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Fic Rec Mega Post: Big Bang Special Edition

I’ve spent the last month or so mostly reading the amazing fics and illustrations that were produced for the 2016 Hannibal Big Bang organised by @nbchannibalbigbang / @m-oarts. My conclusion: this fandom is ludicrously talented, it is the actual embodiment of an embarrassment of riches <333333

So, here’s the list of what I’ve been reading. The recs will be slightly shorter this time round, simply because this post would be unmanageably long otherwise. Also, I wanted to make clear, this is not, I repeat NOT in any way a “best of” list. It is a “things wot Vic has read” list. If your fic isn’t on here, it’s most likely because a) it’s a WIP and I don’t rec those on these lists; b) it has an unhappy ending and this delicate flower can’t read those cos they trigger her like daddy kink does other people; c) I just haven’t gotten round to it yet, I’m only human and you guys write so much good stuff I just can’t…

Anyway, here we go, under the cut because this is so long it’d take up the whole of your dash:

(Oh, also, I should say that I haven’t said anything about the artwork that accompanies these fics, because I am a visual moron and the extent of my commentary would be: “Oooooh it’s SO PRETTAY!” Suffice it to say, all the artwork is amazing and beautiful and I’m sorry I have nothing intelligent to say about it.)

#hannibal fic rec #fic rec mega post #nbchannibalbigbang #2016 hbb #hannigram #hannibal au #hannigram au #murder husbands #hannibal

If You Go Into The Woods, ch. 4

Finally, about a month after I started posting, Hannigram does Hansel and Gretel is at an end! Phew! My eternal thanks to @theartofjeremyk for their artwork (which is spoilery and therefore placed behind a cut here) and to @evenunevenme for betaing this massive slice of ridiculous. And to @nbchannibalbigbang for organising the event in the first place.

Chapter Four:

Will had known, from the second he saw Hannibal's house in his mind palace, that he would never leave the witch. For all his life, or at least all that he could remember, he had been part of a so-called family, but he had never before found a home. Hannibal had shown him that family was not made of flesh and blood, or signatures on paper, any more than houses were built of gingerbread. The witch had given him acceptance, understanding and love, the likes of which only Bella, so long dead now, had ever shown him before. He had left the study without giving Hannibal an answer only because, when he did give it, he wanted the witch to know how sincerely Will wanted to stay with him, to make this their home in name as well as sentiment.

So he climbed the stairs to his room, meaning to rest for a while before returning to Hannibal to declare himself. Yet he found he could not settle, despite the plush bedding which usually served to quickly lull him to sleep. Thoughts of Hannibal's lips, his breath hot against Will’s skin, his strong hands brushing down his back, kept thronging in his mind, mixing with breathless excitement at the revelation of his magical nature. A thousand years, and more, Hannibal had said. Once, the thought of living so long, while invasive, unwanted emotions battered at his fragile mind and lonely existence, would have caused Will to recoil in horror. But Hannibal had saved him from that.

A thousand years to spend with this man who had saved him, and who saw him and wanted to keep him. How could Will sleep with all that within his grasp?

After around half an hour of restless fidgeting, it occurred to Will that he might sleep better somewhere he could feel closer to Hannibal. He rose from his bed and padded down the hallway towards the witch’s room. After all, he reasoned, unless he had very much misunderstood the tone of what had passed between them in the study, it would soon be his bedroom too. Will couldn't help but grin at the thought, his stomach flipping with nervous, yet pleasant anticipation at the thought of lying with Hannibal, sharing his heat and the touch of his skin. It was hardly the kind of story imagined by little children, the wicked witch and the village freak falling in love, but Will could not think of any ending that would make him happier.

So it was with a joyful heart that he entered Hannibal's bedroom for the first time, gazing enraptured at the elegant furnishings, the deep cobalt walls, the strange and eclectic art that lined them. What most drew his eye, though, was the pile of papers lying on a side table, neatly stacked and tied together with crimson ribbon. Will recognised them instantly as Hannibal’s drawings and felt it would not be an imposition for him to look them over; the witch had often allowed Will to view his sketches, generally of great buildings from foreign lands, or anonymous figures whose identities Will had never desired to question. One or two had been studies of the ravenstag, and those Will had loved so much that Hannibal had gifted him one, which now hung in his bedroom and which filled Will with warmth whenever he glimpsed it.

He lifted the stack and instantly blushed at the sight of his own face, rendered with such detail and beauty that Will could barely believe this could be how Hannibal saw him. If he had still possessed any doubts on the witch’s true feelings for him, this sketch dispelled them for good: it was beyond question that the artist was infatuated with, enchanted by, devoted to his subject. And given the look in picture-Will’s eyes as he gazed out from the paper, those feelings were unmistakably requited.

Reverently, fearful of damaging in any way this physical proof of Hannibal’s love for him, Will untied the ribbon and lifted the top sketch, to reveal a second image of himself, this time with his eyes closed and deep in concentration, settled in his chair in Hannibal’s study. Will’s body language in the picture suggested that he was inside his mind palace, and he wondered if Hannibal had sketched him while Will’s mind was elsewhere. He supposed he ought to feel strange or embarrassed about that, but could not conjure any reaction other than to smile stupidly over the thought of Hannibal, spontaneously compelled to capture his likeness as he worked. As he leafed through the next few sketches, his smile widened until it threatened to split his face in two. All of the sketches were of him, every last one.

Will settled on the huge, luxurious bed and gazed at each of the pictures in turn. There were images of him working in the kitchen, reading in the study, walking with the ravenstag in the grounds. Pictures of him looking serious and scholarly, others of him smiling, relaxed, laughing with his head thrown back with such joy that Will hardly recognised himself. There was even one of him throwing an especially dark look at Freddie’s retreating back. Will suspected Hannibal had particularly enjoyed drawing that one, given the way the pencil had bitten deeply into the paper, giving a powerful, threatening feel to Will’s countenance.

