IM IN THE BUILDING AGAIN

The knife grasped in Hannibal's hands shows the reflection of Hannibal's charm.

"I wish it didn't have to come to this, Y/n"

There he stood. In front of y/n. Handsome. Seductive. Covered in crimson. A corrupt angel.

Y/n's love, a naive offering. Will warned him. Gods did he warn him. But he never listened. He was foolish. He is foolish.

"Hannibal..." Y/n's words die out in his throat. He feels weak. Foolish. His legs can barely hold him up. His hands shake and his eyes water. He doesn't want to believe this.

The syllables of the foolish man's name slipped from Hannibal's lips, a venomous whisper of false affection, tinged with a twisted mockery. "Y/n," he purred, his words a seductive caress, a mockery of the intimacy you had once believed to be true.

His eyes, once pools of deep, alluring brown, now gleamed with a malevolent glint, reflecting the true character beneath the veneer.

"You should not have gotten involved darling," he chided, his voice devoid of sentiment. "Your presence here was not part of my design."

Y/n's legs tremble. He wants to speak. But it's like he has forgotten how. His eyes water even more. Tears threatened to spill.

As y/n's eyes betrayed the emotions he fought to contain, Hannibal observed the silent struggle, his gaze sharpening with a perverse sense of amusement. He studied him, like a specimen beneath a microscope, observing every flicker of vulnerability, every crack in y/n's soul.

He feigned a look of sympathy, a calculated performance. "Tears don't suit you, darling," he purred, his words a mockery of comfort. "Save them for someone who cares."

Y/n's heart shatters. His world practically collapses around him. He opens his mouth. He wants to speak. But what does he want to say?

"I..." His words fall.

"Go on, darling. Don't be shy." Hannibal's voice is tinged with mockery.

"I was going to propose..." The words fell from y/n's lips, a revelation laden with a shattered dream. The proposal hung in the air, a bittersweet echo of an ill-fated future. Hannibal's laughter rang out, cold and hollow, a cruel mockery of the happiness y/n dreamed of.

"...you never cared..." Y/n's words are weak. His eyes fall to the floor and it doesn't take long before tears fall to the floor as well.

Hannibal's laughter died, replaced by a chilling smirk that graced his lips. Hannibal's eyes darkened as he approached y/n, a predator closing on his prey.

"Care for you? You?" He taunted, his tone laced with scorn. "Darling, I barely tolerate your existence. You were never more than a temporary distraction."

Y/n's body couldn't handle it. He collapsed onto his knees. As he crumpled beneath the weight of Hannibal's words, the reality of his naive affection down upon him, Hannibal's smirk widened. He relished in y/n's despair, finding sadistic pleasure in witnessing his collapse.

"Now look at you," he mused, his voice dripping with condescension. "On your knees, begging for the affections of a monster."

Y/n stared at the ground. His world is spinning. His life is falling apart. The man he loves most. The man that gives him meaning. Is mocking him. Y/n had nothing before this. Before Hannibal. His life had no meaning and now he feels like it has no meaning again. If this means that Hannibal will end his life. Or end their relationship. Then he'd rather end it.

Hannibal crouched down, his graceful movements calculated and precise, until he was at eye level with y/n. Hannibal's fingers traced y/n's cheek, a mockery of tenderness, a cruel mockery of the illusion he had spun.

"How pathetic," he mocked, his voice dripping with derision. "You believed in the lie, fooled yourself into loving a monster. Didn't i warn you, darling? Monsters have no hearts to offer. We only consume."

"why don't you just end me..." Y/n pleaded.

Hannibal paused, considering the pleading tone of y/n's request. The thought did not cause him to hesitate, no... It drew a perverse sense of cruelty from the depths of his being. He tilted his head. A predatory gleam in his eyes reflected in the knife he kept in his grasp.

"Oh darling," Hannibal's teasing gets cut off by y/n.

Y/n's eyes fall shut as he talks with a trebling voice. "I don't want to live if it means living without you... A life without you is not a life worth living..."

Hannibal's gaye flickered over y/n, calculating and cold, the true darkness lurking beneath his false facade finally revealed.

Y/n shedded only one tear "...My heart belongs to you... Even that i found out the truth... But you not loving me back... My heart is worth no more..."

Hannibal's gaze softened slightly, a moment of weakness seeping through the cracks in his icy veneer. He observed the single tear that escaped, an unusual glimpse of vulnerability from someone so fiercely guarded. His voice was barely above a whisper, a cruel twist to his words. "Your love... It never meant anything to me, darling. Your heart is like a toy, discarded when it no longer holds my interest."

Y/n's tears blurred his vision. But none of them fall. He takes a deep breath. Accepting the end. He grabbed Hannibal's hand that was holding the knife and pressed the tip against his chest. "Take it..."

Hannibal's eyes darkened, a sinister gleam reflecting the darkness within. He grabbed Y/n's chin gently but firmly, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"You'd be willing to offer your heart to me?" He asked a hint of mockery in his tone. "How... Delusional of you."

"If your heart isn't mine then mine isn't worth no more," Y/n said. His voice is weak. He is surprised he can manage to talk.

Hannibal looked at him, the gleam of the knife's blade reflecting in his dark eyes.

"Oh, but darling, my heart was never yours to take in the first place," he said, his words dripping with a cold certainty.

Y/n has accepted that he's about to die. Hannibal won't let him live while knowing the truth.. right? He has to say what he wants to send his heart free and die in peace.

"I love you..." He whispered.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Hannibal's face. His eyes darkened, struggling to suppress the flicker of humanity within him. The words 'I love you' seemed to pierce his heart, awakening a buried sentiment he had tried to deny.

"You... Love me?" He repeated, his voice tinged with bitterness and disbelief.

"Always... Even now... Even then... Even from now on..." Y/n said and added pressure against the knife. It pierced through the shirt and into the skin but only a little bit.

Hannibal's grip on the knife tightened, his hand trembling slightly. A battle occurred within him, a struggle between the cold-blooded killer and the fragments of his humanity.

"Stop," he commanded, his voice sharp. "Don't be foolish."

Y/n looked up at Hannibal. He can see the conflict.

Hannibal's eyes met Y/n's, the cold and detached persona crumbling for a brief moment. The sight of y/n's desperation, the depth of his love, stirred something within Hannibal.

"This... isn't some romantic tale, darling," he said, his voice strained.

"I don't care... Let me die as if it was one." Y/n was determined. Stubborn.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Hannibal. The words cut through his facade, leaving him vulnerable and conflicted. The lines between the dark desires and the lingering humanity within him blurred. He fought against his own impulses, torn between the part of him that reveled in the symphony of death and the part that could almost feel compassion.

"No," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I can't let you die, not like this. Not for me."

Y/n looks at Hannibal with a mix of confusion and curiosity.

Hannibal's gaze never wavered, his mind torn between the monster he was and the rare flicker of humanity y/n managed to ignite within him.

"Why must you be so naive, so blindly in love with a monster like me?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper.

"You make me want foolish things"

A sardonic half-smile played on Hannibal's lips, his eyes roaming over y/n's face with a mix of amusement and mockery.

"Foolish things, darling? Like, love, I suppose?"

"Yes," Y/n responded without hesitation.

A flicker of vulnerability crossed his features, a chink in the armor of his cold exterior. He clenched his jaw, torn between the desire to mock y/n's foolishness and the unwanted pull of emotions he stirred within him.

"Love... an overrated sentiment," he scoffed, though his words lacked his usual conviction.

Y/n gives a weak smile and adds pressure to the knife yet again. He winces at the pain but it will soon be over.

Hannibal's gaze flickered between the knife and y/n's determined expression, his mind racing. A battle raged within him, the lines between his cold nature and the strange sense of responsibility he felt towards y/n blurring.

"Damn you…" he muttered under his breath, the words tinged with a mix of frustration and a hint of worry as he pulled the knife out of how far it went into y/n's chest and threw it away. The knife glides across the basement room. Away from them.

Y/n watched throw the knife away. It did dig through but not deep enough to cause serious damage. Y/n looked at Hannibal with confusion.

Hannibal stared at the discarded knife, a rare moment of indecision in his eyes. For a fleeting moment, a glimmer of what resembled regret flickered within him. The sight of y/n's confusion only deepened his own inner turmoil.

"Why did you do that?" Y/n sounded confused.

Hannibal looked at y/n, his gaze intense and conflicted. The usual indifference in his eyes was replaced by a mixture of anger and something akin to guilt. His voice was soft yet sharp.

"You dare ask 'Why?'" he seethed, his hands clenching at his sides. "Because I don't want your death on my conscience, fool. Because no matter how much I should want you gone, I can't bring myself to it."

Y/n stares at Hannibal with surprise. He's filled with confusion and... hope. He's so overwhelmed that he doesn't realize the sniffle that escaped his lips.

The sound of Y/n's sniffle pierced through the thick tension in the room, stirring something within Hannibal that he couldn't quite define. His expression tensed, a crack in his usual composure.

"Stop that," he said, his voice gruff. "Don't...don't cry."

"Hannibal why..." Y/n whispered through his sniffles.

The sound of his name on y/n's lips, spoken with such desperation, stirred an unexpected array of feelings within him. His gaze softened, the masks of indifference and control slipping for a moment.

"Why what, darling?" he asked, his voice a strained whisper.

"Why keep me alive when the one thing I want in life is not in my reach?" Y/n questioned. He doesn't know what to feel.

The question pierced Hannibal like a dagger, his cold facade crumbling further. He took a step closer, the turmoil of emotions within him nearly overwhelming.

"Because... because I can't bear to watch you destroy yourself because of me," he admitted, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. "I didn't realize... how deeply you felt, how foolishly attached you'd become."

