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salemwritesstuff · 11 months

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lachrymose

part I | part II

pairing: hannibal lecter x gn reader

pronouns: they/them

desc: meeting your new psychiatrist , hannibal lecter

trigger warnings: mentions of attempted sewerslide, mentions of self-destructive behavior/alcoholism/SH

w.c: 1,056

your boot tapped hurriedly against the tile, thumbnail between your teeth as you observed the area you waited in. the walls hung paintings, and the sofa you sat on was made of leather, damask sitting diagonally pillows on either side. on the far left, there was a leather chair and a wooden dresser, old books stacked atop the polished wood. at first, the aura the room produced made you think "old money", but now that you got a good look of your surroundings, you knew the doctor you were about to see had dignity, taste. expensive taste, from the looks of it.

the door opened, and out came a man, standing six feet tall donning a full black suit and maroon button up. you were right about his aura; there in the doorway, he stood tall, dignified, confident.

the corners of his lips pulled up in a small smile, and he moved to the side, arm motioning from you to the room. "come in."

you cleared your throat and stood from your seat, taking careful steps inside. his office bore shelves full of books, few paintings hanging on each wall. in the center was his desk, minimal and organized. in front were two brown leather chairs, about six feet apart from each other. like the waiting room and himself, it was tasteful.

he appeared in front of you. you nearly jumped from his sudden presence. "have a seat." he said, motioning for one of the leather seats. you did, and so did he.

"you're doctor hannibal lecter?" you asked, eyes scanning the room.

"yes." he answered simply. you could feel his eyes on you. he cleared his throat. "let's go over why you're here, shall we." it wasn't a question; it was a statement. you nodded.

"your doctor recommended you to me. would you like to say why?" he inquired. you looked at him, his eyes glued to the file in his lap.

"he says i need a support system." you told him.

"yes, i see that." he stated, looking up at you. "why does he say you need one."

you clicked your tongue, eyes flicking to the file. "is this necessary, doctor lecter."

"yes." he answered. "it is important that we go over the facts."

"you already have the facts. there, in your lap."

he nodded. "i want you to confirm them."

you cleared your throat. "he says i need one because..." you paused, tongue going dry. "because..." you closed your eyes, fingers lacing together. your boot tapped against the floor, and you wished then that it wasn't so hard to say. you'd gone over it in your head multiple times. "i tried to kill myself."

hannibal nodded. "it says here that you have a history of self-destructive behavior. alcoholism, drug use, self harm..." he looked up at you. "would you like to go over why?"

you shook your head, taking a deep breath. you peeled your eyes open, trying your best to look up at him.

"do you have a hard time with eye contact, y/n?" he asked.

"i have a hard time with any contact, honestly." you laughed, throat dry. your eyes meet the tiled floor. "it's hard for me to... be vulnerable like that."

hannibal nodded. his eyes were glued on you. you could feel them, a scratching feeling on your brain.

"tell me about yourself."

"there isn't much to tell."

"i disagree."

you looked up at him. "there isn't. everything about me is in that file of yours."

"everything about your disorder and medical history. nothing about you." he corrected. "what do you enjoy doing in your spare time?"

you shrugged. "i..." you sighed through your nose, looking at your hands. "i used to paint."

"used to?"

"i stopped when my mental health went downhill." you clicked your tongue. "i had no motivation. no muse, either."

"what was your muse?" you looked up at hannibal. then back down.

"she..." your voice shook. the noise of your doctor's pen was loud in your ears. your eyes shut tightly, tears burning them. "...was my mother."

hannibal's writing stilled. he looked up from his journal, eyes laying over you. "what was so special about your mother that made you want to immortalize her?"

you sighed, tongue in cheek. "when i was a child, i'd have bad meltdowns. maybe it was the noise, or textures... i wouldn't let anyone touch me... but, my mom..." you smiled gently. "...she'd get me my favorite stuffed animal, sit a few inches away from me, until i felt safe enough to crawl to her and let her hold me. and when i did, she'd hold me, and she'd hum a melody. sometimes, i'd ask her to sing, and she would." you looked up at him. "it was the medicine to my meltdowns, and was the only thing she could do to get me to go to sleep."

you looked back down at your hands. "that's the only good memory i have with her."

hannibal's eyes were still glued to you. "what makes that the only good memory?"

"because... every other memory i have with her... include her drinking, or yelling, or beating."

"beating who?" he asked. you looked up at him, and you finally let tears roll down your cheeks.

"me."

hannibal set his journal and the file aside. he watched as you cried, until you could barely think, and you found it hard to breathe. he got up, taking short strides until he stood in front of you. kneeling down, he reached for his handkerchief, pulling it from his suit jacket pocket and pressing its silk against your cheek.

you looked up at him through your lashes, watching as he dried your tears. his eyes meet yours, and the corners of his lips tug upwards subtly.

your eyes don't leave him as he stood and made way for his seat. it was quiet as he folded the fabric and slid it back into place in his suit jacket.

"you are my sunshine."

hannibal looked at you. "is that the song she sang to you?"

you nodded. "it was." you looked at the paintings hung up on the walls.

"why did you try to take your life, y/n?" he inquired. you looked back at him. giving him a sad smile, you answered,

"i wanted to join her."

———

a/n: i hope you enjoyed !! send me any requests/commissions you might have !!

#mads mikkelsen hannibal #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x male reader #hannibal lecter fic #hannibal fanfic #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal x male reader #hannibal x reader #angst #hannibal lecter angst

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detectivehannibal · 2 years

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The Noise and the Silence

Hannibal Lecter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Depression. Grief. Emotional distress. Angst.

A/N: After a long hiatus, I am back with Hannibal content. I’m trying something a little different. An angsty fic with no specific plot point so that *hopefully* it is a bit more applicable to the reader. I really would like some feedback to see how this was for you!

Word Count: 2.8k

“I feel confused....amongst other things.”

The pounding in your ears hadn’t stopped for weeks. The constant, repeated thud of your heartbeat playing in your head had been relentless. It was a loud drum, and if you sat unoccupied for too long, you would catch yourself beginning to count each thump. Oddly enough, there was another sound that seemed to be in competition with the steady booming of every rush of blood to your head.

It was the loudest of sounds, and a noise that you did not welcome with open arms. It was a silence so loud that it was close to painful. The ring of utter nothingness was beating away at your mind space to the point of near insanity. It seemed that had been your world for the last several weeks. It was either boisterous chatter, or complete emptiness.

To be honest, you weren’t quite sure which one you preferred.

Today was a silence day. The moment that your eyes had opened from your night of restless sleep, you knew what kind of day it was going to be. The silence days were different from the loud days. The silence days were slower, and they were much hazier than the loud. Silence days meant you were on constant autopilot. Everything that you did was purely muscle memory and basic functions that your brain had signaled every day of your entire life. There were no out of the ordinary or special tasks to switch up your day to day life. Silence days meant existing, but just barely.

The few words that you spoke on these kinds of days were hardly even comprehended by your own self, and what little conversation you were able to hold with others was forgotten just as quickly as it was had. It was lost to the fog that clouded your consciousness, and drowned by the sea of anguish that flooded your veins.

Loud days were different. Your awareness level was a tad clearer. There was some variety in these kinds of days. This meant getting up early and spending the entirety of the day running errands and completing a list of missions to check off your to do list. Loud days meant pushing yourself as far as your physical energy would allow. The “go go go” attitude kept you on your feet without rest. As long as you were busy and occupied, then it was a loud day. It usually ended with you crashing at the end of the day with hardly feeling accomplished in any way.

Your world had become so quiet, yet so roaring. Your life was categorized as feeling nothing and feeling everything -- and it was a lottery system as to which one you were going to get.

This wasn’t you.

You had become distant from yourself, you were a shell of yourself. The person that stood before your loved ones was merely an imposter. A stranger had infiltrated your body and was maneuvering it like a puppet. They had all reached out to you, offering their love and services to assist you in whatever you needed. Some of them had been shocked when you pushed them away, while others were unsurprised. You didn’t want the help. You refused it, in fact. So, there wasn’t much else they could do outside of leaving their offer on the table free for you to take.

Hannibal was the only one that you had welcomed to stay, but even then the invitation was hardly obvious. There was a battle between the noise and the silence, and you were caught in the middle of this tug-of-war. You had been drained of emotional and mental energy long ago. At this point, the opposing sides were fighting over a ghost of a human. Hannibal had watched you crumble and fall apart in the last several weeks. There was very little spirit and soul to be sought after at this point. At the end of the day, the winner would really have a whole bunch of nothing.

That was what Hannibal was most afraid of.

Hannibal wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself, but he was worried. He was terrified that you were close to having nothing left to cling onto. He feared that you would have nothing to build yourself back up with. Once you were completely chipped away, there was no coming back -- and that would be the end.

