dinner at hannibal's

Um this isn’t a fandom blog or any kind of blog really but I had this conversation with fellow fannibal @franicie about murder husbands on social media and I. I had to. And then she suggested I put it on here, so. Just a little sketch thing, used references but drew it quickly so excuse my lazy handwriting/general sloppiness!!

Ritual Sacrifice

I am slowly getting through all the prompts I have right now. So please know if you sent me a prompt, I’m not ignoring you, I just had to get through a monster Spacedogs story first. 

This story is for @victorineb and @desperatelyseekingcannibals, so blame them for this nonsense. I’d also like to thank @kateera for making this readable. 

         Hannibal adjusted his cufflink and smoothed his hands down his jacket, admiring his reflection. Thanks to their new life in Buenos Aires and Will’s general distaste for anything that couldn’t double as the covering of a picnic table, Hannibal had few excuses to wear suits anymore. Adjusting his tie, Hannibal turned, making sure the jacket broke properly to allow for a nice view of his backside. He froze when he heard a clicking noise behind him, his lip curling.

         “No, Martin.” Hannibal warned the shaggy white pup, recoiling slightly when the beast moved to sniff him. “Your fur covers quite enough.”

         The dog cocked his head, a filthy tennis ball in his maw. Hannibal reminded himself again that Will probably loved the cur more than him. With a pained sigh, Hannibal held out his hand and accepted the slobbery ball.

         “Fetch,” Hannibal threw the ball and absolutely didn’t run in the opposite direction.

         Taking a moment to catch his breath after a mad dash down the stairs, Hannibal began his search for Will. The kitchen was abandoned and spotless, his office door still closed. Checking his watch, Hannibal let out an annoyed huff at being made to play both fetch and hide-and-seek on his anniversary.

         “Out here.” Will called, amusement clear in his tone.

         Hannibal followed Will’s voice through the living room to find the door to the lanai open. When he finally spotted Will he stopped so suddenly that Martin and his disgusting toy barreled into the backs of his knees.

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petitmaitre-et-soncorbeau  asked:

Fluffy hannigram! Will saying I love you for the first time? (After realizing it - while watching Hanni being domestic?) Maybe he even says Aš tave myliu? :3

Takes place in some other world, just before their last supper in Mizumono…

“I love you,” said Will.

Hannibal was chopping carrots and his knife stilled midway through. It fell from his hand, still lodged near the leafy green end.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

Hannibal wiped his hands down the front of his apron and turned his gaze from Will. “I assure you, such cruelty is not necessary.”

Will breathed in deep and slow, gripping the edge of the counter. “I lied to you about Freddie Lounds.”

“I know. I would have suggested a less cloying perfume.”

Will’s heart didn’t race, though he wanted it to. That frantic, grounding thump against his ribs. “I won’t make excuses. I thought i was doing the right thing. And I was.”

Hannibal’s fingers played along the handle of his knife. He tugged the carrot from the end and stabbed the blade down into the cutting board. “And what am I to do with this now?”

“The lies? Or the fact that I love you?”

“Are they not one and the same?”

Will braved the trip around the counter, counting each step along the way. He stood before Hannibal, palms upturned, meeting his eyes in perfect honesty. “I want to leave with you. Now. It doesn’t matter where we go.”

Hannibal’s mask began to crack, tears threatening in the corners of his eyes. “You expect me to believe you won’t tell Jack Crawford where we go?”

One more step, and Will was close enough to reach out and touch Hannibal. A simple brush of fingers against the back of his hand. “Why would I do that?”

“Perhaps your cruelty knows no bounds. Perhaps this is the reckoning you were promised to.”

Will wrapped his fingers around Hannibal’s wrist, felt the blood pumping there. “Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust me, in spite of the lies. And I’ll trust you, in spite of…”

Hannibal took Will’s face in one steady hand. In the corner of Will’s eye, the knife glistened. How quickly Hannibal could reach for it. Instead, Will was being pulled forward until his lips met Hannibal’s. The kiss was sweet as the edge of a blade, aching for blood.

“After dinner,” Hannibal said, breaking the kiss, “there’s something I would like to show you.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Will smirked. Free, finally, of his burden.

“Trust me,” Hannibal said, punctuating his words with a kiss, “just as I trust you.”


[hannigram fluff therapy]

anonymous asked:

Hey, do you know how often Will has his sessions with Hannibal in season 1? Is there some kind of hint?

