An up and coming composer and high society writer feel sparks fly and permit themselves a single passionate night together. The result is an unprecedented outpouring of creativity for them both.
Happy @hannibalholiday to @electrarhodes! You inspired me to try an AU in gif form.
a @hannibalcreative #ForBothOfUs collab with @electrarhodes
Read on AO3
The first time Hannibal notices something amiss it's all to do with his favourite baby-blue and passion-flower striped shirt. When he wears it Will always looks at him as though he might be god. And then usually proceeds to follow the look up with some quite decent worship.
“Will? Have you seen the belle-blue pinstripe?”
“Laundry”
“I've looked there. There's no sign”
Hannibal comes into the kitchen and looks over to where Will is sitting grumbling over the most recent speculation from TattleCrime.
“Will? The belle-blue?”
Will looks up at him,
“Did you send another recipe to Freddie, Hannibal? We talked about this. I thought we'd agreed?”
“Will? The shirt?”
Will pays slightly better attention, Hannibal standing in the kitchen dressed except for his shirt. It's an appealing sight.
“I still don't know. Sorry. Want me to help you find another? You know? In the bedroom?”
He grins and at first Hannibal is still too distracted to really register the dropped timbre of Will’s voice and careful survey.
“I'm supposed to be in the City in forty minutes. I can find a shirt. I just wondered… oh. In the bedroom? That's… thank you Will. Your assistance would be much appreciated”
Will slides off the kitchen bar stool.
“That's the fourth thing this month you’ve mislaid”
Hannibal frowns. It's true. He pauses just for a moment, what was that? Was that? Laughter?
“It's good Hannibal. Really. It's. Good”
“But not excellent?”
Will sighs. Of all the things he might have guessed of course it's his cooking that Hannibal gets just the tiniest bit insecure about.
That cute little tum? Not a blip. The silver glints in his hair? Nuh uh. The murder and mayhem across three continents and the rabid chase after them? Nada. Even the fact that Will sort of, ok, did actually, chuck them off a cliff? Once past the recuperation, and the deep and meaningful conversations, and the resumption of certain, ahem, intimacies, not a people sausage! But even the teeniest hint of anything other than total praise and adulation about breakfast, lunch and supper and everything in between? Well for goodness sake you'd think the world had ended.
Hannibal watches Will’s face as he takes another mouthful.
“It's just a little, I'm not sure, salty maybe?”
“Salty?”
“Yeah. Briney. Not just because it’s sea food. Sorry. It's very good though. Really. And the vegetables are perfect”
He wishes he hadn't said a word as soon as he's opened his mouth as the plate is whisked away from him, mournfully he manages,
“I was enjoying that”
Hannibal takes a mouthful from Will’s plate and promptly rushes to the sink and spits it out.
“That's appalling. You can't eat that! I'll make something else. I don't think even the vegetables can be saved”
Will watches rather wistfully as Hannibal scrapes his lunch into the compost caddy. Sighs. Resigns himself to a wait, although if it's an omelette that's ok. Hannibal makes great omelettes on the fly and if he's pissed he whisks extra hard and they're all frothy and light. And usually this translates into other frothy and light things later on!
Hannibal though considers, what on earth is going on? He didn't oversalt it. He's still pathologically careful about what he puts in his body. He hears, yes, for sure this time. A little laugh. Tinkly. And then another giggle, slightly deeper.
In the garden Will stretches out on a blanket on the lawn and enjoys the sun’s warmth across his chest and arms. Perfect. Glass of lemonade. Cloudless blue sky. Small plate of nibbles. The sound of Hannibal humming to himself as he tends to some bit of the garden.
He notes a slight change in the tempo and mood of whatever it is that Hannibal is humming. Not so much cheerful G major and more miserable as sin B minor.
“Hannibal?”
Hannibal doesn't answer at first, so Will, a little reluctantly, drags himself up. And follows the sound of the now definitely mournful dirge.
“Hannibal? What is it? Did the deer get in the root vegetables again? Or is it the rabbits? I could trap a few if you like? They won't hop fast.. oh, what's that?”
“I think someone has been in the garden”
“Yeah. I think you're right? What is that?”
“It's some sort of vegetable. Well. Installation? Maybe?”
The two men regard the display. A human figure set before them on one of the garden benches like one of Hannibal's elaborate murder tableau, but this one made entirely from fresh vegetables.
“What's that eggplant doing? Is that meant to be?”
“I think it is. Will. I hate to ask. This isn't an elaborate, and may I say very pretty, piece of your work is it?”
Will puts his head to one side,
“Well, so you think that maybe I got up in the night came out here and picked veg for an hour or two and made them into a murder veggie bestie in the garden for you to find? Sorry Hannibal. Not my design”
“Someone's though?”
They look at each other then. Definite laughter.
“Did you hear that? Or am I hallucinating this time around?”
“Unless it's the whole folie a deux thing? I heard it too”
Hannibal looks around and ventures,
“Hello? Are you listening?…”
On the wind there's just the faintest whisper,
“Oooh. It's the man on the phone…”
And then an answering laugh.
