because he never gets over what he went through with hannibal and such

Relieving the Pressure

Hannibal has a “pattern” of having relationships with violent patients, according to Bedelia. Will is the one who not only breaks this pattern but completely upends it. Hannibal has to adopt various strategies in order to get close to people, let them “see” him and keep them in his life. 

Bedelia: You have to maintain boundaries Hannibal.

Hannibal: When the pressures of my personal and professional relationships with Will grow too great, I assure you I’ll find a way to relieve them.

Hannibal “relieves the pressure” of those who he becomes personal with by neutralizing them. They can “see” him only if there is some other factor that prevents them from exposing who he is to the authorities. He does this by various methods and always by sharing in some kind of murder with the person. If all of these strategies fail, then he will kill the person before they can expose him. There is a definite pattern of how he does this even though it involves different situations and different people. 

With Bedelia we don’t get much of a description about how Hannibal carried out his strategy of keeping her in his life while letting her “see” him. We don’t know how long they had known each other or how close they were before he deployed his strategy. What we do know is that he sent a violent patient to her and when she killed him in “self defense” he helped her to cover up her crime. They were bound together through that and Hannibal took advantage of that. When Bedelia said she wanted to retire, Hannibal was her only patient who refused to stop therapy with her. That’s both because Bedelia refused a more friendly or informal relationship with him and also because of the amount of work he put into being able to have any kind of relationship with her. However, Bedelia only saw “enough” of him, not everything. At the point when she saw more of who he really was Hannibal immediately took lethal action. He went to her home in his murder suit ready to kill her. She only escaped because she had already run away before he showed up at her home. And in the end, he is eating her with Will.

With how quickly Hannibal moved to establish a connection with Will and Abigail, we can assume that Hannibal probably moved at probably a similar rate with Bedelia. He realizes who can “see” or understand him pretty much right away and starts a strategy to establish the connection. With Bedelia it was with a violent secret. With Abigail it was the same thing. He knew that Abigail helped her Father kill the girls and he also helped her to cover up her murder of Nick Boyle and Abigail knew that he called her Father. Like Bedelia, she didn’t “see” all of him and once she hit that point of no return, Hannibal again initiated violent action against her. This time, because of the relationship he wanted with Will, he faked her death instead of killing her. But he still cut off her ear and isolated her from public life and does kill her in the end.

Will started out very much like the others, but because of the special nature of their relationship the pattern is broken pretty quickly. Will was also a very fast connection. Like with Bedelia and Abigail they are bound together by a violent action. However, unlike Bedelia and Abigail, the murder was ruled as legitimate self defense and didn’t have to be kept secret or covered up. Hannibal still used this to establish that trust with Will. Will admitted that he liked killing Hobbs, something he would not admit to anyone else. But Hannibal didn’t show much of himself to Will until he brought Will into the secret that Abigail and he already shared. We can see that at the moment Will says that he knows about Nick Boyle, Hannibal briefly contemplates lethal action by touching his scalpel. But he doesn’t do it.

Originally posted by existingcharactersdiehorribly

When Will “sees” him more fully Hannibal still doesn’t take any lethal action against him. In a definite break of pattern Hannibal lets Will take the lethal action. Will tries to shoot Hannibal and he also sends Matthew Brown after him. And he also has a gun and a knife that he uses against Hannibal unsuccessfully. Then there is the ultimate ending when Will takes Hannibal over the cliff (however that action is interpreted; symbolically or literally). Initially it seemed Hannibal did want to neutralize Will and succeeded to some extent by framing him. Will knew who Hannibal was but because he was framed, nobody believed him. And when Chilton was framed instead of Will, Hannibal felt safe enough to let Will out of prison. When the authorities were getting too close again, and Will says that what they are doing isn’t “sustainable”, he doesn’t decide to protect himself by neutralizing Jack or Will. Instead he decides to end his life in Baltimore and he just wants Will to run away with him. In the end, Hannibal chose not to neutralize Will, certainly not with lethal action as he did and does with Abigail and Bedelia. 

Hannibal decides to neutralize himself

He gives himself up to the authorities, he relieves the pressure, so that Will can decide when he wants to see him again or not. By completely reversing the pattern, and their roles, Hannibal adopted a new strategy to try to make sure that someday Will might be in his life again. Though we don’t know exactly what their relationship looks like after this new strategy, we know it was successful. Hannibal has Will in his life in the end. 

What I find so interesting about this pattern break and role reversal is that Hannibal didn’t need to do it. Will essentially neutralized himself in Digestivo before Hannibal did. He said he would not chase after Hannibal anymore and since Will is really the only person who could catch Hannibal, he could have run away again and been fairly secure in his new life. I think this speaks to the fact that Hannibal never wanted to truly neutralize Will. What he wanted was for Will to be in his life permanently. And as we see with the previous examples, neutralizing a person is never permanent unless it ends with Hannibal killing them. With Will it becomes permanent by Will “killing” Hannibal. 

“You smell like her.” Hannibal’s nose twitched at him and Will felt his stomach drop.

Will let out a heavy sigh. At first Hannibal’s jealousy had been nice - sweet and sort of enjoyable - it had made him feel wanted. But the longer this shoot with Molly went on the worse it got. Will had worked with a lot of alphas before, but this was the longest time - they were doing a campaign together and would be working closely for months to come. She was nice, but there was nothing between them and Hannibal knew that. Even so-

“I don’t like it.” Hannibal said coolly.

“It’s my job Hannibal. I’m… I… I love you. I’m in love with you and that isn’t going to change no matter how many alphas I have to pose with. Why don’t you get that?” It wasn’t the first time he’d had to tell the alpha this.

Hannibal’s jaw clenched. He ignored Will and continued - “I don’t want you to work with her again. Cancel the contract, I will pay the money you lose. You need not even work at all, you know that.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Will was trembling and shocked at Hannibal’s words. This was a line he didn’t think they would cross. “I won’t be your fucking kept boy Hannibal, you fucking know that. If that’s what you want, you…” Will shook his head. “I think I should go back to my place for a bit. Before one of us says something we’ll really regret.”

“No, Will.” Hannibal’s tone was commanding and for a moment Will was frozen to the spot by his omega instincts. Anger boiled up in him even as he saw the concerned look on Hannibal’s face - the alpha had clearly not intended that response.

“Fuck you Hannibal.” Will snarled regardless and walked out the door, slamming it behind him and hearing crockery smash as he headed into the storm outside.

The storm was raging by the time Will got to his little apartment on the other side of town. The rain was coming down sideways and thunder rumbled out over the beach. He was just towelling off his hair when there was a banging at the door.

He scented Hannibal immediately and was unsure whether to answer it, before finally deciding he couldn’t leave the alpha on the doorstep in this weather.

He was soaked through, but Will was sure some of the dampness on his face was tears.

“I’m sorry Will. You’re completely right of course. I shouldn’t have-” he shrugged. “I get… I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then stop being so…” <i>possessive</i> realisation struck Will hard. It was suddenly clear to him. Will grabbed Hannibal’s sodden shirt and pulled him into the apartment, using him to bodily close the door.


“Bite me.” Will growled. He’d never wanted anything more, but he had convinced himself that someone like Hannibal couldn’t possibly want to bond with him. The reality was suddenly clear. Hannibal’s jealousy was because he needed this too. He needed to possess Will in the way only an alpha could.

