#AND the way hannibal was fucking smitten from the moment he spoke to will

[wannabemylover]

rewatching the first episode of Hannibal and holy shit I forgot how good this is but it's actually insane that Brian fuller set up the ep like this, he introduces will and Hannibal by first briefly showing them at their core, at the darkest, most vile part of them---we get a glimpse behind the curtain---and then its gone, the curtain is snapped shut and we see their masks, their human suits.

Will empathizes with killers because he likes it, and he wants to kill but he refuses to give into the urge because he knows how much he'll like it and he won't be able to stop. So he lives vicariously through other killers, satisfying his own dark urge by feeding it little morsels of secondhand blood lust. Every crime scene he works gives the urge something that satisfies it, not enough for it to grow, but enough for it be sate. Enough that he can ignore it for long enough that he can walk around and be Professor Will Graham who is Weird, Brash, and Non-sociable.

And Hannibal is a cannibal at night and a psychiatrist by morning.

#hannibal #hannigram #hanniblogging #hannigram brainrot is real #also ive watched the entirety of hannibal like four times and everytime i watch it i still find stuff to lose my mind over #brian fuller the brain that you have #winston my beloved #also plzzzz the way hannibal was just gonna kill jack with like no hesitation #AND the way hannibal was fucking smitten from the moment he spoke to will #like wills all like i hate eye contract its distracting as hell and hannibal is just looking at him like 😍😍😍 #plss you are embarrassing yourself #also question #when will was like how do you see me and hannibal said that shit about the mongoose and the snakes and will just looks at him like ???? #do yall think he was confused because he was genuinely like dude what the actual fuck are you saying #or because he understood it #and the woman at hobbs' work being like two guys from the fbi #and neither of them are technically from the fbi #just two insane dudes having a first date by larping an active fbi investigation #omg and when will shoots hobbs he realizes that oh fuck this is my chance this is my chance to kill and finally satisfy that dark urge #so after he shoots him once he just keeps shooting shooting shooting till its impossible for hobbs to survive for hobbs to be dead #till it was will that killed him

[victorineb]

Alana Finds Out: Twelfth Night

The lovely @ishxallxgood​ suggested that it would be entertaining if Alana discovered a suspiciously Will-like ornament (as featured top right of the banner above) amongst Hannibal’s Christmas decorations. Thank you for the idea and I hope you enjoy!

Also on AO3.

Alana glared at him. His stupid curls. His ridiculous puppy eyes. His perky little nipples. And as for those wings! Tacky as hell.

Alana was standing in Hannibal’s study, into which she had wandered after finishing stripping the ridiculously over-antlered tree in his foyer. She’d come over to help him dismantle his extensive Christmas decorations, Hannibal having insisted that they must come down before Twelfth Night. Alana wasn’t sure of the punishment for failing to meet this deadline (possibly Santa returned to take back all your presents for retroactive naughtiness) but Hannibal had promised lunch as reward, and she thought there was a good chance she could lure him into bed later, so she hadn’t hesitated to get in her car.

Now, as she held a rather large and completely tasteless ornament that bore an unmistakeable resemblance to one Will Graham (or at least a sparkly, half-naked, fairy-winged version of him) she was beginning to regret it.

She’d been surprised to find any decorations in here at all – it wasn’t a room guests were permitted to enter, and Hannibal seemed to keep the lights and ornaments to the public areas of his house. And the Will-fairy did seem so completely out of place, sitting atop the mantelpiece, that Alana had thought at first that someone must have left it as a prank. But as she looked closer, she could see that not only had it been placed with care, a space clearly made for it, but that it was perfectly positioned so that it could be seen by the person seated behind the desk. And as soon as she was hit by the image of Hannibal gazing moonily at this fantasy version of Will, she realised that it was the same look he always had on his face when talking to Will. Or looking at Will. Or occupying the same general space as Will.

Dammit.

Even after Will had tried to have him killed, it had been that same look: the twinkle in his eyes, the softness around them, the little smile at the corners of his mouth. Hannibal was utterly smitten, and pining away so earnestly he’d ignored his every aesthetic impulse and spent actual money on this hideous, chintzy monument to his crush.

Really, it was almost sickeningly cute.

She was pissed, of course, to have been used as some sort of… stand-in? But it wasn’t as if she wasn’t guilty of using Hannibal for comfort too, after the pain and stress of believing Will to be lost to them. But now he was out, and she’d been wondering why she and Hannibal were continuing this thing between them. The sex was good, sure, but her heart wasn’t really in it, and she’d always had the sneaking suspicion that Hannibal was holding back.

Which made sense, now.

Oh god, did that mean he was thinking about Will while…

As she tried to force down that horrifying thought, her irritation grew, and she snatched up the offending ornament and marched down to the kitchen where Hannibal was fussing over that promised lunch. Advancing upon the counter, she thrust fairy-Will right into Hannibal’s face and snapped, “What the hell is this, Hannibal?”