Back indoors in the kitchen Will and Hannibal look at each other.
“I think I was in the sun too long.”
“I think it was something we ate last night”
“I really don't think..”
“Nor do I. It can't be”
“She did come with me to Sicily”
“You didn't say so before!”
“I thought I was hallucinating her. You know. After..”
Hannibal nods. Whilst there might be a certain amount of scar aftercare and nuzzling and other related activity, they don't usually directly discuss the events of the evening it occurred. Painful for both of them. Albeit in different ways.
“Why now though?”
“Maybe? Maybe she just misses us? I mean. It's been a while. Perhaps she got lonely? Wanted people to talk to? Hang out with?”
“She's not alone though?”
“The other laugh?
“Indeed.”
“I've got an idea about that.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Oh.” He sighs, yeah, he has an idea. “I'll see if I can talk to them later”
“Really? You rather than me? Do you think it's possibly someone I know?”
“I think so. I think they're messing with you more than me. So. Maybe. Well. I'll ask. I've a good idea”
Later, the same evening, Will sits out in the garden on the bench where the murder veggie bestie had been displayed. He takes a slow drink of his glass of wine. He'd never really been a fan but slowly, slowly, Hannibal is converting him. He smiles down into the golden green depths. A cool green drink for the end of a cool green day. Thinks of all the things that Hannibal is converting him to, over time.
“Hello ladies”
“Hello Will”
It's still a whisper. But it's there. And it's real.
“How you doing then?”
“Alright thanks”
“The shirt was a nice touch. You know it's his favourite”
There's a small snicker,
“He thinks it's his ‘pulling shirt’”
“I'm sure he does”
“He doesn't really need it does he?”
Will sighs, oh these two, they know him so well. Even after all this time. Especially after all this time. After all, he always could ‘see’, even if he has to have seen them alive before he can ever see them dead.
“Maybe lay off the grub though? That would have been a really nice meal”
Abigail giggles,
“But the food is the most fun to mess with!”
“I understand”
He pauses,
“I liked the murder vegetable man. I thought he'd get it straight away. What with the slicing and all. Actually that eggplant was good in parmigiana, so, thanks for that. And by the way I can hear you pouting”
Bev sighs,
“Damn. You ate his eggplant. Will that is some fucked us metaphor right there!”
“I know. It's true. But you know how it is, right?”
Both the women smile and nod, if he doesn't look directly at them he can just make out their ghostly shapes shimmering in the late evening daylight. What's left of it, and left of them.
“Still keeping out of the bedroom?”
“We did agree. Though the wardrobe is still fair game? Is that ok?”
Will smiles, they've got good ground rules. And really, these two keep all the others away. A sassy comment from Bev, a baleful look from Abigail? No one wants to risk it. Only Franklyn had tried. Grabby even in death. Fair enough. Probably. Will has a little shudder. Cheese folk indeed. For once he'd actually sympathised with Hannibal. Yeah. That's should have told him something right off.
“The wardrobe is all fair game. Hey. Did I mention it? There's an especially hairy green tie which Hannibal loves. Any chance of a little accident?”
“The one with the egg yolk weave? Because even I wouldn't be seen in it, and I'm dead already!”
“That's it. So. Maybe?”
“Sure Will. We're still here for you”
“Not everything on his terms then?”
“Dead right”
THERE WE ARE! @electrarhodes was a champ and delivered this gorgeous little fic to me extremely quickly, it just took me a while until I had the time to sit down and work on my part because I decided to do three collabs almost two days into a three day event oops. This was extremely fun though, I hope we get a longer collab event next time around!
This is a Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive Collab with @electrarhodes (same name on a03) @thewaterisblood aka @hannigram-hell and me @serenitynerd with the theme of lavender and honey. And yes our #ForBothOfUs is a threesome! What? We’re fannibals, we draw outside the lines! xD
We were going to do roses but then I saw this patch of bee filled lavender (first five pics are mine) and we all got so excited, it just seemed right. I wish I could somehow convey the luscious smell of lavender, hum of the bees, and the warmth of the sun on my skin as the breeze tousled my hair when it swayed this purple headed sea as I plopped myself down in the garden to take pics. The bees completely ignored me. Apparently I’m not sweet enough for them.
The bees are from hives we have in our courtyards. A few different varieties, mason and honey, plus I did see some bumbles. They are a rare sight nowadays. I couldn’t get great pics of them. They are so fast. The triangle is a home made mason bee home and you can just see the babies in the paper tubes.
The next five pics are from @electrahodes who somehow accomplished the herculean task of turning the pics into knitting. She chose honey lavender, a french variety cause “english lavender is a bitch”. I love electra!! I have no clue how she managed this but is so cool. BUT I think the likelihood we’ll get her to do it again in zero. Lol.
She said her muse whispered to include the moth and roses so I said, yes please! Then @thewaterisblood wanted to do a rewrite and add a moth! I do have a moth in the greenhouse but no way my low end camera would get a good pic, however I still consider it a sign. So our theme became a threesome as well!
