#He also has Hannibal absolutely wrapped around his finger

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Wrapped Around Your Finger

Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Summary: Hannibal decides to switch things up a bit, relinquishing his power to you.

WC: 1.8k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ only, minors dni), light bondage, femdom-ish? (not really tho lmao), oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don't do it at home), that's all I can think about so lmk if I missed anything!

------

Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No.2 drifted out of the living room speakers. Outside, there was a thunderstorm, rain falling heavily and ceaselessly, the wind howling. There would be glimpses of lightning between the drapes, and you counted the seconds before the low growl of thunder would follow. 

There was a fire in the hearth – yes, a hearth! You were dating a very fancy guy , after all – crackling softly. The room smelled pleasantly of firewood and old books and him. You had a glass of white wine in one hand, your body loose and languid, warm all over. 

It was simply the perfect night to stay in.

You were slightly bent over, looking at a section of his book collection. Cookbooks were the vast majority, which wasn't surprising, but your interest was also piqued by tomes on art history, natural sciences, and even anatomy. 

You picked one up at random and leafed through it absently. Dr. Lecter -- as you sometimes still liked to refer to him -- was such an exciting man, knowledgeable on things that you had never even imagined. He had undoubtedly expanded your palate, but you had to admit he'd expanded your mind quite a lot too.

You wore no pants, only the shirt Hannibal had been wearing earlier, which just barely reached your knees. He was down to his briefs, lounging on a chaise and absolutely devouring you with his gaze.

"Are you going to read to me?" Hannibal asked, directing your attention back to him. 

Though his tone was teasing, he secretly wished that you would. He did love your mellifluous voice, especially when reciting sonnets. Or moaning his name to the wind, like a ravenous wolf called to the full moon.

You blushed, a bit timid that you'd been caught so utterly distracted. "Sorry, just poking around..."

He smiled, feeling a little smug. "Find anything interesting?"

“Hard not to.” You said, approaching and swinging one leg over him, straddling his hips. 

His free hand immediately came to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing fire on your skin. 

Your voice hitched as you added, “Y-you know, you can tell a lot about a man by what he has in his home.”

“Oh? And what have you discovered about me?”

You chuckled, setting down your glass. “You like to ask a lot of questions.” You leaned down to plant a kiss on his lips, adding, “And you like being in control.”

“I suppose I do,” he returned the kiss with fervor, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. You shuddered against him, and he pressed closer to you. 

“Oh, but that reminds me…” he continued, suddenly pulling away. “I’ll be right back.”

You plopped down on the chaise as he got up and headed down the hall to his bedroom. You watched his muscular back as he retreated, biting your lip. You felt a little lightheaded from the sudden influx of arousal, so you lay back, rubbing your thighs together. He always knew how to get you going, but he did have a bit of a tendency to be a tease. He wasn’t like Will, who loved getting straight to the point.

Not that you were complaining about either of them.

When Hannibal came back into the room, he handed you a black box. There was a piece of paper with your name on it on top, and you traced your fingers over his refined penmanship. Your eyes then widened, and you couldn’t help but panic a little bit at the prospect of forgetting something important. 

“A gift?” You squeaked.

“Of sorts,” he smirked, utterly devious.

“What for? Oh, Hannibal, you shouldn’t have.”

“Just open it, darling.”

So you did, sliding the top off to reveal the last thing you had expected – lengths of crimson-colored rope. Not just any rope either, but silk rope, the expensive-looking kind. You blinked, momentarily shocked, but when you looked up at him, his smirk had only grown.

“I thought we could do something fun– turn the tables a bit.” He purred, kneeling before you. “You have been such an angel with me, and perhaps it is time I surrendered to you.”

“And you want me to…” you trailed off, eyes flicking down to the ropes in your lap.

His eyes were a bewitching flame that kept you captivated. “Yes, sweetness. And perhaps next time, they can go on you. It’s only fair, you know?”

“Are you sure?” 

“One hundred percent.”

You smiled, all sharp teeth ready to sink into his divine flesh. You captured his lips in a fierce kiss, pressing yourself flush against him. You felt his teeth graze your lower lip, making heat pool in your belly.

When you pulled away, you tied his arms behind his back, one resting over the other. You figured you’d keep it simple tonight, even if you were already imagining all of the patterns you wanted to tie all over his body. You could make him into an utter masterpiece – not that he wasn’t already one.

You kissed his neck and up to the back of his ear, feeling his chest heaving against yours. 

“You okay?” You whispered against his skin, and he nodded.

Your eyes roamed over him, your hands soon following, sliding over the expanse of his chest. Up to his shoulders, down his arms. Then they stopped at the edge of his briefs, fingers teasing the elastic.

“This is all mine, isn’t it?” You said, biting your lip.

“Yes, my darling, all of me,” he breathed, and his breath hitched as your hand wandered lower, cupping his length over his briefs. “And what parts of you will you give to me?”

“The tastiest bits, of course,” you smiled, and his eyes mirrored the hunger you felt. “Stay on your knees for me, will you?”

Stepping back, you ever-so-slowly began to unbutton the shirt you wore. He was unable to tear his gaze away from you and all the skin you were revealing. You still had Will’s teeth marks on your inner thighs, now a faded pink and yellow. His eyes lingered on this detail, and he swallowed hard. 

You let the shirt fall off your body, pooling on the hardwood floor. Next, your thumbs hooked on the sides of your underwear, a little lacy black number you knew he loved. Your hips swayed as you pulled it down ever so slightly, looking coy as you teased him.

He strained against the ropes, wanting to touch you, to retaliate for this delicious torture you were making him go through. But he needed to be good, he reminded himself. He was rather enjoying how things were unfolding, after all. 

You felt a sudden thrill at watching him squirm, loving that you had such an effect on him. Your underwear also fell to the ground, and you approached him slowly, a mischievous glint in your eye. 

“So, would you like a taste?” You asked huskily.

In response, he eagerly leaned forward, which made you chuckle a little. You bent down until your lips were only a hair’s breadth apart, and you whispered, “Can you say please?”

“Please,” he breathed, and you pulled back a little as he tried to kiss you. “Please, I want to taste all of you.”

Satisfied, you planted a quick, chaste kiss on his lips before standing back up. You ran a hand through his hair, pulling his head back a little. Then, leaning on one of his shoulders, you draped your leg over his other shoulder, pulling him closer.

In the next moment, his face was buried in your cunt. He was absolutely ravenous, licking you with an almost trance-like gusto. He shifted against his bindings once more, wanting to add his hands into the mix, but to no avail. His frustration only fueled him on, and you dug your hands into his hair once more.

Arching your back, you completely lost yourself to the sensation, baring the column of your throat to the skies as your eyes fluttered closed.

“That’s it, right there,” you encouraged, words melting away into a moan.

You let out a shuddering breath as his tongue began to trace slow circles around your most sensitive spot. Then his teeth were then added into the equation, adding just enough pressure to make lightning bolts of pleasure shoot through you. Almost involuntarily, you began to rock your hips, seeking more, more, more.

Greedy thing, he thought to himself, both amused and absolutely bewitched. He hummed deeply in approval, and that coil in your stomach wound tightly, just on the brink of snapping.

“H-Hannibal,” you breathed, muscles tensing. “I-I’m gonna…”

With a keening wail, you stumbled over the edge, heat rippling throughout your body. Your legs turned to Jelly as you gripped his hair tighter, grinding your cunt against his face with wild abandon. He moaned deeply, utterly lost in the all-encompassing feeling of you. You panted, your movements slowing as you rode out the aftershocks, coming down from your high. 

You straightened, pulling your leg back and letting go of his hair. He smiled up at you beatifically, the lower half of his face glistening. He loved the sight of you trembling like that, face and chest flushed, eyes glassy with stars. How you would feign demureness after orgasm, as if ashamed to have displayed such carnality; Such wantonness. 

We are made of flesh and fault, he recalled you saying once. 

A moment later, when you were feeling much more merciful, you untied him and lightly massaged his arms. But he immediately descended upon you, kissing all over your body – adoring every inch of you. Your thighs gripped his hips, urging him closer, and he happily complied. When he sank into you, it felt like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together, where they belonged.

You clung to him, digging your nails into his biceps. Your eyes once more fluttered close, but he immediately said, “No. Look at me.”

You complied, gazing into those intense amber eyes of his. “Good girl,” he praised with a small smile, giving you a quick kiss. 

The words were like a flame licking over your skin. He could feel you clench around him, which elicited a low moan. He went harder, faster, his pace losing control. You could tell he was close, and you stretched up to kiss him, biting his bottom lip. His muscles tensed and he cursed under his breath, your name soon following. He reached his own climax, holding you close to him.

Then the two of you lie sprawled on the floor, breathing hard, limbs tangled. Your head lay on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. You kissed him on the ribs, right atop it, and sighed contentedly.

“So, about the next time we do this…” you trailed off, a playful edge to your tone.

He chuckled, stroking your hair. “Oh, you have no idea what I have in store for you.”

--------

#hannibal x fem!reader #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal smut #minors dni

[valeskafics]

Scream for Me (90s!Aegon/Aemond x Reader, 90s!Jace x Reader) - Scream AU, Chapter Six

A/N: there is an explicit murder scene in this that is broken up by gifs of ghost face please feel free to scroll past if you feel uncomfortable <3

Summary: You stand up for your friend, another murder happens, and you learn a bit more about the killer.

TW: profanity, innuendo, mention of character death, mentions of gore/murder, stalking, perving, sexual situations, fingering, MURDER GORE ETC

Word Count: 2,202 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Tag List (comment if you wish to be added/removed) bold means I could not tag you: @babyblue-chaos @wonder-harley @jessica295 @flavorofsalt @naomishief @zephyrinethedruid @girl-with-an-orange-cat @himbopatrol @desiree610 @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mawofmeraxes @momochiiiiiiii @the-jess-life @onadailybasis @whorefordrew @midnightrqin @its-halleys-comet @caramelcandescence @justanotherkpopstanlol @mmmimilan @have-a-good-day-x1000 @aloneatpeace @polireader @b1gb3anz @geeksnfreaks @hwaillight @avaleineandafryingpan @larix999 @jamespotterismydaddy @dreaming-for-an-escape @ietss @poppyflower-22 @clara02 @ultraviollett @bitchyglitterfox @polireader @geeksnfreaks @hwaillight @padfooteyes @mattsmithwife @hedahobbit98

After everything those two girls said in the locker room, you choose not to mention your encounter with the killer to anyone. You are not an attention seeker like they’re implying and you refuse to be seen as one. As stupid as it may seem, the killer didn’t hurt you and so, you simply go out and start warming up. If anyone notices something is wrong with you, they don’t mention it.

You do see Aemond looking over at you every so often, with a curious expression on his face. You don’t quite understand it.

He’s just wondering what the fuck happened between you and Aegon. As far as he knows, his brother was supposed to scare you in the locker room, but you’re out here acting like nothing happened.

When you all have a bit of spare time near the end of class, you sit with on the grass with Aemond, Jace, and Baela. And of course, Robin fucking Tully decides to walk over.

“So, baby, I heard you were-”

Aemond stands up, moving between you and Robin before he can take a step closer, “She doesn’t fucking want to speak to you, asshole.”

“Look, I just wanted to ask her how her little run-in with the killer went-”

“Have some fucking tact, you fuckrag,” Aemond growls.