Hannibal didn’t worry about much of anything. He was as cool, calm, and collected as a person could possibly be. It made sense considering the kinds of habits that he was into. If he were to get nervous or any kind of variation of it, then he would slip up....and slipping up meant getting caught.

But this was a different kind of situation. You were a part of his life that was disconnected from the more sinister parts. You were the light that shined over the darkness, so in a way, he felt like he had a right to be concerned. He knew that you needed time and space. He had given you as much of it as he possibly could’ve without seeming as if he wasn’t there for you.

In the beginning, he had been there for every initial breakdown, meltdown, and sob fest that you erupted into. Looking back on it, that had been the easy part. He had comforted you as a lover, and guided you through the emotional storm as a man of psychiatry. He stayed up many sleepless nights with you when you couldn’t settle down enough to fall asleep. He soothed every sense of panic and anxiety with ease.

He had not once taken the curt words and the lack of any kind of affection personally. The distraction of your heart was clear to him, and he knew that your reluctance to offer him any kind of attention was not intentional.

He wanted to do nothing more than support you through this process. He was there for you at every step of the initial impact, and after a while, he thought that you were getting better.

He observed you carefully, never once letting himself get too comfortable. The intense emotions ceased, and you began to somewhat return to a day-to-day routine. Suddenly, you weren’t reacting or talking about it at all. Your demeanor had completely shut off from the life that you had around you. It was as if your brain had stopped processing the incident completely.

And that was when he knew that you were actually getting worse.

Hannibal partially blamed himself for your deteriorating state. He was a licensed professional who dealt with this sort of mental fragility every single day. He knew the signs, and he could identify them in his sleep. He found himself wondering if there was something that he could’ve done differently. Was there something that he could’ve said that he didn’t already? Had he not utilized enough of his attentiveness and patience? All kinds of questions had crossed his mind, and none of them had been answered.

He knew that dwelling on what he could’ve done then would only get in the way of what he could do now. He had to do something now, or else he feared he’d lose you completely.

****

It was a bitterly cold February night in Baltimore, Maryland. It had been an abnormally frosty winter, which was alarming considering that the winters in Maryland were already very wintery. Despite the frigid temperature, it hadn’t deterred you from taking yourself to the back deck of your and Hannibal’s home to sit in the open air. The house had been your safe zone for all these weeks that had gone by, but now it was beginning to feel more like a nest of misery that you had created for yourself.

The porch was cold underneath you from where you sat on the top step. In all honesty, you had hardly even noticed it. A little chill wasn’t going to rattle you enough to matter.

Your attention was focused on the inky black canvas painted above you. It was dotted and speckled with glittery stars from one end of the horizon to the other. It was the clearest night that you could imagine. There wasn’t a single flaw or imperfection to taint the night sky that you were so infatuated with. In any other time or circumstance, you’d find joy in this scene in front of you.

But not now.

You weren’t sure what you were looking for in that black ocean rolling over you. There weren’t any answers to your questions bouncing around up there. In reality though, you really only had one real question. Over the course of your life, you felt as if you had never gotten a good answer to the age-old question of “why?”. It’s the simplest, yet most complex question in the universe of human language. It seemed rare that anyone ever had a satisfying answer for it.

You hadn’t gotten any real answers or resolutions yet, and tonight was proving to be no different. Just another silence day had come to a fateful end. Nothing had changed. Everything was the exact same.

You exhaled a long breath -- the kind that sank your shoulders to their lowest physical point. The rush of air that escaped from the depths of your lungs was transformed into a white condensed cloud that dispersed into the environment just as fast as it had formed. Sometimes you wished that would happen to you. Exist for a moment, and then vanish into nothing. Nothing lost, and nothing earned.

Your head lowered behind your knees that were bunched against your chest. Just your eyes and the top of your head were visible from the bundle of a shell that you had made for yourself. Your lashes fluttered each time you blinked, and every time that your vision returned upon reopening your eyes, you were met with the same starry sky.

There was a brief commotion from the door behind you that connected to the house. The sliding glass door rolled open, and a figure stepped out onto the porch before returning it shut. The footsteps of this person approached from behind, and they were familiar to your ears that were now cut with sound again. You knew those heavy, slow footfalls anywhere.

An immediate rush of warmth and security flooded your senses when a blanket was wrapped around you securely, covering any exposed skin on your body from the harsh wintery cold around you.

“Darling, it’s freezing tonight,” Hannibal remarked, his accent thick as he spoke. “I would hate for you to fall ill.”

An extra layer of warmth was added when Hannibal joined you in sitting on the top step. His body heat was much more than yours as his radiated to you through the thickness of the blanket. It was greatly appreciated, because you hadn’t realized how cold you had actually become.

“I’m okay.” You returned without offering any more of a ticket to a real conversation.

Hannibal didn’t mind the quiet. He had always said that a huge part of successful therapy is being able to sit in silence to allow a patient to sit with their feelings. Silence allowed time for self-reading and understanding, which Hannibal was all for. However, he didn’t like this silence. This silence wasn’t the good kind.

His feet were planted on the second step rather than the first. His lanky legs would be too crammed if they were bunched up at his own chest. His hands were clasped together in the open space between his knees, his forearms resting on his thighs as he scanned over the back of his estate.

The garden and backyard always looked so depressing during the winter months. In its own way, it was beautiful -- but he much preferred enjoying the grounds during the spring and summer. His vision didn’t remain on the landscape long, however. His sight eventually diverted to you, which was what he was more interested in.

He saw the way the stars twinkling above reflected off of the glassy sheen over your ears. Those very same stars above were the ones that he often described as being trapped behind your eyes with the way that they stunned him when he looked into them. It hurt his heart to know that it had been far too long since he had seen those dancing stars in your eyes. He missed that.

He missed you. He wanted you back.

“I’m aware that reminding you of this isn’t necessary....but wishing on a star won’t change what happened.” Hannibal’s words broke the still beats that had passed and disappeared into the past.

His voice wasn’t cruel or unsympathetic. Just the opposite actually. He knew where you were right now, and what you were feeling.

“I know.” You answered, the hurt dripping off of your words.

The desperation for relief to be delivered to your heart was unlike anything you had ever experienced in your life. It was a pressure in your chest that damn near made it impossible to focus or feel anything else. It was so beyond uncomfortable. It was inescapable no matter what you did to try to get away from it. It had seeped through you and over you to the point where you weren’t even sure who you were anymore.

How were you supposed to live like that?

“No one in your life, including myself, expects anything from you right now,” He went on once he got the sense that you were warming up to talking. “No one expects you to be okay. It’s a vanilla statement, but it’s alright if you’re not okay.”

He knew that you weren’t okay. Everybody knew. Hannibal never wanted to tell you (or anyone for that matter) what they were. He wanted them to figure it out, and for them to come to the realization on their own.

Because that’s where real, fruitful healing came from.

“I feel confused....amongst other things.” You confessed.

He felt a spark of hope. This was good. This was progress.

“Understandable. You’re navigating a rather bewildering path.” He encouraged you to keep talking.

He wanted you to get better. He wanted to see you thrive and be the happiest that you could ever be. This was the first time in the weeks that had passed that you sounded like you wanted that too.

“I just....I just don’t know what to do.” You answered with full transparency, a crack sneaking into your sentence as you turned to look at him.

Tears had formed and come forth in your eyes. It hurt him to see it, but in a way it was a relief because he knew that you were feeling something.

“You don’t have to know. It’s more than acceptable to take each day minute by minute,” Hannibal shifted closer, taking a bit of an initiative to wrap his arm around you and pull you into him. “But this? When you keep it to yourself, it only makes it worse and pulls you down with it.”

He was right. You knew it. You weren’t going to get better by not dealing with it at all. Moving on without attempting to patch the wound would only come back to haunt you later. You wanted to do this right. You needed to do this right.

“I feel too far gone. I don’t know if I can ever feel okay again.” You admitted, double lines of tears streaming your face as they left a stinging chill on your cheeks.

“You can. You absolutely can,” He encouraged, even a little bit desperately. “I can refer you to someone. Someone who can professionally help you.”

That statement brought a sound out of you that Hannibal had been longing for so dearly. As weak as it was, hearing you laugh brought a firework of joy exploding into his chest.

“Are you saying that you no longer wish to psychoanalyze me?” You joked, and he returned a smile.

“I want to be here for you in whatever way you wish. Just say the word and consider it done.” He said.

Your first request actually surprised him a bit. He had expected you to play shy and turn down his offer or even ask for more advice. Instead, you asked for something much sweeter and much needed.

“Kiss me?”

