#yet i still desperately want to be loved.. just like Hannibal..

[calmcoldevening]

Hiii I love your writing could I maybe request some slashers with a s/o who has insomnia

(Add rz Michael and Bubba please

You can add other slashers to)

Oh kitten, thank you for your request ♡︎ I hope it could make you feel better and help to sleep. These boys are all for you

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Slashers with s/o who has insomnia

Characters: Michael Myers (RZ), Bubba Sawyer, Hannibal Lecter, Mark Hoffman

Warnings: mention of cannibalism (just a little, because it's Bubba), insomnia, just problems with sleep, but I tried to make it hurt/comfort

Ps: English is not my native language, so sorry for misspells

Michael Myers

• Expressing emotions towards another person is clearly not Michael's strong point. But when it comes to you... It's something else.

• At first, he didn't pay much attention to your condition, or rather, he just didn't know yet that such apathy and nervousness is something bad. Michael just thought he wasn't used to you yet.

• But still something made him think about it.

• As soon as Michael got used to physical contact, he literally began to feel a hunger for touch. He wanted to touch you, hug you and just feel your tender skin on his rough one. A man slept with you. When he was sure that you were deep asleep and would not notice it, he pressed his huge body against yours like a frightened kitten. He was desperately clutching the fabric of your pajamas, sinking into a restless sleep.

• But that has changed now. You went to bed late, if you went to bed at all, and sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night. Now Michael was falling asleep without your little figure next to him. It was like this.. alien and unpleasant.

• It seemed eerily wrong. You spent less time with him and seemed to be flying in your thoughts all the time, although in fact your body was just trying not to switch off due to lack of sleep. Michael became more aggressive and killed his victims with greater brutality.

• But as soon as the usual veil of anger fell away, and his pitch-black eyes turned soft blue again, Michael noticed in your gaze.. sadness? despair? His heart squeezed a little. Then he really thought about your condition. It probably happened a month after your days became more frequent with insomnia. And he really didn't know what to do.

• But Michael is a smart boy, he found a way out. How easy it was to watch old Loomis for a few days, who, probably because of his work, often experienced insomnia. How to solve this problem? Michael watched the man through the window. Pills? Michael hates pills, and he doesn't want you to become addicted to them in any way. Doctor's visit? Michael wouldn't really want you to have contact with another person, especially if it's a man. Just thinking about it made Michael's heart ache.

• But how does he cope with stress himself? Now he takes out all his accumulated anger and emotions in murders. A knife in his hand and someone else's blood on it cause a man a pleasant wave of trembling. But you can't kill. No, he will never allow you, his fragile flower, to get your soft, tender hands in someone else's vile blood and flesh.

• Although as a child, when he was sad or bad, Michael ate candy... Indeed, sweets. Perhaps it is sweets that will help you cope with stress. It seems that chocolate causes the production of serotonin?

• You were sitting in the bedroom and reading a book, or rather, trying to. Everything was in a fog in my head, and the letters occasionally floated before my eyes, but as soon as your head touched the pillow, drowsiness immediately disappeared, as if it had never existed. Flipping through the next page, you look up and notice the giant figure of your boyfriend in the doorway. Surprisingly, he is wearing his still clean overalls and an orange papier-mache mask. Dirty blonde hair falls gracefully over his broad shoulders. You can't read his stoic expression, but you can see him hiding something behind his back. When you finally pay attention to him, Michael starts walking slowly in your direction. He climbs onto the bed, the mattress will crumple under his weight. Next to your side, he puts a bag with a lot of sweets, and he grabs your legs and climbs between them. The man gently squeezes your hips and puts his head on your lower abdomen, gently rubbing his nose against your skin through your clothes. Like a kitten. Michael was not a fan of soulful conversations, so he preferred actions and touches. You glance briefly at the package and notice inside, in addition to sweets, a small note. Clumsy and a little sloppy, as if written in a child's handwriting: "Hug me if you can't sleep. I'm near."You smile, and your heartbeat quickens. You gently touch Michael's tangled hair with your fingers, starting to slowly stroke them. It's relaxing. I could swear that a long purr is coming from the chest of this giant.

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba started to worry a lot when he found out about your insomnia. He begins to take care of you and shield you from stress in every possible way.

• When the Sawyers need to deal with uninvited guests, you are usually sent for a short walk with one of the brothers so that you don't worry about strong screams. Or you're just out in the backyard enjoying a warm Texas day.

• Bubba gives you a lot of hugs. Very much. At night, he does not let you out of his arms, fearing that something might happen to you. He is very attentive. A man always makes sure that when you go to bed, the room is cool and dark, and the sheets are soft and pleasant to sleep on.

• Before going to bed, you definitely take a walk in the garden. Even if he is tired, Bubba will still sit with you on the grass, admiring the stars and gently squeezing your little neat hand. He values you very much.

• Bubba will also try to give you lighter food. No hard-to-digest human meat and barbecue, just fruits and vegetables.

• By nature a gentle and simple person, Bubba will give you a mug of warm milk before going to bed. They always gave it to him when he was little, and he fell asleep quickly.

• When the two of you go to bed, Bubba cuddles you to her, making soothing sounds and mumbling like a lost puppy. He clings to you and tries to show you all his love and comfort.

• Bubba has big and strong hands. So in the evenings, about two or three times a week, he gives you a relaxing massage. Trust me, he does it like a real professional. These hardened by long years of hard work can do a lot.

• Bubba will try to talk about your problem with Drayton. Bubba really wants to help you. Even if it means you have to leave him. Bubba will try to persuade Drayton to take you to the city to see a doctor. He loves you so much, his sunshine, the man doesn't want you to suffer.

Hannibal Lecter

• You periodically had trouble sleeping, but you didn't want to bother the Lecturer with this. After all, he has enough problems of his own, besides, he is a psychiatrist and deals with the problems of his patients, he does not need to worry about you once again.

• So you thought when another sleepless night came.

• You were quietly sitting on the windowsill in the bedroom and listening to music. Hannibal, as always, lingered in the office, so you were completely immersed in your thoughts. The light melody somehow reduced the unpleasant heaviness of your head. It seems that you wanted to sleep, but at the same time, your brain did not want to turn off in any way. There was a strange emptiness inside.

• Being in your thoughts, you didn't notice how a big but gentle hand touched your shoulder. Lifting your head up, your eyes instantly met his — bottomless and dark, like thick blood. The man's eyebrows moved slightly to the bridge of his nose, and he gave you a quick glance from the bottom up.

• "Why aren't you sleeping?" His gaze slid to his wristwatch, "It's one o'clock in the morning, dear."

• The answer was only your empty, uncertain look. The man instantly connected the dots, sighing heavily. "Insomnia?" A slight nod. Hannibal gently touches your chin with his fingers, stroking the skin and leaning his forehead against yours. "You should have told me earlier, honey. I'm a psychiatrist."

• After a couple of minutes, your tired body was already peacefully resting in Hannibal's arms. He carried you to the bathroom, sitting you on the edge of the tub and slowly starting to draw hot water. The man added a little lavender oil and a nice soft bubble bath. As soon as your body touched the cherished warmth, a blissful sigh escaped from your chest. A smile touched Hannibal's lips.

• "That's it dear. Close those beautiful eyes of yours," he almost sang in his sweet, slightly hoarse voice as he sat down on the side of the tub. He rolled up his sleeves and took some shampoo, starting to wash your hair. His movements are precise, gentle, soothing. Your eyes slowly close, as if filled with lead, and your heart begins to beat in a calmer rhythm. It was so sweet of him. This man knows exactly what he's doing. A little later, he massages your shoulders and neck, relaxing the muscles tense after long sleepless nights. The subtle scent of lavender and his firm hands created a pleasant duet in your mind, starting to slowly put you to sleep. It's as if in one moment all that stress disappeared from your soul, being replaced by a clear lack of sleep.

• "That's it, honey. Let me take care of my love."

• After a while, Hannibal will help you get out of the bath and put on clean pajamas consisting of your favorite shorts and his loose shirt. He knows that his things make you feel comfortable and safe.

• Under his careful guidance, you will slowly return to bed. Cool sheets on your hot skin after a bath now seem like a real paradise. Sleep begins to slowly take over your mind as Hannibal's arms gently wrap around your smaller body.

• "Sweet dreams, darling."

Mark Hoffman

• Mark knew well what it meant to have trouble sleeping. Because of all his work and the Designer, he was often stressed and could not sleep peacefully.

• So when he noticed you had insomnia, it really started to worry him. Not to say that Mark was a very gentle and kind partner, but he tries. Therefore, first of all, Mark will certainly take you to the doctor and use any possible method of treating your insomnia, no matter if it is a special massage or medications.

• In addition, Mark knows that, first of all, insomnia occurs against a background of great stress and excitement. Therefore, he will try to give you maximum support. A man will try to do most of the housework, not allowing you not to overwork. He will do his best to give you support, both physical and emotional.

• Every evening certainly ends with a warm hug. You know, in his big hands you will really feel loved and safe. You can sit in the living room and watch some quiet movie. Or you will just lie together in the bedroom: there is a subdued light around, the moon shines softly through the window, gently tracing his rough features with a milky white light; you lie wrapped in a soft blanket in his arms, Mark's head rests on top of your head. You can talk about the past day or just be silent, enjoying each other's company. After a while, he will begin to gently hum some kind of lullaby, from which you will wearily close your eyes. In his hands, you have nothing to worry about. He will always be with you, no matter what.

• "I promise you that it's going to be okay, we will get through this together."

• Often your evenings can end with a mug of hot herbal tea. Warm drinks are always soothing, so he can try.

• You may notice one more detail. When you try to fall asleep with him, he deliberately presses you closer to him. His shirt smells like lavender. The delicate scent of the flower pleasantly tickles your nose, causing a smile. Surprisingly, your brain calms down, you begin to feel sleepy. Mark specially bought a new lavender laundry conditioner, knowing that it could help you calm down.

• Every day he will constantly remind you how important you are to him. If he leaves for work before you, he leaves different stickers with inscriptions all over the house. On the refrigerator, on the bathroom mirror, on the bedside table. "It's not your fault you have insomnia, baby. You're important to me. I love you very much. You're doing enough. I'm proud of you." While at work, he often sends you cute messages and pictures. And although he himself is not strong in such things as romance, the fact that he sees your smile encourages him to try even harder.

• Mark buys you big stuffed animals so you have someone to cuddle with while he's at work. There are also lots of milkshakes in the fridge now, and there are different teas in the cupboard to help you relax. And although he tries not to give you a lot of sweets, he buys your favorite fruits and nuts to adjust your nutrition.

• He really cares and cares about you. Mark will try to do everything in his power to help you, dear.

#slashers x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers rz #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #mark hoffman saw #mark hoffman x reader #leatherface x reader #x reader

[suchawrathfullamb]

Help me understand the situation if u don't mind , u said the fall was not romantic right I'm saying the same , he knew he couldn't go back because he was literally forced again in a situation where he couldn't have anyone other than Hannibal, I am queer myself so I don't know what heteronormativity u talking about. I saw the gallery scene after Ur post but weren't they talking about just killing each other , I always read an analysis from early 2015s that support my claim . All I see is Will forced in situations where he has no one left other than Hannibal. I am really trying to see that " dark romance " but all I see is one man's desperate attempt to stay sane . I mean Will married Molly , and was happy with her , bored maybe but happy(not my words I read a meta about it ) he didn't even visit Hannibal for 3 years u know, and after the dragon attack to his family his first instinct was to kill Hannibal , so I am struggling to see any reciprocation from his side.

Heteronormativity has nothing to do with being queer or not. If you don't know what that is, research it, I'm not obligated to educate you. But it is something that everyone who grew up on our society falls under, it's inevitable until you actually unlearn that behavior.

The gallery scene talking about killing each other? How on Earth is that interpreted this way? Saying you read a meta means nothing in terms of being canon or not, unless the creator of the show wrote it.

Will had "no other option"? Who obligated him to stalk Hannibal and his whole life history in Europe? Who obligated him to speak to Hannibal after 3 years? Who obligated him to execute a escape plan?

Will had plenty of options, but chose Hannibal instead.

It is canon he was far from happy with Molly, he states that when Hannibal suggests the Dragon was targeting his family and he cackles and says "of course not", after figuring out that the Dragon targets happy families. He also very much left them to die, as Hannibal stated himself. He had all the reasons to believe they could be in danger but chose to ignore and leave them unprotected. He doesn't say I love you back to his wife, and the show's direction made sure we saw zero affection from Will to her, to depict the distance he had.