Y/n looks down, "I don't want to be if being with you is not a possibility"

Hannibal gaze traced over y/n's defeated form, and something in him seemed to crack. The reality of y/n's pain, the depth of his attachment, resonated within Hannibal, stirring a feeling he had long suppressed.

"You're a fool," he said softly, his voice tinged with both frustration and something almost like regret. "An absolute fool for allowing me to have such power over you."

Y/n can't handle it anymore. He let's out a sob. He's emotionally overwhelmed. The blood soaking his shirt and chest doesn't help.

The sound of y/n's tears tore at Hannibal, causing him to hesitate. He took a step closer, torn between his cold nature and the unwelcome emotions y/n stirred within him.

"Don't... don't cry," he repeated, his voice a strangled whisper, as if the sound of your tears physically pained him.

Y/n wanted to stop. He already proved to be an absolute fool. Crying is the last thing he wants to do. But no matter how hard he tries to stop the sobs keep rolling past his lips.

Hannibal's heart wrenched at the sound of y/n's sobs, the pain in his voice tearing at the fragments of his humanity he desperately tried to bury. He clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure.

"Damn you," he muttered, his words harsh yet lacking their usual conviction. "You've unraveled me... torn down the walls I've so carefully built."

"Why don't you love me? Is it because you can't? You won't?" Y/n wanted the truth.

Y/n's words hit Hannibal like a punch to the gut, exposing a raw nerve he had tried to deny. He recoiled at the question, his usual cold facade momentarily crumbling.

"Love... love is a weakness, darling," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "I've learned to thrive without it. I don't... I can't love...not like you do."

"Love isn't a weakness" Y/N's words sound so naive.

Hannibal clenched his jaw, a rare hint of vulnerability flickered across his face, the raw pain in his eyes betraying his facade.

"Love is the epitome of weakness," he retorted, his voice tinged with a bitter edge. "It makes you weak, clouds your judgment, and leaves you vulnerable. Look at you... look at what it has done to you, darling."

"A fool would make love his weakness" Y/n knowns he sounds stupid. He is the fool. But he knows that and that's why he's saying it.

Hannibal's eyes fixed onto y/n's, his gaze intense and conflicted, as if torn between the monster he was and the emotions y/n stirred within him.

"And you haven't?" he countered, his voice a mix of mockery and reluctant admiration. "Love has made you weak, darling. It has brought you to your knees, ready to sacrifice everything for a monster like me."

"because I *am* a fool. But if a man isn't a fool, he'd burn the world to give his love what he wants, and nothing would stop him. Love is what you let it be." Y/n sounds so sure of himself that it almost makes Hannibal believe him.

Hannibal's eyes widened, a glimmer of something resembling admiration flickering in their depths. Y/n's words struck a chord within him, shaking his cold exterior.

"You believe love is such a powerful force?" he retorted, a hint of mockery in his voice. "That a man would truly burn the world for the one he loves?"

"I would."

Hannibal's breath caught in his throat, the raw sincerity in y/n's words cutting through the mask of indifference he had so carefully crafted. The intensity of y/n's love and devotion both intrigued and unnerved him.

"You truly would?" he whispered, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and a hint of something... admiration.

"all these months...was any of it real... anything...?' Y/n whispered. He doesn't know why he asked. He's scared of the answer. But he has to know.

Hannibal's face contorted in a mix of conflicting emotions, his composure faltering under the weight of y/n's question. A pang of guilt washed over him, his walls crumbling at the sight of y/n's pain.

"Some of it.....yes," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "Some of it was real... but it was never meant to go this far, darling."

Y/n looks down. His mind is spinning. A sniffle slips past his lips.

The sound of y/n's sniffle tugged at something deep within Hannibal, causing him to take a step closer. He reached out, his hand hovering in the air, uncertain if he should offer comfort or maintain his distance.

"Don't cry..." he said gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of concern. His hand makes contact with y/n's cheek.

Y/n immediately seeks the familiarity of comfort he used to get from Hannibal's touch.

Y/n's sudden gesture caught Hannibal off guard, his hand trembling slightly as y/n buried his face in it. Hannibal's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and a sense of unaccustomed vulnerability washing over him.

"Darling..." he whispered, his voice strained, the use of the endearment slipping out unintentionally.

"Hannibal I cannot be if I'm not with you..." Y/n confessed. He's had enough lies today.. All he can do is be honest and show Hannibal that he truly does love him.

His heartfelt words struck a nerve within Hannibal, causing him to falter. He closed his eyes, a mix of conflicting emotions playing across his face. The weight of y/n's despair, the depth of his attachment, shook Hannibal's cold facade to its core.

"You shouldn't say things like that, darling..." he said softly, his words tinged with both admonishment and a hint of something... reluctant affection.

Y/n keeps his face in Hannibal's hand. Even with the absurdity of the situation, y/n still finds comfort in Hannibal's hands.

Hannibal looked down at y/n, his eyes softening despite his efforts to remain detached. He gently took Y/n's chin in his hand, gently tilting his face upwards, his touch surprisingly tender.

Y/n looks into those brown eyes he's grown to love so much.

Hannibal's gaze met y/n's, the cold indifference in his eyes replaced by a mixture of pain and a hint of something akin to affection. He studied y/n's face, his heart constricting at the depth of y/n's pain. He struggled to find words, conflicted between his desire to remain aloof and the unsettling emotions y/n stirred within him.

"Why won't you let me..." Y/n's words fall but he knows Hannibal understands him.

Hannibal winced at the question, the truth of it hitting him like a punch to the gut. His jaw clenched, his eyes darting away from y/n's, conflicted and frustrated.

"You don't understand, darling..." he said, his voice strained with the effort of resisting y/n's plea.

"then make me understand"

Frustration and desperation flashed across Hannibal's face, his usual composure slipping further at y/n's insistence. He took a step back, creating distance between them, as if trying to erect a barrier against his own emotions.

"You think you can understand the mind of a monster like me, darling?" he snapped, his voice sharp. "You're just a naive fool, blinded by love and delusion."

Y/n looks down. He feels let down.

His dejected expression caused a ripple of guilt to wash over Hannibal, his heart clenching at the sight of y/n's pain. He clenched his fists, struggling to maintain his cold exterior and ignore the tug of emotions within him.

"Damn you...." he muttered, his voice tinged with both anger and a hint of something akin to regret.

"I don't have to understand...I just want to know..." Y/n pleaded. He was desperate to save this.

His persistence gnawed at his resolve, his usual composure crumbling further. He let out a frustrated sigh, his words filled with a mixture of anger and reluctant honesty.

"You want to know why I won't let you?" he spat, his voice strained. "It's because I can't afford to lose control, to allow emotions to cloud my reasoning. Love... love is a weakness, a vulnerability that I can't allow myself to have."

"Love is a weakness because you make it a weakness" Y/n argued.

His words sliced through Hannibal, striking a nerve in his cold exterior. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to let his guard down.

"You think it's that easy? To simply choose not to be weak?" he retorted, his voice tinged with both anger and a hint of desperation. "Love makes people vulnerable, fools them into making... foolish choices."

"Love gives you the chance to be you. To be free. To relax. To lay back and give in. To be in the moment with the one true human being who wants nothing more but to cherish you. That is not a weakness that is humanity." Y/n stands by his words.

Hannibal's heart constricted at your words, a pang of an unknown emotion tugging at his cold exterior. Y/n's description of love stirred something within him, something he had long suppressed.

"You make it sound so... so pure, so simple," he said, his voice strained with a hint of vulnerability. "But it's not, darling. It's complicated, messy, and dangerous. You don't understand...love destroys, it changes people."

"Does it have to? Does it truly have to change a person so much that they're not themselves anymore? Or does it just help a person to be themselves" Y/n keeps arguing. He doesn't want to give up.

Hannibal's gaze darkened at y/n's words, a hint of the monster within him surfacing through his usually detached demeanor.

"Yes...like kill," he admitted, his voice dangerously soft. "Love can drive even the sanest of us to unimaginable acts of violence, darling. You're underestimating its power, its hold over people."

"If I had you. I'd kill for you if you were ever in danger" Y/n's face turns serious for the first time today. He's had enough of Hannibal's excuses that he's determined to show what love can do.

The intensity in y/n's voice shook Hannibal to his core, stirring a mix of dark desire and a hint of unease within him.

"You would kill...for me?" he asked, his voice a low, almost dangerous whisper, tinged with a strange mixture of curiosity and caution.

"Yes." The word is so simple but the way y/n said made Hannibal realize how serious y/n is about this.

He studied y/n, his gaze intense, evaluating the depths of y/n's conviction. A hint of admiration flickered in his eyes, mixed with a touch of caution.

"You truly would, darling? You'd cross that line, stain your hands with blood... all for me?"

"If it meant your safety"

Hannibal shivers. A flicker of something resembling awe washed over him, his usual cold indifference replaced by a trace of vulnerability.

"You're willing to go to extraordinary lengths, darling. To forsake your morality, your principles... all for the sake of protecting me."

"Yes. Because that's what love makes me want to do."

Y/n's words struck a chord within Hannibal, stirring something deep in his cold heart. For a moment, he hesitated, torn between his natural detachment and the unaccustomed feelings y/n stirred within him.

"You make it sound so beautiful, so noble," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of mockery. "But can you guarantee it won't consume you, darling? Can you be sure it won't lead you down a dark path from which you can't return?"

"if I have you by my side there is no dark path" Y/n sounds so foolish. So naive. But you can see in hi eyes that he means every word he says.