He nuzzled into Hannibal’s neck, over his scent gland before repeating in a low plea - “bite me.”

Hannibal practically roared as he moved them both to the floor. They were both a flurry of limbs and fabric as they divested just enough clothing for Hannibal to push him to his front and enter him. The alpha buried himself to the hilt, knot and all as it began to swell. He pushed his face to Will’s neck, scenting him and then licking a wide swath before clamping his teeth into Will’s neck.

Newly bonded, sated and tired. They remained on the floor for sometime, holding each other and stroking hands gently over smooth skin.

“Will you stop being jealous now?” Will asked with a smile that spoke of being fulfilled and blissful.

Hannibal’s mouth tweaked into a slight grin. “Perhaps. I shall endure Molly Foster. That motorcycle in your last shoot though… I’m not fond of things other than myself so neatly fitted between your legs.”

It sounded like a joke and Will laughed, but equally he considered the very serious possibility that Hannibal was jealous of a motorcycle.

anonymous asked:

Prompt (if you feel like it): set in s1 and it's Hannibal's POV and he watches Matthew brown trying to court Will. Like visiting after teaching and stuff (kinda possessive kinda jealous because when is Hannibal not). Then one day at an their appointment they mention it and Hannibal somehow fucks Will on his desk. (Maybe he's planning to kill Matt??maybe he's dark!Will) (Yeah don't know how I got this idea either)

I had to make this alpha beta omega, sorry if it’s not your thing. Also no desk sex. And canon compliant fic is not my strong point. *hides* 


Hannibal never expected to take an omega. 

He’d had sex with them, taken his pleasure, but had no need to bond. 

Then he met Will Graham, and things changed. 

The scent of him was intoxicating, luring Hannibal into wishing for closeness but unable to stop himself from playing at his fractured mind. He enjoyed their appointments, the talks they shared, and was quite eager to start to discuss courting when Will said something that surprised him. 

“I think there’s an alpha interested in me.”

Hannibal’s jaw tightened, “Oh?” 

“I went to speak with Gideon and one of the orderlies yesterday and he sort of…” 

Hannibal leaned forward, “He sort of, what?” 

Will rubbed the side of his neck, blushing. “Gave me a folded bird. It was weird, because it’s not a traditional courting gift, you know? It was hawk, and I….” 

Hannibal gritted his teeth. “Are you interested in him?” 

Will sipped his wine, shaking his head. “I haven’t had sex in five years, at least not with another person,” he laughed, “I don’t have to say yes but I’m not saying no.” 

That was all Hannibal needed. 

He went to visit Frederick the very next day under the guise of a colleague lunch, spotting the orderly almost immediately by the bits of scent left over from his encounter with Will. The orderly was an alpha, lower class to be sure but an alpha who immediately scented Will just as Hannibal had him. 

“Hello,” he said, smirking, “I do believe we are at an impasse. You see, Will and I are courting and you’re intruding.” 

The orderly, Matthew according to his nametag, grinned. 

“He’s a big boy, isn’t he? He could’ve said no.” 

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The First Scene of Hannibal Never Happened

The more I look at the series as a whole, the more I’m convinced that the first scene, the very first time we see Will Graham in action,  it never really happened, at least not it the way it was portrayed. This scene was simply the foyer of Will Graham’s memory palace, a mood setting piece, our introduction to him.

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Alana Finds Out: Zombies!

Another instalment of AFO in honour of Ladies of Hannibal week… in which Alana faces the possible end of the world… and some other unfortunate revelations.

(Also a small warning: there are mentions of offstage character deaths here. None of the major characters are affected, but be prepared in any case.)

Also on AO3.

“…the attackers can be stopped by removing the head or destroying the brain.”

Alana stood watching the television she hadn’t even known Hannibal owned, transfixed by the impossibility of what she was seeing. On the screen, a news anchor, sweating through his shirt and a face-full of makeup, was giving details of what no one could any longer deny was the rise of the undead.

“Alana,” Hannibal had appeared behind her silently, his hand on her arm causing her to jump, “I think it is time to go.”

She turned to face him and froze. The man in front of her looked very much like Hannibal Lecter, except he was dressed in jeans, heavy boots and a leather jacket and appeared to have strapped the katana from his bedroom to his back.

“Hannibal, what…”

“The transport is outside, Alana, it is time for you to go.”

She looked up from his unfamiliar ensemble, taking in the firm set of his mouth, the sad look in his eyes. “Why aren’t you coming?”

“I have a friend out there who requires my help.”

Alana didn’t have to wonder. “You’re going to find Will. Even after what he did, what he accused you of?”

Hannibal nodded. “You know as well as I that Will is not guilty.”

In the face of the zombie apocalypse, Alana found it all too easy to accept the truth of this, as well as something else she now knew should have been obvious. “You’re in love with him.”

“Yes. I’m sorry if that upsets you but if there still exists a chance to keep him safe, I must take it.”

Alana considered getting upset for a moment but she had never seen her progression from Hannibal’s friend to his lover as anything more than a clutch for comfort by either of them. Not to mention, the presence of the armed transport outside, courtesy of Jack Crawford’s calling in of every favour he’d ever earned, rather shortened the timeframe for confrontations. Instead, she simply wrapped her arms around Hannibal, with the words, “Don’t be too reckless. Take care of him.” She drew back and met his eyes, “And be honest with him. No metaphors, no literary allusions, no exquisitely crafted obfuscations. Just tell him. I’m reasonably certain you’ll get the response you want.”

Hannibal’s eyes lit at this, in a way she’d never seen before. “You are?”

She shrugged, feeling surprisingly light-hearted in the face of the end of both her relationship and, potentially, the world. “The other reason I told him I couldn’t date him? When the pair of you aren’t trading elegant couplets on the subject of murder, you’re eye-banging like no one else can see you. It’s not subtle.”

It was this final sentence that meant, as she took her bags to the door, the last thing Alana saw of her former lover, was the unexpectedly beautiful sight of Hannibal Lecter blushing.

Three years later.

Alana would know those curls anywhere.

She was in Florida, helping a colleague to run a week of counselling sessions for traumatised survivors. Given that mostly everyone still alive in the US qualified as such, these events were always utter chaos, a barely controlled swell of emotion coupled with endless paperwork and administration. The chances that Alana would catch glimpse of a living, breathing Will Graham in any context were, she contemplated, microscopic. That she would, through the packed crowds of the conference centre, simply glance towards the refreshments table to see him struggling one-handed with a coffee pot seemed impossible to the point of absurdity.

And yet.

Alana excused herself from her colleagues and crossed the room, almost in a daze. Just before she could reach him, though, she realised with horror that the reason for Will’s struggle was the total absence of his left arm. His shoulder simply ended abruptly in a stump, covered with fabric neatly tailored to his altered form. Alana was used to such injuries – there had been far greater call for medics than psychiatrists during the last few years and Alana had found herself in field hospitals all across the country – but she couldn’t keep the words from leaving her lips.

“Oh, Will.”

He turned, clearly surprised to hear his name, still holding the pot in his remaining hand. She watched his eyes light with recognition as he set down the coffee and pulled her in for an embrace.

“Alana, you’re alive! I wasn’t sure, I… I don’t have the connections I had before.” He pulled back to look at her properly. “You’re ok? You’re safe, happy?”

“All of the above.” She felt a huge grin cross her face, the same reflected a second later on Will’s. It faded after a moment, though, as she glanced at the space where his arm should have been.