And kiss you he did. It was the most uplifting, comforting kiss that he’d ever given you. It spoke a thousand words and pumped him full of more hope with each passing second. You were going to be okay. You’d be happy once again and you’d be stronger than you ever were. He’d be back to throwing flour on you when he cooked meals and chasing after you around the house dripping wet and naked after you stole his towel from the bathroom counter.

Life was going to return to the way it was. He was going to be able to love the woman that he loved so dearly even harder now. You were going to come back to him. He had all the patience in the world waiting for that.

Because you were worth everything.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x fem! reader #hannibal lecter x female reader #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x y/n #hannibal lecter oneshot #hannibal lecter oneshots #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter fluff #hannibal lecter angst #hannibal lecter fanfiction #Hannibal TV #hannibal nbc #detectivehannibal

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writethrough · 11 months

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hi!! i wanna know about your WIP’s!! 🗣️ and 💗 please and thank you!! :)))

Hello, my love! Thank you for asking!

🗣️Talk about your favorite WIP.

I could give the basic answer and say the one I'm working on at this moment is my favorite (an Evan Buckley fic). But I won't do that to you. My favorite WIP is one I currently have titled "The Evolution of Us."

It's a Billy fic. Slow burn, but he falls first. And I have this idea that "Fall for Me" by Sleep Token is the overall vibe I want it to have.

And the most important part is, I barely have anything written for it.😬

💗Is there a scene you can't wait to write for a WIP?

One that I'm really excited to write is for a different Billy fic where the reader and him reunite after Reader distances herself from him.

Another is for this Vampire!Hannibal idea I have where Reader busts into this big vampire meeting in need of Hannibal's help. And Hannibal has to settle his people and he agrees to talk with the reader.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #sleep token #fall for me sleep token #Evan Buckley #Evan Buckley fluff #Evan Buckley angst #hannibal #Hannibal fluff #Hannibal angst #Hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter fluff #Hannibal lecter angst

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stupidcopper · 3 months

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dont think i never noticed hannibal wasnt wearing as many constricting suits after that little murder attempt

i like to imagine he did it partly to keep up a vulnerable demeanor despite not really being all that bothered,,, but secretly he revels in his body's involuntary reactions to the physical trauma will has indirectly caused (it just shows how much will was coming into his own)

#this is not angst #that bitch deserved it #hannibal lecter #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal fanart #mads mikkelsen #stupidcopperart

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calummss · 6 months

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Mads Mikkelsen Headcanon: Dating A Younger Woman Would Include

masterlist

the age gap i'm thinking of is 20-35 years, so if it makes you uncomfortable do not read!

you would probably meet randomly at a park, both of you walking alone and bumping into each other

let’s add the cliché where one of you is holding a cup of coffee and it goes everywhere, staining the two of you

instead of glares or words of anger, you both chuckle at each other and laugh, apologising with grins on your face

he offers you some money for new clothes but you deny

you start to talk and realise similar interest and it all kind of comes naturally

both of you had intentions of frienly acquaintances but slowly evolved into friends that went out for dinner or drink every couple of months

i feel like you would be the first to fall for him

you knew that he was significantly older than you but your heart saw right past that

mads never brought up the topic because he thought it would be weird and didn’t want to destroy the newly friendship

but one day you were bold enough to ask him if he thought of you more as a friend

he stumbled over his words a few times but ultimately admitted his affection for you

you kissed him to let him know you felt the same way

secretly knowing that mads was an actor, you approached the relationship carefully, always making sure that you were alone or not as seen to avoid paparazzi

which did not work because 5 months into the relationship a famous paparazzi released the pictures because he knew the age difference would cause a scandal

and you were right

newsites, twitter, every social media app was talking about it; his fans especially where halved. some backing up the relationship, others not

the two of you pulled away even more and stayed in his home in denmark

your parents contacted you after seeing you on the internet

they were weirded out who am i kidding?

they met him and talked

realised that you are in love and couldn’t really disagree because you’re both consenting adults but it took them a while to get adjusted

you spent the next couple of months doings various things:

baking (your mother’s blueberry and raspberry chocolate muffins)

walks in the park

snuggling up on the couch watching throwback movies

dancing to songs

your favourite being i wanna be yours by arctic monkey

and your favourite activity was mads bringing you breakfast to bed…

when everything died around your dating scandal, you slowly started to go out into the world again

mads bringing you as a date to an award show where he mentioned you in his winning speech

your relationship faces ups and downs but you know that it was meant to be

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softieekayy · 6 months

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In the dark of the Night

Hannibal x vampire!reader

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: the reader is characterized with having a mole under her left/right eye and brown/black hair. (She also comes from greek origins and I sincerely hope I don’t offend anyone.) reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🧸

Biologically, vampires were impossible. Their immortality and survival on blood didn’t make any sense, in the scientific and medical sense. At least that’s what Hannibal Lecter believed for the majority of his life. Until he stumbled upon one, in the dark of the night where in an alley there stood a creature of the night, blood thirsty, sucking on the neck of a lifeless man.

Hannibal paused, he didn’t know if it was in shock or intrigue, perhaps it was a mix of both. But at this moment, he didn’t care what it was. He was taken so dearly by this bewitching creature. Oftentimes, he wondered what vampires looked like, in his head, they were ugly beings with protruding teeth and rotten grayish flesh from the lack of sun. Not once in his life did Hannibal ever think that they’d be so beautiful. This woman who stood in front of him was bewitching with hair that cascaded beautifully down her back in perfectly done curls and makeup done with perfection and down to the outfit she wore. She was perfection.

“I wonder if I should let you live or die.” The woman in front of Hannibal smirked, snapping him out of his momentarily trace while discarding the corpse as though he was nothing. To her, he was nothing more than a blood bag. Hannibal noticed her fangs, sharp canines that looked nothing out of the normal.

“I believe my death will bring you peace for your secret.” Hannibal responded breathlessly, stil so taken by the beauty in front of him. He watched as she moved fluidly, quick and fast, he observed how the moonlight beamed on her skin making her look ethereal. In a quick moment, she was in front of him, gripping his chin between her fingers as she observed. Hannibal didn’t know why nor did he care why but his breath hitched, not allowing air flow to get to his lungs. He couldn’t breathe but he didn’t care to, if he could die in this moment, he’d die a happy man. Death at the hands of a death Angel.

“I can hear your heart, are you scared?” The woman whispered in his ear, giving a slight lick on the shell of his ear as she huffed out a small laugh.

She pulled back, watching him curiously.

Something about him drew her to him. She didn’t want to kill him. However, her soul was drawn to his, something that she could tell was as old as she was. Older than life itself.

“Do as you please.” Hannibal whispered, closing his eyes, awaiting his death. Upon feeling nothing, Hannibal was confused, he wondered why she didn’t kill him. He opened his eyes, eyes that were the colour of rum and a slight tinge of maroon, eyes that held warmth hurried deep within. The woman in front of him was observing him, similar to a cat observing its prey, her blood stained mouth pulled into a slight frown.

She took one step forward, sauntering like a cat and in a moment, before Hannibal had known what happened, she stood next to his ear, whispering “Find me when you have time, we need to have a long chat.” Before leaving a small kiss on his jaw, leaving behind a red lipstick print, the only thing he’d have to hold on to for a long while.

Time passed quickly and before Hannibal knew, it had been decades since he’d seen the beautiful beast in that dark alley. He was a young boy then but a grown man now and somewhere deep in his soul, he missed her. He didn’t understand why and he won’t for a while, fate has decided to play a cruel game on him. He still remembers the inquisitive look that she held in her eyes and the way the moonlight made her look like an angel from the highest of heavens.

Even as he stood now, in the dark street, his face being lit by the moon, he thought of her.

His eyes were closed and his head tilted up, as if he was long awaiting death. She thought he looked like a fallen angel, craving for the touch of heaven again. Unbeknownst to him, the immortal beauty had been keeping up on him. She watched him grow from a 20 year old boy in medical school to the man he was now. A beautiful man with the appetite for something so dark.

“Hmm, you look as delectable as the night I met you.” She hummed, voicing her thoughts. Hannibal snapped his eyes open, looking towards her direction, bewilderment coating his face. Calling her a young woman would be quite the irony for she was as old as time itself.

She sauntered forward like a fox, her black lace skirt flowing down her legs seamlessly, lips stretching into a foxy smile with fangs protruding onto wine red lips. Even at night she dressed like a beauty and Hannibal could not stop staring at her, his soul wanted her, no, it craved her.

“You’ve developed quite the palette, love. A very interesting one at that.” She told him, leaning against the wall, a respectable distance still between them.