You said we can't "water down" the relationship in your other ask, yet you yourself did it in this one by saying he's "just a man trying desperately to stay sane". How is it just that? How is he so desperate to stay sane yet keeps WILLINGLY choosing to go with Hannibal?

How do you interpret Will talking to himself through Abigail's "ghost"? "Still want to go with him?" "yes", "we were supposed to leave together", "god knows where I'd be without him"??

How is he staying sane by continuously avoiding to just end Hannibal the multiple times he had the chance? If this isn't about THEM but just about "a man desperate to stay sane", then why on Earth does he keep going after Hannibal, saving him, stalking his whole life, obsessing over him, going back to him no matter what? If it was "just a man trying desperately to stay sane" the show could've ended in Season 2 after Will and Jack trapped him. Why did he call Hannibal and saved him?

What does Will's sanity have to do with him wanting to run away with Hannibal?? *he stated that, just saying cause it seems you are forgetting scenes.

Anyway, you asked if the fandom would accept you not shipping them but seems like you're not accepting that we ship them and it's canon 🤷🏻‍♀️.

#ask the lamb #this is hilarious to me #baffled #hannigram #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #hugh dancy #hannibal lecter #mads mikkelsen

[ghostdrinkssoup]

thinking about abigail’s character again and I think the way point of view is handled in nbc hannibal is really interesting when you’re trying to understand her character, since a lot of what we see is filtered through either will’s misplaced attachment to her or hannibal’s projections. it’s hard to see abigail’s true self and/or nature because half of what we see is unreliable. like, will refuses to think she was the bait and so we, the audience, also believe this to be true, even though when it’s revealed she actually was the bait it makes all the sense in the world. but it’s still shocking to us because our perception of her is warped as a consequence of being in will’s pov most of the time. not only that, but the nature of this reveal is arguably softened later on when will dreams he’s teaching abigail how to fish in s2a, and literally names his bait after her because of how much he “cherishes” her

all of this is to say in a show that’s all about identity and revealing (and understanding) the self, and the grotesque connection between will and hannibal, who are understood by no one but each other, abigail’s character is super interesting as a means to explore the layers of how people falsely perceive us. she’s complex because she’s not the innocent person will (or alana for that matter) perceives her to be, but she’s also not the ruthless murderer that hannibal (or again, jack) hopes she is. she’s just a traumatised kid who was raised by a psychopathic cannibal. not only that, but she’s the unwilling victim of both her surrogate father’s projections. first will, who projects his need for comfort, family, and acceptance onto her, as well as the hope that his morality is still intact, all factors which are complicated when he confuses his sense of self with the identity of garret jacob hobbs. and evidently by murdering him, and leaving abigail orphaned, feelings of shame and guilt also influence the nature of his projections. but then you have hannibal, who projects his attachment to mischa onto her, as well as his grief. and like will, this is all complicated by his own human need for comfort, family, and acceptance

but if you peel all that away, and get to the core of it, the key similarity between will and hannibal’s projections is a want for acceptance, and then forgiveness, which, as we see in s3, is synonymous to love. essentially, these are two characters who are undoubtedly monstrous, yet retain their humanity due to that universal longing to love and be loved, in whatever twisted form they are capable

I mean, the whole concept of the murder family is so sad because I think it reveals how damaged both will and hannibal are, beyond the show’s literal gothic horror. cannibalism, bloodshed, manipulation, playing the devil, grotesque thoughts and fantasies concerning murder, etc are all obvious reasons why these characters are fucked up mentally, but that’s also a consequence of the genre. to me, the true horror of the show is very much embedded in the psychological, and how will and hannibal are so lonely and isolated that they would wish to have this family circle “in some other world” because they thought they’d found someone who also understood them, someone they could nurture and take care of. but, as we know, this is all an illusion. will repeatedly says he thinks he’d make a good father, but he’s self-destructive and so is hannibal, and so it’s no wonder abigail dies the way that she does. she never had a chance with them. if anything, if she represents the self we project onto others, a fantasy standing in the way of the truth of our natures, which is shaped by human frailty, then her death is also the death of these idealistic delusions. it’s why in s3a, when will is still desperately trying to hold onto her, she’s nothing more than a ghost. and it’s why when he finally accepts this he goes to hannibal’s childhood estate, because, as he tells him when they reunite in the gallery, “I wanted to understand you, before I laid eyes on you again. I needed it to be clear, what I was seeing”

#ooo I didn’t mean for this to be another meta post but hello !! these are my abigail thoughts #will was delusional and mentally ill from s1 and abigail’s whole character exposes that #at first I kinda wished she was more developed? but then I thought about it again #and I think her lack of development is actually super effective in showing how little anyone really sees her #we’re barely ever afforded her pov #arguably the person who saw her most clearly is freddie lounds #is that a controversial take? I think it’s true though #freddie lounds was the least delusional character in the show #she knew what was up from day 1 #anyway abigail is tragic as hell is my conclusion #hannibal #nbc hannibal #will graham #abigail hobbs #murder family #hannigram #hannibal meta #long post #ghost speaks

[rebelliousstories]

December

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Will Graham x Reader

Fandom: Hannibal (NBC)

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Threats made towards Jack Crawford, Brief Strong Language

Word Count: 1,900

Masterlist: Here

Summary: Hell hath no fury like a woman wanting to have some time off with her lover.

A rare rainy day was upon Virginia. During the winter months, they typically did not get much rain, so this was a welcome change. But, there was not any chance for a certain woman to enjoy the weather. On the phone with her lover, who was currently stuck at work, she was lamenting the news he just broke to her.

“What do you mean you’re not going to be home till late?” She asked, working herself around the kitchen so that she could lean against the counter. The dogs at her feet looked up at her distress.

“I’m sorry, honey. But Jack says they need me.” Will explained, feeling the exhaustion creep up in his voice. He sat at his desk, with files and papers strewn about.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Will. I expected you home hours ago. You said you were just going in for an hour or two.” Her desperation was thick over the phone; she couldn’t hide it well. All day she had been preparing food, and making sure that everything was going to be okay for when her partner got home in the afternoon.

“It’s out of my control. I’m sorry. I’ll pick you up those chocolates you love on the way home, okay? And I’ll ask Jack for all of tomorrow off as well.” His glasses were pushed away in favor of rubbing his eyes beneath. Will had been staring at these photos all day that now his eyes were straining.

“You don’t even know if you’ll have tomorrow off? Seriously, Will?” She let out a deep sigh, and set the spoon down that she was using for cooking. Her hand came up to rub her temples, before she continued.

“Just… just home safe please?” Her plea nearly brought Will to his knees. It sounded so soft and sad compared to the fury in her voice when he broke the news to her.

“I will, honey. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home. Love you.”

“I love you too.”They said their goodbyes, and disconnected the call. Will sat at the desk that he had occupied for far longer than he wanted to and thought about the day he had. He was supposed to be gone by about 10:00 AM this morning, at the very latest. Yet here he sat, 3:00 PM, on his day off, at work. All he wanted was to be at home, with his lover and dogs. But Jack would not release him. He kept finding new ways to keep the man there. Will threw his head back with a sigh before he hoped back to work. Maybe if he was able to finish this by the time Jack came over with more work, he could go home.

Meanwhile, his love was still in the kitchen, not paying attention to the food she was prepping for dinner. Now, all she could think about was Will not being home for the day. They were supposed to be making dinner together. Will loved making the fish that he caught whenever he caught a good enough piece. Yet here she was, alone. A paw came up and hit her on her thigh. Winston was checking in on his mom, and she was thankful. The newest pup had really taken a shine to the couple, and they loved having him there with them. He whined and nuzzled where her hand laid limp at her side. She started petting him as she thought. If he was not going to be home for Christmas Eve or, heaven forbidden, Christmas Day, she was going to make the most of her efforts. She leaned down and placed a kiss on Winston’s head, before slipping on her shoes and grabbing her keys.

The drive to the headquarters was largely uneventful. Or rather, she just did not register the drive. Her mind raced as she thought about all the things she wished to say to Will’s boss. She did not realize that she had pulled up to the building, until she was standing in front of it. Making her way into the FBI headquarters, she got her visitor pass and went to find Will. Before she could, Jack Crawford found her first.

“Excuse me, can I help you miss? There’s no press authorized for today.” He said, walking up to her as she continued to look around for Will.

“I’m not press. I’m here for Will Graham. Do you know where he is?” She asked, looking towards the man expectantly. Jack still looked confused.

“Do you have a name? Will didn’t mention anyone coming to visit him.” She was beginning to get fed up with the man.

“Look, I just need to bring him home. So could you please-”

“Honey?” A quiet voice questioned softly, stepping from around the corner into view. Will stood with a confused look on his face as he beheld his girlfriend standing in the middle of the FBI headquarters. Her visitor pass hung from her coat collar, and it swished with her as she turned to face the man.

“Will! Baby, oh thank goodness.” The woman made her way closer to the man while he was still a little dazed and confused.

“Come on. We’re going home. Get your things, my love.” She whispered to him, patting his cheek with a gloved hand. That seemed to snap him out of his trance, as he nodded slowly, but blinked rapidly. He went to collect his things, which did not make some people happy.

“Excuse me! What do you think you’re doing?” Jack’s booming voice called out. It made Will stop what he was doing at his desk, but she did not skip a beat.

“I’m taking my boyfriend home for Christmas. Is there an issue?” She asked, turning to face the man once more.

“Yes there is,” he put his hands on his hips, “Will is needed for today, and tomorrow. This is work. We don’t just get to stop what we’re doing because it’s a holiday.” He stated as if it was the most simple thing in the world. Will halted getting anymore of his things as he listened to Jack talk. He knew the man was right; they might be federal employees, and this might be a federal holiday, but serial killers do not take a Christmas break.

“Do you have an active case going on?” His lover asked, turning to the man. Jack stared at her with a ridiculous expression, as Will waited with, like the rest of the office, baited breath.

“Well no but-”

“Then,” she cut him off, “seeing as this is a federal holiday, and you are federal employees, I’m taking him home for a much needed day off.” Jack sputtered as he looked at the bak of the woman walking back over to her lover. With hushed voices, she helped him gather his things, and they began to leave.

“You can’t just leave, Will!” The couple stopped in their tracks. She took a deep breath in and felt Will’s hand rubbing against her own. Before he could stop her, she turned on her heel back into the office. He tried to go after her, but she had cleared the floor in the same time it took him to take two steps.

“Listen here, Crawford. I don’t I’ve a damn. You don’t have an active case going on, and you don’t have any substantial reason to keep Will here, late, on Christmas Eve. Just because you don’t want to go home tonight for whatever reason doesn’t not mean that everyone else has to suffer. Now I’m taking him home. He’s been exhausted for weeks, and Will just needs a damn break. So, merry Christmas and happy new year’s. He’ll see you Monday. But I swear, if you try to keep him here any longer than I am gonna unleash hell upon you and this agency.” Sparing no more glances towards the man, she grabbed her lover and walked as fast as she could to the elevator. No one said or did anything as they left, which was a relief to her.

They left in silence, only listening to the sound of each other’s breath. The frosty air flushed both of their cheeks while they walked outside. Will began to make his way to his car, but she just kept a tight hold of his hand and walked to her own. The silence in the car was not as tense as they thought it was going to be.

“Are you okay?” She asked, turning the ignition on to start the car.

“You just chewed out my superior and stole me away from work, and you’re asking if I’m okay?” He looked over to his lover as she drove in the rapidly dimming street. She let out a deep sigh, and briefly glanced over at him.

“I’m sorry, baby. But I just couldn’t stand it. You’re meant to have today and tomorrow off anyways, and he wanted to keep you there like a mule. I’m sorry if I got you in trouble, Will.” The drive out to their home was long, but the trees and snow made it a pleasant ride.

“It’s alright. I’ve never seen anybody stand up to Jack like that, so that was interesting. Thank you for coming to get me.” He reached across and grabbed her hand that rested on the center console. She took their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of his.

“You’re welcome, Will. That’s what I’m here for. To tell the waiter that you wanted no onion when he brings you’re burger and you insist on eating it anyways.” She chuckled as Will groaned.

“That was one time, when we were still early into dating. I didn’t want to be that guy.” The chuckle he let out showed that he was also fond of the memory, much more than he let on.

“But that’s my job, Will. That’s what I’m here for. To drag your butt out of that god forsaken place, and home in time for Christmas Eve dinner with our family of four leggeds.” The man chuckled as they neared the house. As they pulled up, he could hear the dogs going crazy inside. He knew that he was going to be tackled the second they were let out.

“Well, thank you, honey.” As he thought, dogs swarmed his feet when the front door was opened. He eagerly greeted all of them individually. Going inside the warm house, the dogs followed and took their places all around the living room. Will pulled his partner to him by her waist, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Thank you. Again.” He mumbled against her lips, kissing her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss she was bestowed.