Will had not thought it possible for him to feel closer to the witch than he had at the moment they had kissed, yet, looking through this record of his life in Hannibal’s home, Will felt more bound to the man with every new image. So relaxed and happy was he, that his eyelids began to droop and he considered setting the drawings aside so that he might finally sleep a little while. But as he turned to the next sketch, all thoughts of sleep flew from his mind. In it, Will was not dressed in the well-made, comfortable clothing that Hannibal had insisted on providing. Instead, he was in his ragged, scratchy work clothes, sitting on the stump of a tree as he fed crumbs to a fox lying at his feet.

He might have thought it some coincidentally accurate imagining of Hannibal’s and dismissed it as perfectly innocent. Except that Will recognised his vulpine companion’s markings: it was Winston, the fox he had befriended back home.

Hannibal could not have simply imagined Winston out of thin air.

Hannibal had known of Will before Will had ever come anywhere near his house.

Read the rest on AO3.

Click through for the final illustration (beware: massive spoilers!).

#my fic #2016 hbb #nbchannibalbigbang #hannibal fic #hannigram fic #hannibal au #hannigram au #witch!hannibal #hannigram #hannibal

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

RATING: Explicit PAIRING: Hannibal/Will WORDS: 7,320 of 70,457 SUMMARY: Will and Hannibal have some difficult conversations and begin to plan their escape in earnest.

#hannigram #my fic #the giver au #nbchannibalbigbang #2016 hbb

“It was late in the morning, and the salty smell of the sea and the fish from the harbour was starting to mix with the acrid smell from the workers and boat owners’ sweat in Hannibal’s sensitive nose. The sounds of the screaming seagulls created a familiar environment for Will, reminding him of past days of travelling from dock to dock and fishing in the ocean as a kid, then in that same Mediterranean as an adult, near the house he and Hannibal shared. “I wish I could swim right now” the younger man said “I swear my bones are melting”.

Illustrations for “Italian holidays”, a fanfiction written by @reshispacetdwt for the @nbchannibalbigbang!

You can read it HERE

Enjoy!

#nbchannibalbigbanga #2016 hbb #hannibal art #hannibal fanart #Hannigram #collection #digital art #sea #italy #sicily #my art #art #my fanart #fanart #hannibal lecter #Will Graham #illustration for fanfiction

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

RATING: Explicit PAIRING: Hannibal/Will WORDS: 4,342 of 70,457 SUMMARY: Some information about Mischa comes to light, and Will and Hannibal continue to dance around one another.

#hannigram #my fic #the giver au #2016 hbb #nbchannibalbigbang

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

RATING: Explicit PAIRING: Hannibal/Will WORDS: 6,023 of 70,457 SUMMARY: In this chapter, Hannibal introduces Will to music, Freddie pokes her nose where it doesn’t belong, and now that he’s stopped taking his medication, Will starts to...~feel things

As I mentioned a few days ago, during editing I noticed a big continuity error that I'm working on fixing. Because of that I’ve increased the chapter count so I can keep posting (slightly) smaller chapters to give myself to iron out the wrinkles, but the fic should still be posted in its entirety over the next 1-2 weeks!

#hannigram #my fic #the giver au #2016 hbb #nbchannibalbigbang

Chapter 3 of my Big Bang fic is now up on AO3. Thanks to @theartofjeremyk for the amazing artwork, and to @evenunevenme for being the world’s most patient beta.

Chapter 3

And so Will and Freddie were given rooms in Hannibal’s great house, with beds more comfortable than Will felt was strictly decent, along with fresh clothes and three full meals a day, a luxury that neither sibling had known even before the famine struck. Hannibal’s cooking was remarkable, his lavish kitchen and its cavernous oven producing fine dishes with exotic names, more suited for a royal court than this small, strange household of three. Even Freddie, at first reluctant to accept the witch’s cooking, had been swayed by the rich scent of braised meat and fresh herbs, her first grudging bite turning to a moan of pleasure and a quickly emptied plate.

Will, for his part, had soon wondered aloud how Hannibal was able to create such a variety of meals when he had only pig meat at his disposal. Hannibal had admitted, with a light laugh, that while he could not create nourishing food with magic, there was no such trouble in using it to alter the flavour of a dish. Hannibal could make pork taste like anything, even fish, and often asked Will to suggest some outlandish new recipe from his vast collection of recipe books. It became something of a game between them, Hannibal delighted every time Will came across something truly unusual, and Will always impressed by the witch’s ability to rise to the challenge.

As the weeks spent in Hannibal’s home turned to months, Will found himself growing more comfortable with the witch than he had thought it possible for him to be in another person’s company. Aside from the pleasure of talking to Hannibal without a constant stream of subconscious emotions and desires spilling across the space between them, the witch was a lively and engaging companion. He had vast reserves of knowledge, on topics as diverse as art, philosophy and nature, and well-formed opinions on all. He also listened with seemingly honest interest to Will’s views, chiming in only to supplement Will’s own knowledge, or to gently challenge anything he did not agree with.

Will felt stimulated by conversation for the first time in his life, and began to cherish the long hours spent in Hannibal’s study, discussing whatever happened to take their fancy that day. He especially enjoyed the nights spent together in front of the fire, their exchanges ebbing and flowing while Will tried not to gaze too fondly at the way the firelight caught the witch’s high cheekbones and the fine curve of his mouth. He began to think he might be content to remain here the rest of his life, so long as he had Hannibal to keep him company.

Read the rest on AO3.