#hannibalhallow

[liebesbeweise]

Hannibalhallow Day 14 - Masquerade

I love Venetian Masks! And of course I love Hannibal ^.^

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Designated Sitter 

Explicit // M/M // Aiden (Blood & Chocolate)/Nigel (Charlie Countryman) // Tagged: Werewolf AU (non A/B/O), pack dynamics, lone wolves, kid fic, single dad Nigel, mutual attraction, these boys are idiots (of course), they are also completely delusional if they think they can just be friends! Will is a good dad, Texting, Sexting, Dick Pics, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, babysitter with benefits, Getting to Know Each Other, Angst, Falling out (because these boys are dumb), discussions about rough childhood, Reunions, Full Shift Werewolves, werewolf sex (non-explicit), so... a little more angst, Upset Child, panicked parent, Revelations, Running Away, indignant child, Mating, Breakfast, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, happy ending Words: 29,184 Chapters: 7/7 - Complete

Nigel would have stayed a lone wolf if his ex hadn’t insisted they join a pack before their daughter was born. Now Gabi has left and he’s raising Brie alone whilst trying to keep in good with Lecter - the pack alpha. So when Lecter needs him for a job and sends over a babysitter, Nigel can’t really refuse. Though don’t think he hasn’t considered it when the sitter turns out to be some kid called Aiden who has exactly zero childcare experience!

This is a Patreon Prompt Fill - also for #HannibalHallow : Werewolves

[Patreon] [Ko-fi] [Commissions] [My Fics on Tumblr] [TigerPrawn on AO3]

*

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Final Chapter]

If Nigel had had any choice, he likely would have looked for a sitter from beyond the pack. He wanted his daughter to have more than just that group and their influence. But given that Brie, at five years old, had already gone through her first transformation and the full moon was fast approaching, he had to make do with whoever the pack leader was sending over. It was an early age to start shifting, and he hated that it was likely brought on by their family circumstances. Most kids didn’t start to shift until they were eight or ten if before puberty at all, and Brie was dealing like a champ, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it.

Alpha Lecter was fair, but he was firm and when he said he needed Nigel for a job and would provide the sitter, well - it wasn’t like Nigel had much of a fucking choice.

He had grown up a lone wolf, but Gabi had convinced him to join the pack when she got pregnant… Before she up and left him for some asshole American. And then he remained in the pack in the alpha’s good graces - Brie was one of them so he couldn’t go anywhere without giving her up to them. And that was never going to fucking happen. Especially now she was shifting, her wolf emerging at such an early age to protect her from all the upheaval, or so it felt.

He did jobs for Lecter here and there to keep good with the pack - when he needed the right kind of muscle that Nigel could provide. And this was one of those occasions. When he’d explained Brie had already had her first shift, Lecter had understood completely and an appropriate sitter was on the way.

Brie was settled watching cartoons when the doorbell rang. Nigel had already explained that he had to go do some work and a nice lady wolf would come look after her. She had actually been excited - apparently Nigel could never braid her hair the way she wanted - so this would be her chance. Nigel had huffed, but she was right of course, his hands were too damaged from past violence, she needed someone with nimble fingers.

Nigel pulled open the door, expecting some girly teenager or better yet, a wizened but experienced grandmother. Not-

“Mr Ibanescu? Hi, I’m Aiden. Alpha Lecter sent me.”

[CONTINUE READING ON AO3]

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[idontfindyouthatinteresting]

Happy Halloween Dear Fannibals!

It’s the most wonderful time of the year, eat up.

[shiphitsthefan]

Ash & Antlers, part VI: Undone [asexual omega Will/asexual alpha Hannibal; wendigo AU; explicit]

for  #HannibalHallow, #Hannictober, #ThePumpkinIsPeople, and #SpookyABO

Even in theory, the cruel game Will had set for their bodies was impossible to win. Will knew there was little chance they would be capable of resisting each other for the entirety of his Heat; it seemed idiotic to even try, though Hannibal was kind enough not to say as much.

Will focuses on that as a new wave of convulsions rock his body, that he can use Hannibal's name and the word “kind” in the same sentence. Even after all this time, a quiet piece of Will's heart remains terrified of what his mate is capable of, what he's done to Will before, what cruel desires still lurk in his brain. Their time here in the Flipside—“the Graywood” whispers another Will, the stranger setting up camp inside his skull—has been idyllic, their only quarrel distilled from the hormonal aftermath of their first time together.

It scares him, how much he desires a repeat performance, no matter the intense regret having sex will inevitably bring. There was such power in the way Hannibal fucked him, though, and in the way Will received him. Hannibal was wild and unrestrained, half man and half beast, or else half one monster and half another monster. But Will loves both the human and wendigo equally, and marvels that he was the one to cause the convergence of Hannibal's distinct selves, that Will made them meld and brought them to heel.

The Pythoness had called Will a Queen. Regal and exacting and dominant. Will snorts; wouldn't Jimmy be jealous?

“Care to share the joke?” Hannibal asks him. Will tries to ignore the strain in his voice.

[continue on ao3]   [start at the beginning]   [like my work?]

[cinnamaldeide]

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

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hannibal (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter Additional Tags: Post-Season/Series 03, Alternate Universe, Werewolves, Werewolf!Will, Werewolf!Hannibal, BloodAndBreath, Hannictober, HannibalHallow, thepumpkinispeople, Not Beta Read Summary:

Sinking his sharp canines in its smooth skin, Will savoured its sweet, ripe flesh, slowly crewing on its meaty consistence while Hannibal graciously entertained their blessedly educated, trusted local grocer with his curously accented Arabic. Written for @hannibalcreative’s #ThePumpkinIsPeople and just in time for @hannigramfanfic’s #BloodAndBreath; also too late for @the-winnowing-wind’s #Hannictober and too soon for @idontfindyouthatinteresting’s #HannibalHallow Werewolf Prompt, but I try all the same. Inspired by this photo. Happy Sp👀ky Halloween

[cult-magic]

Hanniween #3 - Enchanted Forest

Will is an exception to a bloody rule. Hannibal is bored.