“You’re welcome, baby.” She whispered, coming up for air.

“Now,” Will started, causing her to open her eyes, “what am I going to do about my car that is stuck at the FBI headquarters?” She laughed as she separated from her boyfriend, and made her way to the stove to check on the food she left.

“Guess that’s a Monday you problem.” He laughed and went to change into comfy clothes. This was not how he envisioned spending the day of Christmas Eve, but the night certainly made up for the hell at work.

#rebelliousstories #writing #will graham x reader #will graham x you #will graham #hannibal imagine #hannibal #25 days of ficmas #25 days of christmas #will graham imagine #will graham fanfiction

[wanderingblindly]

May I please have the directors cut for « choking on greatness » 🥰

omg YES!! This is actually one of the few fics that I can reread without picking it to death, so !!!!!!! I didn't expect anyone to ask about this one, but also you're an enigma so... thank you leaf!!

Hiding most of this below the cut due to discussions of cannibalism, blood, general body horror, etc.

The Origins

This fic was built on the foundations of a mild fever, Ethel Cains's Strangers on loop 300 times, and 3+ showers a day in the dark. So wish I was kidding about that.

But basically, whilst boiling myself alive in the shower, listening to a song about cannibalism (as you do when you're sick), I started like... picking apart all the different inflections and interpretations around the lyric:

Am I making you feel sick?

From there I started hyperfixating on the different interpretations of cannibalism, generally. In the song, the lyric could be aggressive (I hope I'm making you feel sick), it could be somehow still caring (regret at making him ill), or it could be more metaphorical (has the act of it made you sick).

Somewhere along the lines, about 100 song repetitions in, my mind slide towards Hannibal: consumption as a form of love, but also murder as a form of becoming.

Finally, while laying on the floor, I wondered: could a driver ever be desperate enough to want to Consume in order to Become? During the next shower, I thought of this line almost exactly:

It doesn’t taste like victory.  Or maybe Charles just doesn't know what that tastes like anymore, maybe he’s forcing his body to remember the feeling. Maybe victory has always felt like death sliding down his throat, maybe it’s always sat in his stomach like poison, maybe it was always laced with fear and metal and desperation. 

So that came first!

Then, during another shower, I started envisioning the entire thing filling up with blood. So. That scene came second.

My Favorite Bits, In Reflection

I don't remember actually writing this fic. However, my favorite bits, upon rereading, are:

He looks angelic, some personification of greatness. Like if he were standing an inch closer to the heavens, he’d show his wings – a god of victory.

Knowing what comes next, I enjoy the moments where Charles uses exalting yet dehumanizing language to describe Max. In a way, it kind of makes the future delusions of cannibalism a bit more of a holy experience, trying to consume the body of God as opposed to the flesh of man.

“I’m the winner,” Charles bites back, all vowels as he speaks around his red fingers, vomit and saliva and Max dripping down his wrist as he heaves it up again.  “You’re not me.” “I am.”  The blood must be dripping from the ceiling downstairs, greatness slipping through the floorboards of his apartment.  He spits it up again, Max pushing past his fingers and falling pathetically into the split of his abdomen. 

There are a few things I really loved about this. First of all, I enjoy the odd disconnect between the blood still being a source of Max's greatness, but not being enough. It's still him, but it's not referred to as "Max" like his flesh is. There's a distinction between the two, to Charles, as if swallowing down the flesh is more significant than the blood, as if Max's appearance is more important than what's inside him -- it drives home the superficial way that Charles view victory.

“Give up.” “N–” He tries to protest, cut off by another wave of vomit. Because he’s not built for it, after all – greatness. Max’s greatness, the best there ever was. His body won’t take it, spills it into the sink again and again and he reaches for it again and again and shoves it down again and again and –

I recall telling the poor, suffering souls on discord that I wanted to contrast the idea that like... Charles thinks he can't swallow because his body is fundamentally flawed, intrinsically unable to withstand whatever Thing makes Max a winner. But the viewer knows that it's just his body rejecting the most inhumane act: consuming another person.

Charles is fighting against his biology, but not for the reason he believes -- and maybe, in some way, it's his subconscious mind trying to protect him from the fact that he's helpless. He's tried all that he can, so its hyperfixating on something that can never be.

Last Minute Changes

According to my editing history, the fic almost started with the shower scene. Maybe that's because it's the first one I thought of? I'm pretty sure I changed it because I realized I wanted to create the "is this all in Charles's head?" dynamic right off the bat, and set up a slightly more "normal" Charles to highlight his descent into full delusion.

So yeah, the entire """""relationship""""" was entirely secondary to my understanding of this fic. Which I feel like may be obvious?

The very last scene I added was the small moment with Charles answering the question: "Who are you closest friends on the grid?". I wanted one true, concrete hint that the Max the reader had seen was not real, he only existed in the confines of Charles's apartment.

HANNIBAL REFERENCES

God I fucking love this show.

Originally, Charles didn't gut Max in the kitchen -- it just ended with him throwing up into the sink/that whole conversation. Then I realized I could make it worse.

With a grunt, he drags the blade across, opening Max up like a poor approximation of a mother’s scars

The Will Graham of it all, gutted by his beloved in the kitchen, a massive pool of his own blood at his feet.

There was also the imagery of Charles spitting the bit of Max up into the sink, that vaguely reminded me of Will spitting up the ear. Not as direct, but still important to me, a deranged person.

#reviewing the discord messages I sent about this.... i'm so sorry to those affected #Directors commentary #Choking on Greatness #Lestappen #ask me :)

[clay-cuttlefish]

Finally we've arrived at 52, the series that turned me from a casual reader of a few comics into a full-on DC fan and Question enthusiast. This is the reason I set out on this project in the first place. I love it so much.

#1

This is my fifth time reading this in full, I think, and I still get hyped at this opening issue. Look at my guys.

It's a miracle this came together as well as it did. The omnibus is great for giving some insight into that construction process.

#2

There's just so much in 52 and I can't believe they pulled it off. Part of that is that it's thematically coherent, despite how different the plots are. Grief, reinvention, self-destruction as a means to cope with loss... it all feeds into itself.

In a slightly different timeline I came out of 52 fixated on Booster Gold and stumbled back into the Question later through Blue Beetle, instead of the other way around.

It took 416 issues but they're interacting! They're together! It's paying off!

Renee's heartbreaking spiral into self-destruction is interrupted by this massive dork. I love them.

#3

I really need to read Steel. Captivated by these two.

Skeets nudging the gyro cart owner out of the way is a very good panel. Catlike behavior.

#4

Booster and Bea's conversation is so. Hhh.

In the omnibus, Mark Waid calls Vic and Renee's scene "one of the high points of the entire series", and I'm with him.

#5

Renee and Maggie...

The metahuman hospital's a really cool piece of worldbuilding.

The only plotline I don't care much about is the spaceguys. I still like them, but the bar's really high here and I want to see other characters more.

Wish this was less creepy about Starfire.

#6

Kind of obsessed with Bob the theatre teacher and villain-for-hire, conceptually.

It takes a while for the Black Adam plot to pick up steam so this part isn't quite hitting yet.

Booster having a normal one.

#7

Renee hasn't talked to her mom in three years by this point. Oof.

The exes of all time!

Booster... Ralph blaming him for Ted's death is brutal.

#8

Oh cmon girl you're smarter than this. It's Lex Luthor, when has he ever had anyone's best interests at heart.

At least Ollie's still doing his thing.

Clark hating Booster is so good.

#9

"Smart-ass." "Consistency is everything." He is so annoying!

The John and Natasha fight is great.

#10

Clark taking a page from Lois' book is so good. Ridiculous.

I like Will and Professor Morrow a lot, nice that they're back in focus.

Supernova time :)

#11

His anti-smoking rant...

"I don't owe you anything." Oof ouch my soul.

Big talk here from a guy who spent a decade hung up on Myra.

The one superheroine ass shot I respect is in the "that's a Batwoman" panel because Renee deserves to appreciate Kate's ass.

#12

Besties moment.

Black Adam's plotline is gaining speed.

Oh Ralph.

#13

Oh NO, Ralph.

#14

They both look so good here. Love his stubble.

Desperately want to hear Tot's side of their conversation, and also their previous phone calls, because I'm sure he'd have Opinions about Vic deciding to become a mentor.

Shaking him. You are so annoying!

"There's no such thing as crazy, just behaviour that society has deemed unacceptable." SO true bestie.

#15

BOOSTER...

#16

Oh god, Renee.

Billy officiating Black Adam's wedding is very sweet.

#17

Luthor's superteam is one of the series highlights.

Still very funny that there's just a guy named Hannibal on it. Zero subtlety here.

Oh Lobo. I do not care about you.

#18

He's so silly.

Renee is having truly awful time falling back into old coping measures and he's out here getting scooped and being made fun of for cockblocking.

Booster's shitty funeral still fucks me up. Choosing to believe Skeets intentionally didn't invite people for evil reasons because the idea nobody showed up is too much.

Once again, oh no Ralph.

#18/2

A backup with Vic's origins. It's about right, though I prefer him starting as the Question before moving back to Hub City.

It lists his "essential storylines" as Mysterious Suspense, The Question 1987, and Cry for Blood, which I mostly agree with. Mysterious Suspense is less important but reading a pre-DC story is useful background for the 87 run and it's his only solo option.

#clayposts #clayreads #the question #vic sage #renee montoya

[bi-bard]

dodie Songs That Would Describe Relationships with the Murder Husbands - Hannibal Preference [NBC's Hannibal]

Title: dodie Songs That Would Describe Relationships with the Murder Husbands

Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter

Word Count: 2,731 words

Warning(s): (Will's) mention of attack/murder, (Hannibal's) mention of murder

Author's Note: I was gonna do a third part to "Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe Relationship with the Murder Husbands" but that felt like too much... but I'll do it if people want it.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

**I did not change the pronouns of the lyrics, but this is written with a gender-neutral reader**

--------------------------

Will Graham:

A Friday in the Life of Richard and Betty

Make a home in nowhere Make a home with me

I never thought that I would find myself at peace while living in near isolation.

I thought that living in a city would always be the best option for me. I would like to believe that many people who grew up in small towns have the same thought.

But here I was.

I was living in a cabin in the woods... and I was happy there.

After everything that happened with Hannibal and Mason and the F.B.I., it almost felt natural for Will and me to pack up and run for the hills.

We found a small place tucked away from the rest of the world. It was a beautiful place. Surrounded by trees, sitting on a lake. It felt like it was too nice to be our reality.

We both still had a thing for taking in strays.

We had enough dogs for a small army.

And we were at peace.

I was out throwing a few toys around in the yard. I was laughing as the dogs all jumped around and barked at me. It was a dream.

I turned around when one of the dogs took off running to the porch. I saw Will standing up there with a grin on his face. I grinned back before starting to walk over to him.

"Morning," I muttered as I kissed his cheek.

"Morning," he grumbled back, wrapping his arm around me. "You let me sleep in."

I nodded. "You looked peaceful. I wasn't going to interrupt that."

He leaned over and pecked my lips.

"I am pretty happy that you're awake," I said.

"Why's that?"

"Because I need to wash the sheets," I replied.

I went to step away so I could head inside. My wrist was grabbed before I could get too far away from him. I was pulled back over to Will.

I sighed at him as he wrapped his arms around me. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Not yet," he mumbled.

"Not yet?"

He shook his head. I chuckled at him.

One of my hands started messing with the hair on the nape of his neck. His eyes closed as he rested his forehead on mine.

"Will," I said softly. He hummed in response. "I love you."

His eyes opened again. "I love you too."

And for just a moment, I accepted that maybe we had earned this life.

The life that was perfect for both of us.

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Yeah, I'm sick of losing soulmates, won't be alone again I can finally see, you're as fucked up as me So how do we win?

"I came here to be alone."

I knew that. I just had trouble accepting it. The idea of leaving Will on his own in that house made me feel sick to my stomach. Too much had happened there for me to leave him there.

"Maybe you should have mentioned that before you ran off," I replied, going to sit next to him on the floor.

I looked out in front of us.

It was like it all was happening again. Abigail was lying on the floor with her throat slit. Will was desperately trying to cover up that wound while he was almost gutted. I was crawling on the floor with blood seeping through my shirt.

I could feel the dull ache in my body again. Like the wounds had never healed at all.

"I'm sorry," Will said quietly.

I closed my eyes.

It took a moment for me to reply, "I almost lost you."

I heard him sigh.

"I can't lose you, Will," I muttered, opening my eyes to look at him again. "I... I can't do that. I've had so much taken from me already. And seeing you on that floor..."

