@hanni-bunny-lecter I’ve never written about werewolves, but I hope this helps lift your spirits a little! ❤
“How long have you had this condition?”
Will held the tattered ruins of his clothes, and sighed. “Since I was a kid.”
“I see.” Hannibal used a handkerchief to wipe at some gore on Will’s face, to little effect. “And this is the first time you’ve lost control?”
“N-no I.” A frown. “But I learned. I haven’t lost control in a long time.”
“Something has set you off.” An obvious statement, but there was a question in it.
“I… was hungry.” It was the only explanation Will could come up with.
“Ravenous hunger is a common theme in tales of werewolves. An insatiable need to hunt. Have you been neglecting your appetite, Will?”
“I don’t have that kind of appetite.”
Hannibal’s eyes glinted in the moonlight. He smiled. “Your instincts seem to say otherwise.”
“My instincts are not mine, they’re… something else.”
“But they are yours, Will. Your lycanthropy is a part of you, and you will never fully be in control as long as you deny that part of yourself.”
Will scoffed. “What would you know about it?”
“I have something of a monster inside me as well. I have accepted mine. Can you accept yours?” Clouds covered the moon, darkening the night sky. It made Hannibal’s expression almost threatening.
“I don’t know.”
“I can help you, if you ask me to.”
It was a tempting offer. “I’ll… think about it.”
It had been some months since Hannibal had offered his help. At times, Will wasn’t certain it was the best choice to accept.
But now, sitting on the roof of his home in Wolf Trap, it was difficult to argue against the results. A full belly, and in complete control of his transformations. He’d never felt better in his life.
He stretched out his clawed fingers and toes, and yawned.
“Tired?” Beside him, Hannibal was knitting. He’d taken it up recently, reasoning Will would need a warm sweater that fit him for the coming winter. Apparently, Will’s thick fur wasn’t enough.
Will huffed, then nosed at Hannibal’s cheek. He wasn’t tired, but restless.
“So soon? Insatiable boy.” Setting the knitting aside, Hannibal scritched behind Will’s ears and nuzzled into his fur. “Oh, I’m afraid you’re in dire need of a bath.”
If Will was able to roll his eyes, he would have. Instead, he growled softly. He wasn’t a dog, dammit. Although, he had been spending a lot of nights in his wolf form, lately. With Hannibal’s guidance, it had become more… comfortable.
“Come now, dear Will. I promise to brush you out and rub your belly.”
The price he paid for Hannibal’s help was Hannibal’s condescension. He growled louder and bared his teeth.
Hannibal laughed. “All right. Shall we go hunting, then?”
Will grinned. Well. Sort of. Hannibal understood, at any rate.
“Excellent. I’ve heard whispers of a group of young men who have taken to dog fighting.”
Will let out a pleased rumble. Things really were better now, with Hannibal.
Lol, of course Will wants to avenge hurt doggies, of course XD
This time, Will is afraid Hannibal will bite him. Enjoy!
–
The heat in their kiss was maddening, and Hannibal cradled the nape of Will’s neck, fingertips half buried in his hair, thumb stroking the line of his jaw. He tipped his head, eager to taste Will’s pulse—
“Don’t,” Will said, quiet and breathless, taking Hannibal’s mouth again to distract him from his purpose.
Hannibal pulled back. In Will’s eyes he found an ounce of fear. He nuzzled against Will’s cheek, hand carding through his neat curls. “Guarding your throat, are we?”
Will nestled closer into Hannibal’s chest, despite his better judgement. He kissed at Hannibal’s temple. “Word is, meat’s still on the menu. Can’t be too careful.”
Gently, Hannibal kissed him; this insolent, improbable man. He thumbed Will’s Adam’s apple, longing for that warm tremble on his tongue. “I prefer my meat carefully prepared,” he whispered, hoping that Will would smile. Instead, he felt a tight grip on his wrist.