“You told me that we’d talk when I find you, it seems that you’ve found me instead.” Hannibal mused, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“It seems that I did.” She smiled up at Hannibal and he smiled in return. He may not know her in this lifetime, but their souls are well versed, knowing every inch of one another. The two walked forward to each other, two hunters coming together for the hunt of a lifetime.

“I believe we can have that talk now.” She told Hannibal, her lips almost brushing his own as their noses touched. Hannibal hummed in slight agreement.

“I believe that we can do the talking later.” He told her before kissing her, his lips twisting with hers in a passion that cannot be recreated. His hand gripping the back of her neck as her hands gripped Hannibal’s shirt, in an almost desperate manner.

She pulled back, giving Hannibal the chance to catch his breath, she didn’t need to breathe.

“Oh my dearest heart, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” The young woman told him, laughing a little when Hannibal pulled her close to his chest, resting his cheek on her head laughing a bit as well.

“So tell me now, why is it that you never killed me back then.” Hannibal asked her, leading her into his home and looking back at her. Despite the way her beautiful eyes glimmered in the warm light, they held a deep sadness within them.

“I’ve lived a long long life, my love.” She told Hannibal, caressing his cheek as she smiled. Hannibal leaned into her touch, wanting more.

“I’m here to listen to your pain.” He told her, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Her body wasn’t warm, it hasn’t been for over a thousand years. It was cold, like a dead one.

“I was born in 487, in Ancient Greece, during the Hellenistic period, I was a priestess of the great goddess Artemis, a goddess of the hunt. A young woman who was to spend the rest of her days living in the temple of the goddess. Of course, back then I hadn’t known what life would hold for me. I was young and naive, wanting to help anyone who came to the Goddess’ temple.” She told Hannibal, her eyes closed and head tilted back as she reminisced the days of her early youth. Even though it had been over 2,400 years ago, she remembered it clearly.

Hannibal observed her closely, her hair that was once up nearly now lay in curls down her back as one hand held a glass of red wine he had kindly poured for them. Her nails were long and sharp, like claws but nothing out of fashion. She truly looked like a temptress, and maybe, just maybe, many stories of vampires being beautiful stemmed from her.

“There was this one night, it was cold and rainy all day, an indication that a storm was about to come. Many thought that the great god Zeus was upset hence why everyone stayed home that day. Women that came to pray for their daughters didn’t come, pregnant ladies hoping for a safe birth didn’t come and men who prayed for a good hunt did not come.” The old vampire told Hannibal and to him, it seemed like a myth. Her life, her humanity was so long ago that it seemed impossible to Hannibal yet it was. She was living proof of it.

“Yet there was this man who came, seeking shelter in the temple.” Hannibal listened to his companion continue her story.

“A young man in his 30’s I assumed. But he was beautiful, more beautiful than any creature I had ever seen. His hair was long and blonde and he was dressed in the richest of robes. I, being the young lady I was, allowed him in. I trusted him, fed him and gave him shelter from the rain. And he betrayed me.” She told Hannibal, the glass that she had been now shattered as broken shards embedded themselves into her skin.

Quickly Hannibal took her hand, eyeing for any injuries yet finding none.

“Are you hurt, my dear.” He asked her and she simply pulled her hand away before shaking her head no.

“What happened? What did this man do to you?” The older man asked her, running his hands through his slowly graying hair, worried about what she might say next.

“He betrayed me. That night, after feeding him and giving him a place to sleep, I went to pray to the goddess, to pray for the safety of my community and the children and for the families to never starve. I was just setting up her altar after praying when he attacked me. A growling creature with teeth as sharp as a sword and glowing red eyes, he turned to me and smiled and said “you’re a stupid little lamb aren’t you. Letting strangers you don’t know into your sanctuary.” Those words were the last I heard before searing pain and finally, darkness.” She sighed deeply, as if she had just breathed out the pain she held in her heart.

Hannibal felt pain for her and the way her life ended. She may be alive but she’s a walking corpse, she doesn’t breathe nor does she sleep. She’s not warm and she’s not alive. There’s no beating heart in her body.

“What about your family?” Hannibal asked her, making her smile slightly and look up at him, she stood up and walked over to him, running her hand through his hair and Hannibal leaned into her touch like a cat.

“I believe they simply thought I died in the storm, and I believed that it was best for them to believe that. My sister went on to have kids and so did my brother. However, my mother and father never really moved on from losing me.” The old vampire told Hannibal, and he nodded, understanding her reasoning for not going back.

“Come my love, you have work tomorrow and I have things to do.” The brunette told him, leading Hannibal up the stairs to his room and he followed behind her as if in a trance. Once reaching his room, he took out his nightwear and sat it on the dresser as the young woman watched.

“Are you going to leave again?” He asked her, not recognizing the voice that came out of him. He sounded like a small boy asking for someone to stay. He sounded pathetic to himself.

“Only to get my stuff. Unless you’d like me to leave.” The young woman winked towards the end of the sentence and laughed. Hannibal laughed when he came up to her and leaning down to her level, he placed a kiss on her lips and she returned it with just as much passion.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She told him after pulling back from the kiss, and kissed his cheek.

Their one morning turned into another and another and sooner than later, they moved in momentum. One could not function without the other, a flowing river.

Hanniabl proposing to her wasn’t very secretive, he did it in their kitchen, while she marked work of her students, the pair had decided to settle in Baltimore, Maryland where Hannibal worked as a psychiatrist and his wife as a teacher. She always had a thing for children and teaching. Unfortunately due to her being physically dead, she could not have any children of her own.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?” Hannibal asked her one day, not bothering to look up from the veggies he was cutting. His lover smiled at him, putting her hand under her chin in faux thought, fangs poking her cherry lips.

“I have never really thought of it. I’ve had lovers, yes, I’ve been a mistress and everything in between yet I have never thought of marriage. Why do you ask?” The smile never left her face as her attention was fully directed towards Hannibal. She sat up straight, dark hair cascading down her back in Hollywood curls as she crossed her legs one over the other before pulling up the sleeves of her sweater.

“If you’ve had lovers, you never thought of marriage?” Hannibal questioned, a small hint of laughter in his voice. He looked up at her, hair disheveled from the long day he’d spent with patients.

“They were lovers, not someone I’d consider spending the rest of my life with.” She told Hannibal in a nonchalant tone. Her eyes held warmth when she looked at Hannibal, he noticed the way her body lost its rigid posture around him and the way she let herself become more loose.

“Would you marry me?” Hannibal dropped the question, his breath hitching in his throat while he anticipated her answer. Anything other than a yes would kill him, physically and emotionally.

“Without a doubt.” The dark haired woman told him as she hopped down from her place at the kitchen bar and made her way towards Hannibal. He looked over his shoulder at her, smiling at her.

“If you’d said anything other than a no, I think I would’ve died.” Hannibal told her, standing up to his full height, towering over his lover. He pulled her into his embrace as she rested her hands on his chest, looking up at Hannibal with a love drunk look on her face.

“When should we start planning?” She asked him, elated beyond means yet not letting an ounce of it slip through her voice. Hannibal let out a laugh before bending down to kiss her passionately.

“You can do the planning, I can assure you that money will be no issue.” Hannibal informed her as he went back to continuing their dinner.

“Sweetheart, I've more than enough money to last us for generations. I’ve been alive for so long and many of my lovers have transferred their assets to me as well. So yes, I agree, money will be no issue.” She laughed and Hannibal laughed with her.

It was not long after this dinner that the wedding planning began.

(Y/n) had a famous dressmaker that she had turned into her kind to forever make her dresses. A polish woman by the name of Olg, a fiesty woman. No matter how grumpy she may seem, the older woman had always thought of the brunette as her own daughter ever since she lost her own.

“Olga! It’s good to see you!” The young woman greeted the older lady with a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek. The older one returned the hug before pushing her back to take her in.

“Still the mournful colours you wear. Reds and blacks and grays. I see that nothing has changed.” Olga told (Y/n) with a distasteful tone. The younger one never listened to Olga when she told her to wear more colourful clothes. The only colours she had in her pallet were blue and red.

(Y/n) laughed fondly before hugging the old lady again and dragging her to the car. The ride home was filled with chatter about everything and nothing. Olga pestered the brunette about Hannibal and to know more about him. She was excited, her daughter, not by blood, finally found love within her life. Someone whose eyes light up when she enters the room and the one person who looks at her as if she hung the stars specifically for him.

“Have you thought about wedding dress fabrics?” (Y/n) hummed in thoughts the question. When she was born, it was a plain white fabric wrapped around you. Although she was very fond of the dresses that were worn in the 1800’s. The puffy dress with off the shoulder sleeves, ugh, (y/n) loved them so much. She liked to think that they were the height of fashion, Olga liked to disagree.

The ride home went by faster than the two ladies expected yet they were not disappointed. Olga was happy to be here to judge the groom in person.

