feygan: (Default)

Title: Breakfasting In Stockholm
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Hannibal
Pairing: Hannigram
Characters: Will Graham, Bedelia Du Maurier
Summary: AU where surgeon Hannibal kidnapped Will as he was moving to New Orleans to join the police force. Will was rescued and Hannibal is in prison. (Really it's just Will in Bedelia's office justifying his love for Hannibal.)

"I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with him."

His face was beatific as he described the man that had so completely changed his life, his whole world.

Hannibal - the name itself had a weight behind it. And the man--the monster--loomed so large that Will disappeared. And he didn't mind it. He was glad to give himself up to Hannibal's greatness. To be subsumed by his love.

"Without him, I feel as though I'm ceasing to exist." He frowned, a furrow forming between his brows. "I need him."

"You don't need him, Will. You know that."

"That's easy for you to say, Dr. Du Maurier. You don't feel how I feel."


"No." He opened his eyes and looked directly at her, stared into her eyes for the first time ever. She looked startled. It could have been funny, if he wasn't so tired (so empty).

"I need him more than he needs me," he said. "I'm terrified that he's never going to come back. That he's done with me" (doesn't love me).

"Will. Listen to me: Hannibal kidnapped you. He assaulted you. He performed criminal unethical psychological experiments on you. It is only luck that you are still alive."

He snorted. "I notice you didn't say that I was whole."

"No, I didn't. But you are getting better, I promise you that. You don't need him."

"But what if I want him?"

"You can't have him, Will. He's a sadist and a narcissist, which are bad enough. But he's also a kidnapper."

"He kidnapped me. And I forgave him." Will fisted his hands to keep from biting his fingers. "I love him."

"And that's why you can't see him, Will. I cannot in good conscience sign off on you visiting him in prison."

"Please," he hated the desperate whine in his voice. He sounded like a wounded animal. "I need your signature. They won't let me see him without your signature."

"No, Will."

"I need him to keep loving me."

"Will - No."

He wanted to scream and yell--to destroy her office--but he didn't want to be committed again. He'd die in there.

"Our time is nearly over," she said. "I'm not going to authorize your visit to the prison. And I want you to think about why."

"I know why!" he shouted. "Because you think I went crazy when he... he did those things to me. But I didn't.

"He... he is transcendent. He is light and warmth, and when he filled me up, it overflowed. He made me beautiful.

"I've never felt beautiful before. He's the only one." His breath hitched in a sob. "I'll die without him."

She crossed her legs. "No you won't. You will learn to live and be happy again. It's the only way to survive."

"Don't I get a choice?" he asked plaintively.

"Not this time, Will. Go home. Pet your dogs. Take a walk..."

"And come back next week," he finished for her.

"Exactly," she said. "And Will..."


"Stop sending him letters."

"I..." He wanted to lie, to say that he hadn't been writing any letters. But the warden had probably contacted her.

"You may continue to write the letters for yourself, but you have to stop mailing them," Dr. Du Maurier said. "You need to stop trying to contact him, Will. For your own mental well-being."

"I'm fine."

"You said that you would die without him."

"Hyperbole. What else could it have been?"

"A clear sign that you are in no mental state to decide Hannibal Lecter's place in your life." She sighed through her nose, finely drawn nostrils flaring minutely. "You cannot see him, Will. Not now, and not for a long time."

"You mean, never. You don't ever want me to see him again."

"That is what I would recommend, yes. But we both know why I didn't phrase it that way."

"I wouldn't have taken it as a challenge," he grumbled, knowing it was a lie. When it came to Hannibal there was no room for logic in his head, just the all-encompassing whatever this was that was his love for Hannibal. And no matter how many people tried to tell him it wasn't real -- it was real to him. That was all that he knew.

Everything he felt for Hannibal was real because he was feeling it. Like static electricity but under his skin, it was the itching uncontrollable inevitability of obsession. Nobody could meet Hannibal and not get a bit of a taste for it (for Hannibal), but nobody else had ever spent so much time with him and lived. Nobody but Will.

"I miss him," he blurted out.

Dr. Du Maurier's gaze was a heavy thing upon him. "I know," she said. And both of them were reminded that she had known Hannibal Lecter once. It had been the reason Will chose her as his therapist: the idea that she would understand.

"Hannibal is a force of nature," he said. "There's no stopping the changes he makes."

"And do you feel changed by him?"

Will scoffed. "How could I not have been? I was so young and foolish. He climbed into my head and made himself a home there. And now I never want him to leave."

"But do you think he should -- leave your life, that is?" she pressed, gentle, ever-so-gentle, eyes sharp to the sudden shift that could sometimes go through his mood. He appreciated her care as much as he hated it.

"Hannibal is never going to leave me," he said. "He loves me."

"For all you know, he doesn't remember who you are. You can't know that he loves you."