You stand up and get between them, facing Aemond, “Aem, it’s okay. He’s not worth it. Relax. I can handle him.”

Aemond’s nostrils are flaring and he’s baring his teeth in anger. For the first time, your friend looks kind of terrifying.

But also weirdly attractive?

Seven fucking hells. It’s official, the killer has completely fucked up your mind. You’ve lost it. You’re actually turning into Clarice Starling, but the version from the book who runs away with Hannibal to Italy and fucks him. That’s the path you’re going down.

Your eyes trace over the remnants of Aemond’s black eye and his now much less swollen but still swollen nose.

You quickly turn away from him and look at Robin, keeping your voice as calm and even as you can, “I think you owe Aemond an apology.”

Robin scoffs, “Baby, I’m not-”

“Stop fucking call me that, Robin, now apologize!”

“And what do I have to apologize for? Huh?” Robin demands, looking past you and glaring at Aemond.

You glare at him, “Do you not see the black eye you gave him, you absolute fucking piece of shit?”

Aemond has to stop himself from cackling at the irony of your words. Baela and Jace give him a weird look as he chokes on a laugh. He waves off their concern, faking a coughing fit. Jace tosses him a water bottle.

“It was a football, Y/N,” Robin rolls his eyes, “It couldn’t have given him a black eye.”

He moves to wrap his arm around you, but you grip his wrist before he can. He seems surprised at how strong you are, eyes widening.

Turns out those judo lessons came in handy.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, asshole,” when Robin tries to move toward you with his other arm, your fight or flight instinct kicks in and you manage to pull his arm behind his back, surprising your friends as you whisper in his ear, “I fought off the guy who killed my ex, the fucking captain of your stupid little team. I can easily fight you.”

You let go and Robin grabs his arm. Jenna and Arianna glare at you and come running to help Robin. Robin scowls at you.

“You know,” he says, still seething, “One of these days, you’re gonna realize that you’re not fucking better than everyone, Y/N. That’s probably why Will dumped you for Alys. Because you’re such a frigid fucking bitch.”

Baela struggles to hold Jace and Aemond back while you just reply to Robin calmly, “I don’t think I’m better than everyone. I just think I’m better than you.”

You turn back to your friends. Aemond is glaring at Robin as he walks away, while Baela is trying to stop him from doing anything stupid.

Jace’s jaw is practically on the floor, “When did you learn tae kwon do?”

“It’s judo,” you correct him, “I started after the breakup. Helped me get my aggression out. This is, like, one of the first few moves they teach you.”

And Aemond thinks everything makes sense now. How you’ve been able to fight back so hard.

He has to admit, it’s kind of hot. But, he’s going to need to be more careful in the future, and so is Aegon. However, right now? You’re not going to be the main target.

It’s Robin’s turn. He’s disrespected you for the last fucking time.

After gym, you all still have two more classes to go before school lets out. Even though it’s free period for Aemond and Aegon, they’re not allowed to leave campus. Some stupid school policy. Aegon shows back up in time for free period, much to your surprise.

And he’s wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. Kind of weird, but whatever.

Aegon’s just trying to hide the big ass bump he’s now sporting on his head.

While you all lean against your lockers during passing period, you chat a little bit and everyone fills Aegon in on what happened in gym class. Aegon’s eyes darken when he hears what Robin said to you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna fucking-”

“Don’t say the k word,” Jace reminds him, “They’ll start looking right at ya.”

“I don’t give a shit, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill the little bitch,” Aegon snaps, a little too loudly, earning the attention of half the people in the hallway, “What? Freedom of speech, you twats, I have rights!”

All of a sudden, two guys in Ghostface costumes come running down the halls, holding what you assume to be rubber knives. They’re screaming. Jace snorts out a laugh while you just grab Aemond’s arm, your nails digging into his skin.

He looks at you and frowns, “Hey, you okay?”

You nod, letting go immediately, “I’m fine.”

Aegon laughs hysterically while Baela slaps him on the backside of his head, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Dude, look at this place,” he grins, “It’s like Christmas!”

The bell rings and you all start separating. Aemond will be… Taking care of Robin.

Aegon? He’s getting another shot at taking care of you.

“Now remember,” Aemond mutters, “Your best choice is to catch her by surprise. Use the tape. It helps.”

“If she head butts me again, I might actually kill her,” Aegon snickers.

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” he agrees, sighing, “Good luck.”

“You too.”

They nod at each other and go off in their separate directions.

Aemond heads to the football field, where Robin always goes to blow off seventh period and smoke. How he still has healthy enough lungs to play football, Aemond simply can’t understand.

Aemond hides in the shadows and pulls his mask over his face. No one else is there. It’s just him and Robin. He crawls under the bleachers, moving purposefully to where Robin is. Taking out his knife, he smirks to himself under the mask. Quickly and ruthlessly, he slices through the flesh of Robin’s right ankle, cutting through his Achilles’ tendon. He revels in the sound of Robin’s screams of pain, as his victim falls to the ground. Aemond moves out from under the bleachers and chuckles when Robin sees him, the boy’s blue eyes widening in fear.

“What the fuck?” Robin screams, attempting to pull himself away, “What the fuck do you want from me?”

Aemond recalls what exactly he said to Robin during his little phone call to him last night.

“I’m going to gut you like a fucking fish and string you up for everyone to see. I want to see if you even have any guts, Robin Tully. Let’s fucking find out.”

“I’m here to keep my promise,” Aemond hisses, stabbing Robin in the lower abdomen.

Robin shrieks and writhes under Aemond’s grip, but Robin knows he is no match for him. So, with his last bit of strength, he grabs at his mask, successfully removing it. He gasps.

“T-Targaryen?”

“You shouldn’t have fucked with me, Tully,” he sneers, “And you definitely shouldn’t have fucked with her.”

Aemond drags the knife up, disemboweling the boy, laughing to himself as he watches Robin’s blood oozing out of him, and the light slowly leaving his eyes.

As Robin gives his last breath, Aemond whispers, “Bye bye, Robin baby.”

Meanwhile, you head to the bathroom after finishing a pop quiz in your history class. You’re ninety-nine percent sure you failed, but hopefully, the teacher cuts you a little slack all things considered.

All things meaning the fact that you were nearly fucking murdered yesterday.

You splash some water on your face and look in the mirror. You grip the sink so hard that your fingers feel like they might lose circulation.

Then, you hear something. It’s low, barely a whisper.

Someone just said your name.

But there was no one in here when you came in. You’d glanced at the bottom of each stall and didn’t see anyone’s feet. Your mind has to be playing tricks on you, right? You take a deep breath and turn around. Nothing. You let out a sigh of relief. But when you turn back, he’s there.

Staring at you in the mirror. You turn around and are too shocked to even scream. He advances on you, wrapping your wrists together with duct tape. This time? You struggle against him, but he turns you around, pinning you between himself and the sink, your back pressed to his chest.

And he’s fucking grinding himself against you. And you hate yourself, but you like it.

The thought makes your eyes water slightly. This guy is a fucking murderer. Why do you like this?

He slowly pulls one of his gloves off and you watch with morbid curiosity as the pale skin of his hand is revealed. You’re curious as to what exactly he’s planning to do. He moves to undo the button of your jeans.

Oh, shit. That’s what he’s planning to do.

He slides his hand inside, stroking you over the fabric of your panties. You moan quietly, leaning your forehead against the mirror, inadvertently pressing your ass against his hard-on. You hear him snicker to himself.

Oh, great. He’s a smug piece of shit on top of everything.

Aegon’s taped the voice changer to the inside of his shirt. So, he decides to speak.

“You look so pretty like this, angel. But I think you can get a little louder for me, huh?”

That fucking voice renders you incapable of a single rational thought. And he takes that chance to move your panties to the side and push two fingers inside of you. You let out a loud gasp, making him tilt his head to the side.

“That’s better, Princess.”

As he strokes moves his fingers in and out of you, you whimper, “Don’t call me that.”

Aegon smirks underneath the mask. You, his best friend, who beat the absolute shit out of him, are currently a fucked out mess just from his touch. He feels you moving your hips in time with the movements of his fingers in and out of you. He feels you squeezing around him and laughs.

“You gonna come all over my fingers, Princess? All over the hand that stabbed your pathetic little boyfriend to death?”

Okay. That should not have sounded as hot as it did. You started moving your hips faster, and he speeds up his movements too. He moves in further and hits a spot that you don’t think you have before because when he does, you can’t fucking move. You can’t think. The only thing you can do is let him press against it and completely come undone against his fingers.

Aegon moves his fingers out of you, grinning like a maniac underneath his mask. He uses his other hand to grip your hips and turn you around. You’re staring at him with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks. He moves his fingers to your parted lips, pushing them inside your mouth.

“Lick them clean for me, Princess.”

You do as he says, moving your tongue to taste yourself. You don’t know why you’re enjoying this, but you are. He eventually removes his fingers from your mouth, tilting your chin up. He brushes his thumb across your lower lip.

“See you next time, angel.”

He grabs his discarded knife from the sink. Absently, you realize all this time you could have gotten away. You just chose not to.

He cuts the tape binding your wrists and moves a finger to his lips.

Reminding you not to say a word.

By the time he’s gone, you know several things about the killer.

First, he’s a white male, around 5’10 or so.

Second, he goes to this school. How else would he have been able to find you both times?

Third, he knows you, and he knows that Will was your ex.

Maybe being a dumbass horny virgin isn’t such dumbass behavior after all.

#Jacaerys x reader #Jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #aemond Targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #Aegon x reader #Aegon Targaryen x reader #aegon ii #Aegon ii targaryen #Aegon targaryen ii #scream hotd au #scream for me fic #my writing

[rarepears]

Picturing Shen Jiu genuinely having no idea how the fuck to deal with his new family. There's the lazy tsundere with encyclopedic monster knowledge who apparently just stole his body and married his least favorite student. There's his least favorite student who apparently grew up to be a demon emperor. And there's his older brother who apparently turned out to be a serial killer. I just. I want Shen Jiu looking at his family and coming to the absolutely horrifying realization that he's the normal one. He's the only person in this goddamn family who is even capable of interfacing with normal people. He ends up rebefriending the jiejies at the Red Warm Pavilion on the trading basis of he vents about his weird family and they give him a list of shitty people to aim his older brother at.

+bonus points if Hannibal is the prodigal oldest child but Shen Jiu is the beloved spoiled fucking rotten baby of the family who unknowingly has all three of them wrapped around his finger.

Shen Jiu also has Yue Qingyuan wrapped around his finger!

His begrudgingly best friend is the rat's son who doesn't piss him off on a daily basis - which is more than what he can say about everyone else around him.

(Will is kind of... grateful? To finally have someone that he can easily read like a book. After being surrounded by all sorts of people that he can't use his empathy on with accurate results, it's quite comforting to know that his empathy can still work on SOME.)