“Do you smell that?” (Y/n) sniffed the air, smiling as she straightened out her dress and fixed her hair before bending down to pet Lucius, a fluffy black cat that wandered the grounds of the Lecter home. Olga indeed did smell that, she smelt meat with a tinge of blood and she was absolutely starving.

While the young brunette cooed at the cat who was now spread out on his back, Olga examined her surroundings. The home was nice and modern, it was a large home with a glass front.

“Do you like it?” (Y/n) asked Olga before guiding her into the home. It was just as beautiful on the inside with a blue coded interior.

“Hm, it’s quite nice. However it compares nothing to the estate that one Lord gave you. Madly in love, he was.” Olga reminisced, pointing her finger at the younger woman who laughed boisterously. The younger woman led Olga into the kitchen where Hannibal was just finishing up the dinner.

“Oh hello, my love.” Hannibal perked up at the greeting before turning around to greet his wife to be. (Y/n) kissed him on the jaw and hugged him and he returned the hug.

“Hello Angel.” Hannibal smiled, caressing her cheek before kissing it in greeting. (Y/n) pulled back before walking back to Olga and introducing her.

“Hans, this is Olga, my mother in all but blood.” (Y/n) enthusiastically introduced the older woman who was busy sizing up the tall man. He had charm and was good looking. He could also cook. However, all that mattered was that he loved her daughter and that she loved him.

“It's a great pleasure to finally meet you, (y/n) has spoken greatly of you.” Hannibal smiles at the woman who nods slightly at him in acknowledgement. He gestured for all of them to take a seat and they did, Hannibal sitting at the head of the table with his fiancee on the right and Olga on his left. Dinner was a silent deal, Olga didn’t know how to feel. There were many times in the past where (y/n) had come close to marrying yet never did. She only hoped that this couple would last for eternity and beyond. Olga knew deep down that it will, she could see it in the way they both looked at each other. Hannibal looked at her as if she was the breath of fresh air he’d been looking for his entire life while (Y/n) looked at him as if he was the only thing that she lived for.

Dinner was a silent affair and Hannibal was an excellent cook. After dinner, (y/n) wandered off into her study to mark the remaining work of her students as Olga cornered Hannibal in the kitchen.

“She’s loved men greater than you, many Kings and Lords who were willing to lay their lives down for her beauty.” Olga informed Hannibal who listened intently, trying to ignore the clenching feeling in his heart. He knew that his lover had many before him yet he never felt insecure, not until this moment that is, the words from Olga’s mouth put that into perspective. If great kings and lords were willing to die for her, then who was he to deserve her love?

“Yet she never married any of them.” Hannibal retorted looking up at Olga, maintaining eye contact as some form of dominance.

“No, she almost did though. A man, a lord really. A widowed man, he was. His wife had succumbed to the chills and (Y/n) was new at court, quickly catching the eye of the young lord.

Their love was pure and young, like a freshly bloomed flower. However it did not last unfortunately, the young lord succumbed to a strange illness that (Y/n) would never die from.” Olga told Hannibal who listened closely to a piece of his fiancée’s history. Olga stood leaning against the counter, watching Hannibal, waiting for a reaction.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. However, she has me and I have her, I am not succumbing to any illness soon.” Hannibal smiled at Olga in a sarcastic manner who just smiled back at him, glad that he hadn’t let the jealousy overcome his conscious mind.

“You, my boy, will do just fine.” Olga pat Hannibal on the back and wandered off, leaving the older man to his own thoughts. Hannibal himself wasn’t less than royalty, he was the Count of Castle Lecter in Lithuania, his mother was a descendent of a family that ruled over Milan for 290 years.

He was on par with any king or lord that would die for his wife to be. She was beautiful, perhaps even the most beautiful creature to walk this earth.

Lost in thought while doing the dishes, he didn’t notice his lover walking in. The slight touch of her hand on his back caught Hannibal off guard as he let out a sigh of relief once he saw it was only his lover.

“Are you alright?” She questioned him, a worrisome look on her face as her eyebrows furrowed together, wondering what made him so panicky. Her hand travelled from rubbing his shoulder to caressing his face. Hannibal sighed gently before allowing himself to lean into her touch, cherishing every moment.

“I’m quite alright, dear.” Hannibal told the young brunette in a soft yet tired voice. She muttered a quiet “oh Hannibal,” before encasing him in a hug. Hannibal hugged her tightly, afraid that she was just a dream that his mind had conjured up before burying his face in her neck, allowing himself to breathe in her scent.

(Y/n) pulled back from the hug, bending her neck down to look at Hannibal as a frown overtook her beautiful face. She carded her hands through his hair before they settled on his face.

“How will you tell me what’s wrong?” She asked him gently and Hannibal, just for a brief moment, lost control over himself.

“Olga told me about your past.” Hannibal barely whispered out in a bitter tone. “She told me about the man who you nearly married and the kings and lords who were willing to lay their life down for you.”

“Oh my dear heart, that man was someone I loved years ago. But you, my dear, you are my love now. My star and my moon.” Hannibal relaxed at her words of reassurance, fully pulling away from their embrace.

“Let’s head up to bed now, I’ll start a fresh bath for you. It’ll help you relax.” She smiled at him and patted his cheek before heading upstairs.

Hannibal stole a quick kiss from his girlfriend before going back to doing the dishes. Once he finished, he wiped his wet hands on a towel and removed his apron and hung it on the hook before heading upstairs. Halfway up and he can already smell the scent of jasmine and sandalwood beginning to drift through the air. Hannibal tilts his head up and takes in a deep breath, already feeling a bit relaxed.

“There you are my star.” (Y/n) called out to Hannibal as she got up from the bed. “I’ve been waiting patiently for you, truly had half a mind to go and grab you myself.” She tells him, Hannibal laughs as he makes his way to their bathroom.

Even at the end of the day she looks like an Angel. His beautiful angel, crafted by god just for him. He removes his clothes, putting them in the hamper and then getting into the bath. Sandalwood and Jasmine, the scent that comforted him the most simply because it belonged to his wife. He remembers the first time he saw her, in that alley way, smelling like freshly bloomed jasmine with a hint of sandalwood.

“Take your relaxing bath, I’ll see you in bed.” The young woman told her lover before kissing him on the corner of his lips and strutting into the room. Hannibal relaxed fully now, lowering himself into the extremely hot water. It felt nice to have someone care for him like this. Sometimes he let his mind wander and wonder if this is the type of love Mischa felt when she was being cared for by her elder brother. He missed his sister, his little star in the sky. Now she truly was a part of the sky. Shaking his head, Hannibal closed his eyes and drifted off a short sleep.

Once he woke up, 35 minutes had passed and his body had already pruned. Quickly getting out, he moisturized and put his night suit on. His wife, although they weren’t married legally, was on the bed, reading a book that was centuries old. She was there when it was written, hence her copy is an original.

“I thought you weren’t coming out of that bath today.” She joked, smiling up at him.

“It seems like you made it too relaxing.” Hannibal joked back, poking her side making her laugh. Sweet laughter that sounded like wind chimes. She set her book aside, arranging the pillows so that she laid down properly on them.

“Ready to sleep?” Hannibal asked her, moulding himself around the shape of her body.

“With you? Always.” She tells her husband, moving closer to rest her head on his beating heart, allowing it to lull her to sleep. Hannibal moved his cheek atop her head, breathing in that familiar scent of metallic blood and jasmine, allowing the scents to send him to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was usual, Hannibal woke up first, made breakfast, woke up his wife and Olga, ate breakfast and then got dressed and headed off to work, he was now consulting with the FBI.

(Y/n)’s routine was the same as well. She ate, came up, got dressed for her teaching job, grabbed her papers and headed off to school.

Olga, well, she didn’t exactly have a job however, she had decided to get a head start on the wedding fabric. She knew that (Y/n) wanted something that was classic and elegant yet also wanted lace. She headed to multiple fabric stores and picked up multiple fabrics, allowing her surrogate daughter to pick one she liked the most. She wouldn’t admit it but Olga was excited, her daughter had happiness once, yet it was snatched straight out of her hands and now, she has a second chance at it with a great man.

The day came and went, by the time she reached home, it was 3pm and two hours later, (Y/n) returned home.

“Olga! What is all of this?” She asked surprised, shutting the door and taking off her gloves and coat, (y/n) put them on the couch and sat beside Olga.

“I brought fabric. The sooner you choose the type, the sooner I can begin the design.” Olga told her. The younger girl looked at Olga for a moment before hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek.

“You shouldn’t have!” She told her once, pulling away from the hug.