Hannibal clenched his jaw, y/n's words slicing through his carefully crafted defenses. For a moment, he felt a flicker of weakness, a rare moment of vulnerability. He took a step closer, the air between them crackling with tension. His voice, sharp as glass, betrayed a hint of suppressed emotion.

"You speak as if you're immune to darkness, as if my presence somehow shields you from it. But you're wrong, darling. I am the darkness. Loving me is a one-way ticket to the abyss."

"Then I'll be the light." Oh y/n. You fool.

Hannibal let out a mix between a chuckle and a bitter snort, his heart twisted in knots.

"The light, you say? You think you can be the light to my darkness, darling? You're deluding yourself. You truly have no idea what it means to love a monster like me."

"You're mistaken. I know what it's like to love a monster like you because I do love you." Y/n's words cut through the tension in the room like a hot knife through butter.

Hannibal felt a pang in his chest, his heart both warmed and shattered by y/n's words. He clenched his jaw, trying to fight the emotions surging within him, but your unwavering love and devotion left him floundered.

"You can't... you can't love me, not really. I'm a monster, darling. I'm capable of unspeakable things. You're just fooling yourself, blinded by some foolish notion of love and redemption."

"I was ready to take my life for you"

Hannbal's face paled at the memory of the knife digging into y/n's chest earlier, his usually composed facade faltering. His eyes falling onto the blood on y/n's shirt.

"You... you were really ready to throw away your life for me?" he whispered, his voice trembling, his heart torn in two. "You're insane... you're utterly insane. No one should love like that."

"Yet I do." Y/n sighed.

Hannibal was stunned into silence, his mind racing to make sense of y/n's devotion. He felt a mix of awe, fear, and something else, something he refused to acknowledge. The realization that y/n would sacrifice everything for him shook him to his core, and he searched for words to reject his love.

"You're making a mistake, darling. Loving me is... it's madness. I'm not deserving of it. I will only bring you pain and suffering."

"Pain is part of life," Y/n said softly and took a step closer.

Hannibal furrowed his brow, a mix of frustration and desperation etched across his face.

"You're oversimplifying it. Loving me isn't just about a few moments of pain or heartbreak. It's about plunging into a world of darkness and depravity. You have no idea the things I've done, the darkness I've embraced. You can't love a monster, darling."

Y/n digs his fingers in the hole of his shirt where the knife has left a hole and rips it off. He looks at the still-bleeding wound. "This. This is what life without you leads me to. For you are the only thing I want. The only thing I have." Y/n's voice breaks at the end, but he stands by his words no matter how delusional he is becoming.

Hannibal's gaze fixed on the bleeding wound, a mix of horror and passion washing over him. He felt a wave of emotions crash over him, his heart shattered at the sight of y/n's pain. He took a step closer, hesitating to reach out, torn between his usual aloofness and the overwhelming need to touch him

"Hannibal, I don't want to be without you," Y/n whispered through the shake of his voice.

Hannibal's resolve crumbled. Y/n's words, filled with raw desperation, pierced through his defenses. He took another step closer, his hand trembling as it reached out, gently touching the wound on y/n's chest, his touch surprisingly tender.

"You foolish, foolish thing," he said, his voice a mix of anger and pain. "You have no idea what it means to be with me. I'm a monster, a creature of darkness. I'll only bring you misery."

"But misery is the only thing I feel when the thought of not being with you strikes me. At least then I'll have you through the misery." Y/n is desperate. He wants Hannibal to understand that he doesn't want to be without him. That he loves him no matter what.

Hannibal's hand lingered on the wound, his expression a mix of frustration and helplessness. He clenched his jaw, torn between his desire to push y/n away and his need to hold onto him.

"You're stubborn, darling. You're willing to face misery, to walk willingly into darkness, all for me. It's madness. But... you make me feel... something, something I've never felt before. You make me question everything I've ever believed."

Y/n reaches out. "Please, Hannibal..." He begs. Y/n is filled with hope again and tries to test the waters.

Hannibal froze, his every fiber of being telling him to push y/n away, to maintain his usual aloofness. But instead, he found himself drawn towards him, his hand reaching out to meet his.

"Damn you, darling... damn you for making me feel this way. For making me want you. I should push you away, but I... I can't."

Y/n pulls him closer. Feeling more hopeful.

Hannibal let out a strangled gasp, his body betraying his usual aloofness as he stumbled closer to y/n. His hands found their way to his waist, gripping him tightly, as if he was holding onto him for dear life.

"You... you're going to be the death of me, darling," he murmured, his voice rough with a mixture of desire and despair.

"Love me..." Y/n murmured as he leaned closer.

Hannibal's resolve crumbled completely, his desire for y/n overpowering his usual resistance. He pulled him closer, his arms wrapping around him, holding him tightly against his body. He buried his face in y/n's hair, his voice a ragged whisper.

"I...I can't resist you anymore, darling. Damn you for making me love you."

Y/n cups Hannibal's cheeks and pulls him into a desperate kiss. He pours all the mash of emotions he just gone through past this hour or however long have they been talking.

Hannibal's breath hitched as y/n kissed him, his heart racing in his chest. He kissed him back, passionately, desperately, as if he was drowning and he were his only source of air. His hands roamed across his body, his touch a mix of rough desire and gentle possessiveness.

Y/n lets out a quiet moan and reaches his hands into Hannibal's hair.

Hannibal's breath ragged, he growled at the sound of y/n's moan, the primal desire within him growing stronger. He pulled him flush against him, his body pressing against his as his hands wandered, exploring y/n's frame. His lips found his neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to the sensitive flesh.

Y/n throws his head back and moans again. "Love me.."

Hannibal murmured against his skin, his voice a hoarse whisper.

author’s notes: This is focused on eventual Hannibal/Reader, through the lens of the fans! You’re both actors working on a popular TV series together. 

This has been in my drafts for so damn long. I’m finally setting it free. (And am I at work right now? Maybe. Shut up.) I first got inspo from a Jonathan Bailey interview clip—that man could have chemistry with a brick, I swear—and then this quickly turned into a beast. Pls ignore the shitty low-effort title, because I need to get this outtttt haha. It’s a light-hearted read, and I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: suggestive humor, unwanted physical contact from a fan

IMDB

Breaking Apart TV Series | 2023– | TV-14 | 50m

Fiction | Dark Fantasy | Psychological Drama | Tragedy

Breaking Apart follows enemies Mikael and Ezra through a dizzying mix of dystopian cities, elegant ballrooms, crumbling towers, and much more. The two men have opposing missions, but after Mikael’s hesitation allows Ezra to escape his grasp, they’re fated to keep crossing paths. 

Season 2 is out now. 

Stars: Hannibal Lecter ❘ You

Twitter

breakingapart

Looking for Season 2? Breaking Apart is now streaming on select platforms. Eye contact not included. (Or is it?) 👁️

[eyecolor.mp4: A clip from an interview with Hannibal and you. The two of you sit next to each other in well-tailored suits, slight smiles on your faces as the interviewer continues with their next question.

Interviewer So, in keeping on theme with the questions so far, what color are his eyes, Hannibal? 

You adjust the flip-sign that you were given, which reads “True” on the front and “False” on the back. You use it to obstruct your face, so that he can’t see your eyes. 

Hannibal (amused) Ah. A trick question. One that can’t be answered with this sign. 

Of course, it doesn’t seem to matter that you’ve hidden your face. Hannibal still answers correctly. With almost no hesitation. 

Interviewer All right, and let’s see the reveal… 

You let the sign fall to your side and blink exaggeratedly. 

You He got it. (looking over at Hannibal) Nice job. 

Hannibal It wasn’t difficult.]

189k likes | 90.8k retweets

Replies: greatdient: they’re so in love, idc what anyone says

seleneyer: feels like we’re interrupting something → bloopdooptroop: right? like do y’all need a room? 😭😭😭

seokjinniestan: hannibal could have chemistry with a brick → roliviaodrigo: seriously tho

nickthegrapez: idk who i want to be more → purplenurple3: THIS

YouTube universalstudios

Breaking Apart: Season 2 recap

After discussing some of the general themes of the show’s second season, the interviewer changes tracks. 

Interviewer And what do we think about a third season?

You Morally… no. I’m against it. 

I don’t think everything needs to have a third and fourth and fifth season, you know? Everyone always wants a happy ending, or just an ending that gives them closure. But when something ends in uncertainty, that’s even better—at least to me. It allows for unique interpretation; it challenges the viewer to come to their own conclusions.

Hannibal …Very well put.

You Thanks. (smiling after a brief pause) But, y’know, depending on how much money they offer…

You all laugh. 

You I’m sorry, I completely stole that question. What do you think, Hannibal?

Hannibal No apologies necessary.

I agree with you. However, I would be very curious to see my character more fleshed out in another season. We didn’t really get a chance to explore Mikael’s whole backstory in Season 2. 

You That’s true. It would be interesting to see a character-driven narrative, especially since the large-scale conflict has seemingly died down. Seemingly. 

YouTube

@buzzfeed The Lead Actors of ‘Breaking Apart’ read Thirst Tweets

Hannibal and you sit next to one another, a white background cast behind you. You exchange an amused look.

You (turning to the camera) This should be interesting. I’m sure there’s no shortage of Hannibal thirst tweets out there, but I’m hoping you had to go digging for mine. Hopefully. (crossing fingers)

Hannibal There will be plenty for you, I am certain. Shall I start us off? 

You Go for it. 

Hannibal puts his hand in a blue patterned jar, pulling out a long slip of paper with a Tweet printed out on it. 

Hannibal (eyes flitting about the paper, before he turns to look at you) Ah. The first one reads: ‘I want to bite you so bad’

You Uh… what? Why are you looking at me?

Hannibal Because it’s for you. See?

