely knew in a city 400km away from all my family and friends.

6. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?

Nothing comes to mind rn.

7. Do you have any scars and if so, how did you get them?

I have my arms covered in scars. All of them are from self harming.

8. Where would you like to be in 10 years?

In another house, maybe abroad.

9. What are your views on drugs and alcohol?

I’m for the free of choice. I’ve tried drugs only a few times and not drinking atm.

10. What are your views on religion?

Brainwashing shit.

11. Have you ever thought about ending your own life? If so, why?

Yes, more than once. I tried, twice, when I was 21 and going through a lot. The second time I almost succeeded and woke up in the hospital after being unconscious and intubated for a week.

12. Write 5 facts people might not know about you.

- I am bipolar, borderline and have a schizoafective disorder.

- I dream about Satan and the end of the world on daily basis.

- When I was little I used look for little animals to bury and exhume after a while to see how decomposition works.

- I’ve been into witchcraft and rituals since I was 16.

- I write backwards like Leonardo Da Vinci.

13. What’s your zodiac sign and do you think it fits your personality?

I’m a Scorpio and it fits perfectly.

14. Pinpoint a moment you felt the most satisfied with your life.

When my storyboard teacher remembered me from my online test because it was a perfect score.

15. Discuss your first love.

We were young and trying too hard.

16. Put your ipod on shuffle and write 5 songs that pop up. Explain why each song is on there.

- Don’t mess with me - Brody Dalle. It’s from the soundtrack of a game I love.

- Distance - 4bidden. It relaxes me.

- As the rain comes down - 0K(ill)’s. Because I’m working on their new videoclip.

- 8-MQ 16.10.2001 - 0K(ill)’s. Because it’s inspired by an Italian female serial killer. The title is composed by her initials and date of death.

- Rock and Roll - Gary Glitter. It makes me want to misbehave.

17. Name somewhere you’d like to move or visit.

Iceland.

18. What’s your earliest memory?

My dad taking me to Collodi.

19. What are your views on mainstream music?

It’s heartless and all about making money.

20. What are your highs and lows of this past year?

High: starting officially my character designer career. Low: my mother in law and old dog passing away in less than a month.

21. What are your strongest beliefs?

I believe in being direct and honest. Do no harm but take no shit.

22. Who are you closest to in your family?

My dad maybe.

23. How important do you think education is?

It’s fundamental.

24. What’s one of your favorite shows?

My 600lbs life XD

25. How have you changed in the past 2 years?

I’m more secure of myself and my capabilities.

26. Name 5 people who are famous who you find attractive.

- Tom Hiddleston.

- Mads Mikkelsen.

- Hugh Dancy.

- Michael Fassbender.

- Matthew Good.

27. Name your favorite movie and what it’s about.

3 Iron, in the mood for love. Because they’re sad but huntingly beautiful.

Stoker because psycho killers turn me on.

The fountain because is eternal and heartbreaking.

28. Who is someone who fascinates you and why?

I am fascinated by fictional characters. Like Hannibal Lecter. Yeah, again psycho killers.

29. What kind of person attracts you?

Intelligent people.

30. What’s a problem that you have recently had or are currently having?

My body is giving up on me xD

31. Name something that you miss.

The lake.

32. Share 5 goals you want completed in the next 30 days.

- Doing at least 15 designs.

- Double up my workout time.

- Completing my very first song.

- Take that online course I’ve been postponing for lack of time.

- Get a hold of a camera and go shooting.

33. What’s been the highlight of your month and the lowest point?

Highlight: doing a shit ton of sales on my shop. Lowest point: I don’t recall one, it’s been a pretty good month so far.

34. What’s something that you’ve done in the past that you would never do again?

Being the side chick.

35. What is you’re biggest insecurity & why?

Not being good enough. It can be traced back to my mom being a terrible mother.

36. What were the last 3 songs you listened to and what did they mean to you?

- Natacha Atlas - GAFSA. Because it’s in the soundtrack of 3Iron.

- Morcheeba - Over and over again. I find I’d perfectly fitting.

- Portishead - Wandering star. Because it remembers me of someone from my past.