"I know," Will said. A not-unpleasant warmth went through him at the thought of the secret he had kept so well. "He loves me and I love him, and if you would just let us write to each other, you would be able to see that our love is real."

"Be that as it may, I cannot in good conscience sign off on you exchanging letters with Hannibal Lecter. I'm sorry, Will. But the two of you will not be communicating."

Will wanted to argue, but it wouldn't help his cause. "Let's shelve the letter writing at this time," he offered. "I have other things happening in my life than letters to Hannibal. I... I, ah, I found a new dog. His name is Winston."

Her sigh at hearing about him adding another dog to his pack was a relief. She'd accepted the subject change, even if just for the moment. He could work with that.

feygan: (Vaako)
Title: The Sound of Bells
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Ella Enchanted/Hannibal
Characters: Prince Charmont, Hannibal Lecter
Notes: Char is 7 in this story, and Hannibal is 12

Summary: Char tumbles off the trail into the Old Woods, chasing the sound of bells. It leads him to a boy.


Char had been told to stay out of the Old Woods. It was said to be a passage between worlds and was filled with powerful magics.

He hadn't been able to stop himself.

There'd been the tinkling of distant bells and he was tumbling off the trail and through the trees. His imagination created images of Lady Pollyanna's delightful dancing dog. She'd brought it for a visit one day in spring as a belated treat for his seventh birthday.

He'd played with the dog for hours, burying his fingers into its fluffy white fur. He'd laughed delightedly when the dog -- Moja -- would rise up on her back legs and dance whenever Lady Pollyanna snapped her fingers.

The silver bells dangling from Moja's red silk tutu would jangle as her tail wagged back and forth. The bells on her red leather collar would play counterpoint as she spun and twirled and performed the occasional flip.

From the instant he'd met Moja, Char was in love with her. She was the dog he'd always wanted.

And maybe that was why Lady Pollyanna had never returned to Court. Because when Char wanted things, his parents tended to ensure he got them. Even when the original owner didn't want to give them up.

He loved Moja, but he would never want to take her away from Lady Pollyanna. So he didn't ask that she be brought to see him. He just quietly missed the clever dog.

Until he heard the sound of her bells in the distance and none of the warnings he'd been given about the Old Woods were important. Because if Moja was in the Old Woods, she had to be lost. She needed his help. He had to find her.

He chased through the woods after the sound of bells. Farther and farther away from the track he ran until it was a distant memory and he was desperately lost.

But always there was the sound of bells drawing him onward.

Until he burst out of the trees into a clearing. And there was the trickle of a creek and a bank of green grass and small flowers. And sitting in a circle of toadstools, a chain of silver bells sounding their chimes between his hands, there was a boy.

A boy with startling reddish-brown eyes and sharp teeth he showed in a snarl when he saw Char.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Char said. He didn't let his fear show on his face and kept out of lunging range.

The boy cocked his head, a furrow forming between his brows. He said something in a strange language. It sounded like a question.

"I don't understand you," Char said. "Are you a fairy? Have you come to steal babies and curdle the milk?"

The boy didn't answer, though he stood up. Char took stock and figured the boy was a few years older than him, maybe as old as Alfie, the 12-year-old kitchen boy Char wasn't allowed to play with anymore. ("He's a peasant, Char. It's inappropriate for you to call him your friend.")

"Who are you?" Char asked. He curiously took in the boy's odd clothes -- trousers like he'd never seen before and a drab gray sweater with worn spots at the collar and cuffs.

"I'm Char," he said. At the boy's questioning sound, he tapped his own chest. "Char. Char. My name is Char."

"Ah," the boy said. He pointed at his own chin. "Hannibal. I am Hannibal."

"Ha-Hannibal," Char said. And smiled.

* * *

Hannibal was confused about how he had come to this place, but not sad.

He'd fed himself on thoughts of revenge. Wrapped himself tight in blankets of rage and hate. Fantasized fiercely over all the horrible things he would do to those men once he found them.

Those thoughts were distant now. As though everything from Before was a dream -- nightmare -- someone else had lived. Even sweet Mischa felt faraway, a bittersweet melody overwhelmed by the joyful ringing of the bells he held.

He sat cross-legged in the spot he'd woken and shook the bells. He ran the thick silver chain they hung from between his fingers, silencing some bells and causing others to sound.

Over and over he jangled the bells. He was spellbound by the sounds they made. He couldn't stop shaking them, over and over, a song building between his hands.

There was the snap of a twig breaking and a gasp.

Hannibal ran the bells through his hands one more time, then looked up, his lips already pulling back in a snarl. (No one would take his bells from him. They'd been in his hand when he woke up. They were his.)

There was a boy of around seven staring at him. Tousled brown curls and wide grayish-blue eyes gave him a cherubic appearance but there was stubbornness in the line of his jaw and the way he held his lips.