At the very bottom you’ll find the @thewaterisblood ficlet. She was such fun to collab with and somehow managed it in spite of a crazy busy weekend. Another creative wizard! Her excitement was infectious. I am very lucky these amazing fannibals wanted to collab with me. What fun.
We are all over at the fledgling @fannibalgrowingcircle where we enthusiastically encourage cross pollination. I do have to admit I rather hoped we would find a hannicook that might want to whip up some kind of lavender honey dish… hint hint… if anyone does do it @ us or reblog it on this post! (or both)
and here is the ficlet by @thewaterisblood (i actually squeed when i read it!
Defend Unto Death
The woods shone from the few rays of noonday sun that managed to pierce the thick trees swaying over Will’s head as he made his way to the log cabin in the clearing ahead. The breeze lifted his curls, grown long over the months in hiding. Four fish were strung up, and slung haphazardly over his shoulder; fishing in the large stream had been successful today.
Brutal light assaulted Will’s eyes as he neared the immense garden at the foot of the cabin, and he put a hand up to shade his eyes. Hannibal, kneeling on a gardener’s mat, was deftly pruning bee balm with small shears. He rocked back on his heels as Will approached, a small smile crossing Hannibal’s face as Will hoisted up the day’s catch.
“I will need you to pick the herbs,” Will said as he squinted at the fish. “And I’ll clean and gut these. We’ll cook them together.”
Hannibal nodded. “Give me a moment. I’m choosing a few scents for the rooms.” A small group of bees began to circle around the balm, and Hannibal murmured to them in a peaceful, low tone. Whereas most would swat at the insects or run away for fear of being stung, Hannibal seemed in his element, and the bees went about their business in undisturbed comfort.
The Appalachian sun above was no match for the warmth this image brought to Will.
After a few watchful moments, he trekked inside to the kitchen, and laid the bundle on the butcher block. The moment his knife cut into the first fish, Hannibal was in the doorway, a basket laden with fresh herbs hanging from his arm. His eyes moved from the knife in Will’s hand to his face, a reflective glint of the forged steel blade passing over Will’s lips.
“A lavender marinade, with marjoram and thyme,” Hannibal said softly as he laid the bundles of herbs next to the fish. “We will need olive oil and honey as well.”
“All herbs that attract bees to a garden,” Will said with a smile. “Is this dinner a tribute?”
****
The aromatic smell of dinner filled the house, seeping its way into the craquelure of the wooden walls. Hannibal poured two glasses of dry Riesling, setting each at their respective place settings. Dinner made its way out not long after, the fish wholly intact and artfully displayed on handcarved pine bowls that had been stained a bright cherry. Will had crafted these when they’d first arrived in order to keep his mind occupied, and Hannibal had insisted on using or displaying all of Will’s carpentry projects.
“Everything we are is a tribute to bees,” Hannibal said, placing Will’s plate before him. “Without them, we wouldn’t exist.”
“But beware their sting,” Will sighed, placing the cloth napkin on his lap. “Well, the females anyway.”
Hannibal placed his dish, and joined Will at the table, his graceful fingers wrapping around the stem of the wine glass.
“If you’re stung, it’s because you’re too close to the hive, or you’ve been rude to them in some way,” Hannibal mused. “They have every right to defend themselves and their home.”
Will chewed thoughtfully, his eyes closing the moment the first bite struck his palate.
“So do we.” Will glanced at Hannibal over the top of his wine glass, meeting his eyes momentarily before taking a sip.
A spark in Hannibal’s eyes was there and gone. “Yes.”
Will laughed suddenly. “Is that why you refer to Jack as the ‘Death’s Head Moth?’ “
Hannibal laughed as well, pausing to rearrange the lemon and bee balm centerpiece in the middle of the table. Will breathed in the wondrous scent caused by the motion.
“The Death’s Head Moth is the enemy of the bee. They mimic their scent in order to raid the hive for honey.” Hannibal dabbed his lips with a napkin. “Jack and the FBI will no doubt try something similar with you and I.”
“Lucky for us that we have more in our arsenal than just a stinger.”
Dinner continued in silence, with the two frequently exchanging knowing looks and secret smiles.
****
Early that next morning, the light that fell across Will’s face woke him from restful sleep. He reached for Hannibal’s side of the bed, his hand coming to rest on the sheets. Will rose slowly, and went looking for Hannibal, finding him outside in the garden. He was encircled by bees, talking softly to them, his maroon eyes following their movements. Will stood in the doorway, his eyes locked on the magic that was the man he loved, and would defend unto death.
@hannibalcreative @winnowing-wind (cause i l know you like collabs)
[everthing in the post is original creative content, please reblog only. thanks <3]
electrarhodes replied to your link “Reckoning - Pragnificent - Hannibal (TV)”
It's to encourage people to click. Pictures mean more click... and pictures attract more post readers. Only about 1%-3% more click but click all the same. And slightly worrying Hannibal always makes click ��
Ah, okay. No worries, I understand now.
I thought it might be a reaction gif and I was a little worried that you were mad at me XDDDD