He holds the paper out to you. You read it. 

You Jesus. And hey, you missed some. Can’t forget the “plsplsplsplpls” at the end. That’s censorship.

Hannibal Of course, my apologies. 

You reach for a slip of paper in the jar. 

You This one says: ‘Hannibal Lecter is so fking fine i hope his Cheetos are FLAMING HOT like him’

Hannibal (looking at you with a slight smile) Well. Thank you, I think. 

You Don’t thank me, thank them. (motioning at the camera) 

And I feel like Hannibal has probably never even tried Cheetos, let alone the flaming hot ones. 

Hannibal (eyes glimmering with amusement) It’s true. 

You His delicate European taste buds would crumble into bits. 

You pull the next slip of paper. 

‘Step on me.’

Hannibal (blinking owlishly) Pardon? 

You Step on me. That’s all it says. 

Hannibal Oh.

…No thank you. 

You smile and pull another paper. 

Next one… ‘No, because you don’t understand. You don’t understand. You don’t UNDERSTAND. I need Hannibal Lecter like I need water, like I need air, like I need caffeine, like I need food and sunlight and and and and’

…Looks like it ends there. 

Hannibal Lecter That is… flattering, I suppose. Thank you. 

You Yeah, just take it as a compliment. Okay, I feel like we’re on a roll here, so I’m just going to keep going. These aren’t that bad so far— 

You pull another slip of paper and start reading it, your eyes widening. 

Hannibal Care to share with the audience? 

You (fighting off laughter) This one’s crazy. Just a fair warning. Very suggestive. Explicit. 

Kids, if you’re watching this… Well, don’t. Go away. Plug your ears. 

Hannibal Don’t leave us in suspense. 

You (taking a deep breath) Alright. Hannibal Lecter can— 

You promptly break into laughter. Hannibal tries to peek at the card but you tilt it away from him. 

Whew. Okay. I’m good. I can do this. 

‘Hannibal Lecter can get it any hour of the day, any day of the week, any month of the year, any way, sideways, up and down, left to right—’

You promptly duck your head, laughing so hard it feels like you’re choking. The blank expression on Hannibal’s face isn’t helping. 

Hannibal Shall I finish it for you?

Hannibal leaves you no choice in the matter, taking the paper from your hand. He holds it up and recites the rest, while you’re struggling to keep it together. By the end, you’re practically in tears and Hannibal is just smirking slightly. 

You I need to take a lap. 

You get to your feet and circle the film space. Hannibal watches you do this; you don’t seem to notice. Eventually, you return to your seat. 

Okay. Wow. That was a lot. 

Hannibal (with a restrained smile) Now it’s your turn. 

You No, just reading yours has been more than enough—!!

Hannibal turns in his chair so that he’s facing you. He makes eye contact even as he draws a slip of paper. 

Oh no. I don’t like this… 

Hannibal (smirking, before looking up from the paper at you) ‘Make out with me in front of a church. And other ungodly things that I’d rather not leave on my digital footprint.’

You (laughing) That is what I went to Catholic school for. 

Hannibal (amused) To make out with someone in front of a church? And other ungodly things?

You Exactly. 

You turn to the camera. 

But seriously, sign me up. I want to give a priest an aneurysm. 

Hannibal I’m afraid they’ll have to get in line. (raises eyebrows at camera) 

Next… ‘Ezra and Mikael are my dream threesome.’

You That’s… mildly concerning. 

Hannibal Right. Probably more indicative of their mental state than they realize. 

Hannibal pulls out another paper. 

‘Who plays Ezra from Breaking Apart and where can I find boyfriend aesthetic pictures of him?’

You Well, that’s me. And Pinterest, probably. You can find anything there. I don’t think I have many pictures like that, though…

Hannibal (with unshakeable certainty) You definitely do.

Next… ‘You made me realize I was gay’.

You (wryly) That was definitely written by a lesbian. As in, “you’re so vile that you turned me off the male gender entirely.” 

Hannibal No, but nice try. 

You exchange a helpless glance with the camera. 

Hannibal This was written by a man. As in, “you’re so handsome you made me realize I’m attracted to men romantically.”

Hannibal pulls out another slip of paper. His eyes skim it for a moment before he throws it somewhere behind him. You blink. 

I am not reading that one. 

He pulls another. 

Oh, this one has both of us. ‘I would pay real money to see you kiss.’

You (playfully) How much money are we talking? 

Hannibal (immediately) How much money would it take?

You I mean, our characters almost kissed in that one scene. 

Hannibal Almost being the key word in that sentence. 

You Yes, almost. 

Hannibal (glancing at the camera) You’ll have to take that up with our agents, it seems. 

You Yes. Ooh, last one. 

You pull out one last slip of paper. 

‘Hannibal Lecter could punch me in the face and I’d give him both of my kidneys.’

Hannibal Lecter I will not be punching anyone in the face, then. 

You Yeah, both kidneys is a bit crazy. You need at least one! But I guess that’s the whole point. 

You sigh in relief. 

Hannibal, we did it. We survived. How do you feel?

Hannibal Objectified. 

You Ahaha. Same. But! (turning towards the camera)

We appreciate all your love and support! And if you haven’t already, go watch Breaking Apart on select streaming services now. 

Hannibal Thank you. Goodbye. 

Twitter

Trending #BreakingApart Related tags: #HannibalLecter, #ThirstTweets

googoogagged “I’m afraid they’ll have to get in line” are you JOKING?????? #ThirstTweets → leothelioner: i’m dumb what does this mean → tzuyusolosurfaves: ur not dumb! & this implies that there are other people waiting who want to do that, like Hannibal himself. That’s how it sounded to me, anyway → leothelioner: Oh SHIT THANKSSS

sportsladdy was there some tension there or am i crazy #ThirstTweets

ezrakael69 Hannibal fully turning in his chair and looking INTO HIS CO-STAR’S EYES as he read those #ThirstTweets… goodbye

apartbreakingggEvery time Ezra’s actor tried to be self-deprecating, #HannibalLecter didn’t let it happen 😭 → gratepaers: “that was probably written by a lesbian” and hannibal just going “no.” LOL

justlikekiki so we’re just supposed to believe they’re not dating…? #ThirstTweets #BreakingApart[buzzfeed.jpgs: Four photos of Hannibal and you looking at one another.]

chillycheese “I am not reading that one” ok but WHAT DID IT SAYYYYY → channibalchuckster: i bet my life it wasn’t about hannibal. → chillycheese: omg like… he couldn’t read it abt his costar??? sobs he’s so in LOVE → channibalchuckster: this is so true and so real → purplepanther: genuinely think you’re onto something there. Because he had no qualms reading that explicit one about himself 😭

YouTube spotify Make a playlist: Leading Men of Breaking Apart

Hannibal and you sit on camera, a whiteboard with ten slots between you. 

You Why we were chosen for this, I haven’t the faintest idea. 

Hannibal That’s neither here nor there. 

You I guess. This shouldn’t be as bad as the thirst Tweets, at least. 

Hannibal True. Now, I believe we each choose… five songs? 

You Yeah, about that… (looking somewhere off-camera) Do we just pick songs we like? Or is this supposed to be a certain vibe? 

Producer (from off-screen) Just songs you’ve been enjoying recently. They don’t have to match one another. 

You Okay, good. Because Hannibal’s are all going to be classical pieces. 

Hannibal You know me so well. 

The two of you are silent for a while as you write on your whiteboards. 

You (murmuring to yourself) Wow, I am really chronically online. Damn. 

Hannibal Hm?

You Oh, nothing. Just… about to make a fool of myself. 

Hannibal Just choose songs you like. 

You Easy for you to say. Yours are all sophisticated and whatnot. 

Hannibal So? I’m sure the fans would rather hear your honest choices. 

You (slightly unconvinced) I guess… 

The two of you finish up with your selections. 

Producer (from off-camera) Perfect. Now if you could both take turns with revealing a song you’ve chosen and why you’ve chosen it. You can then write it in one of the slots on the board between you. 

You Cool, thanks. 

Hannibal I can go first, if you’d like. 

You Sure, go for it. 

Hannibal My first choice… is Bach’s Goldberg Variations. 

You Great. 

Hannibal You would probably know it if you heard it. 

You Eh… Maybe. I don’t want to make any promises. 

Hannibal I often listen to music while I’m cooking. I find it helps alleviate stress. 

You Oh yeah! Hannibal is a really good cook, guys. Chef. Whatever the fanciest word is. 

Hannibal Thank you. 

You He’s being humble about it, but he’s seriously really good. Like, his dishes take hours of preparation. Lots of patience. 

Hannibal I believe it’s your turn to pick a song. 

You Fine, fine. Just saying!

Okay. So this is going to be an absolutely incoherent playlist, but it’s fine. 

My first song is The Moon Will Sing by the Crane Wives. I’ve been really into their music lately, and I love their lyrics. It’s got kind of a flowy vibe to it. Like… it’s happy, but melancholic too. I think their music always strikes that balance really well. 

Hannibal is just staring at you silently. He doesn’t speak. You clear your throat. 

Anyways. That’s my first pick. 

You write it on the whiteboard between you before turning to Hannibal expectantly. 

Hannibal Right. My second choice is The Four Seasons by Vivaldi. I don’t have much more to say than that, I’m afraid. 

You It’s okay. We don’t have to go into rhetorical analysis for each one if we don’t want to. Right? 

(You look at the producer off-camera, who evidently nods in agreement.)

Hannibal Good. The piece doesn’t necessarily need explaining, either. It’s a classic. 

You Seems like most of yours are. Do you have a musical background? 

Hannibal Somewhat. I can play the piano, but my preferred instrument is the harpsichord. 