Will caught her look and said, “It’s ok, it could’ve been so much worse. Should have been. I got bit,” Alana’s head snapped up and she stared at him. “I know. Thought I was done for sure. It was only because of the guy with me, he took my arm off the second after the thing got hold of me. Kept the infection from spreading. Another second…” he trailed off, eyes clouded for a second, then shrugged. “I figure, an arm’s not that much of a sacrifice. And other than that, I’m a hell of a lot healthier than I was pre-apocalypse.”

Alana took a moment to look him over. Will was right – where she had known a scruffy, twitchy, often sweaty mess of a man who concealed his looks behind stubble and poor eye contact, the man before her now was neat and clean, smartly groomed and dressed in simple but elegant clothes. He also looked healthy, well-fed and clear-skinned, with an ease in his posture that she had never seen before. More than anything, though, he was meeting her eyes without hesitation, the expression in them so warm and genuine she wondered how she had ever thought him capable of violence and murder.

She smiled, feeling a prickle of tears in her eyes and then laughed, blinking them away. “The end of the world clearly agrees with you.” Will barked out a laugh, the same one she remembered, and she reflected gladly that some things remained unchanged. Then, without warning, she blurted, “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you, Will.”

He cast his eyes away for a second but then looked back and shrugged. “It’s ok. I wouldn’t have believed me. It’s forgotten.”

“And… you’re a free man? They didn’t try to put you back in?”

“They made some perfunctory noises about it but, given my exemplary service to the nation in zombie massacring, as well as the fact that pretty much all the evidence against me was lost one way and another, they didn’t pursue it too hard. Apparently the going rate for freedom is a couple hundred undead and my total’s well above that, thus I am a fully certified member of the post-apocalyptic society.” He rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I’m not letting you go anytime soon, Bloom,” Will told her, taking her hand and dragging her to a couch in the corner. They sat and he looked seriously at her. “Do you know what happened to the others? Crawford? Katz and her boys?” Alana noticed that he didn’t say anything about Hannibal and realised, the thought sinking like a stone within her, that if Hannibal wasn’t with Will, it was because he had died trying.

The tears returned to Alana’s eyes and Will’s expression dropped. She pulled herself together, took a deep breath and told him. “Zeller died early on. He was out on duty when the bodies at the crime scene…” she sniffled, “he went out fighting but he wouldn’t have had a clue what was going on. He wasn’t turned, they just… destroyed him. Price was distraught, of course, Beverly too. He’s still alive, got a partner and kids, named his son Brian. He says if the kid doesn’t develop a terrible sense of humour and a fascination with dead bodies he won’t have done his job right.” Will grinned weakly, his own eyes sparkling with tears.

Alana clutched tightly at his hand with both of hers. She had hoped never to tell this next part ever again. “Jack… Jack’s dead too. He…” Alana was openly crying now. “He made sure he got everybody to safety that he could. Then he… god, Will, he helped Bella to go. They were found in their bed together, there was a syringe next to her and a bullet in his head. He left a note, said that he was tired of fighting monsters and since Bella couldn’t follow him, he’d follow her.” Will pulled her tight against himself and they sobbed together.

Eventually, they quietened and Will leaned back, saying, “He was a great man. A gigantic, bull-headed bear of a great man. I’m glad they were together at the end.” He squeezed her hand and then a frown crossed his brow. “What about Beverly? Is she…”

“Don’t worry. Not all my stories are sad.” Alana took a deep breath and tried to shake off her grief. “Beverly Katz is alive, a decorated hero of the war on zombies and, other than losing an eye in combat, is both hale and hearty and every bit the snarky, badass bitch she ever was.”

The relief in Will’s eyes was dazzling. “Saved the best for last, huh? I bet she really pulls off the eye patch.”

“I think so,” Alana agreed, “it’s really the main reason I married her.”

Will’s stunned expression was a picture. “What?” he nearly squealed. “You and Katz?”

Alana held up her left hand to show off her wedding ring. “She’s pretty amazing. And stupidly hot when smiting the undead.”

Will grinned and launched himself at her for yet another hug. She felt him chuckle against her and say, “Remember when I kissed you?”

“I faintly recall.”

“Really barking up the wrong tree, huh?”

“My finding you attractive was never the problem, Graham.” She smacked him lightly on the head. “Though I must admit, I like the new look better than the flannel.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s a reason for that.” Will released her and held up his own hand, displaying a gold band. “Snap. Wrong hand, of course, but completely official.”

“You got married? To who? Is she here, can I meet her?”

Will grinned, looking pleased with himself. “I believe my darling spouse should be arriving soon. I’ll give you all the gory details when I can make the introductions.”

“You’d better.” Alana decided she had to ask, before Will’s wife appeared and the chance was lost. “Will, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but the last time I saw him, Hannibal was on his way to try to save you from Chilton’s hospital. He… he was in love with you, you know.” Will looked down. “I’m sorry, maybe you didn’t want to know that but… did he ever find you, did you ever see him again?”

From behind her, a familiar voice interjected, “Who else do you know could cut off a man’s arm and then convince him to marry them?”

Will’s grin could’ve lit the city. “Alana, I’d like you to meet my husband, Dr Hannibal Lecter.”

Alana turned to raise her eyes along all six-foot plus of her former mentor, finding herself unable to move. Hannibal seemed relatively unharmed, save for a wicked-looking scar that ran the length of one cheekbone. Seeing her shock, he grinned from ear to ear and Alana realised, as he leaned down for a hug, that she had never seen such an open expression on his face. Indeed, as Hannibal crossed to his husband, stealing a kiss before sitting behind him and pulling Will back against his chest, she realised how little resemblance this relaxed, loose-limbed, contented man bore to the one she had known before.

“She looks a little dazed, don’t you think darling?” Will asked teasingly.

“Positively stunned, dearest,” agreed Hannibal.

“So, I was right about the eye-banging,” Alana interjected, not wanting to let them win.

As Hannibal smirked behind him, Will exclaimed, “What the hell does that mean?”

After they’d finished laughing, they exchanged war stories for a couple of hours, Hannibal equally delighted to hear of Alana’s marriage and Alana entirely unsurprised it took less than two weeks after Hannibal had rescued Will from the BSHCI for their first kiss to occur.

Eventually, as the venue began closing for the night, Hannibal said, “Alana, we would love to have you for dinner.” Will seemed to choke a little as Hannibal clarified, “For you to come to our house to eat dinner.”

“You still cook, Hannibal?”

Will snorted. “As if the end of the world could stop him.”

“Yes,” Alana continued, “but you always cooked meat and it’s so hard to come by now.”

“In fact, my darling husband has adjusted well to a vegetarian diet,” Will told her. “Claims a couple of years killing zombies kinda did for his bloodlust.” His eyes twinkled as he looked up at Hannibal, whose eyes crinkled in response. Clearly Alana was missing some inside joke but she chose not to pry.

“In any case,” Hannibal added, “cutting off a large part of the man you love,”

“With a katana,” Will added.

“…has the unfortunate side effect of making butchery somewhat less appealing.”

Alana began to laugh at that, with the two men joining soon after and it took a couple of minutes for them to compose themselves. Finally, she regained enough breath to say, “A vegetarian dinner cooked by Hannibal Lecter. I knew there was a reason I survived the zombie apocalypse.”

Dr. Frederick Chilton / All His.

