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#hannibal the series
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jay-wasstuff · 21 days
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fieryskies · 1 year
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I love the ugliness of love. Removing love from its socially accepted roots. Love as not a mere source of tragedy and sadness, but as an active corruptive power over those it mystifies. Love as the addiction without cure and the wound forever bleeding. I love seeing the beauty of something so coveted spun on its head.
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gaypoetsblog · 9 months
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Good Omens have managed to wake up the spn, ofmd, wwdits and Hannibal fandom and I am so fucking here for it.
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hannibal lecter + will graham tarot card!
prints will be available soon as figure out my website!
instagram | twitter | art account | pinterest
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primrosedfawn · 4 days
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of humble origins and born of the cursed sex
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yanderebrahms · 1 year
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autism be damned my boy sure can work a grill
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literallyastick · 9 months
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this show has single handedly taken over my life and I'm not even mad
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lovecrime2 · 5 months
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Hannibal Lecter x Reader
summary: you begin therapy with Dr. Lecter, a man who you quickly learn much from. from his intellectuality, to the darkness hidden in the furthest parts of his mind, you become enraptured with him. will he feel the same about you? therapy sessions turn into exchanging books with notes, cooking together, and seeing more of each other in ways you both never thought possible. a love story.
authors note: hello!! this fic will have multiple chapters and i’m so excited to start this! it’s also on a03. and im creating a playlist for this!!
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Chapter I: Prima
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“Dr. Lecter is ready to see you now, miss.” the polite receptionist says, with a smile sent your way. It’s no more than a flash of positivity before she turns back to her paper work, reflected by her thin framed glasses. As her eyes scanned over the work, turning back to frantically look over her desk, presumably searching for something, she gave off an obvious air of worry. Perhaps she was new.
You were too.
Your first day of therapy. Well, your first day of therapy with this new psychiatrist. It wasn’t something you were exactly frantically nervous about- as the poor polite receptionist was. You’d been to therapy before. You were accustomed to the shallow invasion and prodding of the mind. This time, your hope was that this new Dr. Lecter would be unique. Different.
You’d heard many good things about him. Ranging from his written work and studies, to his success with patients. And after the worsening state of your mind and the life you had built around you, you decided that it was time to try again. So far, you weren’t disappointed. The office was classy. Nice chairs were set in the waiting room, where you had sat for some time. There was tasteful art, quiet classical music in the background. Bach, you had guessed. Other than the receptionist, it had emitted an air of class and calmness.
You flashed a smile back at the receptionist, returning the politeness.
“Thank you very much,” you replied.
You weren’t sure if she heard given how diligently she was scanning her desk currently. But it was of no matter, you had been polite, it was the most you could do. You stepped up to a wooden door, unsure if you’d have to knock. Before you could, the door was opened, and Dr. Lecter was revealed to you.
He was handsome. You weren’t one to judge or weigh value off of looks, but you would give him that simple statement. Looks were not the most important thing to you, and you certainly were not meaning it in a romantic way. But he was handsome. The eyes that quickly met yours were brown, maybe with a hint of hazel. His hair was brown as well, it shone in the light from his office. He wore a navy blue plaid suit, giving him an obvious air of seriousness, of class and respect. His lips curled into a smile, and yours followed suit.
“Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he spoke, his voice was rich and soothing.
“Dr. Lecter, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you and your work. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.” you replied calmly, mirroring his niceties and charm. He had a quiet suave demeanor. As if on instinct, you both reached your hands out for a handshake. More niceties. This doctor was very formal. You appreciated that. As your hands touched you felt his eyes scan you quickly. Almost like an eagle searching a field for prey. Though, there wasn’t malice behind this look.
“Please, do come in.” he said, leading you into his large room. And what a large room it was.
It had a mostly grey color palette, with the exception of the one wall which was a dark red. To your right was a large wall, with two large red and white striped curtains. To your left, a desk, obviously a professional one. Lamps and books and art decorated the top. Further back to your left was another desk and a chair, but nothing was on this one. Behind that, a fireplace. The room was lined with cabinets and bookshelves, and art (specifically paintings) were anything but scarce. Right in front of you however, were two chairs facing each other. And there was a ladder, on the wall behind them, leading up to another level of the room. This one was lined with books of all shapes and sizes and colors. You took note of the other items in the room. Your eyes scanned from the couch against the back wall, to the couch in front of the windows. The room seemed lightly dull at first, but the more you gazed, the more points of color stood out to you.
After having visually scoured the room, you summarized that the collection of books, European furniture, and art was not simply the doing of the building’s hypothetical interior designer. By his outfit and the look of the room, Dr. Lecter was a man of intellectuality, power, curiosity, and ambition. He was impressive.
“Have a seat, Miss L/N.” he said, gesturing to the two seats in the middle of the room- each sat directly across from the other. Each had small tables next to them, but one had a book (presumably for taking notes on patients) and a box of tissues. You assumed the seat that the book and tissue box adorned table belonged to: was his. So you took the other seat, smoothing the bottom half of your clothing as you sat down. He took a seat across from you, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap.