You Huh. I don’t think I’ve even heard of that one. 

Hannibal I’ll have to play for you some time. 

You Yeah, that would be great!

Hannibal Your turn.

You My second pick is My Iron Lung by Radiohead. It’s gritty, scratchy. 

Hannibal Scratchy?

You Yeah. Kind of alternative… I guess? The song has an earthy feel to it. That’s the best way I can describe it. 

You write it on the #4 slot.

Hannibal My third choice is Mozart’s Apollo et Hyacinthus. 

You (squinting as if trying to remember something) When Hyacinthus was dying, Apollo turned him into a flower. That’s where the hyacinth flower’s name came from, right? 

There’s a long pause. 

I know that’s, like, the Sparknotes version, but… 

Hannibal Yes. That’s correct. 

You (smirking at the camera) See, I do know things. Sometimes. Very rarely. 

Hannibal Don’t sell yourself short. 

You …Okay. 

Well, my third choice is Back to Me by the Marías. Again, not much explanation needed. I like the song; it’s dreamy and mellow, but also has a bit of yearning and longing in it. Your next choice, Hannibal? 

Hannibal Clair de Lune by Debussy. 

You Ooh, I really like that one. 

Hannibal Me too. Next?

You My fourth choice is I Am The Dog by Sir Chloe. I’ve been digging her music lately. 

Hannibal Can’t say I’ve heard of her. 

You I would be very surprised if you had. She has around… one million monthly listeners or so? Technically it’s both the band’s name but also the singer’s name? I don’t know—I just know I love the music. 

Hannibal I will have to listen.

My final song choice is Dance of the Damned. 

You (eyes widening) Wait. That song was used for Ezra and Mikael’s first encounter, wasn’t it? The ballroom scene? 

Hannibal Yes. 

You Oooh, the fans are going to go crazy for that. Why’d you choose it? 

Hannibal I like it. It was a great choice to accompany the scene. Plus, that was when we—our characters—first met. 

You Oh, wow, that’s true. That feels like forever ago, doesn’t it? 

Hannibal Yes. It does feel as if we’ve known each other for far longer than that. 

You I remember nearly knocking into one of the extras—they were posing as a servant, I think, so they were carrying drinks. That scene was actually difficult! It’s hard enough to navigate a crowded space like that, let alone while keeping your eyes glued to someone else the whole time. 

Hannibal Yes, that scene did require a few attempts, didn’t it?

You Hey, easy for you to say. You just had to stand there. I had to keep weaving through the crowd. 

Hannibal True enough. 

And what will be your final choice? 

You Ah, right. Rounding things off… is Tonight You are Mine by the Technicolors. I remember the first time I listened to this song. It was so magical. It’s dreamy, and it makes me want to stick my head out of the sunroof in a speeding car in a dark tunnel like a movie protagonist. You know? 

You write it on the last slot of the whiteboard. The camera briefly zooms in to show the entire whiteboard, before panning back to the two of you again. 

All right. And there’s our playlist. It will be a nightmare on shuffle. 

Hannibal That it will be. But I’m sure it has charm.

You Yeah! Rough around the edges. She’s multi-faceted, you could say. 

Hannibal huffs in amusement. The video fades out and muted footage of Hannibal and you idly chatting provides the background for the network’s ending card, which has links to other videos and a link to the show’s various social media accounts.

Comments: 

Pinned comment | sevenmedia Listen to their playlist here!

maamplsstawp when he knew the story of Apollo and Hyacinthus… Hannibal looked like he wanted to jump him → hardyharrharr: LMAOOO → gratatata: Jump him?? Like fight??? → anneioop: no, jump him like make out w him → gratatata: OHHHH that makes more sense yeah

madamsir: Ezra’s picks were based. → hashtagstressed: ezra?? you mean his actor?? → giggityjiggitygoo: same thing bitch just different shapes → hashtagstressed: ahaha family guy reference, i see what you did there. also nice username lmao

sevenatenineThis feels strangely romantic. Just me? → hellsbrethren: nope i think so too → livrodrigobecryin: same

rihannawhere Hannibal tried to be humble about his cooking… bahahaha → callyournamebyme: ahaha that was so cute when he was praising him

girlkeepgateboss “That was when we—our characters—first met.” THAT WASN’T SLICK → diningwithlectre: LOL hannibal you aren’t smooth → asrathemagician: that was actually so sweet 😭

INT. – A Comic Con panel with Hannibal and you. The two of you are situated next to each other with microphones. There’s a moderator off to the side and another crew member finding fans in the audience for questions. A few questions have been asked already, and the crew member has just found another fan with their hand raised. 

Fan 5 So, as I’m sure you both know, many viewers resonated with Mikael and Ezra’s dynamic. Not in a literal sense, necessarily. But their dynamic is kind of… open-ended, I guess. I was wondering if you had any thoughts on that. 

You (looking to Hannibal for a second, who seems to be waiting for you to answer) Sure. Well, I understand how many people see it as romantic. I think it can be—and it is—romantic to know a person so intimately, regardless of the exact nature of your dynamic. That’s why enemies-to-lovers type dynamics are so popular. Because if you know another person so deeply, and you recognize all of their faults, and you’re still staying… that says a lot. 

With that in mind, I feel like we have to acknowledge the fact that queerness often relies on ambiguity in mainstream media, even these days. To be considered palatable to a general audience, queer identities are swept aside or unwritten altogether. And that’s very frustrating. 

So, while Mikael and Ezra aren’t ever explicitly stated to be queer, I feel like it’s implied. 

Besides, there’s absolutely an argument for, like… Heterosexual characters never have to “come out” and state their preferences for their sexuality to be validated. So just because these characters haven’t outright said “I’m gay,” or “I only like men,” or anything like that… That doesn’t mean they’re automatically straight. 

It’s silent for a bit. 

Moderator That’s… Wow. Hannibal, anything to add?

Hannibal I don’t believe so. I couldn’t have said it better myself. 

Moderator I agree. And I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say we appreciate your transparency. 

There are assorted whoops and bursts of applause around the room. 

Now, how about another fan question?

Fan 6 I have one! Have either of you ever read Ezra/Mikael fanfic? 

You and Hannibal (accidentally in-sync) Yes. 

The audience goes crazy, screams and cheers echoing throughout the room. You look over at Hannibal helplessly, only to find he’s already staring at you. You quickly look away, pretending you didn’t notice. The fans seem to need a moment to calm down, before the moderator is getting things back on track. 

You Absolutely. I love fanfiction. 

Hannibal I also enjoy reading it. I enjoy learning more about what people take from the story, and how fans interpret the characters. Because there are a lot of qualities about these two—Ezra and Mikael—that can be carried over into other settings, that can be challenged or even eradicated under pressure. I appreciate when fanfiction explores that. 

You Yeah. I read a really great one that had Ezra as a priest and Mikael as a skeptical parishioner. Things like that go so far past two characters. I mean, it was about so much more: organized religion and its antipathy to queerness, growing up in faith, grief… It was beautiful.

Hannibal I think I read that one too. There was a more lighthearted piece recently with the two of them as rival medical students, and it was a fun read. 

You So long story short: yes, we read the fanfics, and yes, we see the fanart. And we greatly, greatly appreciate it. You all are so talented. 

Twitter Trending

Breaking Apart Related tags: #Ezrakael, #Fanfic

bjwritez tell me why i wake up to a million notifs only to find that EZRA AND MIKAEL’S ACTORS HAVE READ MY FIC #Ezrakael → ezraining: cONGRATS OMG → hannibalcannibal: and you thought i was pranking you 🙄 congrats <3333

ezrakael4l And people wonder why these two are the only actors I can trust. [comiccon.mp4: A recording of the ComicCon panel, trimmed to the part where you’re asked about Mikael and Ezra’s relationship dynamic.] #BreakingApart

drhouseapologist “I feel like we have to acknowledge the fact that queerness often relies on ambiguity in mainstream media, even these days. To be considered palatable to a general audience, queer identities are swept aside or unwritten altogether. And that’s very frustrating. So, while Mikael and Ezra aren’t ever explicitly stated to be queer, I feel like it’s implied.”

WHEN I TELL Y’ALL I LOVE THIS MAN #BreakingApart #Fanfic → mikalechips: me too 😭 it’s sad that so many actors are quick to glance over things like this, to invalidate fans and their art forms. but he not only acknowledges us, but respects us and what we do. hell, he encourages us to find ourselves in the characters: to see ourselves in Ezra. DAMN i’m gonna go cry now → drhouseapologist: wait me too :’( sobs

INT. — ComicCon fan signing. 

Fan Hey, guys! You were so great in Breaking Apart, oh my God. I loved it so much!

You Thanks. 

You try to keep your energy up, despite wanting nothing more than to collapse in exhaustion. 

Fan You’re my favorite. 

You almost tune her out before you realize she’s speaking to you, not Hannibal. 

You (huffing good-naturedly) Hey, Hannibal’s right there. 

Fan (far too quickly) I know. I like you better.

You (starting to grow uncomfortable) I— um… okay. You want a picture with us?

Fan Yeah! But just with you.

You (frowning) We’re a package deal, Hannibal and I. 

It’s rude of her to be ignoring him like he’s not standing right there. You lock eyes with him over her shoulder and share a helpless look. 

Fan (imploringly) Aw, come on. 

She leans towards you in a way that almost seems suggestive. You’re not sure if you can control your expression anymore, if the complete discomfort and revulsion you’re feeling is showing on your face.

Kidding. Come on, you have to get closer! I don’t bite.

Then she latches her hand on your wrist. And you freeze. 

Hannibal (firmly) That’s enough.

He removes her hand from your wrist. 