37. Do you have a toy that’s really special to you and if so what is it, how did you get it etc?

I had a plush of a rhino called Mr. Turkelton [Scrubs reference] that was so dear to me. It’s with my ex, we bought it together and he kept it. Still miss him tho.

38. Have you lost anyone close to you to death?

My mother in law. She was more of a mom to me than my own mother.

39. What is your purpose in life?

Being happy and create beautiful things.

40. When was the last time you cried and what was it over?

I do not remember, but I guess it was during my mil’s funeral.

41. If you got to spend an entire day with your favourite celebrity what would you guys do?

I would love to spend a day with the Mass Effect’s cast playing the game!

42. If you could only listen to one artist for the rest of your life, who would you choose and why?

Tool. Because I’m a masochist.

43. What are 3 traits that you like about yourself and what are three that you dislike about yourself? Personality wise.

Likes:

- Being open minded.

- Being stubborn.

- Being so will powered.

Dislikes:

- Being insecure.

- Being so unable to handle rage that I keep extremely calm until the moment I explode and get cruel and violent.

- Being unable to let go of things that enrage me.

44. Can you cook? If so what are your favorite dishes to make?

I’m pretty good at it. I love to make fresh pasta.

45. What was the last decision you regretted making?

Drinking that glass of milk, now my stomach hurts.

46. Who’s opinion of yourself do you value the most?

Mine. And then my husband’s. I don’t care of no one else’s opinion.

47. What’s the nastiest thing you’ve ever said to another human being and what drove you to say it?

I demolished a guy who was in love with me telling him exactly what I knew it would break him. I did it because he tried to act like I was his property and then got aggressive when I didn’t act accordingly.

48. What’s the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to YOU? Or something that’s hurt you above anything else and why?

Nasty things don’t get to me, I don’t listen to what people say, especially when it comes from someone I don’t care for or I despise. The things that hurt me the most was saying goodbye to someone I was not ready to let go.

49. You can ask your favourite celebrity 3 questions and she’s taken a magical truth pill so she will 100% answer honestly, what do you ask?

Maybe some technical stuff, Idk. I have no ‘favorite celebrity ‘ so...

50. What mark would you want to leave on this world after you are gone?

I don’t care about leaving a mark in a dying world tbh.

51. What makes you most angry?

Liars, incoherent people, delusional people, copycats.

52. Who do you think is a really underrated artist and what do you love about them?

There are a lot of really underrated artists out there trying their very best and being bashed by online algorithms. Support the artists you like!

53. What are the main qualities you look for when thinking about a significant other?

Intelligence, honesty and having moral values.

54. What’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you?

The first that comes to mind is waiting at home for me to return with a hot bath ready and a bed full of rose petals. It’s a cliche,Iknow. But I was young and in love.

55. What is one of your favorite memories?

I have so many, but thinking about the past makes me feel bittersweet.

56. What do you do when you really want to impress someone?

I just act normal, if they’re impressed, good. If not, it’s ok.

57. What are your 3 favourite animals and why?

- Snakes: They’re so fascinating.

- Crows: they’re extremely intelligent.

- Sharks: natural born predators.

58. What’s the nicest present you’ve ever received?

A trip to Paris and a trip to Disneyland.

59. People always go around saying ‘oh I’m their biggest fan’, but what does being a truly big fan of someone mean to you?

Idk, I just like people. I don’t obsess over them.

I obsess over things I like, but not over some individual I don’t know.

60. Have you ever wanted to change anything about your life? If so, what?

I want more money XD

61. What is something you feel like you are really good at?

Drawing. Hopefully making music, but it’s way to early to say.

62. What is something you feel like you can get better at?

Drawing, there’s always room for improving.

63. What is something you feel like you are really bad at?

Hiding when I despise someone. And bowling.

64. If you were given $3,000,000 to put towards 3 charities/foundations ($1 mil each obvs), what would you choose and why?

Wildlife protection, animal shelters, planet’s preservation.

65. What’s one thing someone has done for you that was really small but made a huge impact?

My roommates came back from Xmas holidays one day earlier to have dinner with me because I was alone. And another brought me Xmas dinner a few days before.