[More in #hannibal lector reborn as Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe's firstborn son AU]

#svsss ideas #svsss #svsss au #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #shen yuan #the scum villain's self saving system #mxtx #hannibal lecter #hannibal idea #hannibal #hannibal lector reborn as Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe's firstborn son AU

[ghouletteanon]

Hi hello, I may have gotten an idea to call in that favour you offered with that ask for emotional aspect of ghouls inheriting their predecessors' instruments, right, you know what I mean, hahah.

so, yeah, what about just a little tooth rotting fluff drabble with swissdew? giving u a total free hand, maybe something with domestic shit like, idk, cooking for each other? LMAO, idk, just FLUFFFF, do with that what you will

(if you want ofc <3)

So here's 400+ words of murder ghoul Swiss and Dew being all murder husband-y together in the Hannibal way. Swiss making a very special meal for Dew type of way.

In other words, tooth rotting fluff, just for you <3

Rated T for off-screen murder.

Dew is wrapped up in a blanket, keeping himself warm even in the late October night. The only source of light is the dying fire that Swiss is tending to, not that the darkness bothers hellspawn. But it does lend itself to a certain ambience that Dew has come to appreciate.

Swiss’ face is illuminated partially by the red embers, making his white fangs stand out as he bites his tongue in concentration. Dew knows his mate, knows his perfectionist side. It’s better to not break his concentration even if all Dew wants is to reward his efforts with a kiss. And lick the sweat of his brow, but that’s not important.

Instead, Dew has to be patient and just watch. It’s awfully domestic and romantic even. Dew had provided Swiss with the meat, a novice who really should have known better than to cross the line from just watching to touching a ghoul who was clearly spoken for. Now, the novice was much better off as a gift to show Dew’s devotion. And as a way for Swiss to show his devotion to Dew by preparing a lavish feast that took a night and a day to cook.

All the work has paid off when Swiss lifts a bundle out of the fire pit with his bare hands. Dew is not worried, Swiss’ hands have a sheen of purple magick protecting them. It’s one of the things Dew loves the most about Swiss. His innate quintessence magick mixed with his fire powers made him completely immune to when Dew overheats.

Swiss cuts open the bundle of wet paper and chicken wire that has been buried for hours, being slowly cooked as Swiss watched the fire pit. The smells of the aromatics and cooked meat mix in the cold air, making Dew salivate. Dew walks over to where Swiss is kneeling, wrapping his arms around him from behind and watches Swiss cut the roast. He gives Swiss’ long neck a loving nip with his canines.“Smells absolutely sinful.”

Swiss picks up the first cut and offers it to Dew, holding it between his fingers. “Only the best for my mate.”

Dew licks Swiss’ fingers, making sure he does not miss a drop of the juices. It also makes Swiss’ breath hitch, and Dew loves the power he has over his mate in intimate moments like this. “Almost as delicious as you.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, little flame,” Swiss turns around and kisses Dew’s lips, sharing the taste of the lovingly prepared meal.

#the band ghost fanfiction #dew ghoul #swiss ghoul #request #ga writes #hypnoneghoul #murder ghouls

[filthyslashertoad]

How they act when they want your attention

All characters from first character list

(Requests and Matchups: OPEN)

Michael Myers

Pushes you and pokes you to get your attention

If you walk past him when he's sitting on the couch he'll pull you into his lap and won't allow you to get up until he no longer wants your attention

When he really wants your attention and doesn't feel like waiting, he'll grab you from whatever you're doing and take you to your bed for cuddles.

During these cuddles, he likes to rest his head on your chest while you play with his hair, let's hope your hands don't get sore quickly because he won't want you to stop playing with his hair till he falls asleep.

Billy Loomis

Your favorite Greasy Haired Molerat™, struggles to tell you when he wants attention, so he kinda just wraps his arms around you randomly

(Side Note: Blushes a lot whenever you play with his hands)

Prefers to spend time with you without anyone else around

Likes to watch movies with you while you sit in his lap

Stu Macher

Get's whiny when he wants attention from you

Comes up to you from behind and wraps his arms around your waist before leaning his body against yours.

He craves your attention all the time so whenever he can spend time with you, he asks for cuddles and kisses

he's very much into PDA and doesn't care if anyone sees you two cuddling and/or kissing( if you aren't into PDA then he'll be understanding about it and will request attention in private)

Likes to play with your hands whenever you spend time with him(mainly because he needs something to focus on since he's very fidgety)

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen

Instead of asking you for attention, he instead teases you and makes you want his attention

Rarely asks you for attention anyway since his narcissism makes him think to highly of himself

Anyways, he loves to shower you in kisses, which is just what he calls a makeout session

Calls you needy even when he's asking for you attention

Hannibal Lecter

If you two aren't that far into the relationship then he will formally invite you to his residence for cuddling or as he states a calm evening

When you do arrive at his residence he has quiet music playing in the background and wine sitting on the table next to assorted candies and finger foods.

He'll offer for you to sit with him on the couch and talk about your day, which slowly turns into you laying against him while you both talk about whatever interests you in that moment

After a while this becomes a weekly thing and will always end in him offering for you to spend the night at his place instead of leaving.

Brahms Heelshire

He's very shy so he will most likely ask you after a while of him building up the confidence to ask

Sometimes he climbs into your bed at night for cuddles

Refuses to be anything else other than little spoon

He also loves it when you praise and compliment him

Amanda Young

She's very touch starved and has completely forgotten what affection feels like, just be patient with her and after a while she will warm up to it

Her favorite way to gain your attention is when you both are in laying in bed, since she can just cuddle up to you in silence

Only asks you if she can cuddle with you when you aren't doing anything so she doesn't pressure you.

Michael Emerson(Lost Boys)

His favorite pastime is spending time with you and he constantly asks if you're available to hangout, so he's never without your company

But on the off chance you can't hangout, then he'll just lay on his bed out of boredom and after him laying there for at least an hour(he's very impatient) then he'll go to your place and talk to you about absolutely anything(even if you're still busy)

If you tell him to shut up then he'll just sit next to you quietly till you're no longer busy

Hellboy

Struggles with expressing when he wants to spend time with you

If you're both in a meeting/in public together, he'll wrap his tail around your wrist or leg(sometimes he does it without thinking)

Texts you after work to come get a drink with him, if you agree to go with him then you'll find out that he's been wanting your attention all day(courtesy of the alcohol he consumed)

He won't ask for your attention, but if you offer then he will 100% take you up on it.

Lady Dimitrescu

She's usually busy during the day, so she prefers to spend time with you when she's getting ready for bed or on the off chance she doesn't have a meeting with Miranda

Whenever she is free, her favorite way to spend time with you is when she's spoiling you with whatever you want or when she get's to hear about your day

She isn't very fond of affection but only because she never grew up with it, so after a while of you two being together she will eventually warm up to affection

Though she still won't be the one to engage in affection first and instead waits for you to do it.

Carlos Oliveira

Is an absolute teddy bear

Loves your attention and can never get enough of it

If you two don't live together then every week he likes to invite you over to watch movies and cuddle with him.

Get's sad when he can't spend time with you and after a couple weeks of this happening, he will begin to get gloomy and pouty

His coworkers even begin to wonder what happened to him since he's usually he's positive and outwardly nice to people.

Is overjoyed when he can finally spend time with you and will wrap his arms around you and won't let you go for hours.

#carlos oliveira #lady dimitrescu #hellboy #michael myers #billy loomis #stu macher #hannibal lecter #amanda young #michael emerson #brahms heelshire #danny johnson #michael myers x reader #dbd ghostface #resident evil 8 #bprd #slashers #lost boys #gender nuetral reader #xreader

[curlymantis]

aaaa pls tell me stuff abt your ocs they're all so cool!! 🥺💚

Omg I finally finished answering this!!!!! 👀👀

Farcry 5: Zoë Seed!!

Omg that’s me 😏 she was an entomologist checking out the cool insects of Hope county and unfortunately for her she doesn’t believe in private property when it comes to discovering nature. One day chosen find her trespassing on John seeds property. They think she’s a spy for the resistance as she has a camera, binoculars etc. They take her to the main church (conveniently was a Sunday) once service is over shes handed over to the father and himself and John go through her camera. They only find insect pictures and omg wow she’s not a spy. She’s indoctrinated into the cult and ends up eventually becoming John’s right hand of god 😌🙏 sinners who happen to be an extra annoyance go to her where she makes them confess in whatever way possible. Or they die in the process, whoops 💅🏻 She’s polyamorous with all of the seed siblings including Faith cos like come on now let’s be real they all crave and need loving. However she’s married to John Seed because that baby boy is everything 😤❤️ She also likes to do cult posters and help write songs and sing them cos it’s fun as hell. She is closest with John and Faith Seed specifically out of the 4 Seeds. Other cultists are scared of her, or is it respect? Hmm who knows 😌 She also tortures sinners for fun and chases them around the forest making them as shit scared as possible. Oops 😏

The Magnus Archives: is my oc who is an Avatar of the eye and Rayn Porter is my oc who a avatar of the corruption. They both have the same last name as they are both the same person just if they had gone down different entity routes in their life. I’ll talk about Rose first! (I also have an avatar of the flesh and the vast but I haven’t worked on them yet or got them ‘fully fleshed out’ 😏

Rose Porter: avatar of the Eye, marked by the stranger, the spiral and the vast.

From an early age Rose always felt the need to watch people, to know, to understand. As she got older these feelings only became stronger and she begins to stalk people, not because she finds that person special for any particular reason they just happened to look to long at her and she saw them doing so. That just sets something off In her so now they must be followed, acknowledged, understood and scrutinised (me self projecting right into my ocs 😌). She found the Magnus institute one day as she started stalking Rosie. when she had seen the woman walking into a large glorious building she knew something was off, like the itching feeling you get, the feeling in your gut, the sensation of something important. She did not know what had over come her to walk in the building so quickly as that would ruin her chances of learning further about this person who dared make her feel so uncomfortable. But there she was. She was hired immediately of course as a librarian, then moving on the be an archival assistant, shocking to her. But obviously not to Elias Bouchard who knew just how useful her alignment to his almighty beholder. To say she had a crush on him would be an understatement. She can’t explain it. Some would call infatuation, some would call it chemistry, but smart ones say it’s because they are both devotees to the eye and she is in so much deeper than she has ever anticipated or even realises 👀

Rayn Porter: avatar of the corruption, marked by the flesh, the lonely and the stranger.

