hannibal: “I am writing to inform you, you are approximately 30 minutes late for your appointment.

Whatever has gained your attention, please let it know you have an appointment.

I look forward to seeing you.”

- Dr. Hannibal Lecter

you: "I am writing back to inform you, I am stuck in traffic.

This city blows at night.

Please do not tell me about texting and driving, I am currently stopped at a red light.”

- Y/N L/N

i’d be the one to start off like this: “Hannibal Lecter. The Hannibal Lecter at my door.” Yeah, my door. As in, why are you here? At my home? What do you want? Need? Why am I questioning your existence? Yes. That’s the point.

I don’t want a romcom. I don’t need a romcom. I need someone who can keep up with tension. Actual tension. He is a psychiatrist. He, as a manipulative psychiatrist, would love the psychological pull more than someone being attracted to his identity. That’s my take.

I am someone who lacks control in many ways. That way would be my thinking process. I don’t spiral normally. I spiral analytically. And who would enjoy that? Hannibal the Cannibal.

By God, someone give me that enjoyment. Or that man. I would fight that man. I, as a female, would manhandle that man. thank you for your time <3

Prologue + Chapter 1: Here

Chapter 2: Here

Chapter 3: Here

Chapter 4 Hannibal’s POV + Chapter 5: Here

I walked out of my door. My home.

I wasn’t sure where I was headed. I just walked.

I didn’t want to drive. Didn’t want the noise of the car. I wanted the cold air against my face, the silence of the wind.

It was… profound. The air, the smell of it, the taste of it. It lingered. It stayed.

I didn’t like that it stayed.

Even the air felt familiar.

It felt like him.

The doctor.

Maybe I should’ve taken the car. The drive.

I continued down the sidewalk, then took a sharp right turn. So sharp it made me stop. Made me realize.

I wasn’t following the air.

I was following a scent.

A profound one. Something like elegance and mercy, wrapped together in a way that didn’t belong in the same place.

That’s when I saw him.

Standing on the other side of the sidewalk.

He was helping someone. I couldn’t see who. I didn’t care.

All I could see was a small smile. Barely there, the slightest hint of teeth.

He knew I was there. I could tell.

He knew I was watching from across the street.

I was out of his reach.

And somehow, I think he liked that.

He continued helping the stranger, never looking up at me once.

The smile was gone now.

He looked… different.

Not softened. Not exposed. Something else.

Something I couldn’t name.

Guarded, maybe. Controlled in a way that felt more deliberate than before.

As if being seen like this. Just helping, just existing was something he didn’t intend for me to witness.

Odd. The doctor was embarrassed.

I could have interrupted it. I could have broken it.

I didn’t.

I wanted to watch. Observe.

Not to overwhelm him, but to understand something about him I hadn’t been given before.

Humanity.

From someone who had offered me none.

It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel bad.

It felt… like being seen.

And I didn’t know what to do with that.

Connections I couldn’t maintain.

I didn’t hate it. But I didn’t like it either.

That’s when he called out.

“Y/N.”

His voice cut through it. Quiet. Precise

Now he was fully aware of me.

The civilian was gone. I didn’t even notice them leave. I was too focused on him.

On the moment.

“It is not polite to stare,” he said, “let alone observe such a moment.”

Prologue + Chapter 1: Here

Chapter 2: Here

Chapter 3: Here

She respected the silence.

Nobody respects the silence. They play the game, they abide by its rules.

She was different. Too different.

She was going to be a problem, though not one I wanted to eliminate. No. She was a problem I wanted to continue to observe. To understand.

She was… interesting. Too interesting. That, in itself, was the issue.

Never in my life have I encountered someone who treats silence as something deliberate. Not absence. Not hesitation. Something chosen.

It almost felt like she was respecting me. Or perhaps the space between us. Perhaps even herself.

That’s… admirable. The way she does things is admirable.

But she doesn’t understand what she’s stepping into. Not with me.