OK; I dunno where this came from, but, *blows horn* Chilton Fluff ahead~

Originally posted by samofwinter

I tag @mrschiltoncat in nearly everything Chilton-y so, here darlin’. <3

The lock slipped, the door opened, and Frederick eagerly looked up from the book he had been adding annotations to. He’d been waiting; for the signal of your arrival. You slid in easily, offered a meek smirk upon noticing him on the sofa- where he almost always was after your long evenings at the firm.

An apology, one he’s heard so very often before: “Sorry I’m late, darling.” While surreptitiously slipping out of your heels, you used the nearby table to balance yourself, nearly tumbled over your own toes in your hurry to go flat-footed.

All he could do was smile, as he watched you loose those few extra inches of height you took with you to the office. “It’s never a problem,” he offered, sincerely, but of course he was sincere. No matter how many nights he had to wait for you to make it home- he’d assure you he didn’t mind.

No, not one bit. Having you home was worth every moment apart.

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possibleplatypus  asked:

"under skies never seen by waking eyes"

This title reminds me of the Wallander opening theme so, like…crime drama AU? Crime drama AU.

Specifically, probably the crime drama AU that I played around with back when I binge-watched Hannibal at the beginning of the summer, which went something along the lines of:

Yuuri, a profiler with the FBI, was recently taken off of active duty because of a mental break he experienced due to a recent traumatic case. He’s been off-duty for a few months now, but they’re reinstating him because there’s a serial killer in Virginia, one of the worst and most prolific in American history, and they’re getting close to finding them–but they need a profiler and not just any profiler–one of the best profilers. 

“Why me?” he asks Yakov Feltsman, who’s the head of the FBI and has come to his house to personally ask for his help. “Why not Giacometti. Or one of the Crispinos.”

“We’re bringing them in, too,” Feltsman says. “We’re bringing in the best we’ve got. And you’re one of them, Katsuki, whether you like it or not. I’m here to ask you to head a team of our six best profilers–and I can’t take no for an answer.”

So Yuuri goes–he and his team set up in their own little corner of Quantico; himself, Chris Giacometti, Phichit Chulanont, the Crispino twins, and JJ Leroy. 

And then, there is Doctor Viktor Nikiforov–a Russian ex-pat psychologist who, rumor has it, served out his compulsory Russian military service as one of the top interrogators for GRU.

“Why is he here?” Yuuri hears Michele muttering to Sara at one point, during a long night when their only sustenance has been the vending machine two floors down. “That Russian guy. He gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“It probably has something to do with the nine books he’s written on the psychology of serial killers,” Sara says to him, “and the fact that he’s Feltsman’s nephew.”

“A guy who thinks like a serial killer for a living?” Michele mutters. “And he’s not a suspect?”

Sara raises her eyebrow. “Pot and kettle, Micky. And for the record, I think that’s the point–everyone in this room has gone way further down the rabbit hole than any sane person should. Maybe Nikiforov is here to make sure it’s not one of us.”

Viktor Nikiforov is mysterious, and probably not trustworthy, but Yuuri gravitates towards him like a moth to flame. 

“So are you here to make sure we don’t all go gonzo and kill each other?” Yuuri straight-up asks him one day, and Viktor barks out a surprised laugh. 

“I would be lying if I said no,” Viktor says, “but I would also be lying if I said yes.”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “Did you get that answer out of a magic eight ball? Should i shake you to get a different answer?”

Viktor laughs again. Yuuri doesn’t think he’s seen him laugh before. It takes away some of the severity, and makes him actually look like he’s in his early thirties–the constant, considering wrinkles on his forehead add ten years when present.

“I know it sounds rather ostentatious,” Viktor says, “but I really can’t tell you anything else.”

“What can you tell me, then?”

Viktor’s eyes are very blue, and very intelligent as they roam over Yuuri’s face before he finally says, “That if you really wanted to–you’re a good enough profiler to figure out everything about me that you want to know.”

When all signs start pointing towards someone within the investigation being the suspect, Viktor comes under immediate fire–and Yuuri has to choose which side he lies on. 

“Why should I trust you?” Yuuri demands, standing tucked in a corner of Viktor’s office, Viktor pleading with him through long lashes and platinum fringe.

“I can’t tell you anything that would answer that question for you,” Viktor says. “You have to make that decision yourself. But I want you to know, Yuuri–I have never lied to you.”

And Yuuri, who doesn’t think he has ever truly trusted somebody in his adult life, believes him. 

Part One: I Could Just Eat You Up. (My Bloody Valentine S05E14)

Episode Summary: Castiel helps Sam, Dean and the reader hunt down Cupid on Valentine’s Day after people begin killing each other for love. But things become worse when each of them starts to be consumed with their own lust for hunger.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 4,605.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Originally posted by everlastingstarlight

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PETER JÖBACK: So… I expected to maybe like him better than I did? Cause I like what he brings to the role, how he talks about it, I like so much *around* the actual interpretation and performance. But was kinda underwhelmed. Or, I liked his Phantom. Quite a bit, in fact. But I didn’t *love* his Phantom.

So, OK, his Swedish Phantom was definitely the most solid of the lot. He sounded more comfortable singing in his mother tongue, not forcing an accent, which made him less twangy. A very good thing. Also, he seemed to maybe have more leeway with the acting specifics, which made him add some discrete ad-lib-ing moments. And yet…

Though his Phantom was solid in so many ways, I still had the feeling of seeing more of a caricature? Like, more Phantom Manor than Phantom of the Opera. More how he thought the role should look than what the character is. Everything seemed just a *bit* exaggerated. And frankly, though he probably sung his heart out, I didn’t quite feel he had the voice to nail it. Like, he has the range, but not the booming quality. You can do elements of kitsch if you have the voice to justify it (Ian Jon Bourg, Scott Davies). But with a good voice with pop phrasing, you better keep the acting on the classy or classical side, so there is a balance. But he went for exaggerated hand gestures, lots of bent knees, and not fully justified moments, paired with a good voice with a pop approach.

All that said, I saw two slightly different performances from him. One Friday evening, where he clearly struggled voice wise, shifted way too much between chest voice and falsetto, and rather devastatingly missed the high note in «Down Once More». Also finished MOTN long before the orchestra. I was like «???». I remembered him as vocally much better. Turns out he is. That performance was either an off-night or just low energy. On the Saturday matinée he seemed more secure, with steadier voice, longer notes and also not missing any key notes. Was very happy to see him a second time and see that he handled the score fine.

I quite liked him in the Mirror Scene, the Phantom’s curse, as Red Death and in the Final Lair. Those were stand-out scenes for me. Those are also scenes where you expect the larger-than-life acting. His MOTN in the Saturday matinée was also quite nice, and he did a gorgeous «soooaaaar».

His Final Lair was definitely the most interesting one. He stumbled around stage with bent knees, was quite unpredictable, and displayed some fine acting. I also loved his added «NEEEEJ!!!», pronounced like a small, spoiled child experiencing someone taking his toys away. He did it three times; one after Christine throws the wedding veil at him, once right before letting Raoul loose of the magical lasso, and I can’t remember the third one. It was a good detail.

Yet, I stand by what I wrote above, about his Phantom feeling like a caricature at places, and that he has too much of a pop sound in his voice. Things I thought could be done differently. But all in all a solid Phantom, a good voice, and the sole reason this production came to be, probably. I was very happy to see him twice, to see how he might do stuff differently the second time, and to get a feeling of what his Phantom was all about. And it should be added that he had good chemistry with Emmi Christensson.

