Inspired by @hotsauce418‘s (alledgedly) accidental use of Edward and Jacob as Hannigram aliases, and cheered on by the lovely @tcbook and @desperatelyseekingcannibals, I can only apologise for this nonsense (of which there may be more…):
“I think we should break up.”
Logically, Hannibal knew there was nothing genuine in
Will’s suggestion. There was no scent of distress or anger emanating from his
beloved, and though his tone was grim, Hannibal could easily detect the twist
of amusement running beneath it. Besides, even in his most thrillingly
manipulative moments, Will would never go so far as to play with Hannibal’s
fear of being separated once again. They had long passed beyond those kind of
Logic did nothing to stop the tight constriction of
Hannibal’s heart on hearing the words, though, even as he raised an eyebrow in
Will’s direction, schooling his features into an expression of mild curiosity.
“If you say so, my love. Might I be permitted to know what
heinous indiscretion I have committed before you cast me from your presence
Will’s smirk eased the insistent, irrational tightness in
his chest. This was going to be a game, then. That was good. They both enjoyed
their games, now that they tended to end with Will in Hannibal’s lap, rather
than Hannibal’s knife in Will’s gut.
“I’ve discovered your dirty little secret,” he said, eyes
dancing with unrestrained glee.
“I assure you, dear Will, I have shared with you every
one of my secrets, both dirty and clean. There is nothing left hidden between
us, I am your open book,” Hannibal said, spreading his hands as if to
illustrate this. It was true, Will held all the details of Hannibal’s life
within him, every secret, every story, every memory that constituted Hannibal
Lecter. Even Mischa.
Will’s lips split on a grin and his expression turned
horribly smug. “An interesting choice of words…”
Hannibal sat a little straighter in his armchair as Will
strolled into their sitting room, admiring the easy grace with which the formerly
twitchy, awkward man now moved, anticipating the moment Will would deposit
himself upon his waiting lap. He was a little disappointed, therefore, that
instead of his warm, pliant self, Will placed, for some reason, a paperback
book on Hannibal’s knees. Hannibal quirked an eyebrow at him and received only
a nod towards the object in response. He looked down and froze.
The book was battered and dog-eared, far from the
pristine, cloth- and leather-bound volumes Hannibal displayed in their home.
Its black cover was creased with use, with a small rip in the bottom corner,
but the artwork was still clear, two pale arms extending from the top edge,
hands brought together in a shape faintly resembling a heart. In them was
cradled a blood-red apple.
Twilight. THE #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER BY STEPHANIE
“I always suspected all that fanboying over Dante was a
front, but I had no idea your tastes were so… teenage,” Will gloated.
Hannibal considered whether it was too late to eat the
The coffee had unthawed Will, he felt oddly sated. Comfortable, even.
Hannibal walked Will to his front door then told him to wait, leaving Will to shuffle his feet and avoid looking too closely at the antler themed decor. He felt like a child, one who was used to abrasiveness and was now being coddled with kindness. He still found the process overwhelmingly awkward and too new to take any enjoyment out of it.
He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and directed his glare to his shoes.
His feet were still sore. He’d soaked them in a bath of hot water after his one-sided call with Jack. Jack being an interesting combination of quiet and reprimanding and concern. He’d sat on the lip of the tub drying his feet for ten minutes before he’d driven to Hannibal’s house. Ten minutes of denial and wondering if Hannibal would be awake or not to even see him.
“Here.” Hannibal came back carrying a small blue thermal bag and held it out for Will to take. “A late breakfast. Or lunch or whenever you decide to give in to your empty stomach.” Hannibal said it kindly and Will didn’t bother asking why he thought that. Will took the bag, going from embarrassed to grateful at the truth of it. “I should warn you, it’s only leftovers. I didn’t have time to cook you something fresh.”
Will wanted to unzip the bag and peak inside. He held back. “This is more than–You’ve really…” Will trailed off. A hysterical blush creeping up his neck. “You have leftovers?”
Hannibal smiled. “I do,” he said patiently. “My freezer would be quite the shock for you.” Will laughed. It was startling and woke him up. “Are you sure you can’t stay? I don’t have any appointments until the afternoon.”
The prospect of spending an entire morning with Hannibal shouldn’t have been so attractive. He also shouldn’t be offering, Will thought. Boundaries a distant term thrown out along with his privacy and solitude.
He shook his head. “I should go,” then added stilted and unbearably sincere. “Thank you, Doctor Lecter.”
Hannibal bowed his head, the fringe of his hear falling in front of his eyes only to be swept away by elegant fingers. Will looked away. It was just one of those mornings.
Q - Are you Team Hannibal, Will or Hannigram?
A - Team Hannigram, all the way!
The potatoes saga…
Hugh invited everyone over and he cooked. Then Mads came over and Hettienne tried to help but they sent her away to sit down and relax.
They were boiled potatoes and Hugh called them spuds.
She said they could have cooked a shoe and she would have eaten it!
Says Team Sassy Science is exactly the same offscreen as on. Aw!
If she had the chance to come back to the show for a flashback scene, she would want it to be with Will so she could talk with him again.
Re. Season 4 she said, ‘I want to see Will and Hannibal hook up and get it on’.
Q - Are you Team Hannibal, Will or Hannigram?
A - Team Hannibal.
Thinks there’s a good chance that Margot and Alana’s son Morgan will have murderous tendencies so he’ll need careful handling!
She 'murdered’ her dying Beta fish by putting it in a ziplock bag (containing water) in her freezer on the advice of her pet store (??!!). She wrote an epitaph on the bag, lit a candle and sat on the floor, swigging vodka and crying, as the fish drifted off to sleep in the freezer.
She doesn’t think that Margot and Alana would have had an official first date (more like drinking whiskey in the basement) and she thinks they would have waited until the second date to hook up.
In the snails scene, Eddie improvised the irritating fork tapping - he wanted to give Abel a way of fighting back. This is his favourite scene.
Sitting round the table with Mads was a lot of fun. He brings a lot to the acting table.
Thinks Abel was too far gone to be rehabilitated and wouldn’t have wanted it, despite his odd flashes of humanity.