“Nonsense child. Now choose your favorite fabric.” And with those words, (y/n) began to finger the fabric and examined them closely. Some were beautiful crème coloured fabrics with a pearl sheen and others were decorated with gold threads and white coloured flowers embroidered. It was simply beautiful. However, the one that truly caught the young woman’s attention was a beautiful ivory coloured fabric with beautiful lace detailing and the fabric was woven with silver, causing it to have a beautiful shine in the sun and light.

“That one is it.” Hannibal called out from the door making his wife jump. She glared at him for a moment before running her hands through her hair. He laughed and shed his coat jacket, sitting next to his wife.

“It's beautiful, isn’t it.” She told him and Hannibal nodded. The fabric truly was one of a kind, however, his wife was more beautiful than any fabric or creature.

“I agree but I think that you’ll make it shine even more.” He tells her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and kissing her. (Y/n) raised his hand to his cheek, deepening the kiss a bit more.

“So that’s the fabric I assume.” Olga guessed.

“Well then, I’ll get started on the dress.” Olga kissed (y/n) on the cheek and headed to the sun room that was converted into her studio.

4 months passed by and their routine continued. Hannibal and (Y/n) headed off work while Olga worked on the dress, keeping it a secret from the bride. A month later, the dress was ready.

“The flower arrangements are beautiful, aren’t they.” The brunette gushed over the flowers, clutching onto Hannibal’s arm as he agreed. They truly were beautiful. Baby’s breath paired with lilac coloured flowers.

“Have you sent the invitations?” Hannibal asked the wedding planner who nodded. Hannibal nodded in acknowledgement and placed his hand over his wife’s.

“Everything will be perfect, my love.” Hannibal tells her normally, kissing her forehead before muttering a soft “And anyone who messes it up will be our dinner.” (Y/n) smiled at that. They weren’t innocent, Hannibal supplied her blood and the rest ate with her.

Their wedding date was in a week and good lord did that week come fast. At work Hannibal had made good friends with Will Graham and that man was his best man. Hannibal had friends, many friends, yet Will Graham was surprisingly his closest.

“Are you ready?” Will asked Hannibal who looked at him through the mirror.

“To marry her? Any day.” Hannibal replied in confidence, making Will laugh.

“I just went to see her, she looks like a vision come true. Now I see why you call her angel.” Will laughed, running his hands through his unruly curls. Will hadn’t only become friends with Hannibal, he also became friends with his wife. Will reminded (y/n) of her brother, one that she never got to see grow.

“Are you ready?” Maya asked (y/n), straightening her veil before grabbing ahold of her hands.

“Maya, I’ve been waiting over 9 centuries for this, I am ready as I'll ever be.” (Y/n) tells her long time friend, squeezing her hands in confirmation.

“Alright then, let’s get you married.” Maya said, linking their arms together.

Will was right, his wife to be was a beautiful vision. Olga did so wonderfully designing the dress, it was reminiscent of fashion during the Tudor period, with a beautiful ivory bodice decorated with the most beautiful blue and gold birds and flowers, the skirt was simple and trimmed with lace as well as the arms. It was a heavy skirt with multiple layers of fabric. A true Tudor wedding dress. Her hair was done up and a few loose curls framed her face, the makeup suited her well, dark eyes with a dark lip and the finishing touch was a dark blue lace choker, with a pendant depicting the goddess that she once served.

“You are stunning.” Hannibal sighed out in disbelief, still looking at his wife and took her hands in his bigger ones.

The priest officiated the wedding and they said their vows, sealing the ceremony with a kiss.

Maya cried at the Vows while Will teared up a little, praying to whatever god there was to find a love like theirs.

“I’ve waited a thousand years for you, Hannibal. I’ll wait another thousand if it means to have you in my arms.” She tells him, placing her hand on his cheek as he leans into it.

“I’d wait a thousand years to feel your touch and your love again, my beautiful, beautiful wife.” Hannibal tells her, tilting her chin up before kissing her again. They are finally married now, after centuries (Y/n) found someone to love for centuries to come and Hannibal found someone to love.

Tagging my beauties: @chchchcheni @shawty-writes-a-little @jake-g-lockley

#hannibal #Hannibal lecter x reader #Hannibal x reader fluff #Hannibal lecter x reader fluff #Hannibal lecter #Hannibal fluff #hannibal x reader angst #hannibal x reader #Hannibal Nbc #will graham #Hannibal Lecter imagine #nbc hannibal #fluff #vampires #slashers #slashers x reader #mads Mikkelsen #Mads Mikkelsen fluff #Mads Mikkelsen x reader fluff

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becomingvecna · 8 months

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❝ Do you think it’s easy, not biting the one you love?

Try loving someone so much your mouth is only at home in the place where your teeth meet the flesh of your beloved.

Try not tasting the flesh, not taking in your mouth the beloved, not going all the way. ❞

— Teaching the Dog Not to Nip

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honeygrahambitch · 7 months

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Thinking about an encephalitis sick Will who during an episode of hallucination and dissociation tries to kill Hannibal because he thought it was Hobbs. They have a fight in the kitchen similar to the one Will and Jack had by the end of season two. It's for the first time when Hannibal becomes fully aware of Will's physical strength. He is on full defense, trying his best not to hurt Will while Will is trying his best to murder him.

By the end of the fight they are both bloody and sweaty and Will comes back to his senses after Hannibal hits him harder than he intended by pushing him against the wall.

He is confused. He sees Hannibal. The blood that flows from his nose and forehead. His perfect shirt now stained. His right hand also bleeding from a stab wound.

He looks at his own crimson stained hands and throws the knife on the floor. He realizes that what is flowing down his neck is not sweat but blood as well.

Hannibal is still ready to step back but he guesses that Will is back to normal since the fury in his eyes is replaced by shock and fear.

"I lost time again." Is what he whispers and waits for Hannibal to tell him that nothing happened, that he is not responsible for this. He feels his own body start to shake.

"How are you feeling now, Will?" Hannibal asks and walks closer to him.

"I'm sorry." It's all he says before the convulsions get so bad that he falls to the floor right in front of Hannibal's eyes.

#angst cause yeah #hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham

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lumosecity · 16 days

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for every non-canon gay ship there is, let there follow the most heart wrenching divorce arc imaginable

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super-who-locked-me-in-here · 7 months

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Do you think Will has a traumatic response to the sound of glass breaking?

Like, between Randall Tier breaking into his own house to kill him after hurting one of his dogs, Francis almost killing Hannibal by shooting through the window of the safe house, and also just the general association of a shattering noise with the broken teacup imagery and being gutted/Abigail dying, I would not be surprised at all if this was true.

Imagine post-fall, someone tries to break into their house in the middle of the night, and they know someone is on their property because in this headcanon they have dogs, and the dogs are going bananas.

They split up (after sealing the dogs away), with Will making his way to the front door and Hannibal making his way to the backdoor. The intruder breaks a window near the back of the house trying to get in, and Hannibal deals with him swiftly. It doesn't seem like there's anyone else, but Hannibal can't be too sure, so he makes his way towards where Will is quietly, and is suddenly terrified to find him on the ground in the fetal position.

Hannibal tries to reach out to Will, say his name, see if he's hurt, but Will takes notice of his presence even as he's not fully aware. Hannibal just narrowly avoids getting punched in the face, but doesn't not manage to avoid getting grabbed by Will with his other hand and flipped under him.

Hannibal has been in this position with Will before but under arguably different circumstances, and he can see clearly as he looks at Will who's staring down at him like he's seen a ghost, that there is no light behind Will's eyes, that he is not present in the room with him.

Will's arm rears back as if to try to punch him again, when Hannibal whispers softly. "Your name is Will Graham. You are in our mutual home in Cuba. It is roughly 3:30 a.m. You are safe. You are alive. We are alive."

Will's eyes search his face anxiously as he says all these things, but upon Hannibal expressing that they are both alive, all the fight seems to go out of him. His arm falls to his side, his head drops to Hannibal's chest, and he lets out a quiet sob. His left hand feels up Hannibal's side and caresses the healed bullet wound, and his right hand wraps tightly around Hannibal's wrist.

Hannibal is not entirely sure what caused Will's distress, although he's positive he's the cause of it in some form or other. Whether Will's fear had been for Hannibal's safety or other people's safety from Hannibal is unclear to him. He's sure he will learn in due time, but for now, he is content to lay in the floor of their entryway and let Will ground himself with the only constant he has left.

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal headcanons #hannibal fic #hannibal analysis #angst

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voxmortuus · 10 months

Note

Hi! Can I please make a request?

If yes: thank you!

Could you write Hannibal giving his male!reader a blowjob?