66. What do you do when you can’t sleep?

I work :/

67. What’s something that’s on your bucket list?

Make a nice home studio.

68. If you could change 3 things within your government, what would they be and why?

I would actually change the opponent party. They’re dreadful.

69. What’s your favourite holiday and why?

Xmas, because it feels like happiness.

70. What’s the kindest thing a stranger has ever done for you? Even if it’s TINY like holding a door open for you, something that you rememer even though they were a complete stranger.

A stranger helped me when my nose was bleeding like crazy and I was alone in a mall. He also bought me an orange juice.

71. Who’s your favorite cartoon character?

Motoko Kusanagi.

72. What’s the first song that comes to your mind while reading this and why?

Reptile - NIN. Don’t know why.

73. Put the 7 deadly sins in order of the one you commit the most to the least.

Wrath - Lust - Pride - Sloth - Greed - Gluttony - Envy.

74. What would you like to be the first dance song at your wedding?

I’m already married and we danced over Christian Woman by Type 0 Negative XD

75. Have you ever been told you look like a famous person, if so, who?

Someone told me I look like Butterfly from Death Proof and like Amy Lee from Evancescence.

I really don’t see it.

76. What’s one thing you can not live without?

Art. And music.

77. What is the most selfless thing you have ever done for someone?

Going away.

78. Do you hate someone.

No, I dislike a lot of people, I think the world would be better off if some of them would die, it I do not hate them.

79. What are 3 things that have happened in your life that you’ve never forgotten? Big or small, just things you know you won’t ever forget and still seem crystal clear now.

- Almost dying.

- Getting married.

- Signing for my very first house.

80. What comes first to you out of friendships and relationships, and why?

They’re equally important.

81. What’s your favourite children’s tv show/movie?

Muppets: a Christmas Carol.

82. What song makes you cry the most?

Together we will live forever - Clint Mansell.

83. What’s the funniest film you’ve ever seen?

Operation Petticoat.

84. What’s something crazy that you’ve always wanted to do?

Trying human flesh.

85. Has anything ever happened to you that you just can’t forgive?

A lot. Just, a lot.

86. What’s your biggest fear?

Being abandoned.

87. What is your favorite food?

Red meat, pistachio ice cream.

88. Least favorite food? Why?

Celery.

89. Have you ever felt ashamed about something? If so what was it & why?

Not that I recall of.

90. Do you keep a journal? If so what mostly goes in it? Random thoughts, feelings, stories?

I always keep a journal, I write in it pretty much everything, dreams, feelings, ideas, thoughts.

91. When was the last time you said something nice to someone & what made you do it?

This morning to my husband, because he deserves it.

92. How do you feel when someone says something mean/disrespectful towards your fave celeb?

Couldn’t care less? Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, even if it’s a shitty one.

93. What’s the saddest story/one that’s touched you the most that you’ve ever heard on the news?

Milena Quaglini’s.

94. If you were told you were going to have 3 daughters, what would you want to name them?

Violante, Lavinia and Artemisia.

95. Do you have a middle name and if so, what is it?

I have two. Valeria and Maria.

96. How did your name get chosen? What’s the story behind it?

My dad found it in a sci-fi book back when he was a teenager. It was the name of the first baby girl born on the moon.

97. What’s the craziest thing you’ve done for each of your faves e.g. waiting in line for hours, getting up early to see them on tv etc?

I watched a streaming reunion in the middle of the night on N7 day.

98. Are you a virgin?

No.

99. What are the stories behind your tattoos/piercings and if you don’t have any, would you like any?

I have wings because I’ve always been obsessed with winged figures and angels.

I have a lot of movies/books quotes because they all means something to me.

I have cherry petals because of Hagakure.

The snowflake is the reminder of a very important person.

The moth is for my self destructive tendencies.

The witch is a homage to me.

The strawberry is a silly Adventure Time reference.

The snake is a biblical reference to both Lilith and Satan.

The Santa Muerte and the black goat are both linked to my beliefs.

100. Do you want to say something to the world?

Stop being stupid, stop making stupid people famous, open a book.