As a rule, the enchanted forest was off limits. All who ventured in were lost in the ever-changing maze of gnarled, blackened trees. At night, if they listened close enough, the villagers could hear the cries of their damned brethren. The parents of young children said the forest was haunted. The elders knew better; the forest was Hell.

The one exception was Will Graham. He had lived in the enchanted forest for the entirety of his adult life without complication. He lived in a cabin off the beaten path, providing for himself and his seven dogs with small game animals and fish from the nearby river. He never ran across the demons the villages whispered about, nor did he glimpse the Devil leaping from tree to tree.

He did, however, see a strange visitor every night. It became a habit for Will to feed and walk his dogs one last time at night before setting off into the thick of the forest to find the stag, a regal creature with dark antlers reaching out to the midnight sky and raven’s feathers mixed into a coat of black fur. Its eyes shined like a placid lake at night, reflecting stars only for Will to seek.

He followed it, always, for hours on end. It never seemed to take him in any particular direction, wandering aimlessly through the trees and never halting. When the sun began to turn the night into a dim gray, Will would stop and turn back. This was the only time the stag would make a sound; it moaned despairingly until Will was back in his cabin, wails echoing through the forest for all the world to hear.

Tonight felt different. Will stood in front of his house, watching the stag’s breath mist and dissipate in even measures. Its stare was piercing. It called to him, pawed at the ground and huffed gently, but never made a sound. Will’s dogs sat patiently behind him, equally silent. Will rubbed Winston’s head and stepped off his porch. The stag began walking into the forest, never looking back to see if Will was following. It knew.

An abnormal quiet settled over them as they walked, Will only paces behind the stag. The chirp of cicadas was absent, the rustle of leaves was muted. Even the wind seemed to have fled. Will knew he should have been wary, but he dismissed the phenomena.

Hours passed before the stag disappeared behind a wall of trees into a clearing. Will hurried to follow, but when he pushed through the branches, the stag was gone. In its place was a man who was not quite a man. He was dressed nicely, patterned, colorful suit filled with broad shoulders and lean muscles. His hair was blonde and graying, his face angular and cold. His eyes glimmered red in the moonlight.

“Good evening Will,” said the man, his accent thick. He was smiling. “Thank you for joining me.”

“It seems I don’t have the pleasure of knowing your name, though you know mine,” replied Will.

“I am Hannibal,” said the man, “and I am the guardian of this forest.”

Will cocked his head. “The Devil, then.”

“To some,” smiled Hannibal. He shifted, beckoned Will closer. “Who do you think I am?”

Will was silent for several moments, staring at Hannibal with his brows furrowed. Finally, he spoke: “A bored child who finally has someone to play with.”

Hannibal grinned. His teeth were crooked and too sharp. “And play I shall.” He reeled Will closer and, under the light of the pale moon, whispered Will’s task between breathless kisses. … The next night, Will crouched in the darkness as a monster crashed through the forest. Randall Tier was young and slight and dressed in a suit of bone and horror, searching for blood and not knowing he would find it so close to home. He was foolish to come into the enchanted forest, foolish to think retribution would not come, foolish to think the guardian of the forest he had come to rape would not strike back.

Tier stopped his wild searching moments later and looked up sharply. Will could sense the stag several feet away, grazing lazily in the undergrowth. A thicket of trees crowded around behind it, craggy branches reaching towards it like desiccated hands.

A branch cracked under Tier’s feet as he moved forward and the stag’s head shot up, ears pricked and alert, then shot into the wall of trees. Tier dashed forward to follow but the stag was gone before he reached where it once stood. He growled in frustration when he found the trees too dense to penetrate.

Will took Tier’s distraction as his signal and leaped out of the shadows into Tier’s side. He felt the claws of Tier’s suit rip into the flesh over his ribs but did not relent. He ripped the mask off of Tier’s face, revealing the snarling boy. Will gripped his hair in one fist and yanked his head up, then down, finding some twisted delight in the thump of it smacking the forest floor. He brought the head up again, Tier’s face a little dazed, then down again, again, again, until the thump turned wet and blood covered his hands. He felt powerful like he had God on his side - and maybe he did.

Tier had long since stopped twitching when Will finally dropped his head, breathing heavily but mind clear and focused. He stood slowly, blood leaking sluggishly from the wounds on his torso, just looking down at the corpse he had made.

“Beautiful,” Hannibal murmured. Will turned to see him gazing back, red eyes full of mischief and affection. He held out a hand. “You did wonderfully, dear Will. Let me take care of you.”

Will stepped over the body absently and took Hannibal’s hand in his own, not noticing the smears of black blood he left on Hannibal’s skin, or how right they looked there. Hannibal’s other hand drifted up to touch Will’s face, running his fingers over his cheek with a tenderness Will did not understand.

The sun was just beginning to rise as Hannibal laid Will to rest in his bed, bandaged and surrounded by his pack. Winston held Hannibal’s hand between his teeth in a gentle threat and all Hannibal could do was smile at the little beast.

Hours later a villager screamed at the mangled but just recognizable body of Randall Tier staged with his own bear suit. Hannibal smiled when he heard the screams and thought of blood in the moonlight.

[liebesbeweise]

Hannibalhallow - Day 20 - Space

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So, I’m in love with Star Trek and Hannibal. 

[liebesbeweise]

Hannibalhallow - Day 31 - Werewolves 

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