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Hannibal x M!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Hannibal ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ See above ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 480 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ PWP | Male Oral | Male Finish | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this finds you well. Pretty basic request. Thank you for an easy porn without plot request was easy to bust out. Sorry it took so long had family over yesterday. Hope you enjoy ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist *̥˚✧

Never sloppy, this man was a professional even in intimate moments. However, the only reason why he was on his knees in front of you and not the other way around was because he lost a bet. He wasn't a sports fan, and you knew that you took advantage of the situation, and now you were being rewarded. It wasn't every day he lost a bet either, but, that being said, you were immensely enjoying what you felt was a well-deserved reward.

As the hot shower water adds to the pleasure, you look down, watching as his lips form perfectly around you, savoring the flesh, making sure you are well tended to. The stroke of his hand, the bob of his head, the attention to the little details. How you could feel the tension and tautness of the lips to add that perfect amount of pressure around, tight but not too tight.

You hang your head back as you enjoy this moment. The subtle stroke of his hand as his mouth glides along your slick stiffened flesh. Of course, he knew what he was doing, and you were bearing witness to it now.

Looking back down you watch as his lips move along the side of your cock, the length from base to tip, his tongue curled around the underside of your shaft, the way he moved along the side and wrapped around back to the tip only to press your head between his lips again and press you to the back of his throat as he picks up the pace.

You hang your head back and let out a long draw out moan into the bathroom as it echoes in the shower bouncing off those glass walls. Your body tenses with this intense wave of heat. Feeling it wash over you it's like prickles to your flesh. You let out another moan. Your eyes close as you reach down and grip the back of his head as your hips buckle in a rhythmic motion.

The faster he moves the faster your hips move in a perfect tandem motion. The perfect about of give and take. With a faster bob comes a tighter pressure, comes a quicker build of your own pressure but you're unable to hold back any longer. Before you could even get a word in edgewise you're letting out a loud moan of pure satisfaction. Your voice echoes in his ears.

As your cock twitches with your finish, like the professional this man is, Hannibal takes the load, proceeds to stand up with your cock in hand, pulls you closer, and looks down at you as he stands a fair bit taller than you.

"Next time, you're the one on your knees…" He stated with a small smirk.

"Whatever you say." You state with a soft chuckle kind of out of breath and in a daydream-like state.

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untitled-writer-013 · 1 year

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(idk if this is allowed or not) but how would poly hannigram react to reader having a miscarriage?

Poly!Hannigram x Fem!Miscarriaged!Reader

warning(s): mentions of miscarriage, mourning characters, angst, people invalidating grief, guilt, possibly very triggering.

Hannibal and Will had been with (Y/n) for a few years now, and the two men had been considering having a child with their darling. When asked, (Y/n) had agreed, ecstatic about raising a child with her husbands. She had taken great care of herself when she found out she was pregnant, making sure she wasn’t stressed, relaxing whenever she could, and making sure to eat and drink everything needed to have a healthy baby. Hannibal and Will would become more protective over their darling when she’s pregnant, making sure that she is alright and checking in on her more than they usually would. The three of them were all so excited to meet their little one, until Hannibal had received that dreadful phone call.

(Y/n), now five months along, had gone to her usual prenatal appointment, happily chatting with the nurse. Hannibal and Will had to work, and reluctantly let their wife go alone. They hated having to miss out on those small yet important moments, but (Y/n) had assured them that everything would be okay.

Until suddenly, it wasn’t.

Hannibal was sitting in his office, getting ready for his next appointment when his phone rang, making him pause momentarily before moving to answer it. Noticing it was his wife, he picked up and immediately asked if everything was okay, the silence he was met with making a lump form in his throat. He was about to say something before he heard a sob, his wife crying as she told him she had lost the baby. He froze where he was, his mouth slightly agape as he processed what she had said. He was praying that this was some sick joke, that it wasn’t real. But as his wife continued to sob and apologize, he realized that it was all too real. He shook his head, trying to hold back his tears as he reassured his wife that she wasn’t to blame, that he loved her and wasn’t upset with her at all.

After ending the call, Hannibal sent a text to Will, worried his voice would betray him as he asked him to stop by his office, only telling him that it was incredibly important. Once Will had finally arrived, he spotted Hannibal sitting in one of the chairs, wearing a pained expression.

“Hannibal, what’s going on?” Will asked, carefully sitting down across from him as he waited, wanting to know what was happening and why he looked so defeated.

“I don’t know how else to say this..(Y/n) miscarried.” Hannibal stated, staring ahead, seemingly still processing the horrible reality while Will’s jaw dropped, a look of horror on his face as he realized what had happened. He stood and went by Hannibal’s side, bringing him into a tight hug while sobbing, the grief almost hitting him immediately.

After a few minutes, Will stood, letting Hannibal know he was leaving to go check up on (Y/n) before he left the office, Hannibal now alone as he was slumped in his chair, wondering what had gone wrong, if there was anything he could have done, until ultimately realizing that what had happened couldn’t have been prevented.

Hannibal would return home, finding Will and (Y/n) in bed, their darling curled into Will as she sobbed, letting out sniffles and hiccups all the while apologizing. Will kept reassuring her that she wasn’t to blame, sounding like a broken record as he repeated this. Hannibal changed out of his work clothes, climbing into bed with them both before holding his wife close, pressing a kiss to her head as he reassured her that she would be okay.

All three of them would be heavily affected by the miscarriage. Hannibal would distance himself more, Will would drink, and (Y/n) would try and ignore what had happened. She would do her best to act as if everything was fine, even when it wasn’t. They all would dive deep into their work, none of them daring to confront the empty nursery that remained untouched.

(Y/n) had been working one day, feeling worse than usual as she stared at an ad in the magazine, showing a happy family enjoying dinner. One of her coworkers noticed, walking over to her while placing a hand on her shoulder. (Y/n) flinched, setting the magazine down slightly.

“Did you need something?” (Y/n) asked, slightly confused when her coworker shook her head.

“No, but I’ve noticed you’ve been getting worse. Now, I’m just saying, you could always try agai-” Her coworker was quickly cut off by (Y/n).

“That’s enough. You do not get to decide when I stop grieving. Don’t ever talk to me again.” (Y/n) stated firmly, slapping her hand away before she got up, taking her things with her, the magazine now on the floor.

(Y/n) began driving home, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. She was tired of being sad, angry, the guilt she felt eating away at her every day. She hated the tension she had with her husbands, and she was going to fix it. Somehow, she was going to. She had to.

(Y/n) slammed her car door shut, doing her best not to storm into the house as she opened the door, making her way to the nursery. She opened the door, pausing in her movements as her breath became shaky. All the anger and resentment had been washed away at the sight of the nursery. The curtains were open, letting the sunlight in, landing on the crib that Will and Hannibal had set up. (Y/n) slowly went into the nursery, taking a seat in the rocking chair.

She looked around, the changing table, stuffed animals, and the toys coming into view. Her eyes began to water, but she took a deep breath. (Y/n) knew she needed to be strong, focusing on her breathing. She had been so focused that she didn’t notice Will peering into the room, having noticed the open door.

“Darling?” Will asked, his voice soft and tone unsure as he waited at the doorway, hesitant to step into the supposed forbidden room.

(Y/n) turned to face her husband, spotting her other husband appearing behind Will.

“I..I’m just tired of acting like this room has control over us. I don’t want to be afraid of a room anymore, I..I just want to get my life back.” (Y/n) stated, her voice cracking slightly as desperation filled her voice.

Hannibal and Will looked at her, an expression mixed with guilt and sympathy on their faces. They both joined her in the room, Will sitting next to the chair (Y/n) was on while Hannibal stood in the room, letting himself take everything in. It had been forever since all of them had been in the room, especially all together. As the emotional tension eased in the room, Will took (Y/n)’s hand into his own, pressing a kiss onto it as he reassured her that they would get through this.

The three of them soon left the nursery, no longer prohibited from entering it, but instead they began planning to adopt a child. They all knew that they would never ‘replace’ the baby they lost, but they would at least have a child to raise. They all vowed to never distance themselves from each other ever again, and they all would be there for each other, no matter what.

~fin~

author’s note: while the pain and grief might make them distance themselves, they still love and adore their darling. they just need time to process and work through the grief on their own, and eventually together with their darling.

#nbc hannigram #nbc hannibal #will graham #hannigram #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #fem reader #miscarriage fic #original writing #taking requests #angst

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bebx · 8 months

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Legend of the Witches (1970) | Hannibal (2013-2015)

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liennka · 7 months

Text

Mizumono

Hannibal Lecter x Will's daughter X Will Graham

Summary: Will was supposed to help Jack with killing Hannibal, but he arrived too late and with him, his daughter, Y/n.... (s2e13)

-> This one is filled with angst, but i realised that's just what i am good at :) I am open to any criticism (be nice pls).

