Fannibalmesian

Will sees in those eyes, the pain of a broken man. His compassion for Hannibal is an inconvenience, and the caress against his cheek a sweet distruction.

Will lays his hand over Hannibal's hidden one, the one gripping the knife.

"Hannibal, kiss me first."

He goes still, both at Will's touch and at the request.

A long moment of silence passes.

"Abigail, turn around for a moment."

He glances at her without taking his hand off Will's face, and she obeys, granting them a brief moment of privacy.

Then his gaze returns to Will's, and they drown in each other's eyes.

"I never wanted it to happen like this."

"I know."

Hannibal lets out a quiet sigh. With one hand, he gently draws Will's face closer, and their lips finally meet.

The kiss begins slowly, savoring a moment they have waited far too long for and the taste is sweet like honey, before deepening, growing richer, more consuming and tasting like blood.

Will's free hand comes to rest on Hannibal's shoulder, gripping tightly as he leans into him. Hannibal's hand slides from Will's cheek into his curls, holding him close in return as the kiss changes. They are no longer merely kissing, they are two men reaching for each other with the desperation of a goodbye, with the passion of something destined to be torn away from them.

It is paradise opening its gates just before the doors of hell.

It is a longed-for desire finally fulfilled, only to be paid for in flesh and blood.

As the kiss comes to an end, they break apart slowly. A bitter note lingers between their lips now, inevitable and inescapable.

Will's hand slips away at the same moment Hannibal's returns to cradle his face.

Their eyes meet one last time, still burning with love and despair

Will stay still and not move to gun. He accept his punishment

Then the blade sinks into his body.

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I wrote this little ficlet out of nowhere and I'm kind of like 🥺 sorry not sorry. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Will had always found balls and galas tedious, yet there he was, practically dragged along by his fiancée, Molly.

He watched her from a distance as she chatted with someone; understanding as she was, she allowed Will the space to isolate himself, sparing him from participating too deeply in the social chatter.

He possessed everything a man in his position could ever desire: a respectable job, and a decent fiancée for whom he harbored a sincere affection.

​And yet, there was something that kept him awake at night, filling his thoughts during the quiet hours. A visceral hunger, an immense yearning that consumed his very being, shrouded his soul, and left him sighing for desires he could not name. It was an elusive ache, a lack he couldn't comprehend, born of a feeling so vast it threatened to entirely consume his heart in a way he had never experienced in this life.

By day, Will ignored those sensations, throwing himself into his work, doing exactly what society expected of him... but the solitary nights were loud.

​Suddenly, he felt a different kind of gaze upon him. He spotted a man, his hair tied back in a queue, standing in the shadows of the ballroom—yet possessing such majesty that the candlelight seemed to die out just to gravitate toward him.

But it was the man's eyes that struck him: amber and gold, burning right through him. Will felt a sudden jolt shiver down his spine as that hunger seized him without warning.

​As the man approached, Will tracked his movements with rapt attention. I know you. I know you, he thought.

​He stopped a mere breath away from Will, the emotion tightening his throat masked behind a polite, half-smile, while his eyes burned with an ancient, absolute devotion.

​"This ballroom is decidedly too crowded for two souls who seem to seek the quiet," the man murmured, his voice a low vibration, a whisper intended for Will's ears alone. "Would you grant me the honor of this dance?"

​When Will took his hand, his own eyes flashed with a sudden light of recognition, meeting Hannibal's gaze of raw devotion. It was something utterly incomprehensible to Will's mind, yet inside him, his thoughts continued to whisper, It’s you, it’s you.

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This scene is inspired by the ballroom scene from NBC’s Dracula

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Other gifs

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Enjoy 🍷 😊

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Finally, they were kissing.

Their lips had finally met after months of teasing each other, desiring each other, craving each other with relentless hunger.

But just as the kiss, slow at first, began to deepen, Hannibal pulled away from him with deliberate slowness.

“Hannibal?” Will frowned, searching for his gaze, though the other man refused to meet it.

“Give me a moment.”

His reply came strained, nearly broken apart by uneven breaths, and then Will realized what was happening. He watched him breathe too quickly, trying to regain control over himself.

He empathized with him completely; he could feel that loss of control in a man so unaccustomed to surrendering it, especially when that the kiss had become deeper, more consuming.

Hannibal was having an overwhelm meltdown.

“Hannibal,” he called more softly this time, and now Hannibal looked at him. It was rare to see that unfocused, confused look in his eyes.

Will smiled at him. He squeezed his hand tightly, touch had always helped ground him.

“Does this help, or is it too much?”

He slowed his own breathing, offering him the support he needed.

Hannibal didn’t answer, but he squeezed his hand back, and that was answer enough.

“Come with me.”

Will guided him to the couch and sat him down, staying close beside him without letting go of his hand.

Hannibal closed his eyes, steadying his breathing.

“You control them,” he commented between deep breaths.

“Years of experience, mon cœur.”

Will kept breathing slowly with him, never leaving him for even a second, attentive to every reaction.

“I’m here. Let yourself go.”

Hannibal opened his eyes and rested his head against Will’s shoulder. Will placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him closer while continuing those slow, deep breaths for him.

It took time before Hannibal’s breathing returned to normal, and when it finally did, Will felt those amber eyes on him. He met the gaze immediately. It was thick with affection, the kind that tightened painfully around his heart.

“Hey.”

Hannibal rubbed his nose against Will’s shoulder before moving to his neck, pressing soft kisses there, then trailing upward beneath his jaw until Will let out a quiet sigh.

When he finally reached his face again, he paused, and their eyes met once more.

“Earlier, you called me something, Will.”

Will smiled, leaned even closer until their lips barely brushed.

“Mon cœur,” he whispered against his mouth.

He saw the effect it had immediately: Hannibal’s pupils widened, his breath catching for a few suspended seconds.

And then Hannibal kissed him again.

This time, he managed to lose himself in it completely, a deep, fervent kiss filled with passion and quiet moans, exactly as they had both wanted.

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I just love the hc Will speaks french ahah

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