So Hannibal spends Will’s heat with him right? Cuz hello, Omega twink, fuck yes!  The red dinner happens, Hannibal snags Will’s coat and takes off.  What he does though is let hang dry along with his blood soaked shirt. Soaked in WILL’S blood. He seals them both away to preserve the scent of Will to indulge in at a later date when its not quite so painful.

A year passes, Hannibal learns Will is looking for him and he decides that now, NOW he can indulge in the scent of his mate. Because if Hannibal has learned one thing is that Will is irrevocably his mate and a year without him has not made the pain less, only worse and he thinks that smelling Will will act at least as a bandage to the festering would he’s had this whole year.

The first whiff when he opens the bag that held the shirt and jacket triggers a memory, something he had repressed, or more accurately, denied, when he first cut into the omega. He sniffs and sniffs and with numb fingers makes a call. Then another, then another until he gets the hospital where Will stayed.

A few well placed phrases and he convinces them that he is Will’s dotcor in Italy and Will was hurt and he needed to know what happened the night Will was brought in. He asks the other doctor to read him the charts

“Patient was approximately 4 weeks pregnant”

is the last thing he hears before the phone drops from his suddenly numb hand, the word WAS reverberating through his head.

Seven Plastic Dogs

Prompted by howishughdancyevenpossible: 1960’s Omega!Will buys a beautiful dollhouse, what he doesn’t know is that it’s haunted by (spirit, demon??) Alpha!Hannibal! Close friends of Will notice that he acts different almost as if he’s being courted and that he speaks about somebody named Hannibal… but nobody ever sees them together. I hope that has enough halloween spirit!! >///< Thank you ♥

If Will concentrated, he could pick out the distinct song of Swainson’s Thrush, pitched a few octaves higher than the soft rush of traffic of the local highway, just outside the suburb. 

He’d always loved their song best, he meditated, as he walked past the conga line of police cars stopped alongside the victim’s home. 

The thrushes were one of the many bird species that New Orleans and Virginia had in common, so explained his spineless and bent field guide, crumpled in the glovebox.

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FIC - The Warrior and the Prince (1/2)

Written for howishughdancyevenpossible and all of us fannibals! :D

TW: Prince Char/One-eye, smut, crack, dark fairy tale (with a non-con second part coming up!)

Please note Char is 16 in this story, so underage!

Warning - this is a strange ficlet indeed! Also, I never write crack, so please tell me if I better go back to my kinky stories instead ^=^

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howishughdancyevenpossiblesaid: Dont do it, dont have them huddling for heat when Hannibal’s machine ruin the heating system, dont have Will cuddling his dogs and giving them treats, dont.

No. That would be a terrible idea. Absolutely terrible. And certainly having Will get aroused and complaining “I’ve been alone for years, okay? Don’t let it go to your head” would be a bad idea. And them drinking whiskey to warm up and then having drunken sex in Will’s terrible hut would be bad. And it wouldn’t be funny if all the dogs started howling when Will was moaning load enough for them all to hear outside his room.

howishughdancyevenpossible asked:

Prompt: older omega!hannibal getting mated by younger inexperienced alpha!will

(i’m making will a little younger than canon. sorry it took me so long to write this, sanny!!)

Hannibal’s not the type of omega that people would ever try to mess with. He doesn’t take suppressants (never has) and he always washes alpha stink right off of him immediately after intercourse because, well, he wouldn’t want anyone thinking that he’s mated and incapable of taking care of himself or something. He’s proud to be an omega and is absolutely offended when people try to make him feel bad about it either through pity or condescension. 

Lately, Hannibal’s been more annoyed than usual. He’s reaching his late 40s now, and people are starting to notice. It’s not as easy for him to pick up an alpha for a one-night stand—or, actually, it is, but he doesn’t attract the kind of alphas he likes anymore. He’s really bored with his options, and he’s sick of people wondering all the time why he’s not mated.

Hannibal is at the grocery store when the scent assaults him. Alpha, but not the usual pungent arrogance that he normally smells in displeasure. No, this alpha is a different brand of intensity. Unassuming, soft, and unavoidably sweet. Hannibal instinctively traces the scent until his basket nearly bumps into a younger man, maybe early 30s, a few inches shorter than him and with a noticeably smaller frame. Before they’ve even made eye contact, Hannibal’s mind is already chanting a chorus of “mate.”