Please ask before doing that. 

Fan (chastised) Oh, right. I’m so sorry! Here, let’s just do… back-to-back, the three of us?

INT. — One of the rooms in the back of the ComicCon venue, after your fan signing is complete.

Hannibal and you entered silently, both needing a moment to compress.  

You (sighing) I’m not made for this, Hannibal. I barely tolerate people touching me normally, let alone… 

Hannibal Strangers. 

You just nod. 

You Thanks for saving me there, though. I appreciate it. 

Hannibal Anytime. 

It’s not rude to assert your boundaries.

You I know. 

You do know that, but you can’t quite get yourself to feel that way at the moment. You rub your hands over your face. It’s been a long day. 

You (blurting out before you can stop yourself) I think I’d go insane if you weren’t here. 

Thankfully, Hannibal doesn’t immediately laugh at you for the remark. Instead, he just hums, his hand finding your shoulder. 

Hannibal Then I’ll make sure to stay.

That makes you smile, even in your distress. But it’s a flickering amusement, disappearing far too quickly. Leaving you empty again. You feel annoyed at yourself for not speaking up, sad for some reason. 

Hannibal is standing in front of you now. You’ve been hiding your face from him, your head bowed a bit. But the way your hands are shaking is probably betraying your distress. There’s a quiet moment that drags on for eternity, with you hiding from Hannibal. 

He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly and you drag your eyes up to him. You feel kind of pathetic, looking up at him from where you’re seated. 

Hannibal has a sympathetic quirk to his lips. His hand slips away from you; his gaze remains fixed on you. It should make you nervous, but it’s weirdly comforting. After hours spent feeling as if you were masquerading as someone else, this is grounding. Hannibal’s next words are quiet but sure. 

Hannibal If you need me, I’m here.

Any feeble attempts at resistance quickly fall to dust in your chest. You’re moving before you can quite understand it yourself. But it doesn’t seem like you need to, because Hannibal is extending his arms and hugging you back. 

You (murmuring into his shoulder) Sorry.

Hannibal You have nothing to apologize for.

Hannibal’s grip is loose but firm enough for you to feel comforted, protected. As you stand there, the stress starts to seep out of you. You take another breath; it feels more measured than before. You want to stand there forever. 

But life is not that generous, and you both have things to do and places to be. 

Until then, you stay. 

Instagram Story

lecterhannibal [espresso.jpg: A quick video of a carefully made espresso sitting on an elegant wooden table. Several books rest on the nearby surface, and a window overlooking city buildings can be seen. There’s a faint sound of music playing in the background.]

Twitter

namjoonismygod HANNIBAL’S NEWEST ISNGATAGNMA SOTYR → bitchnothankyou: ahaha… what? → namjoonismygod: HANNIBAL’S NEWEST INSTAGRAM STORY → bitchnothankyou: what about it? → namjoonismygod: watch it on full volume and you’ll understand → bitchnothankyou: OH MY GOD → namjoonismygod: there you go. That’s the energy you should’ve had from the beginning.

→ willowtreez: wait i don’t get it → namjoonismygod: if you turn it up all the way, you can hear the song playing in the background. it’s “the moon will sing” by the crane wives. WHICH ezra’s actor listed as one of his favorite songs in the playlist video with hannibal. → willowtreez: HOLY SHIT → namjoonismygod: I KNEOW

YouTube

betweentwoferns Between Two Ferns: Lead Actors of Breaking Apart

Interviewer Hannibal, first things first. Your name rhymes with cannibal. 

I guess that’s why this series ate itself alive.

You burst out laughing. It shouldn’t be that funny. But the straightforward nature of the remark, coupled with this foolish setup and the completely blank expression on Hannibal’s face… 

You (wiping at your eyes) Whew. 

Interviewer Low-hanging fruit there… On a more serious note, Hannibal, if you didn’t have an accent, do you think people would be able to tell that you’re not a very good actor?

Silence. Icy. You shoot a glance at Hannibal. He doesn’t even look frustrated or annoyed, just… pensive. Blank. 

Interviewer I also notice that there’s no blood on your face today. Is everything okay?

Hannibal …

…

No. 

Interviewer As I thought. 

Sensing you’re the easier target, the interviewer moves to you. 

Interviewer And you. 

You Oh God. 

At that, Hannibal does crack a smile. 

Interviewer I mean, let’s address the elephant in the room. 

You Okay. Hi. 

Interviewer … 

You Get it? You’re the elephant. 

A few seconds of quiet. 

Interviewer What kind of potion did you give Hannibal, to ensure he’s always with you at these things? Hannibal, blink twice if you’re in need of assistance.

You look over at Hannibal with a grin, finding that he’s just staring dead-on without blinking. You laugh. 

You Yeah, I have a leash for him. And an ankle monitor.

Hannibal nods sincerely, playing along. 

Interviewer Speaking of Breaking Apart… I mean, seriously. When are you guys gonna break apart? This little duo has been everywhere. We’re all sick of you.

A few seconds of silence. 

And if you’re not going the break-up route, then you might want to get a move on before gay marriage is criminalized again.

That one actually makes you choke on a breath. 

You (jokingly) The clock is ticking.

Interviewer Hannibal, some people have it all. Looks… talent… How does it feel to only have looks?

Hannibal doesn’t respond. 

You (without missing a beat) How does it feel to have neither?

Sorry. I just wanted to get that out, before you said it to me. Stole your line.

Silence. 

Interviewer Who are you again?

You Sorry, please, go on. We’d love to hear what you have to say, through your small microphone.

Interviewer Average-sized microphone.

You I’m sure you think so. (looking around the room) I mean, how long has this show been on? Ten years? And white duct tape over clothing is the best you could do? 

Interviewer Seventeen years, thank you very much.

You You haven’t aged a day. 

Hannibal seems to be fighting a smile. 

Although I guess that’s just because you started as an old man. Nice trick there.

Interviewer Are you going to let Hannibal get a word in edgewise? Or is the editor going to have to cut around your sparkling personality? 

You (silently motioning for them to continue)

Interviewer Finally. Now, Hannibal, can I borrow one or two of your sperms?

Hannibal No, you may not. 

Interviewer All right. It’s just what was written on the card, I have to read it. 

…Just for research purposes. 

Hannibal I believe you’re thinking of stem cells. 

Not sperm.

It’s dead silent. 

Hannibal It’s an amateur mistake. 

Interviewer And that is all the time we have. I have. Sorry, I just can’t listen to you speak without thinking that you’re gargling marbles. 

He looks at the camera with a grimace. The video ends. 

Replies: 

user1983975: they were such good sports 😭😭

sableyez: hannibal looked so done,,, meanwhile ezra’s actor was laughing his ass off 

heypizzazz: “Let’s address the elephant in the room.” “Hi.” Ezra’s actor was a bit too quick with that one LOL

darth.hater: ezra’s actor ate him tf up i fear 😭😭😭

channibaleclecter: hannibal seemed a bit too excited about a leash LMFAO

Twitter 

elle When you try to prank call your costar and it backfires… 

[elleinterview.mp4: A short clip of one of your interviews. Transcript:

Interviewer Prank call the last person you texted.

You (defeatedly) …It’s definitely Hannibal. Damn it. 

Okay. I can do this. 

You tap on your phone a few times and put the phone on speaker, briefly showing the camera before holding it face-up. The tone rings once, before it ends. 

Hannibal (from over the phone) Hello. To what do I owe the pleasure?

You (visibly panicking) Hello, Mr. Lecter. We’re calling about your car’s extended warranty— 

Hannibal No thank you.

You Wait, wait, wait! It’s me.

Hannibal I know. I have your contact saved. 

You Oh. Right. Damn it. 

Well, answer a question for me, then.

Hannibal Sure.

You Is a hot dog a sandwich?

Hannibal Is that what you called me to ask? 

You (sighing in defeat) No. I’m prank calling you. Well, I was supposed to be. For ELLE. 

Hannibal I figured as much. You never call me. 

You (looking at the camera with a wide-eyed expression) Oh! Well, now this is just embarrassing. 

Hannibal It’s all right. I know you don’t like phone calls.

You God, how did this turn into me being the victim? Stop it, Hannibal, you’re making me look pathetic.

Hannibal (joking) That is not very hard to do. 

You Okay, that’s more than enough from you. Bye, Hannibal.

You hang up the phone before looking at the camera. It’s quiet for a moment before you just hide your face in your hands. ]

Replies:

user185732: “you never call me” PLSSSSS sir 

godsplanwutwashetakin: hannibal hit him with the uno reverse 😭😭

krakenscove: ejmarie unfortunately us

BREAKING APART SEASON 3 EPISODE 8 TITLE: BEGINNING TO END

P. 26 (cont’d)

MIKAEL You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?

EZRA No, that’s not— 

MIKAEL throws the bottle in his hand. It hits the wall near EZRA’S head and he flinches. 

EZRA I can’t keep doing this. I’m not your punching bag.

EZRA drags his foot back slightly, reluctant to leave but willing to do so anyway. His shoe scuffs against the ground, making a slight screeching sound. MIKAEL’S eyes track the movement, but he remains in place.

EZRA leaves. 

“You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” Hannibal says furiously. Each and every scene you do with him is just another reminder of how talented he is. He fully becomes Mikael, embodies him in every single moment he’s on screen. The audience will love it, you’re sure. 

“No, that’s not—” you say helplessly, channeling all of the frustration and helplessness Ezra would be feeling in the situation. Hannibal is supposed to throw the bottle now, and it takes all of your resistance not to flinch before it hits the wall. 