Rayn despises people (same queen 🙄) they put animals on a higher level of respect than humans. The corruption took ahold of them as a young child, they would always follow and play with cockroaches as a child. However their mother was to say the least an unempathetic, transphobic and cruel woman to say the least. Rayn was raised in a household full of scrutiny, hate and fear. Because of this had very little friends as the only social interaction they knew was their bitch ass mother they turned to the ‘pests’ of their home. Whether these were the slugs and snails in the basement of their home, or they were the cockroaches, house centipedes and rats that dwelled in their attic. They loved and appreciated them all, but their was still something deeper to it. A deep rot had started to form in Rayn and they hated their mother and family. They hated them for how they had cast them aside for not being female, they hated them for all the mistreatment they had faced as a child. The rot started small, a odd old smell that started to lurk around Rayn. Eventually others would notice the smell but would shrug it off as the smell would soon be covered by the smell of Rayns chain smoking. Then one day Rayn was staring in mirror poking at their face and squeezing. They found a sore on her face and squeezed it, pus comes out but something moves underneath. They squeeze harder and something wriggles forth, it’s a very small, juvenile cockroach, streaked slightly in something slimey. As you can imagine that fucked them up a bit, but they learnt to embrace it. Learnt to love that crawling away just underneath their skin are thousands of little legs connected to cockroach’s of many sizes. Sometimes if not managed roaches will find themselves sneaking out of nostrils, mouth and ears. Sometimes even out from behind her eyes. One way they feed the corruption is they set forth the filth at a selected location. All it takes is for them to place a cockroach down in a building and within a week there will be a infestation so strong causing the people in said building to be taken down with it. The Cockroaches will feed on those that they can over power and The Corruption always needs feeding... (Also just want to add cockroaches themselves aren’t actually dirty, they’re actually obsessive cleaners. the locations they live in are dirty)

Telltale Batman- Roz Traegers:

first encounter with John Doe (the eventually to be known Joker) was at the bar he frequented. They had never once seen him drink a drop of alcohol. He would order beer constantly for his alcoholic sure but never consume it himself. Aside from his alabaster white skin nothing about him seemed out of the ordinary to them. Well except the fact he liked to stare, a lot. You would constantly worry it’s because he was just judging you based on your appearance (a lot of people do) however John just likes to stare at people and found you interesting for some reason (cliches I know, but me and John Doe are basically the same person and I like to think he’d think I’m interesting). Roz has a great dislike towards the people John works with, they don’t appreciate how badly they treat him. Especially Harley. John is so obsessed with Harley and she treats him like absolute shit. Roz had a plan to get Harley arrested, however John found out and threatened to never speak to Roz again. Roz has a soft spot for Mr Freeze specifically from the gang also.

Vampyr: Rose Pine

works as an assistant to Camellia at the florist. Rose isn’t a very chatty person and has had quite a traumatic up bringing. Her mother, sister and father are all unfortunately deceased. Her father killed her mother, then sister, then Rose, then turned the knife on himself. Rose survived her injuries (hence the scar on her throat) and was put out into the adoption system. Roses father believed he had been doing his family a service by taking their lives before they could be claimed by Ekons. Roses father had been a vampire believer long before they had even breeched the city. Rose always waves hello to Jonathan Reid when she sees him galavanting around. He always waves back and occasionally they will exchange a conversation. One evening they exchange more than just brief chit chat when Jonathan is required to save her from a group of feral Skals. Rose is very badly injured from her encounter and Jonathan ends up having to change the sweet little florist he sees most evenings into a Ekon. Rose is also good friends with Charlotte Ashbury and Charlottes mother Elisabeth. I haven’t played Vampyr in a wee while, I want to get back into it soon so plan on adding more to her story.

Outlast: Rosie Porter

Rosie worked as a live in psychiatrist for those at mount massive asylum. She lives on the premises that way patient can be attended to at any time. Her experiences throughout life gives her empathy for those that are locked up, that the other guards and majority of other staff just don’t have. Rosie has always been able to empathise with those who would be considered ‘evil’ whether she empathised out of her own sick fascination or because of her heart hurting too much is another question. Rosies favourite patients are Eddie Gluskin and Chris Walker. She was hired after Jeremy Blaire forcibly admitted Chris Walker. Rosie is enamoured with Eddie and he knows it. Knows he has his little psychologist wrapped around his finger. However Eddie would be a hypocrite if he said he also wasn’t wrapped around her finger. Rosie is forcibly committed to the asylum by Jeremy Blaire they start Project Walrider on the patients. Rosie was against it and threatened to blow the whistle on the whole thing (dumb idea) and Jeremy uses her as the first female Walrider test subject. Rosie has engaged in an affair with her boss Jeremy Blaire when she first started working there. Due to their past ‘hands on’ relationship, Rosie is allowed more time with her patients and allowed to be alone with her patients. This has allowed for her to further her work with her patients, as they’re quite open when the know they aren’t being openly judged by the security staff.

Hannibal: Jessi Trees

is a forensic entomologist who works alongside Beverly, Jimmy and Brian analysing dead people n shit. Jessi first met Will Graham on the scene of a crime when they had both been called out. It was the mushroom killer from memory as the soil was packed with invertebrates filled with evidence. Will has just finished doing his whole ‘this is my design’ when Jessi walks up to him and stands quietly beside him, where they say: “These fuckers are filled with worms and I don’t know shit about worms” Will Graham turns and looks at them like what the fuck? Those are dead people. Jessi merely shrugs, smirks and walks off. Jessi can be described by a lot of people as ‘a cold person’ or ‘indifferent’ but passionate. They dehumanise the corpses they’re working with at that’s the only way they can get justice for them. If they get too caught up in all the sadness of it, they can’t move forward from it. Jessi has a crush on Will Graham and Beverly Katz. Jessi questions Will and Hannibals relationship quietly from the background but never really comments.

Bonus character!! Stardew Valley: Zoë

This bad ass came all the way from Zuzu city in need of a better and different life. They inherit their grandfathers old farm and get it up and running. The town is filled with wonderful, amazing people. But of course Zoë has to want to become close friends with the person who hates me everyone: Shane (they’re kindred spirits, Shane isn’t aware of this however because he seems to think he’s the only person who can suffer from substance abuse and sever depression haha.) Shane hates them of course until they keep harassing him and he reasilizes she’s a lot more screwed up than he was aware. Zoë is close friends with Shane (ends up marrying him one day), Linus (I would fucking die for him and anyone who’s cruel to him gets my foot in the butthole), Leah (they hang out frequently and like to paint in the forest together), Emily (I have a massive crush on Emily haha, she’s so similar to me it’s great), is also friends with Sam’s dad and Jodis husband Kent (Kent suffers from PTSD and I’ve developed a lot of my own techniques to help with my own PTSD so we help each other out. Also Jodi I’m stealing your husband, just kidding, unless). Zoë’s favourite animals on her farm are her blue chickens (raised by Shane) and her horse Aaron. Zoë’s favourite yearly event is the moonlight jellies festival!

#farcry 5 #the Magnus archives #telltale Batman #Vampyr #Hannibal #outlast #stardewvalley #stardew #own character

[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.

#the haunting of bly manor #thobm #thobm fanfic #this is a completely crazy au i have no idea where i got the idea from but yeah #basically me not being able to accept that rebecca and hannah and dani died so yeah #some more family feels #but also grim reapers??????? #as always #no editing we die like dani clayton #happy reading y'all #dani x jamie #fanfiction

[queerhannibal]

if hannibal and will’s roles were reversed in digestivo, do you think will would have saved hannibal?

Oh now this is a QUESTION thank you holy shit

My gut response is “no, but he would have regretted it every day for the rest of his life”

But honestly… I don’t think he would have just left Cordell and Mason alive and free and unhindered lol like At That Point something had to be done about them or they were gonna kill not only Hannibal but also the girls for helping Will escape and yk. They were already out there being the worst human being alive. He already wanted them dead. So I think that overall Will would end up going on a similar killing spree to what Hannibal did? He probably would make more effort to sneak rather than just butchering EVERYONE but. He would kill or at least severely maim a lot of people, including Mason and Cordell

So yk that would “save” Hannibal since presumably that would happen along the same sort of timeline and Hannibal would still be alive. Part of me can easily picture Will just fucking leaving him on the operating table with everything still hooked up to him and being like “if he can’t move in time to get away that’s too bad but also I just Want Rest”

On the other hand I mean he is. Wildly in love with the bastard. And the situation they’ve just been through has been absolutely horrible and he’s tired but he also can’t bear the sight of Hannibal so vulnerable so he definitely at least unhooks and unbinds him.

Idk that Will is anything like strong enough to carry Hannibal though and idk that Will would be committed enough to Saving Hannibal to try to get him out of there by some other means? I mean sure there are other means available to him but?? He’s so tired and Hannibal recently tried to saw his head open. He just leaves him and distantly hopes Hannibal will be gone by the time the cops get here.

Chiyoh of course still shows up and she sure as fuck doesn’t help Will: she finds Hannibal paralyzed in the makeshift operating room and takes him away somewhere to heal. After that? Small ficlet under the cut or on ao3

Will expects that Hannibal will go back on the run, and leave him a new trail of bloody breadcrumbs to follow. He doesn’t intend to look for them.

He doesn’t expect the knock on his door a few days later—even if Hannibal did stay in the area, the idea of him being that direct would never have occurred to Will. But there he is, still battered and bruised. He looks almost worse than the last time Will saw him, like he hasn’t slept. Like he walked there from miles away. 

There’s a moment where Will considers shutting the door in his face. It really would only be fair. But he finds himself stepping back, opening it further to let Hannibal in and then shutting it behind him. The dogs are back home, and they cluster around, sniffing at the newcomer before Will orders them back to their beds with a sharp sound and a gesture. 

He stares at Hannibal. Hannibal’s eyes are roving over his face like he’s trying to memorize it again. Neither of them has said anything. Eventually Hannibal sways on his feet, and Will catches his shoulder, not caring if it was probably an act. Hannibal all but falls forward into him, clutching at Will like his life depends on it. 

Will wouldn’t have been surprised to feel the sharp stab of a knife, but there isn’t one. Just Hannibal wrapped as tightly around him as he can get, face buried in Will’s neck. Will’s arms come up around him as more a reflex than a conscious decision, and he feels wetness on his neck as Hannibal’s body shudders with a sob

It’s been a hell of a week, in as literal a sense as that phrase has ever been meant, and Will has been one good hug away from a breakdown himself since he saw Hannibal in front of the Botticelli. Maybe since he woke up in the hospital and Abigail was dead and Hannibal was gone. He’s not surprised when his own breath shakes and tears well in his own eyes. He leans into Hannibal and holds him tighter until they’ve cried themselves out, and then a little longer than that, and then he pulls Hannibal over to sit on the edge of the bed with him, shoulders touching, bracing each other.

“They’re watching my house,” he says.

“There is one man watching the driveway in a van,” Hannibal says, voice a little deeper and rougher than Will is used to. “Jack didn’t believe I would come to see you directly. Your ‘guard’ will believe he fell asleep at his post when he wakes in a few hours, and will tell no one for fear of losing his job.”

“You didn’t kill him?”

“I had hope that you would not inform Jack that I had been here. Killing him would have been difficult to explain.”

Will lets out a breath through his nose. “Why are you here?”

Hannibal’s face goes tight, and his lip trembles. “I couldn’t leave you again, Will. I—”

“Don’t,” Will says. He takes a deep breath, and it shakes more than he’d like it to. “Not right now.”

“Will I have another chance?” Hannibal counters. 

Will looks down at his hands, twisted together in his lap. He sees Hannibal’s in his peripheral vision, shifting aimlessly on his thighs. “I don’t know.”

Hannibal sighs, and it sounds shaky too. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Will says, before he can stop himself. He bites his lip, hard. “I’m so tired of all of this. I’m so tired.” He shakes his head a little. “I’ve missed you so much I thought I might die of it, but I can’t keep doing this.”

Hannibal’s hand twitches toward him before settling on his own thigh, squeezing so hard his knuckles go white. “I thought I was going to die,” he says slowly. “And the only thing that made me afraid was the thought that you were going to die too, and there was nothing I could do about it. That I was helpless to save you is what caused me alarm.”

You tried to kill me yourself the day before, Will thinks. He doesn’t say it. They both know it’s true, and it doesn’t change the fact that Hannibal is being honest.  Both truths hang between them, incompatible and not incompatible at all. Will reaches over and covers Hannibal’s hand with his own, carefully prying his fingers out of their grip on his thigh. Hannibal turns his hand over and grasps Will’s fingers just as tightly. 