“And your dragons raw.” Will nipped at Hannibal’s mouth. The finger playing at his throat burned through him, teasing, possessive.
“I assure you,” Hannibal said, slow and sincere, “My kiss would be reverent.” His knuckles stroked the side of Will’s neck.
Despite the desire in his skin, Will still hesitated. “And your teeth?”
Hannibal bent to breathe in Will’s ear, “Only if you beg, my love.”
Will allowed himself to be drawn in to Hannibal’s body, to his whim. “I may regret this,” he whispered, noncommittal. He felt Hannibal’s patient thumb under his jaw, raising his chin.
“Have faith,” Hannibal said, soft and almost pleading. He tipped his head until the warmth of Will’s neck met his nose. “May I?”
Will swallowed. He couldn’t imagine denying the kiss that awaited him, and the vulnerability of it all…
“Yes.”
Will’s breath hitched when Hannibal’s lips met his neck. An ache rose in his skin, quelled and spurred again by Hannibal’s suckling, his gentle bruising. His head fell back, and his tender throat, bare under a cannibal’s tongue, blushed handsomely.
Hannibal held the back of Will’s neck and worshipped his Adam’s apple and hollow with lewd kisses. Light bruises bloomed—his design—and he moaned against Will’s throat.
The razor stopped cleaving his flesh. He stood silent, so silent, he could hear the drops of blood hitting the edge of the sink, sliding down the underside and pooling next to his toes. Petrified in the jet black darkness he waited, staring blankly in the direction of his razor. What was that? One of Death’s little tricks, a sign it was gloating at another poor bastard making its job easier?
Will was somewhat surprised when, on the night of a full moon, his dog Winston turned into a human being. He might have been more surprised if he weren’t already used to the strange imaginings of his own mind, but this seemed pretty par for the course..
The human Winston was a young man, perhaps 25, with a riot of wavy auburn hair and a smattering of freckles across his shoulders and the bridge of his nose.
“D-do you do this often?” Will asked.
“Once a month,” Winston said. “You were out of town the last time it happened.”
Will glanced down at the other dogs, who didn’t seem especially disturbed by this turn of events.
Will poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. “So, are you magical or something?”
Explicit // M/M // Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter // Tagged: Yuri!!! On Ice AU, ice skating AU, social anxiety, lots of fluff, genderfluid Will, sick dog (he gets better), light angst, references to past homophobia and shitty family, happy ending.
After coming last in the Finals, 23 year old Will Graham is on the verge of retiring from Figure Skating altogether. Everything changes when his idol, Hannibal Lecter, decides to become his coach.
He never fails to surprise me. Ever since the first time I saw him skating, it’s been an unending chain of surprises.
The image of Hannibal Lecter, the first time he had seen the World Champion skate, clouded his mind. The visual interlaid with year upon year of incredible skill and performance. He had idolised the man so long, aspired to be him, someday surpass him – that skating on the same ice was almost overwhelming.
At 23 years old, Will was doing ok, he’d got to his first Grand Prix Final. He tried not to let doubts creep in, but they did anyway. He was already getting too old, and this was his first chance – so it might as well be his last as well.
He needed to focus, think about Lecter, think about what he would do. How he would skate.
Will took a breath and held it as he pushed off from the side and glided to his start position on the ice. The same ice Lecter had skated upon. His mind flashed to an image of his childhood room back at his parent’s house, plastered with posters of Hannibal from throughout his career. Each magnificent. Each beautiful.
The music started.
*
The fall had not hurt has much as the blow to his pride. How had he been so delusional to think he could ever hope to be as great as Lecter.
“Don’t read them!” His coach stood over him as he scrolled through the sports updates.
-Will Graham fell to last place, is this season his last?
Will clenched his jaw. He had tried. He had moved to the training facility in Baltimore to prepare for this season. He had pushed himself the hardest he ever had… right up until just before the Finals. The dog he’d had from a puppy died. On top of that the pressure of the competition had him binge eating creole comfort food. He was in the worst physical and mental shape of his life when the Finals arrived. He hated himself for the chance he had blown. He didn’t even deserve to be in the same city as someone like Hannibal Lecter, let alone in the same competition.