EMMI CHRISTENSSON: WHAT. A. GEM!!!!!!! Gorgeous, soaring, clear, bell-like, strong voice. A nuanced and detailed portrayal. So beautiful on stage.

I saw her as Cosette in the Norwegian tour in 2014, and adored her voice. I’ve heard clips from her London run as Christine, and loved it. So obviously I was hyped to see her live in Stockholm. But she was WAY better than I imagined. She had moments of very nervous, distressed emotions - not quite on the level of Anna O’Byrne, but still distressed. Kinda hammering the palm of her hands over her ears in the WYWSHA intro is one example, desperately trying to kill the voices. She also looked so perfectly innocent on stage.

Standout scene for me was WYWSHA - the whole thing seemed so genuine and so in despair. Instead of going for «listen to the grandeur that is my voice», she took it down a notch, displaying Christine’s grief and solitude. It was really nice. A bit similar to Mia Karlsson in Copenhagen. TOM was also a thing of beauty. Such a gorgeous voice, so feather light and pleasant and yet with a strength, especially the upper notes. TOM was a scene I never wanted to end, in large because of her voice, but also because of Anton Zetterholm’s acting, and because of the GORGEOUS World Tour Elissa skirt. Baaah.

Also, the Swedish translation of «The tears I might have shed for your dark fate…» is one of my favourites out there, and was extremely well delivered by Emmi C: «Du kunde fått förståelse och stöd. Men nej - jag kunde se dig DÖD!» (you could have gotten understanding and support (from me). But no (now) I could (happily) see you DEAD). That’s strong words.

All in all, Emmi Christensson really is one of those ultimate Christines. I loved her portrayal, I adored her voice, I loved many of the details, and she totally looked the part. And she’s Swedish too. Can’t beat that combo.

ANTON ZETTERHOLM: Due to a very Copenhagen-esque directing in the Swedish revival, Anton Zetterholm did have moments where he reminded a bit of Tomas Ambt Kofod. And y’all know that will never be a bad thing, as Kofod is probably my all-time fave Raoul.

That’s however not to say that Anton Zetterholm was a blueprint. He had moments where I got the feeling he tried to imagine why Raoul reacted as he did. For example, a more unique detail was exactly HOW bored Anton’s Raoul seemed to be during TOM, tapping his fingers, looking around, mostly looking like he wanted to leave. When Mme Firmin looked through her binaculars, he seemed to get curious and borrow them from her, only to discover it’s CHRISTINE, and then he is on fire, leading up to his sung lines. The change from utterly bored to super exited was more pronunced than I’ve ever seen it before. Really, REALLY good acting. And also kinda justifying the Phantom’s raging «slave of fashion» - this Raoul isn’t really into music, he’s only into Christine. Though not because the rest of Paris is. Rather due to their childhood friendship.

He also had fine moments in «Little Lotte», where he perceived what Christine told him so innocently and so different from what she intended. He wasn’t brushing her off, but appearing to think she was talking allegorically, but then getting down to business - food, catching up over dinner, the joy of meeting his childhood friend again, the joy over her triumph and her success.

Last, but not least, he really REALLY fought that magical lasso in the Final Lair. I was about to write “like his life depended on it”, which I guess is quite suitable for the role of Raoul in that moment…

And on the shallow side: so cool to see a blonde Raoul. Costume design (and slightly Barton) coming alive!

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Madancy Movie Night 2: The Reckoning

Egged on by precisely no one, @avidreadr2004 and I consigned ourselves to the lot of the eternally traumatised and tormented.  On Wednesday night, armed with tea, ginger ale, and what I’m told is quite good vodka, we watched Basic Instinct 2.

We barely escaped with our lives.

As it turns out, if you want to venture into Hell, using the buddy system is a quite good tactic.

Highlight reel below the cut:

(NOTE:  It is long.  Very long.  Because this film is so terrible that the only way I could cope was by continually typing out sarcastic comments of decreasing coherence and increasing capitalisation.  On the other hand, ow, my fingers.)

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anonymous asked:

omg tell about meeting Esparza! :)

Buckle up anon for the essay you never asked for.

Okay SO I had always told myself that if I ever got to meet him or send him a letter, out of all the things I would like to say there was one thing that was the most important I convey to him, and I’m sure this will sound creepy but all in due time, it will be explained.

I don’t live in the US. I never have. I’m a whole ocean away in UK, which is my second adopted country at this point. I never thought I would EVER meet this man and it was perfectly okay because I’m not one to fangirl or get star struck, so even if I wrote him a letter with my important message that would be fine. 

I went to New York in the Summer to celebrate finishing my MA degree and there I was sitting on my friend’s toilet scrolling through Twitter when Bryan Fuller tweeted out links to a surprise Hannibal panel happening THE NEXT DAY and of course, there were never going to be tickets left, but apparently it had been added in the ten minutes before his tweet so somehow homegirl got tickets for both panels.

I went. 

I showed up two hours early and camped out near the toilets and made friends with all the staff, who kept letting me in and out whenever I needed to vape without having to queue. 

When the doors opened I immediately sat front row centre before anyone else could but soon realised NO ONE ELSE was sitting front row and wow wasn’t that embarrassing.

So he showed up and I sat through the panel and it was consistently very awkward for me having to play Audience Anchor because when someone sits front row that’s usually where you look to for audience gauging. So that was Fun TM. 

When the panel was over I knew where the back exit was because that’s where I had gone out vaping during every break so I wouldn’t disturb the people queueing. So I decided, you know what, I don’t live here, I can’t believe I was even this lucky since I was only in New York for TWO WEEKS and somehow this panel happened while I was there, and you know, fuck caution, I need to say this. 

So he came out at the back and I called out his name and I speak Spanish so man full on turned on his heel because I’m pretty sure in my nervousness I legit called him señor. And instead of standing like at a regular distance man came straight up to my face to the point where I could feel the human warmth coming off his skin which is terrifying I mean how do you sleep at night in Summer he is a human radiator??

I told him, you know, I’m so sorry for disturbing your evening, I don’t even live in New York so I’m still dazed that I happened to be here when you did this panel. This small man just lights up and starts waving his hands around, says “I KNOW RIGHT” while telling me very enthusiastically that he was actually on holiday with his family when he heard the other panel had fallen through, so he messaged the festival organiser asking if they would have him, and the second it was confirmed he literally flew out to New York that same morning before the panel. I told him I’m not the autograph-and-selfie kind of person so “please don’t worry I’m not here to give the Fan Experience TM, and I don’t want to take time out of your evening because you’re probably going out for dinner, I just had something really important that I’d like you to know”. And he got really close and was staring straight into me and I was like well it’s now or never.

So I told him.

I told him I had spent an entire year so deep in depression that I had to put my studies on hold. That I didn’t shower or eat for days on end. That I would spend weeks without seeing the sun or talking to people. That I lived in this sort of suicidal limbo, alone in my house, with no one asking after me. That because of my depression I had stopped being able to enjoy things, anything at all. I hadn’t turned my TV on in over 6 months. I couldn’t watch TV or films (and I’m a huge cinema buff) I couldn’t even play videogames or read books. There was literally nothing I enjoyed anymore. I had lost everything. I was suicidal. I ended up in the ER (A&E) here in the UK so many times for trying to throw myself in front of buses, or passing out from a panic attack. I hurt myself consistently. I cut myself, I scratched myself, so on.