According to the dialogue in “Yakimono,” Will had a standing appointment open in S1 for 7:30 in the evening. Whether that was everyday, every other day, every week, who knows. I expect that it was “as needed,” given his on-call work for the FBI and how desperate they each were to see the other. He is shown having gotten there earlier than that on at least one occasion. Since “Buffet Froid” tells that Hannibal and Will have known each other for two to three months, there were 10 episodes at that point, and most episodes had more than one session in them, I think you’d be safe at saying that Will was seeing him twice per week. 

please tell me that, somewhere in the world, there exists……

a Will/Hannibal post-fall fic where they are forced to travel by cruise ship in order to get to their new home and go into hiding

and it’s like the worst fucking cruise too

with like the most enthusiastic cruise director who literally badgers Hannibal at every turn until he takes a fucking napkin origami class

and Will tries to stay as drunk as possible throughout

and his torn-up face scares the shit out of an innocent child every time he turns down a new hall or walks into a room

which happens a lot because he gets lost down the faceless hallways of each deck trying to remember where his room is a whole lot

and there’s the captain’s dinner and Hannibal is like FINALLY and they both get into formal wear and he expects champagne and dancing and a nice meal

and yeah that happens but Will’s so blah about it (because he’s so drunk) that the rest of the people who want to be friends with the young newlywed couple feel like they aren’t having a good enough time

so then there’s old people making mad sexual innuendo

and Will and Hannibal aren’t fucking because Will put them over a cliff and the’re both still in pretty bad shape, physically, and Hannibal isn’t even sure Will wants to even though he is like heart-tartare-and-flowers OBSESSED with Will Graham, so, like

the food sucks
the company sucks
the wine sucks
there are too many children
he was forced to sit through a fucking disney movie
he’s sharing a room the size of his kitchen with the object of his desire
he was forced to fucking hula dance the other day by the excitable woman

and he totally buys into the other passengers’ plan to Make The Honeymoon More Romantic

and he plays SO nicely and he smiles and laughs and does all these Human things with all these humans and Will is sober long enough to notice

and then he’s like…. we’re not having a Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls moment, Hannibal

and Hannibal is like…. but yeah we are

and Will is like…. i’m gonna go on the daytrip to see some dolphins

and Hannibal is CRUSHED because if there’s anything he despises it’s the thought of the damn dolphin daytrip and Will FUCKING KNOWS IT

so he gets drunk in the top-deck pool and he’s sunburned and miserable when Will gets back

and Will is drained and he threw up so much because the tiny boat was rocking all over the place and he, too, is sunburned and miserable

and they are miserable together and go to the shitty little art gallery to look at the auction items and gawk at how bad the art is

and they are equally appalled

they have no idea how anyone can enjoy any of this bullshit

dolphins are not dogs and Will hasn’t spent time with a dog in WEEKS and it’s really wearing on him

and you can’t even have a hotplate in one of the cabins because it’s a fire hazard so Hannibal hasn’t cooked in WEEKS and it’s really wearing on him

so, in the wee hours of the morning, they bust into one of the kitchens and make real food and Will explains why he likes dogs in completely fluffy, comforting detail until Hannibal understands

and they have a really nice time together and go back to their cabin

and Hannibal still can’t wait to get off this boat and stretch his legs

and he knows that Will is missing the comfort of his animals so he lets Will pet his head until he falls asleep

it’s really, really nice

he kind of contemplates killing the girl on deck three who brought her comfort rabbit on board so Will can take care of the traumatized animal until they make port at the place where they’re gonna jump ship

but he doesn’t

and they’re both less miserable when they wake up the next morning

so they keep spending time together and not with anyone else

and when they go to another formal dinner the others comment that they look much better rested and try to determine in whispers if it looks like they’ve got that lovemaking glow but they decide Will just still looks kinda green from yesterday

and Hannibal asks if he wants to take the portrait class with him

and Will realizes he was blending in with the humans for him

and so he’s like, nah, I want to do whatever you want to do

so they go sneak into the kitchen again, only it’s between shifts and a dude comes in early and they have to lock him in the walk-in

they raid the kitchens for all the supplies they want and they go back to their room to have fine wine and cheeses and maybe make out for a while

until the captain is knocking on their door with security

so they strip real fast and they stumble over to the door in some blankets and they’re like

we don’t know what you’re talking about??? some guy in a kitchen?????? we are on our honeymoon we’re getting it on in here???

and the old folks hear about it and WHOO HOO when they get to the dining room that night

and Will blushes so beautifully and he hides his face at Hannibal’s neck when they dance and Hannibal’s like

OH YEAH.
I’M IN.

The Best Part of Being A Fannibal:

OK, so I’ve had a few people ask me about what the Hannibal fandom is like from the inside. And while my first thought was that it was seriously awesome that the fannibals are so notorious that people ask those sorts of questions, it got me thinking. So I’ve compiled a nice list about my favouite aspects of being a fannibal.