Hannibal blinked at her, slow like a cat, before an expression of mild bewilderment settled on his face. “Forgive me, Alana, I’m not sure I understand. I believe it is a Christmas ornament.”

“A Christmas ornament that just happens to bear a remarkable, if wildly unrealistic resemblance to the FBI’s pet empath. You and I both know Will doesn’t have a body like that.”

Hannibal suddenly snatched the ornament from Alana’s hands, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I truly have no idea what you’re talking about, Alana, but it is terribly rude to insult someone when they are not here to defend themselves. Besides which, I am sure Will looks perfectly pleasant without his clothes on.”

“Given that some consideration, have we?” Alana snarked, crossing her arms and watching incredulously as Hannibal began to stroke the Will-fairy’s hair.

“Not to mention,” Hannibal continued coldly, ignoring her question completely, “how extremely rude it is to wander the rooms of someone’s house uninvited.”

“Oh really? Because I think that pales in comparison to using one of your oldest friends as a sex substitute!”

They stared each other down for a full minute, Alana practically vibrating with rage as Hannibal continued to fondle his be-winged Will proxy. Then something in Hannibal seemed to deflate and he dropped his eyes to the counter, setting the ornament down in front of him.

“I must apologise to you, Alana. You are not and will never be a substitute for anyone. But I have not been honest, to you or myself.”

The sincere regret in Hannibal’s voice softened Alana’s anger immediately. “Hannibal… when did you buy that thing?”

“I… believe it was not long after Will’s imprisonment.”

“Uh-huh. And how much time have you spent staring at it instead of working?”

Hannibal hesitated, reaching out to pet the ornament again before catching himself and placing his hands flat against the counter. “I had to move it out of my office, it was distracting me during appointments.”

Alana stared at him and then burst out into laughter. “Oh dear, you’ve really got it bad, haven’t you?”

There was a smile tugging at the corners of Hannibal’s mouth. “I think, perhaps, I do.”

“Even after…” she gestured vaguely towards Hannibal’s wrists, “everything?”

A sly smile slid onto Hannibal’s face. “It is always good to know one has the attention of one’s beloved.”

“God, I always knew you were weird but…” Alana looked at Hannibal, considering. “Can lunch wait for a bit?”

Hannibal looked mildly disapproving for a second but relented with an only-slightly-put-upon, “It will keep reasonably well in the oven.”

“Good.” Alana grabbed his hand, pulled him round the counter and started in the direction of the living room, calling, “Don’t forget your boyfriend!” behind her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Hannibal snarl a little but snatch up fairy-Will as he went past.

Once they reached their destination, Alana shoved Hannibal gently into a sofa, ignoring his protests, and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She held her finger to her lips, shushing Hannibal who was watching her with a sort of tightly-held panic in his eyes. Which increased to outright terror when the call connected and she spoke.

“Hello, Will.”

“Alana? What’s going on?”

She arched an eyebrow at Hannibal, letting the corner of her mouth curl in a little smirk as she said, in a deadly serious tone, “I need you to come to Hannibal’s house.”

Hannibal’s mouth dropped open and he made to get up off the sofa but Alana planted her foot directly in the centre of his chest and shoved him back down again, only barely suppressing her laughter at the outraged expression on his face. Good day to wear pants.

Meanwhile, Will was objecting from the other end of the line. “Alana, why… what do you need me for? You don’t even want me going near Hannibal.”

Alana rolled her eyes and enunciated slowly for the benefit of the oblivious empath. “I need you. To come to Hannibal’s. Now.” And then, just to make damn sure the idiot fish took the bait: “He’s been acting… off. Not like himself today. He’s-”

And then she cut off both herself and the call.

“There, that ought to get his ass in gear.” She looked down at Hannibal. “And we’re broken up now, by the way.”

Hannibal was openly staring at her, seemingly stunned. After a moment, though, he tilted his head, scrutinising her carefully. “Do you intend some form of reckoning, Alana? Because if so, I must assure you that Will has no idea of my feelings, nor any inclination to reciprocate. He has done nothing to incur your wrath.”

Alana set herself down on the sofa next to him, leaned over, and flicked him on the nose. This caused Hannibal to do a perfect impression of an offended cat, right down to the way he scrunched up his face, and Alana spent several minutes giggling at him as a result. When she finally calmed down, she put her hand over Hannibal’s – who was pouting even more than usual – and rolled her eyes. “Come on, you can feed me lunch and tell me how long this little crush has been going on. And in return, I’ll tell you why I think you’re wrong about that whole reciprocation thing.”

Around an hour later, they were just finishing a rather illuminating lunch (which left Alana seriously questioning her observational skills), when the front door burst open and Will’s voice resounded through to them.