“You can’t stay here,” Will says finally. “If that young man is honest, he’ll call Jack and they’ll search for you. He doesn’t entirely trust me where you’re concerned.”

“Should he?”

Will’s lip quirks up just a little. “Probably not.”

“You’re right that I can’t stay. Which means the time has come for you to decide what it is that you want.” Hannibal’s gaze burns into the side of Will’s head.

“What can I have? What are my options?” Will finally looks back up at him. “I want to come with you. I wanted it then. But I can’t do that if it’s just going to be like this.”

It’s Hannibal’s turn to look down at their hands. “Can I ask you to clarify what aspect of ‘this’ it is that you cannot tolerate?”

“I can’t live in fear of you gutting me and sawing my head open,” Will says bitterly. “If we’re going to do this we can’t keep hurting each other like this.” His voice softens. “I am so tired, Hannibal. I can’t keep fighting you.”

“Alright,” Hannibal says, stroking his thumb across the back of Will’s hand. “That is not as difficult a request as you seem to imagine, Will. I want you alive and well and with me. I know that now with certainty.”

Will laughs a little, to keep himself from crying again. “Wish you’d figured it out before.”

He’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t Hannibal’s quiet, “Me too.”

There’s nothing to say to that. They sit in silence for another little while, Hannibal’s thumb rubbing gentle circles into Will’s skin, until Will sighs again and says, “Let’s go.”

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #asks #anon asks #3x07 Digestivo #my writing #headcanons #meta #sorry ajhsfgkdsjh this got away from me #maybe someday I'll actually write the whole thing #it's a v interesting concept #oh my god that's over a thousand words fksjgedha I'm gonna post it on ao3

[vera-dal-1926]

Welcome to my Hannibal/Bedelia snail-scene Ted Talk.

( video in question can be found here on my twitter )

This is, without a doubt, my favorite fucking scene from the entirety of the Hannibal TV show. I watch it daily. You know Hannigram is my number one ship, but Du Maurier has always been my favorite character. And I find her relationship with Hannibal to be one of the most honest, intimate, and scathing shown on the show. This scene in particular perfectly sums up the love that they share in Italy and I want to talk about why.

We open up on Hannibal and Bedelia after intimacy, we know this because of the way they are dressed (or lack thereof), and Bryan’s infinitely infamous tweets “THEY TOTALLY BONED” and how he mentioned that the snails they are eating are “post-coital munchies.” Hannibal gingerly feeds her before himself, which for a hungry and terribly selfish man, doesn’t go unnoticed. He serves her a drink of whiskey and begins to stroke and caress her neck for the entire duration of their conversation, occasionally taking her pulse as they speak. The way he plays and toys with her hair, the wandering fingers never ceasing their affectionate actions is not only totally ASMR-worthy, it’s extraordinarily soft for such a violent and untrustworthy man. He’s admiring her, worshiping her gingerly as they discuss Will and his intentions here.

Notice her acceptance of the touch, not only leaning into it, but leaning against him as he embraces her from behind. Her cheek pressed against his as she relaxes under his comforting, but suspicious touch.

The first thing Bedelia says is a toast to “the misfortune of the snail,” mourning the loss of a life, no matter how little. Even though Bedelia has taken a life of her own (or two, but who’s being TECHNICAL here), even that urge to crush the baby bird she confides in about with Will, she still bemoans for the loss. Bedelia doesn’t lack empathy. She’s somewhere between Will’s empathy disorder and Hannibal’s complete lack of it. She’s a foil to their black and white humanity- Bedelia Du Maurier is simply grey. Hannibal swiftly turns the topic onto her. “Snails follow their nature surely as those who eat them.” She is guilty by accepting the cooked snail, regardless of her sympathy for it’s situation. He says this as he first makes contact and strokes her hair, one side, a hand crawling up her back, and to the other side. Bedelia explains that fireflies live brief lives, and Hannibal responds that it’s “better to live true to yourself for a moment, then to never know it.” Which is directly about himself and Will; Hannibal has lived true to his vile nature, shining bright, while he believes that Will has never accepted his true self.

“Like Will Graham does?” Bedelia isn’t interested in speaking in thinly veiled metaphors any longer, she says his name directly to get a reaction out of Hannibal. After all, he just loves speaking about that sad, shaggy dog-man. She’s abundantly aware, but Hannibal doesn’t confirm nor deny. He simply states “an insect lacks morality to agonize over,” but that isn’t true, because Will Graham has absolutely agonized over his morality since the moment he came into contact with Hannibal Lecter. “Will agonizes about inevitable change.” That change references being the change in the men’s relationship, with Will accepting his fate as no better or no worse than a serial killing cannibal. That change also being the gutting and being tossed aside as Hannibal had done before eloping to Italy.

Bedelia is listening closely, and you can tell by the way she is gently tilting her head and her ear towards him. As a trained therapist, she is detecting every word, every syllable, and analyzing it carefully. Bedelia is careful about the words she chooses, speaking slowly, clearly, and concisely. Hannibal does this as well, making their conversations lengthy and difficult to decipher. But here, she’s dropped her shoulders under his touch and finds herself vulnerable enough to admit something:

“Almost anything can be trained to resist it’s instinct,” and she looks directly at him, eyebrows raised. Hannibal’s idle fingers continue to wander up her neck. She’s speaking about herself now, no longer Will. Her instincts tell her she should run from the man in the person suit, she’s overtly aware of how dangerous he is and how futile their relationship in Italy is. She’s gone against the law, aiding his escape, and encouraging his bad behavior. As his therapist, she’s gone against everything she’s been working toward to join him in another country. Perhaps she feels she owes him when he helped cover up the murder of her previous patient, or perhaps against her better judgment, she does love him. But whatever it is, it’s caused her to resist her nature to run from him. The raised eyebrows imply she’s almost amused by this, not having expected such a strong, independent woman (no partner, no children) to fall for such a thing. “A Shepard dog doesn’t savage the sheep,” she tells him, and his fingers wander up to behind her ear. He’s listening to her just as closely.

Hannibal responds by embracing her from behind, arm encircles her shoulder, and he presses himself and his cheek against hers. Bedelia relaxes into it, not only allowing the touch, but leaning into it. She feels safe and relaxed amongst their quiet conversation- she may even feel relieved for admitting such things aloud. “But it wants to,” Hannibal whispers to her, referring to the urges of the hound who vows to protect. Hannibal is very much this hound. He would not savage her, he has promised as much and he respects her far too greatly to do such a thing, but as always, that urge resides him. It will never go away. And with that confession in response to hers, the topic returns to Will. Bedelia visibly swallows.

“Will has reached a state of moral confounding. Empathy and reciprocity.” Hannibal states, and this makes her laugh. “Oh,” she breathes with a chuckle, suddenly understanding the relationship between the two men more clearly than she ever has before: “Reciprocity. If we keep track of incoming and outgoing intentions, Will Graham is en route to kill you, while you lie in wait to kill him.” Because that is the circle of life the two men have found themselves dancing around since the moment they laid eyes on one another. Horns locked in a constant battle of wills, each struggling to grasp the upper hand, but it will always end in a stalemate, as they are equally matched. They find fulfillment in each other in this deadly exchange. It benefits them both. It’s simply cat and mouse.

rec·i·proc·i·ty /ˌresəˈpräsədē/

noun

the practice of exchanging things with others for mutual benefit, especially privileges granted by one country or organization to another.

Hannibal’s eyes close from behind her as she says these painfully accurate words, they touch something deep inside him. A hand wraps around her neck with need, but he doesn’t squeeze- the touch is intimate, not lethal. Bedelia doesn’t flinch, simply staring out the window as she realizes she’s figured the men out. She sips her whiskey, proud of herself, and whispers her final parting words to Hannibal Lecter:

“Now, THAT’S reciprocity.”

#hannibal #bedelia du maurier #commentary

[masterswrd]

tagged by @horrorcupid for this hannibal tag game and i went bananas with it 

favourite episode and why: Su-Zakana! the horse episode! Very gross but I love Peter! Hannibal’s outfits are stunning! Will being an elegant bisexual. We get to meet Margot! “How would you do it?” “With my hands.” I ALSO! Think! That Will is more sad in this episode than he is in all previous episodes. He just got out of being institutionalized for a year, having lost his teaching job. He meets Peter and gets reminded that he’s been abused in the same way. As sexy as the “how would you do it” scene is, I really think Will has no clue what he wants to do with Hannibal. After a year of being separated by bars and chains, he’s finally so close enough to wrap his hands around his throat and once he gets there I don’t think he knows what he would do next, but his whole body would be on fire while he did it. (honorable mention for hannibal petting the sheep) oh and the hands! Will is desperately trying to tune out hannibal. he doesnt want to see him or listen to him because he’s right!! THEN! Hannibal stopping the hammer of Will’s gun and brushing their fingers to directly mirror hannibal and clarice in silence of the lamb! I will never get over Hannibal just holds Will at the nape of his neck and gets so close. when will finally looks at him he’s met with hannibal smiling and looking at him with pure adoration and it kills will so bad that his internalized homophobia jumped out in the next episode where he dreams about hannibal telling him he loves him and has to kill him in the dream because its the only scenario where hannibal would stop loving him and he knows that and it kills him. 

least favourite episode and why: probably Ouef because it feels like a crime procedural more than any of the other episodes and child death / abuse makes me very sad : ( also not gay enough

favourite main character: i hate all these people but probably Will because im a repressed psychotic bisexual who doesnt know whats going on ever. 

favourite side character: freddie all the way. she hates cops, loves drama, and hannibal loves her website and who am i to argue with the guy who has the most taste in the whole show? seems kinda cringe to hate her tbh

if you could bring back one character who died, who would it be: abigail! i think she shouldve been able to escape everyone and heal and cut her hair and live in the twin cities and find a girl that kisses her under the minnehaha falls ice cave! 

dish prepared in the show that you would like to try eating/making: the black chicken soup sounds really good. ive actually been wanting to order the ingredients since soups are my jam and i cook all the time and have enough faith in myself to get it right. 

which side character would you kill off: theres nobody alive that i wouldnt want to stay alive. but i wish we wouldve gotten the scene that they cut of cassie boyle blowing cigarette smoke in hannibal’s face that sounds so funny and on track with the people i know who go to the U of M duluth. 

was there any scene that you didn’t like to look at: when will and hannibal look at eachother im just like “turn this shit OFF”

biggest ship: how about FRIENDships, i say kicking the hannibal x will fics im writing under the rug. i think will and margot shouldve bonded more and i wish peter was a recurring character who was best friends with will and had pet play dates. will deserves people that care about him!!

why did you start watching hannibal: i originally started watching it cuz i used to be friends with a will graham kinnie but then i got bored and hopped off after the 3rd episode but this summer i sat down and watched it with my wife and we had no spoilers and went nuts the whole time it was great. 

favourite fic if you’ve read any: We Killed a Dragon Last Night by inameitlater along the two other fics in that series. it’s absolutely devastating and im a sucker for time travel / groundhog day kinda stuff and dark will!! it’s great you gotta read it if you havent. 

have you watched any of the hannibal films: yes! after watching manhunter i realized that bryan fuller really did all this cuz will was hot in that movie. there was also a very tender moment between will and dr bloom that i really liked. anthony hopkins is also very good at being a creepy little man and his tiktok account is so damn funny.

have you read the thomas harris books: i’ve read Red Dragon and i wish they but more nasty will in the show where he’s an asshole and cussing. i think its weird that none of the adaptations do a good job and showing will has a shitty marriage and has a temper and him and molly were drifting apart cuz her family hates him cuz he’s nuts and it makes him mad and sad that he cant have anything happy after hannibal. 

favourite murder tableau: probably the heart but when it unravels and starts to like stalk toward will. i think its a good metaphor of will being terrified of hannibal’s love for him

favourite blood spill: margot and alana killing mason. it made me very happy the whole time. 

what’re some of your headcanons: jimmy price has a bee keeping husband and thats why he had bee facts, will is trans and abigail is trans but they’re awkward and uncomfortable so they never feel comfortable to tell the other or how to bring it up cuz they dont want the other to think they’re more weird than they actually are, they both vent about this to hannibal who says “oh gee oh wow what a dilemma” and some shit about butterflies and doesnt help at ALL.  

this was fun!!!! im gonna tag @bisexywill cuz i think all my other hannibal mutuals were already tagged. 