She should have remained within that silence. Within the structure of it. Within what it becomes in my presence.

Now she occupies my thoughts. Not loudly. Not intrusively.

Persistently.

And I find I have no intention of allowing that to continue so easily. Not from someone like her.

Not even from myself.

-Chapter 5-

He left just like that.

He didn’t like that I stayed silent. He wanted the game. Or perhaps he was simply used to it. I gave him something else entirely.

Silence.

He said it himself.

The pleasure of silence.

Which I now realize was a test.

He didn’t want silence.

He wanted the noise.

The noise would be unbearable.

So why would he want it?

That’s… interesting.

The doctor wanted the noise. The doctor who seemed to thrive on control and power wanted chaos and destruction.

It would be formidable if it wasn’t so… contradictory.

It doesn’t make sense.

He can’t thrive on control and power while craving chaos and destruction.

Can he?

That contradiction is exactly what had me pacing back and forth through my own home. My own living room.

A place where chaos was controlled.

And yet, there I was. Pacing around like some…

Some…

I stop.

“Some freak who can’t figure something out.”

The words leave my mouth louder than intended. Too loud.

Worse, I say them as though someone is listening.

Watching.

Watching from somewhere beyond the walls.

He couldn’t be watching.

He just left.

Didn’t he?

I shouldn’t have asked myself that.

That’s when I heard it.

Not tap. Tap. Tap.

More like-

Click. Click. Click.

Brief.

Sharp.

Gone before I could fully process it.

It doesn’t happen again.

I wait.

Then I turn toward the window.

Nothing.

No one.

I walk toward it anyway, slowly approaching the glass. I peer outside, my eyes scanning the street, the sidewalk, the darkness beyond it.

Nothing.

Not a single person in sight.

That’s when I grab my keys.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I couldn’t stay here.

I couldn’t stay in my own home.

Everything felt like a threat.

Like someone was going to hurt me.

Or worse.

Perceive me.

Prologue + Chapter 1: Here

Chapter 2: Here

“The pleasure of silence, Y/N.”

He says my name calmly. Like it’s something he’s known for a while.

The pleasure of silence.

It almost makes me smile. Not a kind one. Something sharper. A subtle threat, wrapped in elegance and precision. I don’t stop it. The corner of my lips lifts.

Too controlled. Or not controlled enough.

I turn to face him fully, still standing by the door.

“Silence.” I repeat the word, letting it sit. “I’d say silence is necessary.”

My words are deliberate. Almost obscene.

He pauses.

Just for a moment.

Like he didn’t expect that. Like he expected something else entirely.

He doesn’t respond right away. He considers it. Considers me.

I can’t tell if he’s irritated, intrigued, or something worse.

But the tension shifts.

The room feels… breathable.

Like we could both exhale.

We don’t.

We let the silence sit.

Too comfortable.

Which makes it worse.

“A player who respects the silence is not a player at all.”

His voice is calm. Controlled.

“She is… an opponent.”

He glances toward the door, a faint smile forming. Not cold. Not calculated.

Something else.

Something worse.

“Y/N…”

My name sits differently this time. Lower. Sharper.

“Opponents don’t try to win or lose. They keep it going.”

A pause.

“And that is far more dangerous than the game itself.”

He hums softly, tilting his head before stepping toward the door.

His hand settles on the doorknob.

He doesn’t open it.

Not yet.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of, Y/N.”

Calm. Precise.

“I suggest you learn what”

A slight pause.

“or who you’re dealing with.”

That’s it.

He turns the knob.

Leaves.

Closing the door quietly behind him.

mads: "did you want an autograph or..?'

you: "oh uh, perhaps? i just... uh."

mads: "right."

Prologue + Chapter 1: Here

The fact that he waited.

He waited for me to come to the door.

He knew I would. Otherwise, he would’ve knocked more than once.

Fuck. That was infuriating.

It pissed me off. He pissed me off.

And the worst part?