I trailed off, shaking my head.

The attack left something sitting between the two of us. Like scar tissue had built up between us. Neither one of us wanted to touch it out of fear of something breaking open. My confession... me admitting my fear... it was the first time we had actually spoken about the attack.

"(Y/n)," Will spoke up after a moment. I took a deep breath, trying to blink away some tears. His hand found mine, the fingers intertwining carefully. "Look at me. Please."

I turned my face to his.

There was a moment of us sitting in silence for a few moments. I think more had been said in the midst of that silence than had been said in the weeks following the attack. It made me feel ridiculous to admit that.

Slowly, Will leaned over and pressed his lips to mine.

I felt a tear roll down my face as my eyes closed.

Both of us were broken.

We both were covered in our fair share of scars and bruises.

But all we truly had was each other.

And if clinging to Will was the only way to keep me from spiraling, then I could live with that.

Human

Will you share your soul with me? Unzip your skin and let me have a see

Will never seemed like one to share his true thoughts.

He seemed like someone that would layer his thoughts in riddles and metaphors until you forget what you were originally asking about.

I had decided to drive Will home after a case. He seemed exhausted and burdened by something. If I could help in some way, then I was going to.

I had followed him inside, telling him to go shower and change while I took care of the dogs. It took a few tries, but I eventually managed to pull the dogs away from the bathroom door long enough to get them to go outside and go potty.

I took the brief moment of peace to look around the house. It always looked a little lived-in. It was hard to have seven dogs and keep up with housework, but Will seemed to do a pretty good job with it.

My eyes froze on the bed.

There were two towels on the mattress. One was mostly flat while the other had been wrinkled up.

I furrowed my eyebrows. I wouldn't usually be one to question another person's habits, but I felt a need to do so in this situation.

Will walked out in a new set of clothes just as I was letting all of the dogs in. They all ran to him immediately.

"Hey," I said, pulling his attention away from the avalanche of puppies. "Why are there towels on your bed?"

He looked over at the towels. "I forgot to pick them up this morning."

"That's not quite what I was asking."

I saw him tense a bit. He knew that I wasn't going to let this go.

"I use them when I wake up from nightmares," he said. "They've been happening more recently. The towels help with the sweat."

I nodded, just trying to show that I understood. "I... I could stay."

Will raised an eyebrow at me.

"That way if you do wake up, then you aren't completely alone," I continued. "It might help."

"I couldn't ask you to do that."

I scoffed. "Well, then it's a good thing that I'm offering."

"(Y/n), you don't have to-"

"I know. But if I can help you somehow, then I would rather try to help you-"

"Why?"

I furrowed my eyebrows again.

"Why are you offering," he explained. "Why are you so desperate to help me?"

There was a pause. A long, tense pause where we were just looking at each other.

"I... I just always feel better when I'm protecting someone," I muttered after a while. "I've... failed at that a few times. Maybe I'm trying to make up for it."

I watched Will's shoulders and chest move as he took a deep breath.

"I'll go, if that's what you want," I mumbled. "I... I shouldn't have-"

Will stepped closer to me. My sentence died on my tongue as my mind registered the lack of distance between us. I looked into his eyes, trying to find some indication of what he was planning.

"You have a scar," he almost whispered. "On your neck... just behind your ear... is that-"

"A result of my failure? Yes."

I didn't see Will's hand move. I just felt his fingertips graze the scarred skin as if it were a piece of fragile art.

I watched his eyes trace the wound. All I could think of was how desperately I wanted to know him. Every scar, every good memory, every time he had moved when he was younger. From the mundane to the life-altering... I wanted to see all of him... know all of him.

"Will..."

He leaned forward slowly, letting his lips brush mine.

It took me a matter of milliseconds to close the distance properly and kiss him. My hands brushed his sides. One of his hands barely touched the side of my neck. His fingers carefully avoided touching my scar. I almost grinned against his lips at the thought.

For those few seconds, we were both lost in our own world. Nothing existed outside of that little house.

I was only pulled out of our small moment when I heard someone sniffing near us.

I pulled away from the kiss and looked down. One of the dogs was next to us, sniffing me suspiciously. I was a stranger in their house. I needed to be checked.

I heard Will chuckle at the interruption.

I looked back at him.

"Are you staying," he asked.

I grinned and nodded, letting my thumbs draw small circles on his side. "For as long as you'll let me."

Hannibal Lecter:

Help Myself

I'll scratch till I'm raw I'll fuck him tonight When it hurts so much more You can say you were right

How long could one's mind keep a person from looking back at what they had done?

I asked that question many times.

I was beginning to doubt that my mind would ever have a good answer for me.

Following Hannibal felt natural. Letting him sweep me up and bring me to Europe with him felt natural.

My mind wanted to be in this state of ignorance. I wanted to believe that I hadn't truly seen all of Hannibal. My life would be so much easier that way.

But there were times when what I witnessed crawled into the forefront of my mind. I could see the blood and the violence and the gore. I could see every part of Hannibal. My stomach would churn, and my vision would be soured.

Hannibal could always see when my mind was drawn into that state.

I knew that I wasn't completely safe with him. When it became necessary, he could kill me with little hesitation. I would be nothing but another victim.

But he would always pull me away from those thoughts.

His arms would wrap around me. His lips find my skin; a line traced from my cheek to my jaw to my neck. He would cover me in love and affection until my mind went blank and I could blindly fall into his arms.

No danger could matter to me anymore.

As long as he was kissing me and holding me, then I could believe that we were perfect.

And when my end came, I knew some part of my mind would say "I told you so. But when I was in his arms, I could live in this state of bliss.

I could allow myself to believe in nothing but the love he had for me.

When

I'll take what I can get Cause I'm too damp for a spark Kissing sickly sweet guys Cause they say they like my eyes But I'd only ever see them in the dark

I couldn't remember how we had gotten onto the subject of my opinions about dating and romance.

I knew that we had been talking about my hesitation when it came to genuine connection. That somehow shifted to me waltzing around Hannibal's office while I preached from my soapbox.

"I just can't deal with the first dates, the getting to know people, the inevitable disappointment," I rambled. "I find all of it so... pointless."

"They're necessary parts of establishing healthy relationships," Hannibal replied. "Long-lasting relationships."

"Maybe I'm not cut out for long-lasting," I shrugged.

"You recognize that you have problems making long-lasting connections, yet you seem dismissive of many major parts," he explained.

"Yup."

"Have you been let down a lot when you have attempted to make those lasting connections," he asked. "Is that why you're so dismissive?"

I paused, a little shocked that he asked so blatantly.

Hannibal quietly nodded when I didn't respond. He looked down at his notes, scribbling something down.

He looked at the clock. "We can continue this discussion at your next appointment if you'd like."

I slowly nodded.

He stood from his chair and started to guide me to the door.

He stopped just before he opened it. "(Y/n)."

"Yeah," I asked.

"You are not unlovable."

I paused again.

Why was it so easy for him to see through everything I said?

If I'm Being Honest

Could you love this? Will this one be right? Well if I'm being honest, I'm hoping it might Could you love this? Did you plan to fall? Well if I'm being honest, oh I bet it's not that at all

I had never been as nervous as I was walking into Hannibal's home for the first time.

I had mentioned my habit of falling into a cycle of three meals that I would eat on a regular basis. Hannibal mentioned that he could help to teach me some new recipes.

He felt a need to give me this cooking lesson in his own house.

And now, I was here.

I was standing on the other side of his counter, watching him cut up a few vegetables on the cutting board. I was waiting for some kind of task.

"Are you okay," he asked.

I nodded. "I'm just waiting for you to tell me what to do."

"I don't want you to get distracted by focusing on one small part of the entire image," he explained. "That's why you're watching."

"Okay," I chuckled and nodded.

There was another pause between us.

"There's something else on your mind," he pointed out. "Care to discuss it?"

He was right.

Everything about this night felt weird. Especially because of some of what Hannibal had said during our sessions. It all felt like it added up to more than simple kindness. I just hadn't wanted to push the subject. I wanted to believe that I was reading too far into it all.

"(Y/n)."

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart rate spike.

"You said that you were certain that I wasn't unlovable," I said. "You insisted on it, in fact."

"I did."

"I want to know what led you to say that."

A grin pulled at the corner of Hannibal's mouth. "Is it not obvious?"

"I'm not typically a fan of assuming someone's intentions or motivations," I replied.

My heart sped up more as he placed the knife he was holding on the countertop and started walking over to me. I tried to stand up a bit taller as he made his way over to me. Something in his eyes told me that my attempt to seem braver didn't work on him.

He stopped just in front of me.

He was waiting for me to move away from him. When I didn't, his hands cupped my cheeks. He leaned in and kissed me gently. I hesitantly kissed him back.

I had never realized how much I had wanted this kind of affection. Not just a kiss, but everything behind it. The emotion behind it. It all felt so intense.

Hannibal leaned back a few moments later.

"Are you okay," he asked quietly.

I nodded. "Yeah. That... That was really nice. That's all."

His smile formed again.

He stepped back again and went back to cooking.

I smiled a bit and turned back to watch him.

For just a moment, I allowed myself to believe that there was more to love than the "bullshit" that I had known.

--------------------------

Author's Note: "Help Myself" might be my favorite dodie song right now. It is so beautiful and well written. I adore it.

--------------------------

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#hannibal imagine #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal x reader #hannibal preference #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter fanfiction #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #will graham fanfiction #will graham imagine #imagine #fanfiction #x reader #preference

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

I'm just trying to imagine what Will would do if he saw Jack again post-fall. We see Jack and Hannibal duke it out twice, so the obvious answer with Hannibal is that if he saw Jack again is he would try and kill him again. But with Will the feelings and motivations and the connection itself is different.

All throughout the show, there's barriers between Will and his becoming/his full acceptance of Hannibal that make Will lean towards the side of Jack/the FBI. In season one it's his sanity and his own sense of justice. It's his supposed love for Alana and the fact that Hannibal is just his psychiatrist at this point, not yet a friend or an enemy. In season two it's the loss of Abigail, it's the distrust between Will and Hannibal because of the framing, but Will is getting close. He is toeing the line. In season 3b, the barrier is Molly. It's a sense of normalcy, or rather a desperate grasping for it on Will's part. But even then Will is so close.

Jack comes to Will in season 3b despite knowing Will is trying to leave it all behind, and asks Will why he warned Hannibal all those years ago, and Will tells him "Because he was my friend, and because I wanted to run away with him."

The closest we get is season 3a, between the dream of running away with Hannibal and the dream of leaving him behind, where Will is determined to get to Hannibal, to get to his roots, to the core rooms of his memory palace. Will didn't bring Jack along to Italy with him. Their meeting was unintentional, but Will used his being there to his advantage. Will wasn't part of the FBI anymore. He shouldn't have been part of the search for Bedelia or Hannibal. But Jack was there and he was still in law enforcement even if he wasn't part of the BSU anymore. Jack gave him an in. Jack got him into crime scenes or I suppose you could say Pazzi did, but that relationship was skewed by Jack as well.

The thing is, Jack is a pest in Will's life. I think it stands to reason that even if it was miniscule compared to what Hannibal did to Will, Jack also manipulated Will. Seriously, the entire scene in the barn with Elliot Buddish's corpse and Jack's response to Will wanting to quit and being worried about his own health just rubbed me entirely the wrong way.

So what if Will runs into dear Uncle Jack again after Dolarhyde? Because I doubt Jack will stop searching for him, because Will was his subordinate and his friend and he will likely feel responsible for what ultimately happened to Will. What happens to Jack after Will finally accepts how freeing killing is, how beautiful a displayed body can be, how delicious human flesh is, how loving and worshipful Hannibal can be?

Because in the end, when Will and Hannibal kill Jack (and they will, maybe not immediately, but eventually) it will not be forgiveness such as Will and Hannibal carved into each other. It will be like Garret Jacob Hobbs and every other insignificant killer of the week that felt the wrath of the lamb: it will be righteous.

#idk if you can tell but i don't like jack #i want to see what Hannibal and Will would do with him together #or what Will would do to him on his own #hannibal #will graham #jack crawford #hannibal meta

[charliedawn]

How would the Hannibals react to their little sister crying because of a teacher ?

Warning :.....I don't know what happened. I...I'm sorry. I wanted to write gore and...Well...wrote this. Not for sensitive souls. You've been warned.

When you came back home crying, Hannibal Jr. was the first one to find you and wordlessly took you in his arms. He knew how to calm you down, and even though he didn't know why you were so upset—he still sought to comfort you first.