#w.txt #i was writing and then this distracted me so much but in such a good way

[vulpesmellifera]

Fic Offerings of 2019

Ahhhh!!! I can’t believe the end of 2019 is here!

My goal at the beginning of 2019? Post six short stories and start posting one long fic. Instead, I posted 15 stories of varying length, and wrote the long fic, (two long fics, in fact), but it needs some attention I wasn’t really willing to give it in 2019.

And I’m okay with that. 

I expected to write Mystrade, and I ended up writing that plus Sherstrade, Johnlock, and Hannigram. 

Mystrade: The Longer Fics

The Tenth Muse - Two parts comprise this work, with 27,605 words between them. Mycroft sees things other people can’t. Lights, spectres, shades, demons, phantasms, and creatures that no one else can see. Voices no one else can hear. Colours eddying around people’s bodies, visible only to his eyes. It isn't deduction for Mycroft; it's a living nightmare that leads to self-imposed isolation. When Sherlock "dies," Mycroft finds himself reaching out for a golden slice of happiness, just one person to call his own in a landscape of horrors.

(On a lark, an absolute lark, I tell you, I wrote The Tenth Muse. In no way did I expect the reception it got, and I thank every one of you who read it, and left a kudos or a comment, from the bottom of my heart.) 

Craquelure - Two parts, 44,172 words. Part 1, To Capture Light, was actually posted in December of 2018. Part 2, Shaping the Negative, was posted this year, and takes up soon after where the first part left off. Mycroft Holmes had everything in hand: a powerful position in civil service to the Crown with the ability to affect politics across the globe, an impeccable taste in modern luxuries, and an iron-clad philosophy on life and how one should live it. He didn't expect it to shatter around him in a series of events facilitated by his siblings.This is the story of his rebirth.

(The reception to this one also included personal family stories from readers, and I treasure every one of you, particularly those among us who have suffered toxic family relationships, and have found our way out or above them. Part 3, The Hue of Loss, planned for 2020!)

Mystrade: The Shorter Fics

Woes of the Pharynx - Sickfic. Fluff. Humor. 844 words. The British Government felled by a cold. Oh, who could possibly take care of him?

The Petal Painter - Part of the #MystradeStoryTime series. Each part stands alone. 1,897 words. Gregorios is the beloved son of the Grain Goddess, safe and treasured inside her gardens. One day, he meets an alluring stranger dressed in black.

Marry Me - Part of the #MystradeStoryTime series. Each part stands alone. 1,684 words. Mycroft doesn't care for marriage; it's a vestigial organ on a modern society. Greg cares about marriage. Yet, he's never brought it up with Mycroft. That begins to chafe at the civil servant.

Sun-Bleached - Part of The Songs of Solomon series. Each part stands alone. 2,154 words. Sherlock would find curious things: the dried exoskeletons of crustaceans, hollowed out shells of mollusks, and one time, the sun-bleached bones of a little bird that usually nested along rivers. Alcedo atthis, the common kingfisher. That image never quite left my mind. Sherlock’s face like a bright beacon on an overcast day, the skeletonized remains of a bird that waved with his movements, held between two fingers. This is how I want Greg Lestrade: pinched between two fingers, a flag in the breeze, unshielded from the elements of me.

With Appetite - Part 2 of Imperfections Can Be Loved. Can stand alone. 2,937 words. Sometimes when he thinks of that fat little boy, he is reminded of the monster Charybdis. She was a fleshy thing with a gargantuan maw who was chained to the rocks on one side of a strait. She waited for passing ships, sucking down her prey in a voracious whirlpool before her neighbour Scylla snatched up too many of the sailors. He doesn’t have to wonder what it is, to be a despised thing that aches with appetite. Mycroft Holmes is a proud man, particularly when it comes to his work and his massive intellect. But for his new fiance, he thinks he can do better in terms of appearances.

Night of the Grey Mare - Christmas Fic with a touch of horror. 8,606 words. Every Christmas Eve, Mycroft visits the Watson-Holmes family to deliver a story to his precious niece, and share in a little of the mulled wine. This year, Rosie wants to hear something scary. Mycroft tells her a frightening tale of The Christmas Witch, and then takes his leave before Sherlock and John can enact their usual routine to make him feel unwelcome.The way home is fraught with unforeseen events and Mycroft soon finds himself in his own frightening tale of horror. Or does he?

Pillow Fights - Humorous ficlet. 821 words. Mycroft returns home early from a business trip to surprise Greg. Greg isn't the only one who gets surprised.

Pillow Fights, Redux - A different take, still a humorous ficlet. 952 words. Greg gets back early from a conference, to find Mycroft pining in a way he would never have thought.

Sherstrade 

[Deleted] - 10,400 words. Greg Lestrade and John Watson awake to find themselves locked in an unfinished basement. While they are well acquainted with one another, the two men aren't friends. But, the darkness has ways of bringing people closer together. Meanwhile, Sherlock and Sally must work together to solve the case of a missing John Watson.They're running out of time.

Johnlock 

Haunted -  Horror Fic. 22,369 words. Plagued by the past, John moves himself and his daughter to a new flat for a fresh start - and it's not 221B Baker Street. While he grapples with new knowledge and old guilt, he's confronted with odd neighbors and strange noises in the night. But is it the new flat, or is John Watson losing his grip on reality?

The Stars Upon Your Back - Part 1 of Imperfections Can Be Loved. 1,735 words. Sherlock prefers shadows to sunlight, his coat collar popped and his scarf wrapped about his neck like a hug. He wears bespoke because he’s trim, but he prefers to feel covered, and wears the dressing gown more often than not. The first time John Watson kisses him, he’s stricken. Sherlock Holmes is painfully aware of his ugly parts and his failures when it comes to John Watson.

Hannigram

Leftovers - Post-Canon Domestic Fluff. Basically, this is my headcanon for what Hannibal does with his leftovers. 1,311 words.  Will discovers that Hannibal has a soft spot for one other kind of creature in his life.

Aaaaannnnddd that’s all she wrote, folks! (Well, not all...but everything that got posted!) A Happy New Year to everyone! <3

Cheers,

Vulpes

#end of year #fic roundup #vulpesmellifera #johnlock #mystrade #hannigram #sherstrade #2019

[youweresoafraid]

First kiss

A Hannigram ficlet for @devereauxsdisease – a little thank you for the beta reading and general cheerleading.

Also on AO3.

Will wakes slowly, reluctantly, and finds himself spooned behind a warm shape in the darkness.  A shape that can only be Hannibal, because they were sharing a bed when he fell asleep – but not like that.  Not like this.  Hannibal had been pale and mute after sewing up the damage from Dolarhyde’s bullet, and Will had been a raw mess.  Neither of them had been capable of walking, even after the morphine, and the bed was big enough for both of them.  It all made sense at the time.

Will snorts out a laugh, because nothing about his and Hannibal’s relationship is sensible.  Then he quiets, and lies still, because he doesn’t want to wake Hannibal.  The man needs his sleep.  They both do, so Will relaxes as best he can, given that he’s pressed up against the man, crotch to ass, one arm wrapped around him so that he can feel Hannibal’s chest swelling with deep, even breaths.  The sound, and the gentle rhythmic movement of it, start to lull Will back towards sleep.

His nose is only a couple of inches from Hannibal’s neck, and he remembers the time – a lifetime ago, now – when Hannibal leaned in and smelled him.  Will has no idea what it’s like, that whole world of scents and tastes that Hannibal lives in, chemicals triggering receptors, pathways lighting up in that convoluted brain of his.  Will shifts a little closer and inhales, and the reek of iodine hits his nostrils.  Closer still, until his nose is almost touching the skin at the back of Hannibal’s neck, and he can imagine how it would feel, soft and faintly damp.  Will takes a lungful of air, and this time it’s laden with the ripe aroma of sweat.  It’s not unpleasant.  In fact, it’s something of novelty that Hannibal actually smells of something other than expensive aftershave.

Hannibal stirs slightly in Will’s arms, and a sharp, unpleasant noise escapes him – the sound of pain – so Will presses a kiss to the nape of Hannibal’s neck and the noise subsides.  Will has no idea why he did that, just knows that he needs to stop, but he can’t stop, and now his lips are brushing across the jutting vertebrae at the base of Hannibal’s neck.  The skin there is just as soft as he imagined, a velvet warmth, and Will’s mouth roams upwards until his nose is buried in Hannibal’s hair, and, shit –

Hannibal’s awake.  He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, but Will feels tension tighten in his muscles, feels his breathing comes faster, shallower.  Will flinches back.  He has no idea what to do, what to say, because it’s not like he planned this – and he knows that’s no excuse.  Now Hannibal is pulling away, pulling free of Will’s grasp, and Will isn’t going to drag him back because whatever happens now it has to be Hannibal’s choice.

Then Hannibal is rolling to face him, and Hannibal’s lips are on his.  And they don’t need to speak, because everything that Will wants to say, everything that he needs to hear, is encompassed in the way their mouths devour each other, the way their hands clutch, dragging each other closer, holding each other tighter, in spite of the pain.  This ought to be strange, because Hannibal’s his friend, his colleague, his enemy – there’s not even a word for what Hannibal is, for what he is to Will – and this is all so utterly new, but at the same time it’s absolutely familiar.  It’s comfortable, and comforting, in spite of the need that’s building behind it.

And that’s the only strange thing here: feeling the tug and the ache of desire without the urgency of arousal – because Will doesn’t have the energy for that right now.  He’s too tired, too sore – and frankly he’s not sure he has enough blood left in his body – but that’s all right.  There’s no hurry.  He twines his fingers in Hannibal’s, an unspoken promise.  Hannibal waited three years for him, for them, and Will is going to wait as long as he has to.

“Go back to sleep,” Will murmurs, and he lets his eyes fall shut.  They’ll both be there in the morning.

#hannibal #will graham #hannigram #300 words #my fic

[this-is-madsness]

So, I am watching cake wars and got reminded of a thing I wrote once ;)

Anon asked: [text] Anywhere you can eat green eggs and ham, you can have sex., - Hannibal and Bedelia, please.