“I have no doubt you know why you’re here.” he said politely. He was direct, eyes still piercing into you. You were afraid to look away. You wanted to maintain the eye contact but at the same time, the socially nervous part of you longed to break it, longed to gaze around the sophisticated room instead of facing his perceptive gaze.
“Yes, Doctor.” you replied, finally working up the courage to break the mural stare and look down as you smiled at him. He returned a brief smile, and nodded once.
“So then, I hope you won’t mind if I list off the reasons you put for requesting my psychiatric assistance which led to us meeting today?” he inquired, taking his notebook from the small table next to him.
“Not at all, go ahead.” you gave him an encouraging nod and he opened his book. As he looked over a page, a realization came to you. You realized how intimate the placing of his chairs was. You mirrored him and put one leg over the other. You wondered if this was a tactic of his to create a sense of connection, equality. Interesting.
“You have emotional regulation issues, accompanied by social anxiety. Past traumas, which I’m sure are accompanied by self-image problems, am I correct?” he asked at the end of his statement.
“Yes,” you said, pausing a moment. There was some more, but this was only the first session. You hated the way it sounded so labeled when it was later out like that, so shallow. Realizing your answer might’ve seemed curt, you rushed to say more. “Yes, that’s all correct.”
He set his book down on the side table and looked at you for a moment. The thought crossed your mind that he might be waiting for you to speak, you were about to say something when he spoke at last.
“How do you feel right now, at this very particular moment, Miss L/N?” he asked you, eyes endlessly boring into you.
“I feel,” you hesitated, trying to come up with the right words. “Comfortable and welcomed. Yet nervous.”
“I’m glad you feel comfortable and welcomed, I try to provide sufficient hospitality for those in my care. Though, tell me, why do you feel nervous?” he asked.
“I’ve just met someone new. Someone who will be peering into my mind, learning the most personal parts of me. It’s an odd thought that a man I met a few minutes ago will come to know my mind so deeply.” you replied, watching Hannibal process your answer. He had a good poker face.
“Are you afraid of what I might uncover in the depths of your mind?” he asked.
“I think everyone’s a little afraid of what can be perceived in the most personal parts of their mentality. We all have only so much we express. To the eye it may seem to show enough, but there’s so much hidden where we store our deepest thoughts.” you replied. You liked the knowledgeable banter.
“Knowing those parts of you is a fundamental aspect to your treatment, as it is to any patient. I am not here to judge, or to exploit. I am here to come to know your being and attempt to help it in a way that is beneficial to your mental well-being.” he replied.
“You make a good point, Doctor.” you replied, flashing him a smile. He returned it, and opened his book.
“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked, his eyes still focused on yours.
“Of course.” you replied.
And so began your session with Hannibal Lecter, your new psychiatrist.
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anna-miske · 2 months
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It was about time for a Hannibal rewatch. :-)
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The way this completely embodies the essence of three seasons of pure thrill ♥️
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jay-wasstuff · 1 year
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Can't believe Hugh Dancy invented this angle
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alessiathepirate · 8 months
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Hannibal NBC
THE SIMPLICITY THEY SHOULD HAVE: Will Graham x fem!reader
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Summary: She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. Watching him sit on the floor working on those boat motors was the sight she wanted to see everyday.
Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.
So- I actually looked up an article about boat motors and about how to repair them, so I can describe it in a close-enough way, but in reality I've never seen a single boat motor in my life. So if it isn't desribed like it should be described - I'm sorry.
Warnings: references to Will's work, but surprisingly nothing more
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She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. The things that made him relaxed, but entertained in a good way.
It didn't only give Will a peace of mind, it also made her feel a certain kind of calmness and safety she's never felt when Will was out working on a case, trying to get into people's minds.
Watching him sit on the floor working on those boat motors as the muscles around his eyes and mouth tensed up from concentration was the sight she wanted to see everyday. When he isn't thinking about anything gruesome, when he isn't scared of nightmares or for her safety, when he is home doing what he likes with all his dogs around him being lazy - that was the sight she liked, those were the happiest moments she had about Will.
It felt domestic. It felt normal.
It felt like something they should have everyday.
The simplicity of it was the thing what made it so special - because otherwise nothing about their relationship was simple.
She was lying on her stomach in their shared bed, keeping herself up on her elbows. She was supposed to be reading, so she can finally finish the book she has started months ago but couldn't find the time to finish because of all the crazy, abnormal things that had been going on. This was the only normal evening they've had in months, the only truly relaxing one, yet the book isn't the real entertainment.
Will on the other hand certainly is.
"It's not very nice to stare."
His voice is truly entertaining too, especially when it's calm, relaxed and slightly teasing.
"I never said I'm a nice person." she said, not even trying to hide her smile.
"Really? I thought I'm dating a nice person." he didn't look up from his work, his hands were still moving the screwdriver he was holding, trying to get a stuck screw out.
"I can be nice." she started, feeling her heart flutter as she noticed how Will's curls were messier than usual - God, he looked cute. "Just not when I have such a handsome boyfriend to look at."
That made Will look up, finding her gaze and making eye contact, abandoning his work for a while. She almost giggled at how his cheeks turned into a slight pink shade at her compliment. She rarely saw Will blush, very rarely.