"Ssh...love. Calm down. What happened ?", he asked in a soothing voice and you whimpered in his arms. "My...My teacher was mean to me today. She told me I was an idiot and that she was disappointed and that I would never be as good as Morgan or Kevin. She...She..."

You were so upset, you couldn't finish your sentence and Hannibal Jr. hushed you softly while petting your hair and cradled you in his arms. "Hush now, love. You'll be okay. Everything is going to be fine. It's okay. She won't bother you ever again...I promise."

Hannibal Jr. kept holding you as you cried on his shoulder—even though he was already planning a meeting with that...lovely teacher of yours.

A few days later :

Your teacher was scheduled to come to the house and Hannibal Jr. had asked Peter to accompany you to the cinema while they...talked.

He had set everything ready and the moment she stepped in, he smiled and put on his emotionless mask on.

He pretended to be charming and complimented her awful vest with a small seductive smile—even though it hid a barely hidden eagerness to tear through tender flesh and rip out someone's heart. He served her some tea and watched as she mindlessly drank it in one swing...

She would have a severe headache.

"It is a shame. Really. You know, I've had Morgan in my class a few years back, a very talented young man. I was hoping for another prodigy, but she is a real disappointment. I don't even know how she managed to get past kindergarten.", your teacher said with clear distaste in her voice and Hannibal Jr. could only let out a soft sigh before carefully putting down his cup. He really didn't like when teachers thought themselves above everything just because they were the adults in the classroom. Quite frankly—school was never to be an institution dictated by tyrants prepared to give up at the first problem arising. He then wondered if he should start looking for online schooling for you instead ? Well...He would have to think more about it after having dealt with that tyrant of yours.

"I see...Thank you for keeping me informed.", he said with a placid smile.

"You're w—", Mrs H/N was about to answer—but suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe...Her head started spinning and her cup fell to the floor and shattered. She then tumbled to the floor herself and took deep hectic breaths—suffocating. She tried to reach out desperately for Hannibal Jr. who kept his perfectly poised expression as she started gurgling and rolling on the floor.

"Relax, madam. You're not dying...yet.", he said with a cold smile etching on his lips and your teacher's eyes widened at the realization that she had been trapped before she passed out. Hannibal Jr. then sighed and finished his own cup before standing up and dragged your teacher to the basement.

There would be a family meeting later concerning her fate...

A few hours later :

Hannibal Jr. put both you and Peter to bed before getting down the stairs leading to the basement. Morgan and Kevin were already waiting and Hannibal Sr.'s face appeared on the screen of the TV situated at the center of the room. He tilted his head and started examining the woman in front of him with mild interest before asking—straight to the point.

"What did she do ?"

"She made Y/N cry.", Kevin answered and suddenly, a heavy silence settled around the room. Hannibal Sr. leaned forward to get an even better look at the teacher who seemed deeply afraid. He smiled. Good...

"And she is still breathing ?", he asked before throwing a quizzical circular glance at all the other Hannibals present.

"We were waiting for your approval.", Hannibal Jr. explained and Hannibal Sr. hummed absent-mindedly before his eyes settled back on the woman who was desperately trying to cry and scream through the tape securing her mouth shut.

"You did well...", he finally said before a dark sinister smile spread on his face. "I would have hated missing on all of the fun."

Your teacher's eyes widened as she shook her head vividly and tried to beg for mercy to her former students—but there was no mercy to be given. She had made their little sister cry. She was done for the moment she stepped over their threshold.

But, her fear was so strong—it made the three Hannibals present snap their heads at her with astounding synchronization. They seemed to be the Cerberus of Hell with one mind and one soulless heart—guided by fear and tears. Kevin was about to touch her when Hannibal Jr. stopped him.

"Kevin. Gloves. You know I don't like when you touch the food with your bare hands.", Hannibal Jr reminded him before giving the two boys a box of medical gloves and a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Kevin and Morgan nodded in agreement before putting them on, even though Kevin couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"We're going to eat her...Do you really think having our fingertips all over her is going to make a difference ?"

Hannibal Jr. gave him such a dark stare—Kevin didn't dare protest.

"Fine fine. I'll wear your damn gloves."

Hannibal Jr. then glanced at Morgan who was staring at Mrs H/N intently. Hannibal Jr. smiled knowingly.

"She said you were one of her favorites...", he informed him and Morgan tilted his head before humming softly.

"Oh...Really ?"

While Kevin was putting on his gloves, Morgan stepped forward towards Mrs H/N and took a strand/curl of her hair and started twirling it around his finger with a small smile.

"Such a shame. You were one of my favorites too, Mrs H/N.", Morgan mourned before leaning forward to whisper in the teacher's ear. "You just had to go and make our little sister cry, didn't you ?"

Mrs H/N tried to plead and ask Morgan to set her free, but the young man seemed to read her mind and clicked his tongue before offering her a fake apologetic smile.

"Today is the day you die. I'm sorry, miss H/N. I have no say in the matter anymore...But, as a favor from one of your old favorites. Any last word to plead your case ?" He asked before releasing her mouth and Mrs H/N kept silent for a moment before throwing her head back with laughter. When she was done, she glanced at the Hannibal she used to call her "favorite" with a fierce look.

"My dear sweet Morgan...", she uttered with a sickly sweet voice and her expression darkened as she then spat. "I hope you choke on my bones."

Morgan took a step back in surprise at the dark glare his former teacher was now staring at him with and his whole form started to tremble as he felt an unknown sensation spark throughout him. He finally chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair before taking out his knife and making it dance between his fingers—relishing in the way Mrs H/N seemed unable to detach her eyes from the shiny blade.

He then stepped forward and pressed the tip underneath her chin, stroking the skin there with the back of his gloved finger. He could hear her heartbeat increase significantly and a sinister smile crept up on his face as he pressed a cold kiss on the side of her face.

"...You really were my favorite teacher, you know ?", he whispered in her ear and Mrs. H/N closed her eyes. She resigned herself to keeping silent—finally accepting her fate. It was too late. She knew it now. There was no turning back—no point in begging. She didn't even hear the voice of Hannibal Sr. when he gave them his permission to begin.

"Boys. Kill.", Hannibal Sr. instructed mercilessly and suddenly, the three men smiled at each other and were on her in an instant.

Morgan lowered his knife and with one swift movement, plunged the dagger deep into her stomach and swallowed her gasp—his lips barely an inch from hers and his eyes catching the life slowly draining away from her.

"Pretty...Really pretty...", he praised before taking a step back and leaving the two other Hannibals have their turn.

Kevin didn't like killing game so fast—he liked the chase and the hunt. So, he didn't take as much pleasure as Morgan and desired to just get it over with. He took out another knife and slit her throat before taking a step back. Hannibal Jr. was last and he stared down as she started choking on her own blood. His eyes were immediately drawn to the thick rivers of blood cascading down her neck and chest. He knelt before her—as if worshipping her. He leaned forward and started drinking the blood from her neck—giving it a few tentative licks before pressing his lips to the never-ending gush. And then, he decided to end her suffering and slowly plunged his knife in her chest—where her heart was. It was almost merciful as her eyes closed and her soul departed...But then, he sank his teeth into the flesh of her throat and tear it apart. It felt...blissful.

"Oh yeah...'Wear gloves, Kevin'.", Kevin started complaining. "But, you don't have any problem with sinking your teeth into the meat and..." Another dark stare sent his way and Kevin immediately stopped talking and only huffed a small laugh of disbelief.

Unbeknownst to all of them that you and Peter were hiding on the stairs and looked with morbid fascination at the bloody scene. Your hand was in Peter's and he sensed you shaking. He glanced at you with a small worried frown—wondering if you should come back up...But then, his eyes widened as he realized you weren't shaking from fear. Your eyes were blown wide and the wide unhealthy grin spreading on your face made you look completely unhinged.

And when you slowly turned your gaze away from the macabre scene to look at him—he couldn't help but shiver as he saw the glimmer of insanity in your eyes.

"...I love this family.", you finally confessed in a whisper.

Truth be told ? You hadn't even been that offended by your teacher's words. You just wanted to see the reactions of the other members of the family—and they didn't disappoint. You couldn't tear your eyes away as the wolves started devouring your teacher raw...It made you feel things you shouldn't and you were tempted to join them.

But then, you froze into place when you realized that the TV had slightly shifted position and now, Hannibal Sr. was staring at you and Peter with a small knowing grin. He then winked at you and raised his index to his mouth significantly.

You nodded understandingly and bit your lower lip in order not to giggle as Peter grabbed your hand and led you back upstairs discreetly.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #hannibal family #hannibals

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Happy STS, Elli!

I'm asking people about villains today.

For you, I specifically wanted to bring up Damien, because at the beginning of his story, he's someone who would objectively be regarded as a villain by most people and as someone who deserves whatever he gets, and yet we sympathize with him both because of his past and what happens to him in the present, and you might say he redeems himself. It's an approach I find very intriguing. What led you to want to explore a character like this?

And in general, do you believe villains are capable of redemption? Or are some of them just evil and beyond help? How do you decide which is which?

Happy ST cough S, Claire!

Hm. Villain. I think (I hope 😅) there's a difference between how the other characters see him and how the readers see him.

The people in the story only know him as the Nightmare, know what he has done. The reader, on the other hand, gets inside his head, and the moment we ask why he did it, things fall apart. I obviously tried to write him in pain, and scared, and desperate. He insults Riordan while still mostly in shock, but other than that, he just gives up.

And well, he did not redeem himself. That would be trying to do the right thing, and the thing is… he always did. He just had to make impossible choices. It is basically an abusive relationship he was trapped in. Could he have made better choices? Perhaps. It's easy as the author, because I can decide all the what ifs. You can say "he should have tried X" and I can say "he would have died :)"

Damien's point was always being accused for something he didn't really do, but no one would care because he DID do bad things. I so do love a 'well technically' in writing.

In fiction, everyone is redeemable, at least to some people. Half this site wants to fuck Hannibal Lecter. The fun part about fiction is that no real people got hurt, so it does not matter.

For me, a villain must consciously make decisions that hurt other people for personal gain or enjoyment. Someone making a mistake is not a villain. Someone picking between bad and worse options is not a villain. Someone trying to survive is not a villain.

I personally have little interest in seeing most truly bad guys redeemed, but I am not above falling for The Narrative. But, fun thing, for me it's always easier to sympathize with the guy who tried to achieve world domination than the one who beats his wife :') Something about the large scale just makes it less personal, and it's always easier to sneak some 'well, actually he had a reason' in.

#salad-ask #clairelsonao3 #sts ask

[house-of-slayterr]

sorry for being in your inbox again, but about our vampire! Hannibal AU, it's Hannibal who is the vampire, but what if it was a more normal AU, where only you (for example) were a vampire? How would he react to that?

So every bodies normal except me? Of this could be fun!

There was someone new in town, something that piqued Hannibal’s interest. A new toy for him to play with, to break. And oh what a pretty little thing they were. It’s wasn’t often single people moves to the town. It was always family’s or couples. Better yet, he met them at a crime scene.

“Who is that?” He asked Crawford.

“That’s Frances, our new Forensic Entomologist.”

Hannibal knew them in there that he wanted to weasel his way into my life. Get to know me. Get inside my head and twist everything around. Make me hate my job, and hate everyone but him. Will was able amazing candidate but he needed a bigger challenge. And I was exactly what he was searching for.

(Ok short blurb about how we meet over, headcannon time)

He’d gain my trust by being the gentleman that he is, but little does he know it’s actually him who shouldn’t be so trusting.

He seems be different than will, of course he wants to mess with my psyche a little, and normally he reserves his meals for those who are rude, but I can imagine him fantasying about what I would taste like

It would drive him insane, dreaming about it and trying to hold himself back

But I’m doing the same with him, he smells so good, and I just want to sink my fangs in. But it would be foolish to ruin something so good.

He cracks first. Finally snapping after a dinner party and inviting me to stay late. Which isn’t smart on his part, of course if he was successful everyone would know he was the last person I was around

He’d block me from leaving the room pinning me against the wall. If I hand an inkling of his cannibalistic tendencies, I could probably dodge. But if I didn’t yet, I’d think something was going on.

If I kissed him as a distraction I don’t think it would be that effective. It would just make him want to taste me more. So much so I don’t them think he’d wait to kill me to get a taste, he just bites into my neck.

At first I’m confused because he didn’t smell like a vampire, he smells human, he manages to rip a chunk off my neck but I don’t even flinch, which confuses him

“You done?” I ask.

He’d stand there baffled. Surely I wasn’t that delusional that I wouldn’t even react to him ripping out my jugular. He watches in real time as the wound closes before his eyes, and he debates for a second if perhaps I drugged him somehow when he wasn’t paying attention

I just smirk at his pretty confused little face. Dumb Hannibal is so hot when he’s not one step ahead of everyone. He gets so desperate and you can see it in his eyes. How cute.