My mother likes having the TV on, she hates silence. One day she flew over to help me with the house and we decided to just put the TV on a random channel. Universal airs NCIS and she likes NCIS so that was my thought. And I was kneeling on the floor helping my mother unpack when I heard his voice on the TV and I turned and there was something about his voice and the way he spoke and carried himself that made me feel comfortable and at ease and safe but also in a way that I found myself hanging on his every word, enough to make me keep watching.

“So, you single-handedly got me back into watching TV.” I said “And then from there I managed to watch films, and read books, and play videogames, and shortly after that I was laughing and smiling.” 

So at this point he’s just staring at me like he was hit by a truck and I’m trying very hard not to cry because it’s hard talking about this. So I smiled and I literally said.

“I just wanted to thank you for saving my life.”

And he suddenly gets very fidgety. He starts rubbing his face and then I notice he is genuinely crying and he keeps saying, over and over, in this endless loop.

“Oh my god. Thank you for telling me this. It means so much to be told that. Thank you so much for telling me. I can’t explain to you how much it means.” 

And I’m just standing there in SHEER HORROR because I made Raúl Esparza cry which is even more evident because we are exactly the same height so I kept having to look at his face up very close at eye level and I could see him crying. So at this point I have no idea what to say (rare for me, I am a social butterfly) and he’s still stuck in that loop and suddenly he just stops talking and looks me dead in the face and goes.

“What’s your name?”

And I’m Portuguese so to excuse my weird-ass accented name and I said “Inês” with my full accent, which I never use because it’s a language specific way of saying it. But I thought, he’s Cuban-American I’m sure he’s come across similar.

He just smiles at me. He literally goes and grabs my hand in both of his and he’s still half-crying and smiling and shaking my hand and literally says

Nice to meet you, Inês. I’m Raúl.”

And I couldn’t help myself and said “I think I have a vague idea of who you are.”

And he laughed a lot and I honestly could have had a longer conversation because he wasn’t trying to leave, but I told him, you know, I’ve taken so much of your time, I told you this really important thing so I will let you enjoy your evening. And we parted ways.

So yeah this is the story of how I made Raúl Esparza cry.

A Little Dream

When you woke up, you had a feeling that some time had past and you have no idea where you were and what had happened. But then you feel the cotton sheet and cotton pillows under you and you glimpsed at worn and aged book lying open beside you, its pages fluttering gently from the air conditioner. You blinked, as your brain activated itself from its sleepy haze, and looked around the room.

You were in your bedroom, sleeping on your bed but you could have sworn you had been in the kitchen a few moments ago. You couldn’t remember anything clearly. Your vision was strangely fogged up and your tongue felt numb along with your lower back for some reason, like when you go to the dentist and your mouth feels numb because of the drugs afterward. The door to the room was slightly open and down the stairs, you could hear clinging of pots and kitchen utensils. Must be Hannibal, you thought and suddenly your head pulsed with pain.

Flashes of a man bursting in through a door with a gun at hand and a screaming and fighting and then flashes of a knife and blood appeared in your eyes, as clear as day now and you quickly sprang up and ran out the bedroom to the landing of the stairs and then you stopped. You looked at your hands that had been covered in blood but were now clean and dry. You frowned in confusion. Nervously you clutched at the stairwell rail and called down the steps. ‘Hello? Hannibal, is that you?’

For a moment there was silence, and the clinking stopped and then a voice called back up. ‘Yes, Y/N.’

You breathed a sigh of a relief. It must have been a dream. You hurried down the steps and made your way to the kitchen. On your way there, you gave the door a brief glance and shook your head when you found it unbroken and unscratched. But unknowing to you, a small spot of blood stained the wooden floor.

Hannibal was cooking again. The smell of herbs and meat and vegetables wavered all through the hallway, making your mouth water and your stomach to grumble in hunger. Now that you think of it, you were starving.

He was standing with his back towards you by the kitchen counter when you entered and you stepped behind him and wrapped your hands around his waist, nuzzling your face into his back. ‘Hey,’ you greeted. Your voice was muffled a little bit by his shirt. You saw his cheek hook up as he smiled.

‘Evening.’ He greeted. ‘Nice sleep?’

You blushed red and buried your face further into his back groaning. He chuckled.

‘I am sorry.’ You said. ‘I was going to cook dinner and everything, and then I guess i got tired and went up for a little rest or something, though I can’t remember anything of it now. But now I kind of regret it because rest was the last thing I got.’

He turned around and kissed you on your cheek before moving some dirty bowels to the sink by the wall. ‘What do you mean?’

You groaned again and rubbed your eyes. Even thinking about it made your head hurt, even if it was just a dream.

‘Nothing. Just a crazy scary dream.’ You shrugged off. You pushed yourself up against the counter, and seated yourself on it, your legs dangling a foot off the ground. You were quite short, you thought to yourself, or was it the counter was too tall? You bet it was the latter.

‘Want to talk about it?’ Hannibal said, drawing your attention again. He pulled out some tomatoes and avocadoes from the fridge and you moved to help him. You took them from him and placed them in a clean bowl and moved them to the sink to wash them. Meanwhile, he took out the cutting board.

‘Hmm, not really but it was crazy. It was me just standing in the hallway across from the front door, framing the new pictures I printed off from last weeks beach trip. I picked them from the booth yesterday. They turned out great, by the way; did you see them?’

He nodded. You were done cleaning and you passed him the bowl. He started slicing.

You continued. ‘Then, there is just loud bam against the door, like someone is kicking it and the next thing I know, there is plaster and dust everywhere and the door is laying on the floor. In the doorway, a large man, never seen him before, broad shouldered and buffy in the arms steps in, screaming for you. I try to tell him that you weren’t here and that he should go before I call the cops. He didn’t.’

You tremble as you remembered his cold voice and menacing eyes. Hannibal stopped slicing and now stood rigid in his place, probably waiting for you to continue. However, his face was flushed red and his jaw clenched in hidden anger.

‘He pulled out a gun out of his pocket and pointed it towards me. He said. ‘If it can’t be him, might as well be you.’ I didn’t know what he meant. He pulled the trigger but before he could shoot, I ran down the hallway into here, the kitchen. I could hear him cursing behind me as he followed at my heels. I was so scared…The next thing i knew, he had grabbed at my arm and the gun was pointed right into my forehead. He was going to do it; he was going to kill me. I didn’t have a choice, so I pulled a knife quickly from one of the drawers and stabbed him…I stabbed him’ your voice was cracking now and tears glistened in your eyes. ‘Oh god, the blood, Hannibal. There was so much blood, soaking his dress suit and he coughed some up as well. He fell to the ground, then and he died… I killed him. But I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to, but he was going to kill me. He was. ’

Suddenly you were swept into Hannibal’s arms and you buried your face into his neck. Tears now streamed down your cheeks, and soaked his shoulder. You felt his hand stroke your hair and he placed a kiss on your cheek. ‘It’s alright. Sh, Y/N…It was just a bad dream. Nothing is going to hurt you. I am not going to let anyone hurt you. It was just a dream.’

You let out sniffles for a few moments while he comforted you before jumping back. You didn’t realize how stupid it was, crying over nothing but a nightmare like a five year old kid. Your face flushed red and you gave him apologetic smile.

‘Sorry. I am just being silly.’ You stammered, wiping away your tears and letting out a dry chuckle. ‘God, I can’t believe I was crying over something so stupid. I am fine. Sorry.’