There’s a harsh snap and a sudden pain on the side of your face. The bottle must’ve hit you. From what you can guess, the majority of it still hit the wall behind you—but some of it grazed past your cheekbone. You think there’s a slight gash on your cheek, maybe a scratch on the edge of your ear. It’s prickling and stinging. 

Stay in character, you say to yourself internally. For the love of everything, stay in fucking character. 

You stare ahead at Hannibal. Your ears are ringing. You can feel the blood dripping down the side of your face. “You said you’d never hurt me,” you say gravely. The words cling to the air. Your character has finally reached his breaking point. “You promised.” 

Hannibal looks lost for words. “I—” he breaks off, evidently thrown by the ad-lib and the impromptu turn this scene has taken. Even amidst this unpredictability, he channels all of Mikael’s irritation and remorse. 

Your boot scuffs against the ground behind you. You turn in a harsh jerk and take a few steps to walk away. 

“Cut!” the director yells. 

You can’t so much as bring a hand to your cheek before there’s a hand on your wrist, turning you around. Hannibal’s eyes are wide with panic. This may just be the most emotion you’ve ever seen him possess off-screen. He looks remorseful, almost frantic. 

“I am so sorry,” he says, his hands rising to cradle your jaw. Hannibal is not the type to look flustered or affected by anything, but you swear his hands are almost trembling. His eyes rove over your face. “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah, I’m good—” you try to say. 

“I practiced that throw countless times; that never should have hit you,” he continues, clearly frustrated with himself. “I apologize.” 

“Hannibal, it’s fine,” you reassure him quickly. You don’t blame him—things like this happen all the time. But you are touched by his concern, you have to admit. “I know it was an accident,” you continue. 

“That doesn’t matter,” Hannibal asserts. His hand remains on your jaw, his thumb gliding across your cheekbone. You almost choke on your next breath. The fervency of his gaze really isn’t helping. “Let me see,” he urges you, tilting your head to the side. 

You don’t need to be able to see the wound to know there’s blood dripping down your cheek. Hannibal inhales sharply, his other hand curling as his fingers test the skin near the gash. “Does it hurt?”

“A bit,” you admit. Hannibal is standing very close. “It’s just a scratch.” It stings a bit, but you’ll live. It’s hardly a mortal wound. 

A crew member bustles over, a first aid kit in hand. Hannibal’s hands remain on your face, even as he turns towards them. “Thank you,” he says politely, with a slight nod. “I’ll do it.” Hannibal takes the first aid kit from the crew member and thanks them once more, before turning towards you. 

“You should sit,” he suggests. An objection is lodged in your throat. You let it die, too overwhelmed and unsure in the face of Hannibal’s commanding certainty. He leads you to the corner nearby, guiding you to sit before tilting your head to the side again and studying the wound. “It’s not too deep, fortunately.”

“I told you, it’s fine,” you try to maintain. He just shoots you a disbelieving look and you fall silent as he patches you up. 

Twitter cigaretteahegao wait wait wait bc,,, doesn’t hannibal look genuinely surprised here??? #BreakingApart

→ coldbrewnt: hear me out: i think that’s acting. → cigaretteahegao: I KNOW NO but still!!! Like, he looks *actually* surprised. → coldbrewnt: sureeeee whatever → cigaretteahegao: YOU’LL LEARN. ONE DAY YOU’LL LEARN> >>!

breakingapart

In honor of Breaking Apart’s birthday, here’s some never-before-seen footage! 

[bts.mp4: Behind-the-scenes footage of Hannibal and you filming the interaction between Ezra and Mikael. You can be seen running through it once smoothly, before the director asks for it once more. This time, the bottle hits the wall but grazes you instead. Your ad-libbed lines surprise Hannibal but he stays in character. Then, just as you leave, the director yells “Cut!” Hannibal rushes towards you.]

→ rodrigobecryin: Oh my fucking god are you serious → odearfinnick: THIS WASN”T SCRPTED???? OFMMDGJDFLKGBDFHKJGHDFDJGH → lawlightagenda: GUYS WAITIWIAWIIIWIAIIAIIAIAIIAIAIT → anneioop: WHAT AHWHWAHTHA WHAWT HWOHWOW HWO HWHWA T

Twitter

Trending

Bottle Scene Related tags: #Ezrakael, #HannibalLecter, #BreakingApart

cigaretteahegaoAnd what did i say. And what did i say. What. did . i. Say. #BottleScene [twt.jpg: A screenshot of a Tweet from the user a few months prior, reading: “wait wait wait bc,,, doesn’t hannibal look genuinely surprised here?]

missstevenuniverseSo you’re telling me that Hannibal accidentally threw the bottle at his co-star. Then immediately rushed over to ensure he was okay. CRADLING his FACE in his HANDS. Fingers across the cheekbones, at the edge of the jaw. You’re telling me… GODDDDDDDDDD #BreakingApart #HannibalLecter → thworppp: the way his eyes were shining in the scene too. he looked moments away from ending the scene himself → gratatatat: THIS

lollipoppedoff the moment i saw that bts footage, i knew what i had to do. 

[ezrakael.jpg: A long strip of fanart in comic form, depicting Ezra and Mikael as actors rehearsing a scene just as Hannibal and you were. The moment the director ends the scene, Mikael is surging forward and checking on Ezra.]

isuglbttttttq #HannibalLecter taking the first aid kit from the crew member so he could patch it up himself 😭 → tmntluvr: ushering him away like he’s mortally wounded… sigh… when is it my turn

mamacomehereee me to my grandkids when i’m 80: i was there when the bottle hit his face. i was there. #BottleScene

Variety Magazine

The Breaking Apart Interview: Bottles and Birthdays

[Transcript from 06:15: 

I mean, I have to ask. Everyone wants to know: was that bottle throw really unscripted?

You: Well, sort of. It was written in the script: Mikael throws it at the wall. 

Hannibal: I was supposed to throw it at the wall. I’d practiced dozens of times before even filming the scene, because I didn’t want to hurt him. 

It wasn’t meant to hit him, you’re saying? 

Hannibal: Correct. That part was not scripted. And I nearly ruined it after. 

You: You did seem shocked. I felt kind of bad, honestly. I didn’t want you to think I was mad or something. 

H: You would’ve had a right to be mad. But I get the feeling you’re too forgiving for that. 

Y: You’re making me sound like a saint. In reality, I just had this moment of clarity, where I was like: oh. This could change everything. I was pretty much screaming at myself to stay in character, to pretend like I didn’t even notice. 

Did it hurt? 

Y: Not really.

H: You can tell the truth. 

Y: I mean, it didn’t feel good. But it was hardly unbearable. If I was well and truly hurt, if the pain ever got that bad, I wouldn’t have kept going. 

Ah. Well, it sounds like it was… I don’t want to say a happy accident. Maybe the better way to phrase it is that you two capitalized on the moment. 

H: Yes, I suppose so. The credit really goes to my costar here. I would’ve probably stopped filming. 

Y: Hannibal keeps beating himself up about it, but I’ve told him it’s fine. 

H: It was very close to your eye. It could’ve scarred, caused permanent damage— 

You just sigh. The interviewer laughs. 

Regardless, that scene was just breathtaking. Kudos to the both of you, and everyone who has worked on the show. It seems like your hard work really paid off. 

Y: I hope so. 

Thank you both for taking the time to speak with me today. It was nice to meet you, and best of luck in your future projects. 

Y: Thanks! It was nice to meet you too. 

H: Thank you. It was a pleasure.]

_____________

Ah. The airport. Your least favorite place. It always feels like you shouldn’t be able to complain—not with the way you get private security checks to accompany your status as an actor. But still, the airport is the airport—crowds are the norm. And when you’re with Hannibal, the two of you always seem to draw wandering eyes. While you’re usually happy to know that Breaking Apart is getting the recognition you feel it deserves, you’re running on too little sleep and energy today. Not to mention, you’re not exactly looking your best. You’re wearing a simple sweatshirt and sweatpants with sneakers; a face mask covering the bottom half of your face and headphones resting on your ears. 

Hannibal, on the other hand, looks like some sort of business god. He’s wearing a cardigan and slacks; his hair is perfectly styled, as always. He has a patient smile on his face as he nods at fans. 

You feel like you’re a decomposing corpse next to him. And maybe you are. It feels like you’re decaying, at this point. 

To make matters worse, Hannibal doesn’t even seem to care—hell, he has a hand on your upper arm as he guides you through the hall—your bodyguards ensuring no fans get too close. When you finally make it to your gate, you feel like melting into a puddle on the ground. It doesn’t help that you can feel people looking at you. You sigh and lean to rest your forehead on Hannibal’s shoulder for a selfish moment. 

Hannibal (unbothered by the physical contact) Tired?

You Yeah. 

Your vision briefly turns grainy when you tilt your head back up too fast. 

You?

Hannibal (diplomatically) A bit. 

You You don’t look it. (muttering darkly) Lucky.

Hannibal You do look tired. It’s endearing.

You (scoffing defensively) Shut up.

You try to look annoyed, but you suspect it doesn’t work, because Hannibal just lets out an amused exhale. 

And also, you’re welcome.

Hannibal (with a hum) Why should I be grateful? 

You Well, I look like a zombie next to you, which makes you look marginally better. So, y’know, you’re welcome. Seriously, why are you wearing formal clothes?” 

Hannibal (correcting you smoothly) You do not look like a zombie, nor would I keep you around for such a foolish and incorrect notion.

He’s staring at you like you’re crazy. You nearly forget what you were even talking about. Your head feels a bit fuzzy, and you’re anxious for the flight. 

You (somewhat speechless) Oh. 

Hannibal As for my clothing, this is what I always wear.

You (teasingly) You don’t have sweatpants, huh? 

Hannibal (with a slight smile) Of course not.