Would you like to in a house? Hannibal rolled onto his side, breathing hard. A small hand gripped his own and squeezed it lightly while the woman the hand belonged to also tried to regain her breath and heart rate.  She curled next to his side and placed her head on his chest over his drumming heart. Her nose rubbed over the stubble on his chin and her lips pepped small kisses along his jaw line.  He smiled and caressed her shoulder with lazy patterns until he felt his eyes grew heavy. They had become quite cuddly the last month, completely against their intention to keep their relationship professional and just release some steam every now and then. They lingered in bed more than necessary, he kissed her hello and goodbye and sharing a glass of wine after their sessions often ended with them tangled in her sheets. And they had really tried to keep their hands off from one another.  But they were just human. And after they had tried, they liked it.

Would you eat her in a Box? Her cheeks were already reddened, her lips parted and her hand tried hard not to guide his head to her clit to get her final release. He teased her since the first act of la traviata, the opera long forgotten and just the pure pleasure waving through her body.  He had booked the box at the opera just for the both of them, as a little present for her upcoming birthday, he had said.  Now she sat above the heads of hundred people that were listening intently to the actors and she was fighting hard not to cry out or moan to loud to rise any suspicious looks from other boxes or from the people on their seats.  “God, Hannibal,” she moaned as his tongue licked over her clit a few times.  He looked up to meet her eyes and she could feel him smile until he ducked under her ball gown again to continue his task. As the second act ended and the lights began to flicker on both doctors were engaged in conversation with other colleagues they had met by chance as one of the wives of her colleagues mentioned the healthy color of her cheeks. She threw Hannibal, who began to chuckle and wiped his mouth, a warning look and tried to give a proper answer.

Would you ride him in a car? They made their way home from one of the many galas they nowadays were invited to. She was his Plus One most of the times or he hers, that made it easier for both of them to avoid questioning why they always attended alone. Or whey they would leave together.  The gossip on both of them was a well-used topic in many conversations, speculations and also bets were there enough but no one could clearly say what they were to each other.  It these fools would know that they didn’t know the answer themselves… Her car was brought out to the door and she climbed in the driver’s seat of her Jaguar C-X16, a tricky mission in her long gown.  Hannibal slid into the passenger’s seat with ease, and they both headed off into the night.  In front of his house she shut down the car and looked over to him. This was always a moment that decided what they would do, what they could do.  Their eyes locked and it just took one swift movement for him to pull her into his lap and hike up her dress.  She had to wait nearly 10 minutes afterwards to get the steam out of her car to see something again through her windows.

Would you like him on the tree? He knew she hated hiking more than anything else, but somehow he had convinced her to go with him when he offered a small hunting trip into the woods.  Her reward would be to know what he would serve her for dinner, so she didn’t complain much as he had picked her up early this morning.  But she had imagined it quite different. Normally he would explain a lot to her about topics she hadn’t that much knowledge as she had.  But today he was all quiet and only looked into the wood instead to her. She had imagined her back scratching against a tree while she would chant his name until no animal would come near the place again, and him pounding into her with her beloved roughness.  “Whats the matter with you today, Hannibal? You seem awfully quiet?” She wondered aloud and caught his attention.  He turned his head to her and studied her face for a few seconds before he got up from their hiding place and headed back into the direction where she imagined their car.  He hadn’t spoken a single word when they arrived back in his home and he made her the rabbit stew he had promised her.

Would you, could you in the dark? The rain already fell when they arrived at his home later that evening and also there was a slight rumbling in the far distance. The weather mirrored her feeling better than anything else this evening. After they finished their meal she helped him carry their plates into the kitchen and placed them in the dishwasher.  Until now they just had shared a few simple words, nothing like they normally did. And it bothered her to no end that he hadn’t told her what was wrong with him today. So when she just was about to put the last plate into the dishwasher and the lights went out and the plate slipped out of her fingers she wasn’t surprised to find him snapping at her for smashing his good porcelain.  But she wouldn’t let him get away with that, not tonight.  She had gone hiking with him and had spent her whole day in the mud and was now pissed as hell that he made a fuss over one plate.  They raged, they screamed and they fought like they had never before. In fact they never had raised their voices over one another. But every time there would be a first time.  She headed out into the dark, realizing her car wasn’t at his place when the sky cracked again with lightning and another rush of rain poured down.

Would you kiss her in the rain? He wanted to ignore the fact that she was out there, in the rain, soaking. He had slammed the door after her but now was concerned where she would go in the rain.  He pulled his raincoat from the rack and threw it over, letting the front open and took an umbrella with him.  It was pitch black outside and even the streetlamps couldn’t illuminate the streets to see where she had gone.  But she couldn’t have gone far, so he hurried the street into the direction where she lives and after just a few minutes he finds her, huddled under the small roof of a store nearby. Her hair is plastered on her head and droplets of rain are dripping from her nose and chin and her lips are chattering.  Even if she had worn practical clothes to go hunting, they weren’t the ideal attire for pouring rain.  He had tried to fight his feelings for her for too long now, the back and forth hurting him and making him cranky. He wasn’t sure what has gotten into him that evening when he yelled at her for absolute no reason, but now, while standing in front of her and looking into her blue eyes everything was forgotten and the only thing existing in his world was she.  His lips crashed down on hers and she didn’t need any other apology, any words or confessions of love. She knew.  He could kiss, would kiss, and should have kissed her a lot earlier like this.

Would you, could you on a boat? The waves splashed against the white luxury yacht in the harbor of Barcelona. After they had fled America and left Florence for good they had set sail to find a place where they could search for new identities, for a new home.  Hannibal had just fixed them a mojito and added the last cubes of ice as she emerged out of the sun, just clad in a small dark red bikini. He definitely liked when they went to sunny places, which was for sure.  She smiled as he handed her the cold drink and he watched her lips wrapping around the straw and sucking the cold liquor into her mouth.  He had to gulp down the lump that formed in his throat to not jump her that exact moment. She knew what she did to him, that minx. Her hair flowed down her back now and she tossed it out of her face as she made her way back to the deck chairs where she had made herself comfortable.  Hannibal watched her gracefully lay down again and putting her sunglasses on.  He could see her exhale and relax again and decided he was granted a bit fun. He pulled out his phone and typed a text he had longed to write for a long time. The realization that they had nearly done all parts of Dr. Seuss “Green eggs and ham” with naughty intercourses combined with places and setting amused him to no end.  So he typed “Anywhere you can eat green eggs and ham, you can have sex. Have we ever tried on a boat?”  He could see that she picked up the phone and read his text the moment it hard chirped its tune.  Small line appeared on her forehead, clearly she tried to figure out what he meant by that.

He could nearly hear the penny drop and her crackling laughter felt like music in his ears. He nearly couldn’t react that fast as she was by his side, still laughing as she brought his mouth down to hers.  “Would we, could we… on a boat?”

#bedelia du maurier #hannibal lecter #bedannibal #hannidelia #my writing

[wyrm-wolf]