"Such a charmer."
"I try my best." she smirked. " 'Everything alright with the motor?"
"Yeah, the screw's stuck but it'll be fine." he looked down at the boat motor, then back at her. "So, you abandoned the book again."
"Yes." she answered shortly and then continued: "I found something much more entertaining."
"That's a very nice book." Will voice carried a teasing edge.
"Yeah, well I just decided to enjoy the moment." she lost the smirk and the teasing, and used a sincere smile and honesty instead. "We rarely have a calm evening these days. I'd rather spend it watch- admiring you and talking to you, than look at words my mind can't comprehend right now anyway."
Will lost the smirk too and the small, happy smile he sent her way was truly the cutest thing she's seen him do so far. It wasn't anything big, sure. It wasn't a surprise date, it wasn't a gift she wouldn't need anyway - it was something she really wanted to see: a honest smile. A smile what told her everything and a smile what didn't hold anything back. He was comfortable, well rested and happy - the only thing she wanted.
"Come here." he said those two words softly, there was nothing rude or demanding about it.
She got off the bed and walked toward him. When he patted the floor next to where he was sitting, she understood what he wanted. She sat down next to him and crossed her legs.
"Would you like to help me?"
It was rare that he asked for help - no matter the context.
He trusted her, he loved her - she was sure of that. For a second she was too scared to open her mouth and speak, not wanting to ruin the softness of the moment.
"Of course." she swallowed; she was unable to hold back a smile. "What are we doing?"
"We'll try to remove the propeller so we can replace it with a new one. Then we'll try to find out why the battery is dead and if the spark plug needs to be changed." he explained it slowly and patiently, taking a look at her face here and there, making sure she understands what he's saying. "Sounds good?"
"Yeah. How can I help?"
"If you could get this screw out so we can take the propeller off, that'd be awesome."
"I can try."
She took the screwdriver from him as he turned the boat motor towards her so she can get to work. The first time tried to remove it the screw didn't move at all. That's why the second time she tried it she used more force - and to her surprise the screw moved.
She looked up at Will for a second with a grin. "It looks like that's something only women can do."
"Right. Thanks." she could hear that he was smiling, his pride wasn't hurt like any other man's would be.
"What now?" she asked as she took off the propeller.
"Now we'll take a look at the spark plug..."
And Will started to explain everything. He told her how to take the spark plug out, he explained what the most common problems are that can kill the battery in seconds. He spoke and then let her do the work, praising her when she did something right and chuckling when she messed something up. He corrected her and then watched her work with a smile.
She had a feeling that he likes to explain it to her, he likes the thought that he can teach her something new what isn't criminal profiling or basic self defense stuff.
By the time the motor was taken apart her fingers felt numb and she felt herself getting tired. Will must've felt it too, because he took the wrench she had in her hand.
"Is that all?" she asked.
"No, but I think for today you've done enough."
"Enough good stuff?"
"You've done a wonderful job with this for a rookie." Will's smile was genuine - so was hers.
"Yeah, no surprise you're a teacher. You can explain how everything works really well." she rested her head on his shoulder and even if Will tensed up a little from the sudden affection, he didn't push her away - he pressed a soft, barely even a real kiss to the top of her head.
"I think you should go ahead and lie down. I'll join you in a second."
"No. I'll wait here with you."
And she waited.
She waited until he put the new propeller on. She watched as he checked on the oil. She watched as he started to clean up the mess - putting different tools into the toolbox and cleaning the floor with the rag he had close by.
At some point they changed their position. Maybe it was because of Will moving and turning while trying to not move to far away from her - she didn't know for sure. But she was hugging his shoulders from behind while she rested her chin in the crook of his neck and her legs were wrapped around his waist.
It was a comfortable position for her - and must have been a pretty uncomfortable one for Will.
But he didn't complain. Sometimes he brushed his hand along her shin or knee, or took one of her hands and held it. And it was Heaven.
She couldn't really believe in anything good in this world, not after she saw what the world is like and how bad it actually is. She saw it all through Will's work and night terrors - but one thing was for sure, in that moment she felt like they were both in Heaven. They were home, they were close, the dogs were lazily lying on the rug around them.
It felt safe.
It felt normal.
It felt nice.
"Sweetheart?" she was half asleep when Will finally spoke up, his voice wasn't more than a whisper.
"Yeah?"
"Let's go to bed, okay?"
"Sure." she answered, but stayed still for a moment. "Will?"
He hummed and she felt the noise go through his whole body.
"I like these evenings. The calm ones."
Will didn't say anything. He didn't have to. She knew he felt the same way. She knew it because he took her hand and pressed a kiss on it. She knew it because he carried her to bed. She knew it because that night he didn't wake up from a night terror.
She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. But she liked it more when he slept calmly.
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am-i-jojo · 1 year
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I know, I'm late to the party.
It took me 4 years and 3 different attempts to finally watch this series and i do not regret doing it.
Love it.
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the fbi came to me and told me to design their wanted poster (real.)
prints will be available soon as figure out my website!
instagram | twitter | art account | pinterest
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