#hannibal l.

[vitalphenomena]

@rejectory // hannibal said: "She's bleeding out."

IS THIS REAL?

Spirit has been dutifully, diligently taking the drugs Hannibal prescribed her for sixty days. The cocaine she had already prescribed herself keeps her awake until she crashes—always on her own, never again in Abigail's old room. But that isn't new.

Blood, too, isn't new. She remembers how Erik Eriksson's eyes gushed, how blood leaked almost greedily from the sockets. She remembers the piercing shriek in her head when he finally, finally died.

She doesn't hear that now. She falls to her knees on the cabin's hardwood floor and stupidly, futiley tries to scoop blood back into the woman's body via the gaping wound across her throat.

"You're a doctor. You're supposed to fix her. I must have—" She looks around like she's only now realizing where she is. "—he must have just left."

[slash-aaa]

he's aware she hadn't wanted to come here. one of the smallest cities in calirfornia, rivaling neither los angeles or san fransisco. everything hannibal has done, he has done for them, for her. perhaps she does not understand his reasonings, but after hundreds of years spent together, she had learned not to question him. though as time goes on, as the modern age seems to settle itself in clara's mind, she begins to push back against hannibal, more and more. small acts of disobedience - nothing the doctor can't handle, but he is not one to enjoy disrespect. still, he sits down across from the young woman, leaning back in his seat, though eyes remain heavy on her own. 'those young men you met on the pier - why haven't you invited them here for dinner, yet?' brows raises slightly, knowing gleam setting indelicately within his stare. 'i believe it is time for me to meet them,' @pierprincess.

[slash-aaa]

remorse did not touch hannibal's heart. not in the few days amelia had left. not in the following weeks when hannibal had comforted waylon, holding the other man while he cried. nor now, as he stepped from his bentley and made his way towards the double doors of the flower shop, knowing that he would see waylon's smiling face staring back at hannibal as he entered. he acted as if waylon's sadness had affected him ; it had been easy enough to make the other man believe it to be so. but hannibal could not say, in true faith, that he truly felt anything in the times when waylon found himself sorrowful at the thought of his late wife. now that they had been spending more time together, hannibal was hoping to shift waylon's mind more towards him. the doctor's intentions remained unclear, but as he entered the shop and gave waylon a grin - as if he's happy to see him - his true objective didn't matter. 'i'm surprised to still find you behind the counter, waylon. are you not off at six?' hannibal stands opposite waylon, giving him a knowing yet playful look. 'surly you did not forget i was to make you dinner, tonight,' @nuks.

[slash-aaa]

hannibal understands that will could have killed them, taking the two men over the side of that cliff. perhaps he even had the intention to. and perhaps it would have been the perfect ending to them, to what they are. it certainly would have been poetic. but fate had other plans for them, as did hannibal. their story would not end with them crashing into waves that cracked their bones, nor drowning within the chill of the ocean. hannibal, knowing that they had survived for a reason, had forgiven will even before they had washed up on shore. understanding why he had felt the need to drag the couple over the edge, unknowing of whether they would continue on as they are, or as something entirely new. having spent some time recovering, healing their broken bodies, hannibal had taken will somewhere they would not be found. they hid themselves away for several months, until they deemed it safe to show themselves, though still careful to separate themselves from the men they used to be. this life together was still fairly new, but hannibal, at least, was falling into it easily. everything with will was easy, now.

approaching the other man at their table, hannibal brushes a hand along will's shoulders, one along his back to the other, circling will until hannibal can see sharp features, illuminated in the sun which peeks through satin lined curtains. 'i thought we could go out, this afternoon. i fear we may be getting too comfortable inside of the house,' smirk is given, pointed canines poking at his bottom lip as he does so. 'as much as i may enjoy spending time with you here, venturing out would benefit the both of us,' @shilohgreen.

[slash-aaa]

perhaps every bird that's found themself in a cage will, at one point, try to escape ; to spread their wings beyond the confines of its newest safety. one may argue that the bird was put there, that it should be let out, but what of its injured wing? how will it learn to trust, to heal, if not in that cage? and would the creature begin to love such a place, if it stayed there long enough? hands move to drape a necklace of diamond around the bird's neck, hannibal delicately moving clarice's hair to one side as he clasped the newest piece of jewelry. fingers brush against her skin, so briefly that it could have been by mistake, though they both knew it was not. hair is placed back between her shoulders, hannibal grabbing clarice's arm and turning her gently toward him, so that he might see the necklace laying just above her collarbones. 'you are quiet tonight,' doctor lecter notices, running eyes along her features before he begins fixing his cufflinks. 'i've grown rather used to your unabating need to speak your mind - it would be a shame to be deprived of it now,' @roseguided.

[vitalphenomena]

@consumare

"I could show you around, at the very least," Kieran drawls. His hands are in his pockets, his shoulders slouched. He is impossibly relaxed.

Hannibal and Cain know each other professionally, which means Kieran at least knows of Hannibal tangentially. Cain respects Hannibal. This bothers, and disturbs, Kieran greatly.

"You might like to see where it is Cain spends so much of his time."

[slashaer-archive]

             ‘ apparently  you  lost  control  you  never  really  had  before, ’     @matutines  /  a kiss by the driver era.