I knew exactly who this man was.

The city’s most renowned psychiatrist. You didn’t even have to be a patient of his to know him. You just… did.

So why was he here?

Why was he at my door?

What did he want?

I took a slow breath, exhaling with careful precision before I spoke.

“Dr. Lecter. To what do I owe the pleasure of you at my doorstep?”

My voice was calm. Collected.

But beneath it? Something else entirely.

He smiled.

He fucking smiled.

Not a typical smile. One that spoke volumes. Cold. Calculated

He didn’t answer my question. Not yet. Not now.

Instead, he asked, “May I come in?”

His voice was low. Dangerous.

But still… perfect. Still precise.

I didn’t answer immediately.

I stepped back from the door, moving aside, gesturing toward the office.

“Certainly. You came all this way. It would be a shame to turn you away.”

My voice was soft. Too soft.

Not kind.

Just… barely holding.

He gave a small, deliberate nod before stepping inside.

I shut the door behind him.

I didn’t face him. Not fully.

I could already feel his eyes on me.

Piercing.

It felt like a warning. A deliberate one.

Like he already knew I could peel back every layer he had.

Maybe I could.

Maybe I wanted to.

Maybe a part of me didn’t.

He didn’t move.

He just stood there.

Too still.

“You asked what you owe the pleasure of me standing at your doorstep,” he said.

His voice wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either.

Somewhere in between.

Polite.

Measured.

Danger, wrapped in courtesy.

He wasn’t turning this into a game.

He was turning it into an observation.

A lesson.

I stayed silent, still not fully facing him, listening.

It was a cold night in Baltimore, Maryland. The wind was strong. Strong enough that the bare trees tapped against your window. You sat in your office, bundled up, knees pulled to your chest as you blew on your coffee.

You set the mug down without taking a sip.

Straightening your legs, you reached for your mouse. Your finger hovered over the button when a knock sounded at the door.

That was… odd.

You weren’t expecting company. Not this late. Not at this hour.

— Chapter 1 —

I look over at the door, my finger still hovering over the mouse.

I don’t get up immediately. I let them wait.

But that’s the thing, they don’t mind waiting. If they did, they would’ve knocked again.

They didn’t.

They stayed silent.

And that silence? It wasn’t scary. It was… frustrating.

I push my chair back from the desk, slowly getting up. I walk toward the door, approaching it carefully.

When I finally reach it, I look down at the doorknob.

I don’t reach for it. Not immediately. I couldn’t… or maybe something in me was telling me I shouldn’t.

My hand lifts, hovering over the knob before finally settling on it. I turn it slowly, like everything else I’ve been doing.

I open the door.

I look up.

And there he is.

Standing there. Waiting.

Like he knew I’d be here.

Like he knew exactly what he wanted.

their dynamic is meant to be manipulative and toxic, yes. but let me say this, will graham absolutely needed saving. if people just listened, he wouldn’t have gotten consumed by hannibal to begin with. i understand that it’s not mean to be “real love” or some tender relationship. i am also aware that their relationship is something to be interpreted. some might see it as love, some might not. i do not. let me ask this, did will graham truly mean it when he said and i quote, “it’s beautiful?” or was that just the outcome of hannibal? does will graham truly understand hannibal as much as we think? i want to say it’s a 50/50. yes and… no? i suppose if anything, i shifted interpretations. but here’s the true “problem,” i don’t like them as a whole, i like them as well… one. i think. tbh me, myself and i, i don’t fully know. 😭

hannibal: “what did you have for dinner?”

you: “filet mignon.”

hannibal: “filet mignon? interesting choice. a choice i’d enjoy if it wasn’t so… delicate.”

you: “i literally just said filet mignon.”

hannibal: “and? filet mignon is like i said, delicate.”

you: “i’m going to show you delicate.”

hannibal: “exactly my point.”

you: “i know you didn’t just compare me to filet mignon.”

hannibal: “i did.”