“I think it’s my turn, I mean it’s only fair”

I pin him to the wall using only a quarter of my strength, and he can’t manage to writhe his way out of my grip. I kiss him again just to taste my own blood on his lips. I couldn’t kill him, then he’d turn, with my blood in his system. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun.

None of the towns folk were on vervain, which made it easy for me to feed and even easier for me to compel people. But I didn’t want to compel him. He was too interesting.

“What are you?” He asks, sobering up a little.

“Oh sweetheart, I could be your best friend if you let me. I see we share a simple diet. I knew that meat at dinner tasted familiar.”

He’d still look confused, so I’d flash him my fangs with my best smile. Then it would click for him. Of course he read about vampires, but he never imagined they were real. And foolish him, he invited me into his home. I could come and go whenever I please.

“Tell you what Doctor, I’ll let you have some more of my blood, I know you loved it. But you gotta promise me one thing.”

“Anything.” He said, suddenly more confident.

“Don’t die on me.”

With that I’d bite into his neck and savour every drop of blood that courses through his body. His skin is soft and his blood is sickly sweet, curtesy of his customary diet. The best blood I had in a while. I’d have enough self control to stop, pulling back when his knees got weak, and carrying him over to the couch.

I’d lay him down with his head on my lap and bite into my wrist, letting him drink. I’d watch hungrily as he greedily drank it in, staring at me with those desperate, blood lust filled eyes.

He looks so pretty like that, all sweaty and disoriented and blood drunk. Such a good boy. My mind wanders to what it would be like to have Will on my lap as well, would he be just as sweet? I’d be able to taste the fear on his blood, something that was absent from Hannibal’s.

I’d stroke his hair with my other hand as he continued to drink. It would make me weak but it would be worth it. Forming a bond like this wasn’t something a vampire took lightly.

He’d pull away and I’d lick the dribble of blood off his chin.

“What happens if i die?”

“You’d be like me silly. And it’s not time for that. You’re perfect just the way you are little cannibal.”

“How old are you?” He asked, totally fascinated and wanting to learn everything he could

I would chuckle. “It’s not polite to ask a vampire their age Dr Lecter”

He would blush. Only such a strong creature could bring the Hannibal Lecter to a blushing stuttering mess.

“Will you keep my secret?”

“With my life, my people eating friend. As long as you keep mine.”

That’s how I think it would go if I was the first vampire he ever met. I would enjoy being able to overpower that man. Let me tell you 😍

#Hannibal au #vampire Hannibal #Hannibal imagine #will Graham #Hannibal lecter #Alana bloom #freddie lounds #fredrick chilton #jack crawford #vamprie reader #self insert

[nerdynikki94]

Guys, already at season 3, and I'm just going to say it... I'm an unapologetic Hannigram Whore. Problematic. Evil. Gaslight. Toxicity. Murder. Cannibalism. Manipulation. And psychopathy, be damned. Those two men are so fucking obsessed with each other and want to bang so insanely, it's embarrassing.

Ngl, I have to check my morality at the door for this one, like it's frequently quite hard to sit through. That being said, the connection between them is so profound and immeasurable that they are in a hypnotizing, endless circle.

To discover Hannibal, Will had to empathize with him, but Hannibal had already chosen him as his obsession. And Will's empathy towards the masked murderer pulled him even closer to Hannibal, which spurred his obsession for Will. Their entire relationship is an undeniable and vicious cycle.

That is where the true romance of their connection lies. They are star-crossed cosmic calamities orbiting one another, wreaking havoc in the atmospheres unfortunate enough to cross their paths. Their shared capacity for cruelty leaves all bystanders to become nothing but collateral damage.

I just don’t have words for how many contradicting emotions I have about these men. Like I'm not saying I'd want them to have a white-picket fence ending (the finale was spoiled for me long ago, and it honestly seems kind of fitting). Still, I'm enthralled by their magnetic draw to one another. Their chemistry onscreen - especially throughout the brilliant dialogue and phenomenal performances - makes this pairing inherently romantic. They spend their entire relationship straddling a razor-thin line of love and hate, falling so deep into that bond, that they ultimately lost sight of which side they surrendered to.

Hannibal compared Will & himself to Achilles & Patroclus. He asked him to run away with him after he realized that Will hadn't actually killed Freddie Lounds. He wanted to start a life with Will, raising Abigail. Hannibal wants to believe Will is his one equal.

It's hard to see it objectively when you know his character doesn't truly comprehend empathy. But, in Hannibal's mind, he is the scorned lover, the one that opened himself up with desperation to be safe, seen, vulnerable with the person he’d deemed worthy.

And he was rejected.

Just like Alana had said about the desecration of 'Freddie Lounds' corpse. It's a courtship. I sincerely believe that that was not merely a metaphor. In Hannibal's fucked up mind, his Season 2's arc end was proposing to Will. While his Season 1's arc was testing Will's true worthiness. And prediction (and pre-conceived spoilers about the finale abound) says that Season 3's final arc will be the consummation of that eternal vow, their inescapable bond.

So, guys, have I made it onto the Hannigram community on Tumblr? I need this, guys... Macdennis is a perpetual Shroedinger's cat meant to torture me with what if's.... , Sherlock was a quick watch and pretty brief obsession... and honestly, I refuse to watch Supernatural. So, yeah.

Even if my morality (despite this being fiction) won't allow me to ship these men as endgame, I completely fucking get it. Like, this is intense; undeniably twisted, but passionate, and intense, nevertheless.

Two sides of a blood-covered, golden coin. Ruined yet priceless; one face unable to exist in the absence of the other.

#hannibal #will x hannibal #hannigram #y'all this takes gay tragic pining to thw ultimate boss level #the entire foundation of their relationship is wrapped in life and death #it's too traumatic and overwhelming to be stopped. they are enticed by the evils they've discovered in one another. #these two men are written like greek tragedy. and their characters are shot like heroes in doomed romances. #the chemistry between Mads Mikkelsen and Hugh Dancy is off the fucking charts!!!💥❤️‍🔥💯 #at least with Hannigram I can find closure that it's over. while Macdennis will murder me with endless seasons😮‍💨

[hellinglasses]

@blackberrywars my dear my darling I took a few days to reply cause I’m a certified Mess but by all means please Know I was ecstatic upon seeing this. welp, here it goes

10 fandoms, 10 characters, 10 tags

in no particular order of belovedness:

1. the witcher: it too is lambert. my ashdnoijskplfgeiotrsd. a sdbdiunfaodjpksapl, if you will. I want to wrap this baby in blankets even though he will probably bite my hand for the trouble I dared to inflict to him. I’ll cherish it when he does and then feed him ice cream.

2. our flag means death: it’s the angry little rat man for me. israel my beloved I want to give you head pats. I want to feed you soup. I want to drag you through horrible things and then surround you with Love, actually

3. the simarillion and holy hell what even to call this fandom assorted mess: maedhros. the first time I read from you my hear went sdugbuahjikoalbdsnmf and I have loved you ever since, even as canon whump you and yours so terribly and half the fandom will spit the dirt upon hearing your name. I wish I had it in me to actually write that fic to you.

4. good omens: aziraphale. I could never put into words how badly I love you and see myself on you, even as I don’t love all my parts I sure love yours. you’re kind, but aloof, loving but afraid, giving yet self-indulgent, feral but covered in just enough veneer one must work for it to perceive it, to perceive you. and of course, an entire bitch (affectionate)

5. clowntown: richie tozier, you utter shit, you desperate loud fucker. you passed me by when I first met you, a single line to my friends about how I liked the sweary one, but then, years later, fandom made me fall in love with you. I guard your insecurites as my own, but nonetheless your joy, found upon finally cherishing yourself amongst your found family of queer weirdos.

6. steven universe: pearl. you’re a powerhouse, sweetheart. I rember the days before the show progressed, how I used to think of this lowly servant who met the handsomest quartz soldier and how they fell in love and started a revolution hellbent in changing their world. a socialist revolution if you will, it was also the time I was just growing into my own and discovering that too. you still mean the world to me, beloved.

7. gravity falls: stan pines. I’m a mabel myself, and you’re still my favorite. you’re so full with love and loyalty, my darling, even as one must really look behind first sights. you’re entirely love, full to the bursting

8. scooby doo: daphne. for the longest time I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted to be you or gvdshabsnjikolpçfhdjioks. I would play pretend at being you before I had breakfast, tiny and dragging around bedsheets imagining it was the most incredible purple gown. I remember my mom telling me to just imagine, no need to make for more laundry.

9. hannibal: the primadonna himself. baby invented homoerotic muder as courting, being soft while covered in blood and also Pining, actually. random headcanon no one asked for but is getting anyway is that if they live or die after the cliff, that’s will’s choice to make. hannibal left alone for florence, and was miserable. let himself get caught because he couldn’t bear to leave without him again. he would be happy to just die by his side. after all, it’s beautiful.

10. the akallabeth (it’s not cheating if it can be found as a separate book, is it? bwejknqdiwjose): mairon. you might know him as sauron, an epithet meaning “the abhorred”, or even as gorthaur, “the cruel”. but that’s the name he gave himself, it means “admirable”, or even tar-mairon, meaning “king excellent”. babygirl has the range of the entire reputation album, as I sing along loudly to I did something bad and imagine it over and over as I picture the fall of numenor -- I never trust a narcisist, but they love me. can you imagine, arriving a despised prisioner, manipulating your way to giving counsel to the king, and then establishing yourself as the high priest of a religion in honor of your fallen husband? bitch is so messy and I am full of love.

well okay so I regularly talk to literally two people in this godforsaken site and one literally tagged me in this so I’m just gonna tag the other and then a bunch of beloved mutuals I keep seeing in my notes and hope they don’t mind me too badly so

@tediousdelusion, @soundfanatic, @marcato-meumew, @alllthequeenshorses, @sardonicsymphonic, 

#a few notes on Thoughts I had writing this #god I wish I could write as good as those bbys deserve #me realizing I put both izzy and pearl into the list: oh #canon can die a violent death please and thank you #is it really repeating a fandom if the characters also shows in lotr but not really? #mutuals please know I think of you as friends and smile every time I see you in my notes but you can 100% ignore this if you want to okay #oh damn I have taylor swift songs assigned to SO MANY of these blorbos feel free to message me about it

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1

Ding dong fannibals I’m back on my bullshit :) 

I discovered that I cannot for the life of me be concise so this one might come in a couple parts. I don't anticipate it's gonna go as long as Cult Girl but we'll see. Y/n is an introverted waitress at a fancy restaurant with a crush on a mysterious regular. An encounter with a dangerous criminal pulls her into his world.

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence; implied drug use; religiously-motivated violence.

In some ways, waitressing was the perfect job for an introvert. Customers didn’t see you as a person, they saw you as an NPC. As long as that was the case, you weren’t expected to engage with them beyond the script: you take their order, bring them the food and they, hopefully, leave a tip. To ensure that, you perfected the art of fake happiness. You were there to make money, not friends. 

Well, there was an exception to every rule. Yours was the sommelier. 

The sommelier was a regular at the restaurant, but never ordered a meal. He mostly just sat at the bar, drank expensive wine, and watched the people come and go for hours at a time. Among the waitstaff, he was a bit of a local cryptid. Waitresses whispered about the handsome gentleman with an unidentifiable accent and deep pockets. About how lucky you had to be to score a bartending shift on one of the nights he showed up. It got to the point where bartending shifts were swapped like currency, because every woman on staff wanted the chance to meet the sommelier. 

One of the more religious line chefs liked to remind you all that the devil would come as everything you could ever desire. He was fully convinced that the sommelier was Satan incarnate, and he wasn’t completely off the mark. Standing at six feet tall with features sharp enough to cut diamonds, the sommelier wouldn’t look out of place in a vampire thriller. He always dressed in dark suits. Your coworkers hypothesized this was so the bloodstains wouldn’t show. Despite the chef’s well-intended (if not condescending) warnings, even the threat of eternal damnation couldn’t scare you off. 

As much as you liked to believe you were above stupid workplace gossip, you knew you weren’t. You were never the most socially adept person, but this gave you something to connect over. It’s how you discovered that you and the other waitresses were all in the same boat; broke, lonely and in desperate need of some excitement. And if that came in the form of a wine-loving vampire taking a liking to your restaurant, there were certainly worse ways to go. 

