You Are My Design

[youaremydesign]

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

It’s Abigail’s idea at first, though that doesn’t mean she’s entirely sold on it.

[youaremydesign]

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

Hannibal is going to elevate him. He will be the likes of martyrs and saints by the time Hannibal is done.

[youaremydesign]

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

God, Hannibal adores him when Will looks at him like that; like he'd do anything Hannibal wanted if it would make him smile.

[youaremydesign]

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

Male. Seeking Male. New Client. Wants something uncomplicated.

[youaremydesign]

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

"I mean to serve your master."

Randall's head tilts. "Serve him," he repeats. "In what way?"

"Any way he will allow," Hannibal says, openly.

[youaremydesign]

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

"I thought you loved me," Abigail says, when he meets her eyes. Does she see her father in them, he wonders. "That's not enough, Will. You either love me or you don't."

[youaremydesign]

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

"I've never taken a knot before, mama. I'm scared it'll hurt, and I didn't want to disappoint him."

Will smiles, and purrs soothingly to her. "If you think you're ready, we can start getting you used to it," he offers. Her eyes brighten with excitement, and she grins. "We can start you off small, like I did, and then when you feel confident enough you can try with him, or any other alpha you want."

[youaremydesign]

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

It's been a while since he was able to move within his house without listening to Abigail fussing, for any number of reasons. Desperation would make her hungry enough to take the occasional bottle, but he can't fight the feeling of supreme relief he feels, hearing a quiet house, knowing that his daughter will be well-fed and taken care of by such a sweet, young omega, with evident powerful maternal instincts.

[youaremydesign]

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

Hannibal has to survive. Will refuses to believe that he won't. But, oh God, what if he doesn't?

[youaremydesign]

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

Hannibal eyes him, and tilts his head. "You challenged Jack because you wanted to see what he would do," he says. Will winces, but can't deny it. "If you challenged me, what do you think I would do?"

[youaremydesign]

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

Will is cruel, when all is said and done. A public building requires no invitation, a house or other personal residence requires a one-time catch-all at the very least. But a body, that is sacred and hallow ground, and Hannibal cannot invade it without permission. Will is sure there's some sentimental gentleman upbringing in that, since Hannibal has no issue piercing his neck or anywhere else on his skin for the sake of his meal, but this, this carnal union Will so loves, requires consent. Repeated and enthusiastic consent.

[youaremydesign]

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

This is a rarity, in that Doctor Lecter has no sketches or photographs of the beast in the museum, or hanging on the walls in the typical banners. Normally there is some image of the thing, to let people know what they're in for, but there is nothing. The stage is notably barren, and dark.

Until the lights go up, and there is a collective drawn-in breath, held in anticipation.

(Written for JustFuckMeUp 2020.)

[youaremydesign]

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

Hannibal smiles, purring softly, and leans down to nuzzle Will's forehead. "You needn't be so distressed, darling," he murmurs. There is blood on Will's neck, and his cut palm smears more fresh up his mate's bare forearm. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, so he can give Will all of his scent. Hannibal licks the smear of his own slick on Will's cheek, his purr for a moment growing louder. "When have I ever denied you?"

[youaremydesign]

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

The back seam has been opened. Hannibal stuffs the lock of hair inside and sews it back up, knotting the thread and snipping it with the same scissors.

He sets the doll down, upright, staring blankly at them with flat black eyes, made of plastic beads. It has no other features, no mouth or nose, no fingers; simplistic in design, lacking flare. The only other detail is the thatch of yarn creating a tangle of hair on top of its head.

[youaremydesign]

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

He does not know what the king's spellcasters did to him, only knows that, for a while, there was only the endless pain of his shifting body, growing new bones and snapping joints apart, stretching his skin so taut it would tear around compound fractures and his blood stained the ground as heavy as rain.

[youaremydesign]

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

“I’m very strict with my interns,” the doctor says slowly, his eyes on Will’s, never drifting. “In fact, I had asked them not to assign me any more. Unfortunately, I was the only surgeon available to take on extra duties. My expectations for you and your behavior will be high. I have fired interns before, and while I didn’t relish the experience, I won’t hesitate to do so again.”

[youaremydesign]

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

Hannibal has often found it strange, how dissimilar they all look, given that they share the same two parents.