Hannibal smiled. ‘It’s perfectly alright. Nightmares, at times, can be quite overwhelming.’

You smiled back and neared him again. ‘Of course, and I don’t even need to worry with you here, do i? Captain Hannibal, my own personal hero.’ You teased.

He wrapped you in his arms again and kissed your head. ‘You got that right, Ma’am. I am always here to save and protect and punish.’ Over your head, he looked at the slack of meat on the counter in a platter of dressing and a grin curled over his lips slowly.

You laughed.

‘Well, you can punish the bad guys later on. First save me from starvation and get to the kitchen, man. I am hungry.’

He gave you a bow. ‘At your service, Madam.’

The many flavours of Hannibal’s kills

Hannibal Classic

Hannibal’s classic MO is to mutilate his victim while still alive, to kill them, eat part of them, then display their body in an artistic tableau.  Examples of this are Jeremy Olmstead (the wound man), and presumably the couple posed as Botticelli’s Primavera.  The precise manner of the mutilation, the killing or the tableau may serve an additional purpose.  For example, Hannibal killed Dr. Nahn in the same way that Abel Gideon was killing his former psychiatrists – with the additional cannibalistic twist – as a way of reclaiming his identity as the Chesapeake Ripper from Gideon.

The victim’s death may serve the purpose of sending a message, and that may even be what prompts a particular murder.  But, at the same time, it doesn’t affect Hannibal’s basic MO.  He enjoys the power he feels mutilating and killing his victims.  He enjoys dining on their flesh.  And then he uses their body to create a work of art or to send a message.  Using their death for a more practical purpose (usually to send a message to Will, or to the FBI in general) adds a garnish to his enjoyment of committing the murder.

But there’s more to Hannibal’s violence than that Chesapeake Ripper persona.

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#SummertimeSlick - Psychic Bond - [Alpha!Hannibal x Omega!Will canonverse au]

Being bonded to an alpha was not in Will Graham’s plans, so when it came to being bonded to a serial killing, cannibal alpha it’s so far from anything he had ever imagined that he just had to give up on planning anything ever again.  (for @hannigram-a-b-o-library)

Being bonded to an alpha was not in Will Graham’s plans, so when it came to being bonded to a serial killing, cannibal alpha it’s so far from anything he had ever imagined that he just had to give up on planning anything ever again.

It didn’t help that Will was also working for the FBI in the behavioural sciences department, hunting said serial killing cannibal alpha. Yeah, Will’s life was a mess.

Turns out messy lives can have varying degrees of trashiness. And of course Will would be sitting atop the biggest pile of rubbish with a trash crown on his head. Will’s beloved, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, was his true mate… his one and only… His soul bond. FML

Little known fact about true mates- you get the extra gift of a psychic bond.

Keep reading under the cut 

Or read on AO3 and subscribe to follow the month of prompts

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::This was quite the clever idea for an imagine, and by far I think this is going to be my favorite imagine, thanks Anon! I feel like breaking the forth wall in some way today, talk to me, lovelies::


(F/N) - Friend’s Name

(F/D) - Favorite Drink

          The job you’d always wanted, and you everything was finally right in the world. All of the hours spent pencil pushing, and now you were here; This plush office life was just for you, a comfy chair, room with a view at the pay- The pay was- Alright alright, Who are we kidding, you’ve all read my other stories. The reader is never a hundred percent okay in any of them; so let me tell you about how your life is really going. In reality, your back breaking work meant nothing, surprise! This is real life, So let’s give you a lesson 101 on how much of a shit show it is; You’re working in what you were sure used to be a closet, seeing as how the were no windows. Your chair, was straight from the kitchen table, you even had to buy your own cushions; And your position might as well be the assistant to the assistant’s assistant, so you were basically basically paid fuck all. Yeah, It was that bad; Now let’s spice it up with some fun, phone call!

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fhimechan  asked:

Hello! :-D I would like very much to read about a season 1 AU where Will and Hannibal start secretly to date each other. They are discovered when everyone goes to a fancy Christmas party in another city. All the guests are talking about Hannibal's date, but Jack never gets the name or the gender...until he sees them. Possibly first person POV and smitten and ridiculously embarassed Will and Hannibal! Also, Bev, Alana, Bella and sassy science team.

I love this! Thanks for the great prompt :D I actually have a half written season 1 AU where they start dating - 13k words so far but not sure when I’ll ever get to finishing and posting it. Even so, I made an effort to do this in a different way in case I ever do post that one. Hopefully you enjoy it, tried to make it a little fun. 

Also doubles as a prompt fill for today’s #HanniHolidays ~ Eskimo Kisses! 

[My Fics on Tumblr] [TigerPrawn on AO3] [Shout Me A Coffee] [Commissions]


It wasn’t even mid-December and Jack was already about to lose his goddamn mind with all the festivities. Aside from the forced Christmas cheer at Quanitco, the Christmas functions had started in November and now he was being dragged to his third one. The one with Bella’s work had been bad enough, the one for the FBI had been a little excruciating. All the more so for Bev telling Bella about the new exhibition opening at the Smithsonian’s Forensic Anthropology department, that they were trying to get tickets for.

“Oh Jack. That sounds fascinating! And a weekend in Washington would be lovely.” Bella had smiled knowing that there was no way Jack would deny her anything. His only hope was that they wouldn’t get tickets.

But of course, Bev managed it. Jack pocketed his phone with a sigh, having just received the confirmation via text.

“Everything ok, Jack?” Hannibal asked as they stood at the edge of the crime scene.

“Yeah, just… How many Christmas events can people seriously fit into December?” He let out an exasperated sigh.

“I know what you mean, I have far more invites than time, myself.” Hannibal chuckled lightly and then hesitated as he seemed to consider whether or not to give over the next piece of information. “I… I can at least console myself that they give me the opportunity to spend more time with my… paramore.”

Jack smiled at that. “And how long have you been seeing this special someone?” he teased.

“Oh.” Hannibal waved a dismissive hand. “Several weeks now, but we’re taking it slow. It’s all rather private at the moment.”

Jack was sure he didn’t imagine the sigh at the end of that. Perhaps the doctor wanted things to be moving faster with his mysterious date. He wasn’t sure if it was an invitation to ask, but Jack wasn’t going to pry. Besides, Jimmy was waving them over with an excited look, which likely meant he was about to see something horrifyingly disgusting.


Dinner with Bella had been lovely until it was crashed by his lab team, all excited about their shared night off in Washington. Jack had to wonder at the people who considered it a fun thing to spend a night off from forensics at an exhibition about forensics.

By the time they had paid for dinner and pulled Brian from the girl he had been chatting up at the bar, the exhibition was well underway.

Jack had to admit, the festive forensics exhibition on frozen corpses was interesting, and he might be tempted to return in the new year to take it all in better. For now it was too busy, and the socialising and networking seemed to be taking priority over actual viewing of the exhibit.

The lab team had split off from him and Bella, but met back at the drinks table to discover they had lost Brian altogether.

“Probably gone back to the bar.” Bev winked.

“No gossip Katz!” Jack instructed. She only winked again, but more of a mocking exaggeration, which he chose to ignore.

“Hey, isn’t that Doctor Lecter?” Jimmy pointed across the room and Hannibal Lecter was definitely stood by a panel, talking pleasantly to someone whilst holding two glasses of wine.