Unfortunately, not even the chance at encountering the sommelier could make you look forward to working Easter Sunday. Your manager had you working from noon to midnight that day. As employers went, he wasn’t much of a tyrant. He offered you time and a half and even let you switch from waiting tables to bartending halfway through the shift. He, too, knew how coveted the bartending shifts were. And you weren’t in any position to refuse, either. You quite enjoyed having a roof over your head and food in your stomach. 

That didn’t make up for the fact that most of the other twenty-something employees had left for the holiday, and you were one of the few stragglers left available. Easter was the most dreaded workday of the year, because the infamous after-church crowd quadrupled in size and lasted all day. They came in double-digit parties, had no concept of birth control and tipped in prayer. Too many times had you reached for what looked like a generous cash tip, only to find that it was a church pamphlet disguised as a fifty.

You clocked in at noon exactly, after waiting for the second hand to pass the twelve just to be sure. 

“[F/N]!” Your coworker, Charissa, grabbed your attention before you could walk away. “I heard you’re at the bar this evening. Congratulations.” 

“He’s not going to show up, Charissa.” You rolled your eyes. You decided to go into this shift expecting the absolute worst, that way you wouldn’t be setting yourself up for disappointment. “It’s Easter.” 

“You don’t know that.” Charissa nudged you in the side. 

You grinned. “Why would a vampire come to dinner on the one day everyone is gonna be wearing a cross?” 

“Oh, shit, I didn’t think of that.” Charissa gasped. “Well, good luck anyway.”

The first wave of customers filing through the door and filling the restaurant with noise pushed all optimism out of your head. Sighing, you approached a person that Charissa had already seated. 

“Hi, my name is [F/N], I’ll be your server today.” You greeted the first customer in your block. “Can I get you something to drink today?” 

The man couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five, if that. He was still lively in a way that meant he hadn’t experienced the drain that was a minimum wage job. He was wearing a shirt that said ‘on fire for Christ’ under a flannel with no buttons. One look and you knew he wasn’t going to tip. 

The man flashed a row of eerily white teeth. “I thought you said you would bring the wine?” 

You momentarily thought you’d already taken his drink order and shook your head. “I’m sorry, did I--”

“Ah, I see your confusion.” The man shrugged and forced a laugh. “You’re waitressing this week, you and I are going on a date next week. My mistake.” 

Great. You thought. It hasn't even been five minutes and I'm already being gaslit.

Any interaction that forced you to go off-script was bad, but this was a particularly irritating diversion. “Would you like to see a wine list?”

“I’m Chase.” He said. “It’s nice to meet you, [F/N].” 

“Have you decided on a drink?” You repeated, trying not to grit your teeth too obviously. 

"I'll have a glass of your finest coke, please." He faked an English accent, poorly.

"We only carry Pepsi products." You said, dreading how this joker would react to such a minor inconvenience.

He threw his head back and made a face like he had just taken a bullet to the chest. "No, it's gotta be coke! It's coke or nothing!"

"Did you want something else, then?" You tried to hurry him along. "The bartender makes a very nice mimosa-"

He smacked the table as if he had some urgent question. "McDonald's or Chick-Fil-A? There is a right answer, so choose wisely."

"...uh," You mumbled, just praying that he would order a drink already. There wasn't even a Chick-fil-A in the area. "I like McDonald's."

Again, he acted like he was shot in the chest. "Oh, you're down zero to two!"

"If you need a few minutes to select a drink," You said. "I can come back-"

He grabbed your arm and forced a laugh. "I'm just kidding around with you, [F/N]. Pepsi is fine."

You scribbled the order down on your notepad, mostly just to pry your wrist from his grip. You wanted to go into the bathroom and scrub yourself down, but perhaps it was just easier to chop the whole arm off. That way you could get worker's compensation, too.

The tables were filling up and you had spent far too long coaxing a drink order out of this youth pastor creep. You had actual families to wait on. The shift was off to a horrible start.

You made him wait for as long as you could get away with. You took drink orders from three full booths before returning to the youth pastor. Because you knew he was raring to corner you again.

You planted the pop in front of him, the glass already wet with condensation. "Have you decided on a meal?"

"I was just looking over this menu and something caught my eye." He began, looking at the holiday menu your manager had printed off. "This rack of lamb, it's a special, right?"

"Right." You nodded. "It's a pretty large meal, though, so I'd recommend sharing it-"

"No, y'see.." he cut you off. "Jesus was the lamb of god. He died on the cross for your sins. And, look!"

He pointed to the menu. "It says it's a 'praying hands' lamb!"

"Oh!" You forced yet another smile. "I can see the confusion. That just refers to how the rack is arranged."

"I think it's a sign from god." He said.

You demonstrated the shape of the dish with your fingers. "See, the rib bones are long and the racks are Frenched, so the dish takes the shape of a pair of, well, praying hands."

"I'll take it." He nodded furiously.

He took a sharp breath in through his nose and you started to seriously wonder if his definition of "coke or nothing" had a double meaning. It formulated in your head as a joke, but it became more and more of a serious inquiry by the minute.

You leaned in just slightly to get a closer look at his face. Some details you hadn't noticed before were beginning to come into focus. His eyes were vacant and glassy. A small but noticeable stream of blood trickled from his nostril.

"Sir?" You said in a clear, projected voice. "Is there someone I could call for you?"

He turned his head. "Jesus died for your sins."

You looked around the room for any sign of your manager, a supervisor or anyone with a shred of authority. "This man needs help!"

In your haste to call attention to the situation, you didn't see him pick up his steak knife.

"You want to know what Jesus felt when you pierced him?" He muttered, just loud enough for your ears alone.

You felt the serrated knife puncture your skin before you had time to process his words. The pain shot through your body, making you freeze in place.

A chorus of screams filled the restaurant. Blood was pouring from the open wound in a quantity you didn't think possible. Underneath, the knife went straight through your hand and into the table.

The man gripped the handle and gave it a twist, a look of horrifying pleasure on his face. At this point, several people had stepped in to restrain him. He was tall and athletic and could easily overpower many of the other customers, which he did. He found another steak knife and began to cut throats while chanting an incomprehensible prayer.

An older woman claiming to be a doctor rushed to your side. She made a makeshift tourniquet from a napkin and a butter knife. Everything after that was a blur. You struggled to stay conscious as the woman tried to guide the knife from the table while keeping it embedded in your hand.

Soon enough, police and ambulances arrived on the scene. The woman placed you in the care of one of the many EMTs, then rushed away to assist the others.

"I'm just doing what Jesus says!" The youth pastor shouted, before gouging his knife into another man's throat. "Spreading his love!"

The officers notably didn't open fire and made an attempt to de-escalate. Maybe that was how the youth pastor was able to escape. 

#hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #tw religion #tw christianity #long form #tw customer service #tw blood #tw violence

[mostly-hannibal-memes]

Hannibal Fic Recommendation List - Mafia

Mafia fics

Back to Overview

The Man You Only Meet Once by HigherMagic Hannibal is a mob boss and Will is his silent attack dog that no one sees coming. Most of the people Hannibal deals with don’t meet Will, only hear about him. He’s the man you only meet once. "Chiyoh told me this one said he'd heard about me," he tells Hannibal, his voice low and rough. "They call me your pretty show dog. They think you just keep me around to use whenever you feel like it. If only they knew. If only they knew how desperate I can make you. If only they knew how hard you have to fight to keep me on my leash." Words: 8,092 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

A Beautiful Escape by EmilyElm Small-time gangster Will Graham falls hard for Hannibal Lecter at first sight, but he has the misfortune of dealing with the aftermath of Hannibal's affair with Bella Crawford. Framed for Jack Crawford's crimes, Hannibal will have to manipulate an escape from the BSHCI with Will's help and navigate how much of himself Will is allowed to see if they are to survive to paradise together. Will struggles to figure out where he stands with Hannibal, when he knows Bella is still out there, ready to take back what's hers. Words: 16,229 Chapters: 6/6 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Major Character Death

Nice Work, Boy by orphan_account, whiskeyandspite Boring man, boring job, boring life. It seemed the picture that he was perfectly content to present, even when his eyes slid up occasionally from his work and pinned themselves not quite heavily on Will Graham before returning quickly to the page, laying out lines in his precise, measured handwriting in the many ledgers of his father's many books. He could somehow keep the lines from crossing, and keep everything neat on paper, everything arranged just so. It might be the very uniformity of the tidiness that calls Will's attention to it, that wakes his desire to pull one string free and see how far it unravels. Gently. A request for an AU of Nice Work If You Can Get It :) Words: 4999 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Nice Work If You Can Get It by orphan_account, whiskeyandspite "I'm told we owe you some gratitude, Mr. Graham," Hannibal says, without any introduction. He doesn't suppose he needs much of one, though he wants to see how the man will bite in response to his effective block in the usual round of introductions. He held the door indicatively, suggesting by implication they should walk together. When they are alone, he might shoot the fed, or he might feed him. He hasn't decided quite yet the value of either notion. This started as a request prompt fill for the lovely cannibalismforbeginners on Tumblr, and grew - as prompts do between cognomen and I - into a monster. A mobster AU fic where Hannibal runs the biggest human trafficking ring in America, and Will is the new FBI agent sent to bring him down with a rico case. Hannibal knows who he is but plays along nonetheless, because he, in turn, wants something from Will.[we based this in Philadelphia in 1937. For a tentative timeline, chapter 1 takes place late November of 1936] THERE IS ALSO A TRAILER Words: 58,311 Chapters: 6/6 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Never Eat Alone by retroelectric Will Graham is fostered by Hannibal Lecter, an organised crime ringleader, after his father was murdered. When he turns eighteen, he is obliged to repay the man's favour by being involved in the web of crime and corruption, but he never expects the turn of events that reveal how truly distorted Hannibal Lecter's moral compass is. Words: 20,603 Chapters: 9/9 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Don't be a Square by AchillesLament (11Mydesign11), Destinyawakened, Identically_Different Mob man, Will Graham, is in for a surprise when his Boss, Bedelia Du Maurier, asks him to take her husband out for the evening while she's out of town. Words: 41,946 Chapters: 7/7 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

In for a penny, in for a pound by XCuteAsHale "The mission is simple, we need someone to go undercover and get into Lecter's crew. We need you to find an in and work yourself up the ladder. We've received information that there's a war coming in between Lecter and the Bratva, and I don't think I have to tell you that if that happens there's no containing all the casualties that will be the result, do I?"--When special agent Jack Crawford says jump, all Will Graham can do is ask how high. When he says "go infiltrate the Lithuanian mob without proper mission perimeter, or a proper way into the family", well, all Will Graham can do is try and keep his head above water. Words: 23,026 Chapters: 7/? Rating: Mature Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

#mafia fics #hannibal #hannibal fanfic #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fic recs #hannibal fanfic recs #hannibal fanfiction recs #hannigram #hannigram fics #hannigram fanfiction #different job fics

[salemwolfgang]

The Bed

Request: “‘There’s only 1 bed” Hannibal & Will obsessed with a fem reader.”

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Will Graham

Warning(s): Smut, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Slight Dom and Sub Tones, Spitting, Blow Jobs, and So So Soooo Much Fluff

A/N: It’s not as long as I originally intended but I’ll add more later when I find what I want to add. Also not entire proofread. I did read through it a few times but there could possibly still be mistakes and I’ll happily fix them later lol.

Two weeks ago, during a conversation with Hannibal, you mentioned how tired and stressed work had made you as of late. That following week he surprisingly  invited you on a trip to a cabin that he owned. He said it was further north and he usually went there a couple times throughout the year. You didn’t want to interrupt his free time but he insisted you go. He even said that ‘It would be a relaxing trip and the scenery was quite spectacular’. 

You mentioned the conversation to Will and he stated that the trip was offered to him as well. But he said that he’d only go if you did as well. The two of you decided to tell Hannibal that both of you would be delighted to go and he happily told you that he planned to leave on the fifteenth. 

The rest of the week was spent planning on what you’d pack, meal options, and any necessities that would be needed. When the day arrived you received a text from Will stating he and Hannibal were on their way to pick you up. Despite the cold that nipped at your skin, you decide to wait on your porch.

On the car ride there you ran through your list of items that you all packed twice, just to be sure that you had everything. You knew you had it all but it gave you something to do since you didn’t bring a book and your phone had no service. Hannibal wasn’t much for conversation and Will read a book that you believed was, The Measures Of Madness, which Hannibal had given to him as a gift last Christmas.

When the three of you arrived you all grabbed your luggage and headed into the cabin. Hannibal started making dinner while Will started a fire. You took everyone’s things to the back and went to put them in their rooms until you noticed that there was only one bedroom. 

“Uhh… Hannibal? Can I ask you something?” You asked as you walked back towards the kitchen.