Hannibal knew he'd never seen the boy before. Yet there was the feeling of such familiarity and overwhelming fondness that he didn't know what to do at first.

Luckily the boy -- Char, as he introduced himself -- was happy to take charge.

Which was how Hannibal found himself tromping through the woods toward Char's home. The younger boy cheerily taught him the language as they walked.

The bells hung from Hannibal's waist and chimed with every step. The sound made him feel brave and bold, as though promising that everything was going to be good again, like before Mama and Papa and Mischa and the orphanage and all the bad things Hannibal had been through.

It made him wonder if someone had been listening to his prayers. The ones that didn't involve blood and death and ripping those men into tiny pieces. The prayers that begged for someone to save him.

Hannibal followed Char and allowed himself to hope, the sound of bells drawing him onward.

See? This is all I ever wanted for you Will. For both of us.
feygan: (Vaako)

YAHF: Eat Your Friends and Family
Author: Feygan
Fandom: BtVS/Hannibal

Browsing the racks of Ethan's Costume Shop, he found his eyes drawn to the mask and straitjacket combination against the wall. When he looked closer, he saw that the costume included a pair of hospital-style pants and a white tee shirt bundled in a gallon-sized Ziploc bag.

"Hm. 'Hannibal the Cannibal,'" he read. "Interesting."

The price was $18.95, which was--barely--within his ridiculously low budget. It seemed like kismet that he would buy the outfit.

Pulling the crumpled $20 out of his pocket, he headed toward the cash register. He had a feeling that this Halloween was going to be unforgettable.

* * *

He'd been in his cell, and now he was standing in a cramped bathroom with the sounds of an obnoxiously loud party vibrating through the door. It left him a bit confused... and peckish.

He pulled the hated mask from his face and dropped it in the garbage. He sneered at the straitjacket loosely draped around his shoulders and sent it to join the mask. Then he washed his face, straightened his hair, and riffled through the cupboards and drawers until he found something that made him grin.

Hannibal Lecter left the bathroom with a box cutter loosely held in his fist.

He didn't know how he'd come to this place, but he knew that tonight would be memorable.

Rec'd fic

Mar. 6th, 2015 10:50 pm
feygan: (Default)
Here's some fic recs.

HANNIBAL - Read more... )

VORKOSIGAN SAGA - Read more... )

TEEN WOLF -Read more... )
feygan: (kiss lips man)
Suits/Orphan Black -- I would love a story where Mike is sent in undercover to that bar to do something, and while he's there he meets Helena and is fascinated. He starts digging around, and is drawn into the world of Clone Club and craziness. Decides that he wants to help them. Seriously, there's a lot of legal ramifications around clones, scientific ethics, corporations playing god, etc.

Suits/Hannibal -- I need a crossover where Bella is Jessica's sister. I don't want her to end up as a victim of Hannibal or anything; I just want to see the characters interacting. Maybe some backstory of their childhood together.

If someone writes one of these for me, I would be ever so grateful. I'd write something back if you wanted ♥♥♥♥
feygan: (Dark City)
This is why there's so many A/B/O mpreg Hannigram stories out there. Because their kid would be amazing.

This needs to happen. (Not like for real, but in fanfic form. Please. Please. I love you.)

Hannigram stories I'm currently obsessing over:
  • AO3: "Regret Me Not," by Durrant - The Ripper Copycat has abducted Will's son and, in desperation, he visits Hannibal to beg for his help.
  • AO3: The Aristocrats AU," by On WednesdaysWeStudyinPink - It's 2012 and the Democrats have secured the White House with the dynamic cousins Hannibal Lecter & Bedelia Du Maurier, a powerhouse team that have managed to turn the politics of Washington onto its head. Lecter’s adopted daughter Abigail is the darling of the media & the country is eager to see if the Lecter Administration will live up to the cousins’ Uncle Jack Kennedy’s Camelot. (Hannibal is the President!)
  • AO3: "Friendship is Not My Forte," by Azure_K_Mello - When Will becomes too ill to stand Hannibal takes him to another neurologist. Then the good doctor takes care of him and learns a little more about Will in the process.
  • AO3: "I could just eat you up (but not literally)," by mjnobody - Hannibal breeds Will. A love story in bodily fluids. (A/B/O.)
  • AO3: "To Court A Monster," by Rhiw - At thirty, Will Graham is finally evolving into his adult form, much to his consternation and his father's delight. But to Ezra Graham's absolute dismay, his emotional boy still refuses to hunt, feeling far too connected to the humans he grown up amongst. But at a hundred and sixty, the elder Graham know he's entering the last chapter of his life and won't be able to hunt for his fickle son for much longer. (Creature!fic. Will, Hannibal, and Tobias are Roux-Ga-Roux. This story is so good.)
Anyone know any other good stories?

May 2017

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