Snow White

Ah yeah! Another day for @thesilverqueenlady Hannibal Ever After calendar. Today's even is....Snow White. Which I mainly went with the movie Show White and the Huntsmen because it had such a good twist. Enjoy ~ "One more. One more, person or monster who calls me Snow White, and I swear to whatever God is put there. That they're going to regret they were ever born...or I could just kill everyone who dare so glances towards my path." Will fumes, riding on his old brown mare down a snowy path. There's a soft huff of laughter that comes next to him, and a warm accented voice speaks up. "Ah, but you see my dear, I do so love that little nickname of yours. It is quit fetching and easily catches onto ones tounge." Hannibal muses, riding his own black war horse which puffs of great mist leave it's snout. Will reaches over to punch Hannibal in the arm. Hard. "Rude." "Shut up. Hannibal we hunt monsters for a living, if you can't rake a single punching from me then this job is obviously not for you." Will growls. "Seeing as how I've been doing it longer than you? I think some respect is in order." "Bite me." "Only if you ask nicely." And well, Will has to groan at that. Hannibal, for all his cruel training and words, how he would kill both man and beast for being rude, he can be the absolute most ridiculous man in the world. Will rolls his eyes, and stares blankly at the road ahead. Two days. Two days they've been on the road towards the cave of some fearsome ice bear that has taken to ransacking a nearby village. So they called upon the help of Hannibal and Will, mainly know for their vast knowledge of monsters and how they also are called Monster Hunters. Or Neely named by some fake witch named Freddie Lounds, Snow White and the Huntsmen. At first it was funny to guess which was which, then there was that shocking reality where Will was apparently named Snow White. 'For his curly hair as black as a ravens feather. Skin white as snow, and red as blood after a fresh kill. Will Graham may have the appearance of a young lost doe, but don't let that fool you, for once you really see what he's capable of you can see that he's a murderer.' Will dis not take kindly to this, and had hunted down the witch, until finding out she had ran off somewhere and vowed to kill her the next chance he got. Meanwhile, Hannibal wore his title proudly yet in disdain from the witches notes about him. 'More of a beast than he is of a man. Hannibal Lecter, is a man who can charm anyone into spilling their secrets to him, but he is also someone who is hiding skeletons in his closet. Yet, with that arm he is constantly hiding from anyone's view, makes you question what his main purpose is.' Hannibal had frowned at the paper, before tossing it in the fire for added fuel. Now with each and every new town that came upon to aid, some citizens would cower in their sight and kids would stare at Hannibal's right arm in awe and question. At first they rode down the street silently, until they walked into an Inn, and some one made the grave mistake of calling Will, Snow White. Hannibal didn't even try to stop him from beating the man with a bar stool, he just smiled and offered a drink when Will finished. "How was the brawl, dear?" Hannibal asked, watching as Will downed the entire whiskey. "Terrible. The fool couldn't even lift a hand up to me, not even a finger." Will smiled, before pulling Hannibal up to their room to have a little more privacy. Now two days later, and Will was freezing and grumpy. He snapped at anything that chose to move in his peripheral vision, and threw a fit once in a while. Hannibal stayed calm throughout the whole ordeal, and would wrap his strong arms around Will before calming him down. And kissed at those lovely dark curls he adored so much, before releasing Will. "How much farther did you day we had?" Will asked, breaking the thin cold air of silence which settled between the two hunters. Hannibal hummed, closing his eyes for a minute to think then answered, "Not too far, love. Just up that hill, see that cave entrance over there. That's where the beast is hiding." "I see....last one there is a rotten witch, and has to do the cleaning for the next week." Will yelled, kicking his mare into a gallop, running down the road towards the monsters cave. "Childish." Hannibal tsk, kicking his own horse into a gallop. Will smiles at the fun of the chase, he's always been the one to start games with Hannibal. Granted that sometimes he never wins some, but he also never looses all the time. He looks back to see Hannibal catching up with him. Leaning forward, Will whispers softly into Winston's ears for her to go faster, and as always the mare complies to his soft words. And soon he's loosing sight of Hannibal's horse. Will leans back and laughs, throwing his hands up in triumph when he reaches the caves entrance. Only to have the victory live shortly, when he sees Hannibal standing next to his horse in front of the entrance. Will's hands drop to his side, as he frowns deeply. Hannibal smirks while Will jumps off his trusted mare, and ties the rope for her. He continues to smirk when Will stomps over and shoves him a little, before pouting a bit. "You know I think you're absolutely charming when you pout, or when you get angry. Maybe one day you'll beat me at these silly games of yours, Will." Hannibal pecks Will's forehead, before pulling off the hatchet that rest on his back. Will grumbles something incoherently, as he pulls his own weapon of choice from where it rest at his side. Hannibal smiles down at his lover, and turns towards the mouth of the cave. There is no light ahead of them, only empty darkness which consumes any fleeting shade of light that tries to settle near. Winds howl through and fro of the cave, as it moans with age. "Are you ready?" "You know, every time you ask that you know I have the same answer. Just as I know every time you ask that question, we'll walk into the cave and right in the middle of battle, one of us remember that we forgot a main ingredient in fighting the monster, and it'll take longer than it should." Will's snarky response earns him a chuckle, and a kiss. "Whenever you are ready." "Always." Well, maybe he should have said in a bit, because first we need to retrieve the fire knife from Winston's pouches, because apparently they really needed that to kill the ice bear. And they of course, forgot that they needed it. So right after Hannibal had cut off a couple of  the bears right paws toe, it grew angry and irritated of the two hunters before roaring and chasing them. "I told you we would forget the most important item!" Will yelled, sliding down the icey slopes of the caves. "I know, and I apologies for my mistake." Hannibal answered, ducking from a bloody paw, and jumping over another iceberg. Will tosses back a couple of small nuts from a pouch on his hip, and find wicker when the nuts exploded as they touch the ground. The bear helps, and turns back before chasing them again. And it's right when they exit the cave, does Hannibal have the fire blade in his grasp. The bear rears back on it's back legs, and comes down upon Hannibal with a roar. Will watches as the bear falls on top the blade, and Hannibal. It's white fur engulfs the hunter until he is nothing but a pile of white mass, with blood leaking from the bottom of the fur. Crying out, Will runs over to the pile, and pushes with all his strength for the bears corpse to roll of Hannibal. It doesn't budge. "Han...Hannibal!" Will cried out, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He falls backwards onto his ass, and stares at the pile. "Oh...oh god, Hannibal...I..." His face falls into the cradling hold of his hands, as sobs begin to rack his body. He never expected his lovers life to end like this, always expected them to live long until they died of old age. Or maybe from fighting a dragon or God. But never this, never from am easy to conquer mission. "Why are you crying, Snow White?" A voice questions. Wait, he knows that voice. He's heard that voice for 10 years, each morning he woke and every night hid eyes shut to sleep he's heard that voice. "Hannibal!!" Will cries out, jumping to his feet to tackle the hunter to the ground. "It's amusing how you believe one simple ice bear could be my demise. Silly Snow White, it'd take more than an army to keep me from." Hannibal mused as Will peppered his face with kisses. "I hate you, and that stupid nickname." Will snaps, before melting into the man's arms. "Why would you scare me like that, Huntsmen?" "I did not mean to scare you, love. Come let's take what we need, and rest for the night at an Inn." Hannibal sighs, before hauling the both of them back on there feet. When they get back to town there is high praise for them, and a celebration in order. The townsfolk dance around the ice bears head, which had been skewered onto a steak in the middle of the town. Will stays for about a few minutes, before everyone's cheerfulness and happy-go-lucky looks start to annoy him. Hannibal lingers by, before the women in the town start giving him wandering looks. He smiles and leaves without a word, following Will back to their room. Will is the first to fall on the bed, Hannibal taking longer to remove the armoured sleeve he made for his right arm. The arm in which everyone's eyes linger on with questioning looks, and spread false rumors. Beneath the armour is not burns or an ugly scar from his past, it is however a curse. From the tips of his fingers, which have formed into claws, the his right shoulder the skin is ebony black. So dark it absorbs any fleeting light around it, like a phantom limb it is an apparatus of what once was a human arm. "The wrath of a God is not one to be taking with a grain of sand." Was what Hannibal first told him when Will asked. It wasn't until later in their relationship did Hannibal finally tell him the story of his arm. When he was a child he his family was murdered by monsters, and Hannibal killed the monster in revenge. And ate their corpses. Angry were the God's that a foolish mortal child had killed their children, they cursed Hannibal to be a monster himself. But they did not know that a monster was already growing inside him. Years later when he was older did he fain control over the curse, and was able to hide into a human body with only one remain of what he truly was. When he told Will that he had certain cravings for meat, mainly human, Will handed him a dagger and told him "If it is human you crave, then I am happy to oblige." Hannibal had taken the dagger and tossed to the side, taking Will right where he sat that night. Covering them in diet, snow, and blood. That was then that he found a new way to sate his everyday hunger. "Are you hungry tonight?" Will asked, when Hannibal snaked his way under the shears with him. The man hummed, starting to kiss along Will's neck and chin. "For you, I am always hungry." Hannibal purred, clawed finger runs up Will's chest. Will gasped as his chin was gripped tightly, and his mouth found it was being attacked with Hannibal's own mouth. "My little Snow White." "Annnnnd you I just lost my appetite." Will groaned, pushing away to roll over, having his back face Hannibal. The man behind him began to laugh uproariously, then tried to coax Will back into his arms with sweet words. "You had one chance Hannibal, one chance. And you just threw out the window, well I hope you enjoy the cold side of the bed, because I'm not sleeping with you." "Will, please do not act so childish, you know I would never degraded you to such a false nickname. Please love, come back to bed with me." Hannibal called out as Will pulled his pants back on. Will glared at the man, and fasten the ties. "I have information on where the witch Freddie is currently hiding." "I'm listening." Will said, climbing back into the bed with the hunter, wrapping long warm arms around his waist. Hannibal chuckles a little, and kisses at Will's lovely curls. "I knew that would hook you into coming back." He sighed, trailing fingers through Will's scalp. "Yeah, well don't expect it to happen again." "As you wish." Hannibal all but purrs as his hands start trailing downwards of Will's body. Lips pressing trails against his pale chest, and deep rumbles erupt from his own throat. "As you wish." The next day, Will wakes up sore but more than happier to be awake. After their coupling, Will had been able to extract some sentences about Freddie before both Hannibal and him were able to fall asleep. Now he stands in the room dressed in the clothing he wore yesterday ready to leave, while Hannibal snores into the pillow that his face has drowned itself in. It was times like this when the cursed monster looked more human than what he actually was, his hair wildly tossed about, with red scratch marks that hover actual scars on his body. But this is no time for Will to be gawking over his lover, they have a witch to hunt. Will huffs and starts shaking the man awake. "Yes. Yes. I'm up, I'm up." Hannibal groans, as he practically falls out of the bed, and starts moving around the room like a slug. Will snickers but helps him with his clothes, and his arm cover. The village doesn't even boric their disappearance, but that's also probably because Will woke up at the ass crack of dawn and wanted to leave in a rush. So off they go, again, through the dark woods and down stoney paths to find another monster to kill, or in this case a witch who has ruined Will's reputation. "Where is it that we shall ride today, Hannibal?" Will asked, resting his mare into a pleasing trot. "Riversdale, a quiet little town most recognized for the selkies that live near it, and the few witches who come around for gossip." Hannibal yawns, still trying to rub sleep from his eyes. "Are trying to tell me, we might have to fight more than one witch?" Will smirks, knowing he'll somehow change the fighting into a little game. He feels Hannibal's knowing smirk play out next to him, and soon there both smiling like love sick fools. "Perhaps." He says. "Perhaps." Will grins at this, leaning over to pull Hannibal into a kiss, before letting the man go. But not without a couple more specks to the lips. "You always know how to brighten my mood, don't you love." Will sighs. "Anything for you, my Snow White." Haha, tomorrow is Cinderella, can't wait to see how that goes

#my writing #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibaleverafter

[iwouldliketoshowyouflorence]

Hannibal and Will in Pompeii (draft, needs work, feedback welcome!)

Hannibal is sitting on an ancient Pompeian toilet seat. Trousers on, of course, but he wants to share the perspective.

Facilities where you sat, and shat, next to each other, excuse the language, shit-chatting. Seems very strange now, but it was common in the West up into the Victorian era. Hannibal guesses they didn't get enough fiber, but is still impressed with how humans have always been so social that they somehow solved that without crosswords.

Will is (well, was) a professor. He knows a lot of things, and is used to being an authority.

It also means he likes learning, or he would never have gotten there in the first place. Learning new things like that the ancient Pompeiians kept eels in their atrium pools because they kept the water clean from bugs, parasites and drowned vermin.

He looks into the shallow, square pool, the sharp Italian mid-day light shining down, and wonders how they weren't cooked on the spot.

'The pool is mostly decorative, there is a whole sewer system under here where the eels had their home. The practice was used by Europeans until open wells were no longer the standard. Quite effective.' Hannibal turns slightly, with his back still towards Will, already moving on.

'Well-dwelling eels are known to have became over a hundered years old, when happy.'

'Have you ever fished for eels, Will?'

'No. They're endangered.'

'Who among us isn't?'

Will glares.

'That doesn't negate hunting and fishing rights.' He looks away.' Being rare doesn't exclude us from the ecosystem.'

Hannibal walks slower on the thick, rounded cobbles of the Pompeian streets.

'Tell me, Will, as a fisherman - what fate would you want for the eel? Reproduction in abundance, steady survival, or as they currently are, just precisely making it protected, and left alone?'

'They classify as endangered because of their low numbers, but the population... Eelation is stable. Rare, but less threatened than they used to be.'

...

Will admires the mosaics, and puts down his hands to feel the cracks between the pieces that look like pixels.

He looks up for Hannibal's facial expression, almost as difficult to put together.

'How did they make these?'

Will is on all fours on the floor of one of the preserved villas, examining a mosaic as if it was a crime scene.

Hannibal crouches down, arms loosely crossed.

'With a lot of patience.'

'But why, when they could paint it?' Will gestures vaguely around him across the shining floor and brightly painted walls.

'Oh, frescos weren't easy to make.' Hannibal puts his hand over Will's on the floor, entangling his fingers. 'Nothing that lasts is.'

....

'Phalluses on the street and erotic wall paintings did NOT mean it was a 'bordello'.'

Hannibal raises his eyebrows under his sunhat. 'Young men have playboy posters on their walls - this was no different.'

Will holds back a laugh, knowing no 'young man' has read a playboy since the 80s. '

' So if they weren't very shy, and it was a symbol of happiness and excitement and *wanting* to arrive to a destination, why *not* carve a phallus into the road to signify direction?'

Hannibal is quiet.

'... Because you could just paint an arrow?'

'That was a weapon at the time. In a true 'make love, not war' society, which would you think would have been less disturbing? '

Hannibal squats, touching the stone phallus carved out of the rock.

' You are a psychiatrist, you know noone reads... Playboy any more. They use the internet.'

'I'm aware, I was using it as a colloquial expression.'

The way he looks out over the landscape tells Will that he absolutely thought playboy was still a real thing.

He sniffles, walking up behind Hannibal on the hill to share the view.

...

' It's so big! ' Will's eyes are wide open.

' Yes - it was - is, architechthnoically and archaeologically - a city.'

' I've heard of Pompeii but I assumed it was like... A couple of ruins.'

They are walking down one of the main streets. 'The streets still have names!'

'Which, also, not everyone knows or will remember - but we do.' Hannibal wraps his arm around Will's shoulder.

'Can you hear them? The songs of the city, the people? '

Will closes his eyes, his hand around Hannibal's waist feeling his blood pulse.

' Yes.'