I just wanted to say that I am not the owner of this show, but I did make this story, so don't copy it without my knowledge, thank you.

When Alana called about the warrant, Will didn't panic. He told Y/n to go downstairs, urging her to turn off the lights and grab a jacket. And as the police headlights came through the windows, they ducked and crawled on all fours to the back door, Will grabbing his gun. Outside, hidden in the darkness, they ran across their property, stopping on a road. The rain soaked their clothes, though at least the ground wasn't muddy, otherwise they'd be easy to track. A taxi pulled up and Will gave him an address.

"Hannibal Lecter's house? Why are we going from one danger to another?" Y/n asked, much rather preferring a McDonald's or a cinema.

"Because Jack will be there, and right now nowhere is safe," her father whispered, looking out the window, "and maybe it's the only address I know."

"That's probably it. What are we going to do then? Have a cup of tea with him and chat with Hannibal?" she sarcastically teased.

"I gave him time to leave, nothing should happen".

Y/N wasn't so sure.

----●----●----●----

When they got off, her father couldn't have been more wrong. Alana laid there, glass broken, rain rinsing blood from her hair. She seemed dead, just the twitching from shock making her shoulders move up and down.

"Alana!" Will rushed to her and wrapped her in his coat.

Y/n made note of her surroundings. The front door opened, all sorts of wet footsteps on the carpet, the second floor window busted. And a bloody burgundy dahlia looking at her from a pot near the entrance.

"Betrayal," she hummed, crouching down beside Alana.

Will looked at her as if she was crazy. He had just called the ambulance and left Alana his phone.

"The flowers," Y/n pointed out, "I guess he's inside.”

"Jack's there too," Alana choked out.

Y/N was surprised, she thought Alana's rib cage was too damaged to speak, but Alana proved her wrong. Will nodded and stood up, his gun in both hands. Y/n stayed a little longer, not caring that her hair was now sticking to her ears and causing her to feel cold.

----●----●----●----

As she opened the door to the kitchen, the smell of blood hit her. There were knives, plates and glass everywhere, two pairs of shoes standing in the midst of it all. As she looked up, Hannibal's silhouette greeted her.

"You were supposed to leave!" Will was standing in front of him.

"I couldn't leave without you two," Hannibal said affectionately.

Y/n did not know who 'you two' meant, but had a hunch that it included her. Strangely, Hannibal didn't even spare her a look, placing his palm on Will's cheek as if to caress it. They both had such an intense gaze, the sexual tension almost making Y/n turn around to give them some privacy. The scenery looked like a theater piece, a tragedy at that. They dove into their world, where she didn't exist and where they spoke in a different language, or maybe she just lost her hearing from how loud her heart was beating. Either way, Y/n wanted to separate them, to drag her dad back to their house, back to their dogs.

She did not see the knife coming from her point of view. Her father simply yelped and took a step forward, crashing into Hannibal's arms. This wasn't real, no. Hannibal would never hurt Will, he was like the other half of his soul, she lied to herself. But there was a red stain on his shirt and when Hannibal embraced him, the weapon remained in his hand, as if to mock them. Y/n stood motionless, no sound could break through her frozen vocal chords. She never thought this would happen, her chest tightening and her eyes filling with tears of pure terror.

The impact of Will's body aligned with her first fallen tear. His body fell directly into a pool of Jack's blood, his pants soaking it up. A few droplets of their mixed blood landed on her shoe, ruining her white trainers. Y/n swallowed nauseously, not daring to look into her fathers eyes.

Hannibal leaned forward, his crescent-shaped blade back on the counter.

"I have let you know me, see me," Hannibal paused as Will struggled to breathe, "I gave you a rare gift, but you didn't want it.”

"Didn't I?" Will insisted heartbroken, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. He seemed distressed, but more than anything, he was furious.

Y/n shut herself off, not wanting to remember her father so frail, choosing to merely listen. And when she heard Hannibal mention the shattered teacup again, something in her snapped. She opened her pocket knife behind her back, using it for the first time since she bought it after the encounter with Tobias. Her fight-or-flight instinct flipped a coin and settled on fight. In a blink of an eye, she was standing behind Hannibal, her knife placed just under his jaw.

Y/n had no idea what she was doing. Her mind told her to end it, to be free at last. But her heart knew that was not possible, not in this life. She couldn't stop shaking, so she applied more force, making him bleed a little. Will sucked in his breath, not quite understanding what was going on as this was out of character for her.

"We are not a shattered teacup. You can't glue us back together and pretend like nothing happened," Y/n croaked in his ear, her voice high-pitched.

The blade suddenly twitched as a chuckle erupted from Hannibal’s chest.

"No, you certainly are not just a piece of pottery, but you are indeed fragile."

“You should have left when Will told you to. Instead you slaughtered them all, rightfully or not, whether you believe in God or not. There is no excuse for that,” Y/n hissed, her disappointment in him turning her words bitter.

"I should have seen it coming…you made us so blind," her disappointment in herself turning her words sour.

Alana's happy face when she gave her a handmade sweater, or Jack and Bella's Christmas party, it was all over. Her bright future turned dim.

"I just wanted us to be a family. Why," she sobbed, a big droplet falling on the floor, "why can't I have a genuine family for once?"

----●----●----●----

Taking advantage of her state of mind, Hannibal grabbed her hand, pulling the knife away from his throat and spinning her around. He took her face in his palms, making her look at him. Y/n had teardrops on her chin, red spots on her irritated skin, her lips chapped and her eyelashes littered with fresh tears. He wiped them away so she had a clear view of him. However, he was no better, his normally perfectly sleek bangs were now messy, blood on his collar and some drying under his nose. He was bruised and in pain, yet he still looked like the most charismatic man she had ever seen. A charismatic man that attempted to erase her father's existence.

"You don't get to start over after what you've just done, that's not fair!” she tried to wriggle out of his grip, “You hurt Will and you broke my trust. What do you expect us to do?"

"Nothing, such is life. Don't fight it, let it all go."

Y/n raised her eyebrows in disbelief, a single tear running down her cheek. By now she could care less about having a weapon on her side, she felt she had already lost.

"'And what if I don't want to let it go, to forget or forgive?"

"Then you lose yourself," Hannibal directed his gaze back to Will, "I forgive Will. Will he forgive me?"

"'Don't. No, no, no!" Will uttered for the first time after his collapse.

It broke his heart, but there was nothing to be done, his design was meant to be finished and everything had to go according to plan. He pried her knife from her slack hold, unbeknown to her.

"What are you tal-" Y/n's question couldn't be finished as she was silenced.

Her own knife, now in Hannibal's possession, was plunged blade deep into her side, almost identically to her father's. She yelped as she felt her muscles being torn apart, the stinging as Hannibal yanked it out causing her to choke. Her eyes opened wide as if trying to comprehend what was happening. The searing pain in her torso sent her to the ground, but it was the pain in her heart that made her burst out crying again, only this time it would not stop. Hannibal slowly lowered her down beside Will, splattering the tiles with her blood and tears like the rain would.

She shook, struggling to catch her breath. With one hand she pressed against her wound, with the other she found her father's hand and weakly squeezed it. She felt his cold fingers, the energy draining from his body.

"Dad," Y/n muffled her cries.

Will wanted to help her, to hold her and console her, but he'd been bleeding for so long he couldn't even open his mouth. He had no choice but to watch with half-closed eyes as the entire room bathed in red.

"You can make it all go away. Put your head back, close your eyes," Hannibal reached for Will's shoulder and met his eyes. "Wade into the quiet of the stream".

Y/n blinked at Hannibal for a second, but instead of a man, she saw a red horned monster with black dahlias sprouting from its eye sockets. So this was his true self, she realised.

“We were never meant to work, were we?” she clutched at Hannibal's trousers with her bloodied fingers.

There was a silence for a while, Will's labored breathing slowing and her own sniffles fading to silent tears. Hannibal knelt down and ruffled her wet hair.

And as her father closed his eyes, Hannibal asked her: "Will you forgive me?"

Y/n wanted to say no. She wanted to send him into the pond of burgundy ink as well, but her own mind said otherwise.

"'Maybe, if you promise to make us work."

He smiled and stood up, not looking at her again. As his footsteps faded away, Y/n's warm blood grew chilly and her eyes heavy. With her last strength she kissed her father's knuckles, her last tears streaming down her face.

----●----●----●----

She shed tears for how pitiful her ending was. And as her vision got blurrier, she bid farewell to her life.

#child reader #hannibal nbc #original character #hannibal lecter #teen reader #will graham #angst #hurt/no comfort #tw blo0d #tw blade #female reader #x reader #platonic #hannigram #hannibal x reader #will graham x reader #will graham x hannibal lecter #hannibal

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