  • Fannibals are fucking funny - like, seriously, our show is actually really serious (most of the time - think of it this way, the cannibal puns are cannon) but the hannibal fandom has like the most chillaxed, cracky sense of humor, but at the same time, we’re joking about the most horrible, gory, subjects. Here are a few examples of the fannibal humor: x, x
  • Our relationship with in the flesh. Seriously. We love those guys. They are our amazing sibling fandom. We will help them at any cost, unless they go against us in which case they’re going down.
  • Our relationship with the creators. Seriously, most creators sort of cringe about the fandom, but the creators of the fannibals are just like. “come here my precious babies can you give me links to your fics?”
  • Hannibal in and of itself. Hannibal is an amazing show. Like my absolute favorite show. It’s super dark and kinda gory it’s got wicked action scenes and amazing character and plot development. To top it all of it is the most visually stunning tv show I have ever watched.
  • I think one of my favorite things about being a fannibal, is our rep. Like, we’re the hannibal fandom, we’re those creepy people in the corner who practically worship a cannibalistic serial killer and are constantly giving out dinner invitations. It’s lovely to watch non-fannibals freak out about something we’ve done. Like, while I definitely don’t think we’re the weirdest fandom, we’re pretty high up there and it’s brilliant.

Now you know why the fannibals are amazing, you should totally join us for dinner! We’re having lamb!

I would like to see a sort of phantom-of-the-opera themed fic, where Will works for the opera, not as one of the singers, but in the orchestra pit.

Originally posted by janexausten

Originally posted by helloyangmal

(long stream-of-thought summary of the story below)

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Alana Finds Out: Discipline

In honour of #ladiesofhannibal week (and also of my one-year anniversary on tumblr a couple of weeks ago) I thought I would post some of the chapters from my long-running Alana Finds Out series that I’ve never put on tumblr before. The overarching theme is Alana figuring out she’d be much better off if she just washed that Hannigram right out of her hair, so it seems appropriate xD.

Also on AO3.


Alana hummed softly as she exited her car and climbed the stairs to Hannibal’s office. It was going to be a good night: she was having dinner with Hannibal at her favourite restaurant; she had managed to extricate herself from work forty-five minutes early; and that meant there was time for a quickie in Hannibal’s office before they went out. Assuming he would go for that – he might want to preserve the sanctity of his office, he could be irritatingly proper about such things.

She shrugged as she passed through the waiting room. It’ll be a great night, anyway. You just might have to exercise a little patience there, Bloom. Not easy, when your boyfriend looks like a damn Viking but she could keep it together. She was a grown woman.

Which did not stop her squeaking like a little girl at the sight that greeted her when she opened the door to Hannibal’s office. Her boyfriend – her buttoned-up, mannerly, very refined boyfriend – was on his knees on his office floor, completely naked and very erect. Completely naked, save for a pair of silver nipple clamps and what appeared to be a leather dog collar round his neck. Completely naked and currently giving a blow job to an equally naked and clearly blissed out Will Graham, who held a riding crop in one hand and Hannibal’s hair in the other.

This was going to take a minute to process.

A minute, incidentally, in which Will had what was clearly an earth-shattering orgasm, moaning Hannibal’s name as he finished. Hannibal who, Alana noted, swallowed with every sign of enjoyment and then gazed up at Will with an adoring expression Alana had never been privilege to.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” Will sighed, leaning down for a kiss.

At this point, Alana felt it was time to interject.

“Ahem.”

The two men froze, lips still pressed together. They stayed like that for a moment, then jumped apart, guilty expressions forming.

“Alana, you’re early,” Hannibal began weakly.

She held up a hand to silence him. “No speaking. No speaking from either of you just yet.” She placed a hand over her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Then she turned to Will. “I thought you hated him.” He had the grace not to attempt an explanation.

Alana looked back to Hannibal, still on his knees and oh, just fuck him still hard. “He accused you of being a serial killer. He tried to have you killed.”

Hannibal looked at her, an odd mix of tenderness and – she couldn’t believe this – pity on his face and said, meekly, “Love makes fools of us all.”

“Love?” spat Alana.

“Love?” asked Will.

“Yes, Will,” Hannibal regained his adoring expression. “Love.”

“Me too.” Will reached out a hand to him.

“Oh, good grief,” Alana exploded. They turned, clearly having forgotten her existence. “Ok, look, I’m very likely never going to speak to either of you ever again, so just to assuage my conscience, this is consensual?”

They nodded. “Very,” Hannibal added.

Alana groaned. “Just yes or no answers, please. Will, are you going to try to kill him again, including via proxy?”

“No.” Hannibal looked like Will had just hung the moon for him.

Alana sighed. “Ok, and the last entry in this round of Things You Should Never Have to Ask Your Cheating Scumbag of a Boyfriend, do you have a safeword?”

They giggled – actually sodding giggled like a pair of fourteen-year-old girls – and Hannibal squeaked out, “Chilton.”

“Seriously.”

Will pulled himself together enough to shrug and explain, “Guaranteed to kill the mood.” Then they were off again, clutching each other for support.

“Oh god.” Alana rolled her eyes and fled. Definitely better off out of that Bloom. Those two idiots deserve each other.