You (jokingly) Of course not; how plebian.

Hannibal rolls his eyes. 

INT. – The first-class section of the airplane. 

You’ve since taken your face mask off and settled into your seat next to Hannibal on the plane. Fortunately, since the two of you are in first class, you only have to share space with each other. It’s relatively quiet now that all of the passengers have boarded. 

The plane starts to take off, and your hand is moving to grasp Hannibal’s before you can contemplate the consequences. Fortunately, he only squeezes your hand reassuringly—evidently unbothered by the sudden physical contact. Though he does seem to frown for a moment.

Hannibal You’re freezing. 

His thumb glides across your knuckles and you try to fight off a shiver.

You I run cold. 

Hannibal doesn’t seem satisfied by this explanation and presses a hand to your forehead. Then he withdraws with a hum. 

See? Told you.

For a while, the flight is fine. You read the book you brought, you try to watch some TV episodes you downloaded before the flight. But it’s only so long before the decongestant you took starts to wear off, and the pressure migraine begins. You eat the protein bar you packed and take some ibuprofen, but you know it’s going to take some time to kick in. And right now, your head is practically pulsing. You can feel your jaw aching, bolts of pain sliding through your teeth. 

Something about your behavior must give your symptoms away, because Hannibal is staring. You’re practically sideways in your seat now, back awkwardly draped against the wall near the window. Trying to get comfortable is absolutely impossible. Absolutely impossible. 

You’re certain you’d keep rustling around, if not for Hannibal’s gentle hand on your shoulder. His hand finds the nape of your neck, until he’s guiding you to rest your head against his shoulder. You blink and go with the gesture, surprised by how comfortable it is. 

You Thanks.

Sorry. You’re— You’re fine with this, right?

Hannibal (shamelessly) Absolutely.

The fondness in his voice pierces through the fatigue and exhaustion settling over you. 

You’ll have to talk about that later. But right now, you’re close to nodding off. 

You Okay. If you change your mind— 

Hannibal I’m not changing my mind, sweetheart. 

In fact, he only brings you closer, a hand on your waist as he guides you to rest against him. 

You Sweetheart? That’s new. 

Not to mention, Hannibal has never been a particularly physical person. You’ve always been careful to respect his space and keep your distance. Until now.

Hannibal looks at you. He’s been looking at you a lot recently. Somehow, you’re only realizing that right now. 

Hannibal It doesn’t have to be. 

And you have absolutely no rebuttal for that, so you don’t bother arguing. Instead, you just lean closer and allow your eyes to slip shut—resolving yourself to think about it when you wake. And if there’s a smile teasing your lips, well… he’s the only one to see it.

©2026, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don’t steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

endnotes: I just really needed to get this 43 page monster out of my drafts, it’s been cramping my style. Lol.

Writing Hannibal in these modern aus is always such a struggle… Because I want to keep him in character without making him too prickly or closed-off… I hope I threaded that line well here. 

my aroace ass: is one pet name at the very end still too much...

lol anyways, thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

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But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Hannibal was nothing if not a man who craved complexity, and you, with your simple yet peculiar habit of biting, had an allure that he could never fully comprehend. He wasn’t sure when the lines had blurred, when you had shifted from being someone he wanted to understand to someone he wanted to possess.

Will, on the other hand, was less of a mystery. He found your unspoken understanding of him soothing. Will was not a man who found comfort easily. He’d had too many years of running from his own mind, of balancing between the need for human connection and the heavy weight of his empathic gift. But you were different. You never demanded anything from him. There was no need to over explain; no fear of rejection. You were there, and that was enough.

The three of them had fallen into a relationship that no one, especially not Alana Bloom or Jack Crawford, could understand. Jack, upset that you had a greater control over his 'asset' perceived you as a problem that needed to be extinguished immediately. While he couldn't force Will to break up with you, he began to use manipulative language more frequently, hinting that Will's absence was endangering the lives of people.

But after a while, his words began to lose power.

"Will, you can’t just leave because he told you to," Jack would say, his voice thick with frustration. "We need you to solve this case. You're part of this team." But Will, unmoved, always told him he was tired and needed a break. As if killers would respect that and stop murdering until he felt better. Jack would then begin to retort how soft Will was becoming, as if that ever mattered when others perceived him as a madman.

Alana, on the other hand, was driven by something more personal. Jealousy. She had been drawn to both Hannibal and Will. Her feelings for them had never been simple or easy, but she had always harbored a belief that somehow, one day, they would choose her. Instead, they had chosen you.

The idea of you, with your gentle biting habit, managing to capture the attention of both men was enough to make her skin crawl with resentment. How could someone so abnormal and clearly dealing with childhood trauma have the audacity to step into their world and steal them away from her?

She couldn’t help but feel that you didn’t deserve them. You weren't like her. You didn’t understand the complexities of their lives nor seemed to be able to handle the hurdles that came with it. And so, she set to work.

It started subtly. A conversation here, a comment there.

“Don’t you ever feel like you’re a little strange?” she would ask, voice light, as if it were a passing thought. “I mean, the biting. It's something you can't help, but don't you ever want to stop it? Be seen as normal for once in your life?"

At first, you had laughed it off, thinking nothing of it. But over time, the seeds of doubt were planted. You began to wonder. Was your habit of biting things wrong? Your lovers had never raised concerns, but it would be something they'll definitely keep private, perhaps a secret only shared between them both. You never thought that Alana's words were connived to break your relationship apart. Your naivety was something the woman had taken into account and used to her advantage.

So, you tried to stop.

You started small. You tucked your hands into your sleeves when your instincts told you to gnaw at the fabric, and you opted for straws instead of biting the rim of a glass cup. You made an effort, any effort, to keep your teeth away from Will and Hannibal’s skin, no matter how comforting that gentle pressure felt against them.

At first, neither man noticed. After all, it was easy to dismiss the abnormal behavior as a passing mood or an unremarkable change in routine. But after a couple of days, they grew concerned.

Will began to see you catch yourself mid motion, your hand halfway to your mouth before you stopped and pressed it flat against your chest instead. Hannibal noticed the anxious flicker in your eyes whenever you realized you were about to bite down on his fingers and yanked yourself away.

It was Will who first chose to address it. One evening, you were curled up in his living room, dogs scattered around you like living blankets. The space was quiet, the only sound the gentle snoring of a dog and the low hum of the overhead light. You were running your thumb over your bottom lip, an almost-bite, when Will finally spoke.

“Hey, what’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

He studied you with those empathetic eyes of his. You knew he was reading more into your silence, but Will was nothing if not patient. “You’ve been distant,” he finally ventured, words slow and careful. “I don’t mind if you need space, but if something’s bothering you, I want to help.”

The sincerity in his voice tore at your heart. You wanted to confide in him, to say Alana made me feel wrong, and I don’t want to be wrong for you, but the fear of seeming weak or needy held you back. You simply shook your head and offered a reassuring pat to one of the dogs resting on your lap. “I’m fine,” you lied, hoping he wouldn’t push. “Just tired.”

Though both men tried to give you space, their combined worry spilled over as time went on. Neither was used to seeing you so guarded, especially around them. On a chilly afternoon, the three of you gathered in Hannibal’s study, a routine that had become something of a tradition. Will sipped his whiskey while Hannibal and you browsed through his impressive collection of classical music. There was an air of comfort, and for a brief moment, your doubts dimmed.

But of course, it was Will who noticed your jaw moving, saw the slight shift as your teeth worked the soft flesh inside your cheek. He placed his whiskey glass down on the table with a muted clink before pushing himself out of the chair.

“Stop,” he crossed the room with purpose. Without hesitating, Will brought his hand to your chin. “Open your mouth.”

You stiffened, instinctively pulling away. You shook your head, trying to avert your gaze from Will’s intense blue eyes. You didn’t want to show him. You didn’t want him to see the damage you’d done to keep from biting them instead. But then, Hannibal appeared at Will’s side, his presence commanding. He didn’t say a word, but the look he gave you, equal parts concern and disappointment, made your shoulders slump in silent surrender.

Unable to deny the weight of their worry, you parted your lips, letting Will tilt your chin just enough so both he and Hannibal could peer inside.

A faint gasp escaped Will as he saw the small puncture in your cheek, the fresh bead of crimson welling against your lower molars. Hannibal’s lips flattened into a thin line, and a flicker of displeasure darkened his gaze. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small wound, but it spoke volumes to them. Volumes about how you had been coping alone.

Hannibal’s voice was low, edged with concern. “You’ve been hurting yourself to avoid biting us.” It wasn’t a question. It was a quiet statement of fact.

Will let go of your chin carefully. “Why?”

You swallowed thickly, your hand hovering near your mouth in a subconscious attempt to hide the injury you’d just revealed. “Alana said it’s weird. The biting. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

Hannibal and Will exchanged a look, a silent conversation filled with understanding and mild anger toward Alana’s interference. Will’s gaze softened as he turned back to you. “We told you before that you don’t have to hide this from us. You’re not hurting us—”

“—nor inconveniencing us.” Hannibal interrupted, stepping closer. The resolute calm in his eyes steadied you. “In fact, we’ve grown quite accustomed, and dare I say, fond of it. Your habit is part of who you are.”

You glanced down, feeling the sting of tears threatening in your eyes. “I just…I didn’t want you to get sick of me or to think I was some sort of burden.”

Will’s hand found yours, his fingers threading through with a gentle squeeze. “That’s not possible. We miss it…miss you being comfortable around us.”

Hannibal placed a hand against your cheek, being mindful of your tender injury. “You never need to hurt yourself on our behalf. Any pain you feel, physical or otherwise, we’d much rather help you carry it, not watch you bury it inside.”