Hannibal’s not one to beat around the bush, so he starts with a soft smile and, “Do I smell as good to you as you do to me?”

The man’s brow furrows in scared confusion, but then he hesitantly nods and looks down at the ground.

Hannibal can’t help himself. He inches closer to the man and bends his head to his level to try to bring his eyes back up. “Do you have a name?”

“Will Graham.”

His voice is even sweeter than his smell. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Graham. My name is Hannibal Lecter. Would you like my card?”

He nods again, and his eyes finally make their way back up to Hannibal’s, looking more trusting this time.

Hannibal reaches into his inner breast pocket and pulls out a business card. Will takes it slowly and looks at it for a long time.

“You’re a psychiatrist?”

Hannibal smiles wider. “Yes. You may make an appointment if you’d like.”

Another nod. “Thank you, Dr. Lecter. It was nice meeting you.”

Will turns to leave then before Hannibal can say anything else, which doesn’t bother him like it should.

Will calls to make an appointment a week later. Hannibal fits him in at the end of the day.

It turns out Will is a lot more talkative than initially demonstrated. Their appointment is more professional than Hannibal expected, and he finds himself enthralled with this alpha for more than just the fact that they would make suitable mates.

Will has a laundry list of identity issues, the first of which that he has never felt like an alpha with the exception of caring for his seven dogs. He’s never had anything else to feel protective of, to call his own, never any desire to take charge or take ownership of anything.

“Will, do you have any desire with me? I’m not asking as a professional,” Hannibal states at the end of their session.

Will takes a long time to answer, but then he nods quickly.

“Tell me.”

“I imagined…bending you over your desk when I walked in. And knotting you. Biting, biting as well.”

Hannibal smells the beginnings of arousal in his office, but he doesn’t know if it’s his or Will’s. “And these desires are not your natural inclination with others?”


“You could ask me, you know.”

Will shifts in his chair and looks skeptical. “Ask you what, Dr. Lecter?”

“I believe you know.”

Will pushes his chest out and his face goes dark. Yes, there’s the alpha. “Dr. Lecter, would you like to take my knot?”

Hannibal feels heat rise in his cheeks at the wording. Take my knot as if Hannibal is the one in the position of action, the position of power. “Yes.”

When they both stand and stare at each other, Hannibal wrongly believes that he will have to guide Will and talk him through this. Instead, he’s turned around and pressed up against Will’s chest so fast he instinctively tenses up.

Will presses a hard kiss to his neck and whispers, “You smell very good.”

Then he’s pushing Hannibal into his chair and removing his clothes for him. He folds them neatly while Hannibal holds onto the arms of the chair and leaks slick down his legs. He feels something constrict in his chest at the thought that Will just knew he’d want his suit folded.

Will runs his hands all over Hannibal’s back and chest before taking his cock in his hand. He pumps a few lazy strokes before finally grabbing Hannibal’s ass with his other hand and pushing at his entrance.

At the sound of Will’s growling moan, Hannibal clenches and begins moving against the pressure. 

Hannibal comes first with the help of Will’s hand, but Will’s not long to follow. His knot feels so good and so big that Hannibal thinks he could get hard again immediately.

Too blissed out to move, they end up knotted for 45 minutes on the armchair, Hannibal sitting on Will’s lap.

“You proved me wrong,” Hannibal says after a while.

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“I thought it was a mistake that you were an alpha.”

Will leans forward and bites Hannibal’s neck hard enough to break the skin. “I did too until today.”

howishughdancyevenpossible asked:

I like the way your mind works *pensive nod* yes

Instant dork: Just add alcohol. XD

And umm…hi! I always see your stuff and pretty much the only reason I am not losing my shit over the fact you are talking to me is the aforementioned alcohol. 

Rest assured, by the lee light of the dawnzer, my shit shall be properly lost.


answered your



So…spacedogs? Anyone got any prompts?

Could we have spaceman!adam meeting alien!nigel!! This is totes for the ‘in actual space’ spacedogs au me and @theshockinglyeloquentdog have! <3

You can definitely have that, my friend! Thank you for the prompt!

“You’re not…”

“Human?” the what-looked-like-a-man-but-wasn’t-actually-one said, amusement in its tone. His tone. Its tone. Adam really wasn’t sure what pronouns he should use, brow furrowed over cerulean eyes as he looked at the man–alien–extraterrestrial–whatever he was. He honestly wasn’t sure what word applied to him–it–him?–and was having trouble even forming words at the moment.

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