“Yeah! Let’s go say hi.” Katz replied.

It was only a moment later that Jack recalled what Hannibal had said about taking a date to Christmas events, and stopped them. “Wait, guys, wait!” He put on his authoritarian work tone. “Maybe we should let the doctor enjoy his evening?”

“Oh my god, Jack! What do you know that we don’t?” Bev was grinning at him because of course she immediately had sniffed out the gossip.

“Look, Hannibal is here with a date, maybe he’d like to be alone and keep that on the down low?” Jack told them in a low voice.

“What?” Bev looked way too excited. “I have to check this out! He’s a catch, can’t wait to see who managed to bag him!”

Bev took off at an almost trot, leaving Jack and Jimmy to try and keep up whilst Bella shook her head and grinned. Did he try and stop Bev? She was a grown ass woman and shouldn’t be his responsibility. But he did feel bad for letting slip about Doctor Lecter.

As they had moved forward, Hannibal moved too, apparently having seen someone. He’d started towards the door that lead out to the bathrooms - his date was no doubt returning.

Jack wasn’t sure what - who - they had been expecting. But when Will Graham appeared, smiling and holding out his hand for Lecter’s second glass, all three of them looked like they were catching flies as they came to a crashing halt.

“Oh… but…” Jimmy started.

“What… do we do?” Bev looked dumbstruck.

“We turn our asses around and pretend like we saw nothing at all.” Jack told them. Even as he said it he tried to turn, but it appeared that all three of them were glued to the spot. They hadn’t yet been noticed, but from their clear vantage point they could see the two men - their colleagues - smiling and chatting easily. Flirting, clearly.

And then Doctor Lecter leaned in and was whispering something in Will’s ear that made the goddamn man blush! When he pulled back Will leaned forward and for a moment Jack thought they were going to kiss.

It was worse.

“Oh my god!” Bev clapped her hands to her mouth and then muttered through them “that is just too adorable!”

Will had rubbed his nose against Hannibal’s. Eskimo kisses! Damn eskimo kisses!

And then Jack noticed one of Will’s hands casually snaking around the doctor’s waist and then down to rest on his…

“Oh come on!” Jack hadn’t meant to sound as indignant as he did. Nor as loud.

Will and Hannibal turned and looked at the same time and then everything happened in slow motion. Jimmy and Katz gasped. Will and Hannibal both went wide-eyed and red-faced - a perfect mirror of Jack. All this just as Bella appeared at his arm and muttered -

“Oh my!”

“What do we do?” Jimmy spoke in stage whisper as all six of them stood frozen - eyes fixed on each other.

“We are all going to turn and walk out of here like this never happened.” Jack regained enough composure to reply. “We’re going to go back to that bar, likely find Zeller drowning his sorrows after having struck out. And we will join him and drink until we obliterate this memory from our minds.”

“But… it’s so cute!” Bev interjected. “the way Will grabbed his ass is just-”

“You do what you want Katz, but come Monday when I have to work with them, I know I need to be able to look them in the face. And one more eskimo kiss is going to make that real difficult for me, I’m not going to even acknowledge the ass grab!”

“Ok, good point.” Bev turned on her heel and started towards the coat check. All but Jack followed suit.

He waited a moment and made full eye contact with Hannibal and Will before giving a curt nod. The doctor returned the nod - perhaps an acknowledgement that this would be mutually ignored. Either way, Jack figured that Will must not have been so happy with that, or else had decided the gig was up, because his eyes narrowed and he looked between Jack and Hannibal. And then he grabbed Hannibal’s tie and pulled him into a very public kiss that likely had the doctor’s toes curling.

As Jack turned and left, trying to work out just how much liquor he’d need to scrub his brain, he was just glad Zeller hadn’t been with them. If there was one thing he was even less happy to deal with come Monday it was Zeller’s jealous sulking.

Dark of the (Nighttime) Matinee

More punk Frank imagines! They’re really good.

So I actually really liked this prompt (because it’s so general in nature), that I’m going to write two fics because there’s definitely a shortage of Punk Frank imagines on my part. One will be smut… one will be more fluff. I think from the title you can guess that this is the smut one.

Warnings: Theatre shenanigans…. That’s about it. 

It was just a rainy day, another day where you were curled up on your couch, home alone watching a scary movie on your laptop. For some reason you had chosen to rewatch Silence of Lambs, even though you remembered how much it freaked you out the first time you saw it. You were clutching your blanket, the tension building as Clarice went to see Hannibal, your nerves on edge when suddenly you heard someone knocking on the terrace door.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt (if you don't mind): instead of his ship-on-the-bottle aftershave Hannibal can smell that Will has preformed cunnilingus before meeting with him either at the BSHCI or for an appt

I don’t know if this is what you wanted? I hope you like it anyway, even though I made it post season 3? 


There were rumors going around that his husband had a wandering eye. He had heard whispered giggles when he would pass by the professors at the college, whispered talk of “Dante’s talented tongue” and how “Professor Adami must not satisfy him.”

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anonymous asked:

Hi! I love the way to write, you are so talented! My prompt is: 'shut up and hug me'. Please, please, please ^^ Have a nice day!

Thanks for the prompt, Nonny.  Have a great rest of the weekend! - WotS

“Empty Without You”   

Will sat alone in his bed, their bed, his back against the tall headboard; the light of dusk softly flooding the room. He absentmindedly held the switch of the bedside lamp in his hand, flicking it on and off repeatedly. His glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose as he stared off into the distance, not really looking at anything.

Light on.
Light off.

On the laptop next to him Turley Richards’ cover of “My World is Empty Without You” played on repeat. A continuous loop of an auditory reminder that Will Graham just loved to fuck things up for himself. Always.

Light on.
Light off.

Their argument had been prompted over something silly and insignificant really, as most arguments tend to be, but Will had allowed himself to continue with it, to move forward, knowing full well that his words were meaningless to him. There was no real bite to Will’s bark, he just still couldn’t believe that he could be this happy – that the universe would have ever allowed him to be this incredibly happy. So he did what Will Graham always does. He tried to sabotage his own bliss.

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Welcome to California - Spacedogs ABO series

Welcome to California and Beyond - drabble for your reading pleasure :)

amazing art by the wonderful @theadventurouspancake

True Mates

It’s rare that Adam is still asleep when Nigel wakes up. Usually Adam serves as Nigel’s human alarm clock - nuzzling into him, climbing over him, squirming around until he can’t wait any longer for his alpha to wake up. But there are the few occasions like this, that even after a year together, Nigel finds melts his heart.

They’d had a late night - dinner out with Lynnette and Angela to celebrate the anniversary of when they got together. Adam had insisted this be from their first date. Nigel had initially wanted it to be from when they had bonded, but Adam’s heat - much like the man himself - was pretty much cycled to a firm routine and so their anniversary would have fallen during his heat, not really allowing them to celebrate it in the same way. Nigel had conceded but with the proviso that they would also celebrate their bonding privately. He’d whispered the sort of ways in which they might do that which had made Adam blush and giggle before kissing him passionately… for starters.

Nigel was mesmerised by his little omega, he’d only seen him like this in the morning light a few times, and every time it took his breath away. The dark curls falling over closed eyes, porcelain skin looking like it would turn to milk and flow away as soon as he touched it. The curve of his body as he lay not quite face down in the over stuffed pillow, with the bed sheets gathered low on his naked hips.

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