“Alana! Alana!”

“He just barges in without knocking?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Hannibal had the grace to look sheepish at the implication.

They both turned as Will rushed into the kitchen, a frantic expression on his face and one hand on his gun holster. Alana was impressed – she must really have been convincing on that phone call.

Slightly out of breath, Will skidded to a halt and stared, his eyes flicking between Alana and Hannibal, evidently trying to work out what the hell he was missing. Eventually, he grimaced and snarled out, “Ok, if this is some kind of weird couple-bonding activity, I don’t want anything to do with it and I will shoot anyone who insists.”

“We’re no longer a couple, actually,” Alana replied mildly, watching for Will’s response with interest (as was Hannibal, practically falling out of his seat leaning forward to hear).

Surprisingly, he didn’t immediately start screaming in frustration, but simply looked from one to the other with cool incredulity, his gaze lingering only a second too long on Hannibal. “Fine,” he said, finally. “So what, then, the fuck?”

“There’s something we need you to look at, in the living room,” Alana told him, rising to her feet and beginning to walk in that direction.

“O… kay. Don’t want to do the dishes first?”

“I believe they can wait,” Hannibal told him, voice a little weak, which drew a suspicious glance from Will (possibly more for the mess left behind than the voice). He followed along easily enough though, flanked by Alana in front and Hannibal behind.

As they entered the living room, Will let out a little bark of laughter as fairy-Will – seated carefully in the middle of the sofa – came into view. “The hell is that thing?” he asked incredulously.

Alana ignored the question and pointed at the seat to the left of mini-Will. “Sit,” she ordered Will, who quirked an eyebrow but obeyed without question. “And Hannibal, you sit there,” she added, pointing to the right cushion. Once both men were ensconced in a fairy-Will sandwich, she took the seat opposite them and gestured towards the offending ornament.

“I found him sitting in pride of place in Hannibal’s study. Any thoughts about that?”

Will, yet again, stared between Alana and Hannibal with a bewildered look on his face, but received no explanation in return. Finally, he looked back down at his miniature doppelganger and smirked.

“So, you want me to figure out who put it there? I’m really better with murderers than pranksters but I’ll give it a shot. I don’t suppose you’ll have had Price or Zeller over for dinner, because they’d be my first-”

“Nobody left it here,” Hannibal reprimanded him, albeit gently.

“Oh, so you…” Light dawned in Will’s eyes and he looked away from Hannibal, chastened. “It’s… very festive?” he added, weakly.

Alana threw her hands up and made a very pointedly exasperated noise. “Look closer, Will. Doesn’t it remind you of someone?”

Inevitably, instead of doing as suggested, Will did that thing with his eyebrows instead. Alana wondered if perhaps it was some rudimentary form of communication that came easier to him than words. She was just considering developing her own dialect consisting of picking up the fairy and beating Will about the head with it, when Hannibal gently lifted it and placed it in Will’s lap. They shared a glance and Alana rolled her eyes for possibly the thousandth time that day, before Will turned his attention to the ornament.

He traced a finger along its curls, unknowingly mirroring Hannibal’s touch. Hannibal himself was watching closely, his entire being seemingly focussed on and yearning for Will’s reaction.

Eventually – possibly encouraged by Alana’s none-too-subtle toe tapping – he carefully set fairy-Will on the floor by his feet and then dragged his eyes up to Hannibal, a blush colouring his cheeks.

“You bought this… brought this thing into your house… because it reminded you of me?”

Hannibal hesitated for a second and then purred, “In fact I find everything reminds me of you, dear Will. Rare is the moment you are not in my thoughts.”

“O-oh.” There was a pause, heavy with tension, and then a tiny smile appeared on Will’s face. “You know I don’t look like that without clothes, right?”

The noise that came out of Hannibal was one Alana had never heard him make before, nor anything remotely like it. It was almost a giggle, almost a whine, and Will looked equally as surprised by it until Hannibal leaned in and pressed their mouths together.

“Finally,” Alana muttered, averting her eyes a little. Or, attempting to: it became a little difficult not to stare when Will climbed into Hannibal’s lap and they both started moaning without any care for volume.

“Ok, you both are gross and it’s time for me to go.” She was reasonably certain neither of them heard her, given that Will seemed to be testing Hannibal’s reaction to hair-pulling (definitely favourable), and turned on her heel to leave. However, a thought struck her and she turned back to scoop fairy-Will up from the floor (carefully avoiding the bodies writhing on the sofa), and carried him out of the room with her.

“You’re coming with me, Will junior. You’re too young for that kind of party.”

#hannigram fic #hannibal fic #hannibal #hannigram #my fic #alana finds out #alana bloom #alana bloom is done with your hannigram nonsense