Will thought that the worst was behind him. Nothing could be more humiliating than the tumble he had taken, putting him in last place. But that was before he went to the bathroom to take a moment, to gather himself back together before facing the crowds on the way out. It was before the other Will cornered him in the bathroom.
Will Francis Dolarhyde, usually went just by Frank – though he was known in the press as the Great Red Dragon. For some reason the fact that there was another Will, a lesser Will as he considered it, in the competition irked the teen. Having just won the junior circuit the boy was self confident and brash, everything Will wasn’t but probably should be to survive competition.
“I’m going to be competing in the senior division next year.” Dolarhyde was very slightly shorter than him, but intimidating all the same as he stood toe to toe – angry expression and finger in Will’s face. “We don’t need two Will’s in the same bracket. Incompetents like you should just retire already.” He was practically screaming in Will’s face.
When Frank turned and walked out Will took a stuttering breath. He was trembling. He hadn’t been scared, but overwhelmed, unprepared. Little things in life were often just as overwhelming, but this had shaken him to his core. He had gone to the bathroom for quiet space, to take himself out of the noise and activity that had him on edge. The bustle that balanced out the peace he found in the silence of the ice.
Will adjusted his glasses, pushing them up his nose. He only really needed them for reading, but wore them almost permanently when he wasn’t skating – a defense. A shield to hide behind. He took several more minutes to even be near ready to face the crowds, but forced himself back out so he could just get out of the place. Go back to Baltimore and finish college, then maybe go home – Hasetsu, Louisiana. He hadn’t been back in five years… He pushed the thought down. Tried to ignore the swell of guilt at how his dad had struggled with the hotel and bar he was supposed to help run.
He walked back out and grabbed his bag. They were almost at the exit when Will heard his name and turned.
“Will, listen to me. About the free routine, your step sequence could use some-”
Hannibal Lecter’s voice. But it wasn’t aimed at him. He was talking to the other Will – Frank – they skated for the same team. He sighed and felt a heavy weight in his chest. Hannibal probably didn’t even know who he was. Which was probably better. He’d rather not be known – not be remembered for his complete ineptitude. Frank was right, he should just retire. There was no point in trying again next season, more young and talented competition coming up while he was slipping further down. But the thought of not skating cut a pain through his chest. He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to put the future off forever.
He watched as Hannibal continued trying to advise Frank as they walked. Frank looked pretty unhappy about it, the attitude all self confident and successful fifteen year olds had. Will felt the heavy weight tighten into a ball that he thought might collapse within him and leave him empty.
Will let out a sigh and shouldered his bag. The action must have caught Hannibal’s eye as the young man turned and beamed Will a smile from across the room. There was a moment of silence between them where Will was unable to say anything, to even think anything, and Hannibal seemed confused for a moment. But then realisation crossed his face and his smile grew wider and warmer as he said –
“A commemorative photo? Sure!”
Will felt heat rise in his face, tears prick in his eyes. This wasn’t what he had wanted. What he had hoped for. He looked at the floor as he turned and left.
I was an idiot to think I could finally meet my idol on the same playing field.
Ship: Adam Raki/Kaecilius Plot: Adam has difficulty bonding with human beings but he bonds with the sentient black hole he discovers while working at the observatory effortlessly.
A/N: My second fic for @hannibalcreative‘s Eat The Rare 2.0. I asked if people would
prefer a Madancy AU or another Hannibal ship (my first fic was Marlana.) Only @slashyrogue replied, choosing a Madancy AU. So, I decided to try my hand at
Adam Raki/Kaecilius. Despite the fact that I have Aspergers myself, I’ve never
actually written for Adam Raki, so this should be interesting. Fic under the cut.
Mostly reblogs and random words 