Hannibal looked up from the carrots he was cutting and said,”Yes (Y/N)?”

“Where are the other beds? I tried looking and this place only seems to have one room…”

“Oh yes I must have forgotten. I’ve always come here alone so I never thought to have a cabin with multiple rooms that I didn’t need.” Something in his tone of voice hinted that he wasn’t telling the truth but you didn’t bother to question his response. 

“Okay, I guess I’ll just sleep on the couch.” You muttered. Not realizing that they had booth heard you.

Will said nothing but came out from the living room and walked to the bedroom. 

“Well, (Y/N), the bed seems big enough for the three of us. Why can’t we just share?” Will’s voice yelled out to you. And before you could say anything he added, “Plus the couch seems quite uncomfortable.”

Hannibal sneakily smiled and looked at you waiting for an answer. When nothing came out he said “Yes, it would be a shame if you couldn’t sleep properly while we were on our vacation. You must sleep with us, it seems to be the best option. At least try it for tonight and if you were to become to uncomfortable with it, you can sleep on the couch.”

After continuous bantering amongst the three of you on where you’d sleep, you finally agreed to sleep in the same bed. The two, grown might I add, men both made a small victory dance and you couldn’t help but giggle at their childish behavior. As the three of you ate you conversed about work, how fast the seasons seemed to change, and all recent news. At some point the topic of your love life was brought up. How exactly it came about was unclear to you but it had happened and there was no way out of it. 

“So are you...” Will cleared his throat and then continued, “interested in anyone?” 

You felt yourself begin to choke on your food at the suddenness of this question. When you managed to calm down your face noticeably heated up making the other two aware of your embarrassment. Neither made any remarks about it and waited patiently for your response.

“Well yes and no, it’s more like I’m interested in… multiple people but I highly doubt they’d care to know. I could never see myself possibly being with them, they’re too good for me. And I could never choose between them.”

Your response seemed to noticeably change something within Hannibal and Will. As you glanced up at them you could notice clear disdain on their faces. You frowned immediately afraid they had become disgusted by you and your lack of choosing between two people.

“Who are they? Is it someone from your work? Or possibly a friend of yours?” Will’s rapid fire questions surprised you. His tone let out that he was not angry at you but at whoever your “crushes” were. 

Hannibal reached out under the table and set a hand on your thigh. The grip he had made your stomach flutter and your cheeks felt warmer. He looked you in the eyes and without hesitating said, “You deserve to be cherished by whoever you desire.”

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Will stared at you with such an intensity you were afraid he’d burst at any moment. Luckily he didn’t and instead mentioned how late it was getting and that it was about time to ready yourselves for bed.

Hannibal released his grip on your thigh and began to collect his dirtied dishes, Will and yourself followed after him. You insisted that Hannibal was given the first shower since he had made the meal and then it was decided Will would go next and you last. 

As you stood within the shower thoughts of what had occurred over dinner began to make their way back into your head. You felt so embarrassed after what had happened. What if they knew of your crushes and were just teasing you? A new thought quickly made itself known and you caught yourself leading into it. It couldn’t really be true; no, there’s no way… but perhaps they liked you back? 

You had no more time to think of it because soon the water ran cold and you had to exit the shower. Quickly you got dressed and did your usual nightly routine afterwards you headed to your… shared bedroom, the thought still made your mind blank. It was too embarrassing to think about.

When you entered the room you were surprised to find Will fast asleep. You stared at him fondly then turned your gaze upon Hannibal. As expected he was laying with a book in his hand and a small glass of wine next to him. Before you walked any further it dawned upon you that the only available space was between the two men.

Pretending as if it did not bring butterflies to your stomach, you slowly crawled in to the surprisingly soft bed. Having no other option but to rest yourself in a slightly curled position against Hannibal’s side.

Without any warning you felt Will’s hands curl around your waist and his legs move up against yours. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact but tried to relax. Hannibal then placed as hand onto of your head and began brushing your hair softly with his fingers. You had no words to describe the unexpected bliss you currently felt at the moment.

Hannibal spoke, his tone soft yet authoritative as he whispered, ”You are to remain and belong to us, only us.”

You felt hot breath against your neck as a shockingly awake Will added on to Hannibal’s words. ”Your silly crushes will have to go away, no one else can have you but us.” He then softly kissed your neck and caressed your side.

Their sudden possessiveness made you blush madly. 

Hannibal closed his book then slid himself down slightly so that his face was next to yours. He reached a hand up and placed it on your cheek and caressed your face softly with his thumb. You held your breathe as he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You couldn’t help but to lean into it and you cupped his face to deepen it as you did. Hannibal took his time to part your lips slightly and move you more towards him.

As Hannibal distracted your upper half, Will began to caress your sides. His hands moved tenderly up and down your thighs and would occasionally dip between them. He let his fingers dance across your clothed area. He only stopped when he reached the edge of your underwear; he would tease you by pulling the fabric up slightly and snaked his hand between your flesh and thin panties. 

Your breath paused a moment and a soft hum left your parted lips when Will rubbed his fingers against your folds. Hannibal pressed himself against you and let out a groan as you pulled him closer. 

“She’s so needy for us.” Will taunted. The comment made you pout a little and Hannibal lips noticeably lifted in response. “Tell us what you want hun, we’ll give it to you, whatever you want just ask.”

You let out a whine at the though of using your words. It was just too embarrassing to truly tell them your desires but reluctantly you did as told. “I… I want you both inside me…” You hesitated before adding a quiet, “Please.”

“Oh so polite for us. What a good girl.” Hannibal whispered to you, more so to Will though. 

You let out a needy whine and pushed your hips both into Will’s hand and Hannibal’s hips.

“Let’s give our good girl what she so desperately wants.”

They both sat up and pulled you along with them. Quickly you undressed with them and then they had you lay your back against Will. His warm skin against yours caused you to sigh at the feeling. You almost became unaware of his length pressed against your back until you felt the tip’s precum wet your back slightly. The reminder had you drifting to thoughts of what it’d feel like to have it finally inside of you. 

Admits your distraction Hannibal had begun to crawl closer to the two of you. He brought you back to them by placing his hands onto your now bare thighs; drifting them upwards then spreading them. Once they spread he moved in closer.

Moving up he went past you and made his way to Will. He glanced down at your curious self and then moved to Will’s ear. He then began whispering low enough that you could not hear a single word and before you could even think of something to ask. Hannibal lifted his hands and grabbed a hold of Will’s jaw and roughly laid a kiss onto his lips.

Their tongues were pushed against one another and at some points a tongue would drift into one of their mouths. Will both visibly and physically showed his liking for the kiss by pushing into it and growing harder. He then let out a deep moan that caused his chest to vibrated against your back.

You could feel yourself become even more aroused and the wetness between your legs became more noticeable. You thought about reaching one of your hands down between your legs to pleasure yourself at the sight but found that Hannibal had beat you to it. One hand stayed on Will while the other made its way between your legs. He moved his fingers between your delicate folds, coating his fingers in your slickness. You loudly moaned at the contact and lifted your hips to give him more access.

When Hannibal deemed his fingers wet enough he slipped one within you and began thrusting it in and out before attempting to slowly work you up to two fingers. Your moans increased once he added a second and at that he curled his fingers slightly hitting a spot that had you’re hips pushing down on his hand for more. He then added in a third; at this point you were writhing beneath him, the warmth within your stomach quickly building. 

Just when you thought he was going to start bringing you to your climax he stopped and pulled them out. You let out a dissatisfied whine and opened your eyes to look up at him. A muffled chuckle could be heard from above and then Hannibal pull away from Will. He made his way back down to you before, in what could only be described as purring out, “Are you ready for your reward now songbird?”

You looked past Hannibal and up at Will in an almost questioning way. He nodded his head slightly as if he had known what you were asking when you yourself didn’t know. But at his sign of approval you looked back at Hannibal and  quickly nodded your head. 

At your sign of consent, Hannibal grabbed ahold of his length and made his way to your entrance. Before he put it in though he coated his head in your wetness and spit down onto your entrance. It was something you hadn’t expected but had you gasping out at the feeling. Once we deemed that he was lubricated enough, he pushed himself in.

Will ran his fingers within your hair and moved you up to kiss him; distracting you from any discomfort. His softness greatly balancing out Hannibal’s rough movements. His tongue lapped up any moan you let out and his fingers caressed your sides in a easing way.

At first his pace was slow until Will moved his hand down between your legs and gathered any of the liquids he could before teasingly circling two of his digits your sensitive clit. You cried out into his mouth and felt your legs jolt at the touch. And Hannibal took this as his queue to pick up his pace.

The heat inside you coiled more and more and you could feel yourself getting close. You started to relax your body more and your breathing slowed as well. You took in deep breathes, well as deep as you could with Will’s mouth on your’s, and felt your self give into the release. Your mouth fell open and you felt your body spasm slightly and your arms bent back and grabbed onto Will’s legs.

Hannibal slowly worked himself in and out after noticing the movements and pulsing inside of you. He moaned out as your squeezed around him and seemed to both push him out and suction him more. The contrast and feeling had him closer than he originally thought and as you came down from your high, his had grown nearer and nearer.

It was at this moment when he pulled out and began stroking himself at your entrance. His hand increase its speed and you watch as one of his hands spread your legs giving him more access. With a final groan he came onto you and ropes of cum leaked down your crevices.

As the two of you laid there breathing heavily you began to wonder what you’d do about Will. He was still hard against you and you could tell that you were to sensitive to go for a round two yet. Then an idea popped into your head that had you smiling coyly and caused you to slowly turn your body so you were now laying on him.

You leaned in and kissed him gently before you started to litter kisses all along his body. As you moved lower you would tenderly nip at his skin each caress of your teeth on his skin had him moaning quietly. Once you reached your desired destination you looked up at him from under your lashes. Eyes observing his every move to see if he was uncomfortable at all with this.

Seeing no signs of discomfort, you licked a long stripe from his base to the tip. Then you swirled your tongue around it, letting your saliva pool around him and drip down his shaft. Will set one of his hands on your head and braided his fingers into your hair. You allowed him to guide you down and you bob your head on him.

You felt movement behind you but didn’t think anything of it until a mouth connected to your now sensitive sex. Hannibal’s seemingly tongue mocked your motions and lapped up any of the mixed liquids he found. You surprisingly felt no discomfort from the delicate touches and even found yourself pushing down onto his face. Though for a moment you hesitated, thinking that’d you’d crush him if any further pressure was applied, but hands wrapped around your hips and pushed your down more.

Your moans sent vibrations through your mouth and onto Will’s cock. Eventually leading to an even louder response from the man above. He praised you when he wasn’t practically crying out. The praises were nothing wild but they were enough to make you feel light headed and adored. Your favorite phrase that he had muttered was most likely, “Holy fuck princess, you look and feel so good with your mouth around me. Just like the good girl you are.”

After a few minutes you noticed that he had begun to move your head faster and his hips began to lift, which you assumed was his attempt to get in deeper. You ended up gagging a few times and found yourself drooling, what felt like,  pools around him. Then suddenly the movements became sloppier and less controlled. At some point you gave up all control to him and instead focused on moving your hips more to get more pleasure out of Hannibal’s mouth.

You felt the familiar warmth inside your stomach coil and twist about and right as that feeling made itself known Will came hard inside your mouth. To your surprise, you ended up swallowing every ounce, not letting a single drop spill. And as you did so, your second orgasm ran through your body. Your muscles shook a little at another rush of euphoria.

Slowly you removed your sore jaw off of Will and pulled your hips up and off of Hannibal’s face. Strings of saliva stuck you two will for mere seconds before they broke and as you glanced up at Will you noticed his dark red face and giggled at the sight. You had never seen him more embarrassed from something then now. It was, somehow, quite adorable. 

You couldn’t help but reach up and place your hands on his warm cheeks and pull him in for a tender kiss. Something about the way you kissed him felt so sweet and pure, despite the sinful acts you three had committed. And you couldn’t find it in you to pull away. You stayed with your lips on his for a moment or two and then slowly separated. 

After a brief moment of silence and stillness, large hands made their way around you and wrapped themselves around your hands. With a seemingly no hesitation, they guided both you and Will back onto the bed. As you had moved down, you removed your hands from Will’s face and instead placed them around his arms and on his back.  

You pulled him closer to Hannibal and yourself and rested your head next to his chest. Your legs tangled with Hannibal’s and one of his hands reached out to set on Will. You had thought a bit about how natural all of this had seemed. It was quite odd that none of you had spoken yet but you said nothing about it.

And as your eyes slowly shut you whispered out a barely audible, “Goodnight.” and fell asleep before you could hear them mutter the same word.  

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slashers x you #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x you #x reader #x you #request