[grisdidthis]

Townie of the Day: Mad Science edition!

Well, I gave up on trying to make all my townies from scratch -- there are just too many slots to fill and my creativity is currently at an all time low, so. I’ve been going around nabbing the ones other people kindly put up for adoption and challenging myself to make them fit into the world of PF42, which is it’s own brand of fun. The rules I’ve set for myself in doing this are, loosely:

Won’t mess about with the core facial structure; adding blushes and shading and wrinkles and whatnot is allowed, though.

Won’t change skin or eye color unless I’m trading for a similar one (I have about one hundred different skins and eyes, and like the way the highlights, shadows and tiny details are done better on some that others, even if the base tones are the same) OR the sim has an unnatural skin or eye color but I still wanted them because they had amazing cheekbones. 

Hair and clothes can be changed with no caveats.

If the sim comes with additional information - a name, stats, aspiration, a little bio, hell, even named relatives - I’ll stay as faithful to all that as the setting allows, up to and including making them that brother or sister or child.

So. With all that laid down, here is the current Mad Scientist (official job title, not a descriptor of anyone’s mental health status or indicator that they’re very very pissed) lineup.  

1. Prof. Dana McMillan

Dana was made by uranium-z. When I saw her, I mentally assigned her a role as Igmar and Imka’s cool auntie on their dad’s side and downloaded her for that purpose. Then I read her bio, went “Okay, you are a researcher who dimention-hopped via cheese sandwich, cool, we can work with that instead!” and decided that she would be the kind of person Winifred would definitely give a lab to if she ever showed up on the platform. And also that the kids definitely don’t need ANOTHER aunt who wears a white coat. (Dana doesn’t much care for it either, but it’s a status symbol and also mandatory, so what can you do.) 

2. Dr. Zeena Salman, MD

Zeena I’m pretty sure I got the facial structure for from SOMEWHERE, but it was right at the start when I was downloading all the things, and her original file had already been deleted by the time I went looking for it, so I can’t remember who made her and if she had another name before. I also tinkered with her enough in the meantime that I probably wouldn’t recognize her in her basic form if I stumbled upon it in the wild. EITHER WAY, Zeena here is a case of Some Townies Are More Important Than Others, in that she’s older than half of my playables and was originally going to be Abdul and Nadeem’s SISTER rather than a love interest for both of them. I considered leaving her as a playable after moving her out of their household, but then I’d have to build ANOTHER lab, which is a bit of a waste since she’s going to move back in with the Madhavis at some point in the future anyway. 

3. Dr. Milo Hemlock (not an actual medical doctor)

Doctor Hemlock is the result of playing around with the random feature on CAS until someone who was okay-ish but in need of some tweaking came up. I needed an evil shrink and an evil dude who cooks meth (and every other drug used to make characters pass out, declare their passionate love for each other when nothing else will do, etc etc etc) and he was originally going to be the shrink (the maroon eyes are a book!Hannibal Lecter homage) and Doctor Lobe, below and created through the same process at the same time, the drug engineer. Then I let them free will away for the two seconds it takes to townie-fy, looked at the facial expressions this dude was pulling, went “No, you are definitely the one who cooks meth!”, traded their roles and changed both their names.

4. Dr. Lyman Lobe (licence suspended)

He’s an evil shrink who doesn’t eat people but does gaslight everyone a whole bunch, which tbh makes him evil enough already.

4. Prof. James Ancillary

This guy has me so torn re: the rules for appropriating sims not originally mine who have stories. His base was made by clonesimsclones, and his bio is both super detailed and has him as a robot, which. We aren’t this far ahead with artificial intelligence in the setting of PF42. Yet. And the base had a perfect face for a character I’d planned for and not yet created. So I’m going to work around all this (yes, one post and two sims in, I’m very good at sticking to rules, as you can see) by making this dude a human AI engineer and committing to at some point in the story having him create a Doctor Boom that is modeled after him and has a story more in line with the recipe given. (And who will lead a far more pleasant life, since he gets to inherit his creator’s workshop after Professor Ancillary’s tragic death, skip all those nasty updates and go straight to a life of idyllic robot fixing.)