First Chapter Of My Amnesiac Hannibal Wip Is Up!

Hannibal dealing with mutism and a broken ankle and a sprained wrist post-fall. He hasn’t had control over what he eats in three years and now he has to depend on Will for each meal because he can barely hobble across the room without being scolded. He hasn’t felt this helpless since he was a child. At first, he barely has an appetite, but then after a few weeks of rest and recovery, he wakes up feeling ravenous. Normally, the portions Will has been providing are enough. But not today. He doesn’t want to be greedy because what if they run out of food and it’s all his fault? He can’t stand the thought of Will going hungry like his sister. Especially if it’s due to him. Every time his stomach churns with hunger, he feels more and more like the starving child he used to be. Forced to go to bed with an empty stomach because the other orphans would steal his food.

Today, Will brings in a steaming bowl of stew. Hannibal’s heart plummets.

He hasn’t eaten stew in four decades. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to keep it down. But he can’t refuse either. Not when Will worked so hard to make this. Not when he’s so hungry. He wants to feed himself because at least he’ll regain control over one aspect of his life and he knows Will must be tired. Will sighs in frustration. Bats his un-injured hand away from the steaming bowl—and that sets Hannibal off. Awakens a dormant fear in the nervous beat of his heart. Because Will could take it away, if struck with the urge. Just like the nasty men who teased him with food (purposely placed just out of reach) and snatched away morsels before he had a chance to even think of taking a bite. For the first time in weeks he utters an involuntary sound: a hoarse, desperate whimper.

Will can sense something isn’t quite right. He can sense the brewing panic warring inside Hannibal’s flitting gaze and rapidly rising chest. He realizes Hannibal isn’t just being defiant—intent on pushing his buttons. He softens his voice to a soothing timber and raises the spoon to Hannibal’s clenched mouth. “This ain’t going anywhere, cher.” He watches the harsh tremble of Hannibal’s jaw as it unclenches with a mixture of reluctance and relief. How a pair of wobbling lips clamp down around the spoon with desperation as if afraid to release.

Will watches Hannibal savor that first bite, suckling every drop as if it’s his very last. Will praises him with each spoonful. Wipes away the silent tears scattered across his cheeks. Presses a kiss to his forehead when his breathing becomes shaky with the beginnings of a weak, tearful hiccup. It heals something inside of him. Until he feels the weight of a chunk of hot meat resting on his tongue. Will comforts him through a moment of panic—making sure not to feed him any chunks of meat—only broth and vegetables. His stomach is still growling even though the bowl is nearly empty. He’s too hesitant to ask for a second serving. Due to the literal physical inability to speak and the emotional turmoil.

“Are you still hungry, cher?” Will asks.

Hannibal’s resolve crumbles.

*sees a mutual in my dash* i love you 🥺🫶 *sees a different mutual in my dash* i love you 🥺🫶 *sees yet another mutual in my dash* i love you 🥺🫶

making a tiktok account for my hannibal headcanons and vulnerable hannibal rec list and rambles <3 i woke up from a nap and it came to me like a vision.

so real. so real. ilysm for sharing this revelation. as always i'm giving you a long standing ovation like the celebs do at the cannes festival ♡

i truly believe [i came up with this thought 30 seconds ago] that all of Hannibal's shenanigans and bullshit can be classified under "Bitchy Bottom Behavior."

i will not be explaining further, thank you.

I stayed up late to read the new chapter and it was so worth it! I wasn’t sure how to post a gif in the AO3 comment section—but this was literally me after reading:

Hannibal’s breath hitched, and a desperate, almost pleading expression crossed his face as a faint, stuttering whisper escaped him, “I–I need…”

Will silenced him with a tender yet commanding touch, his hands cupping Hannibal’s face. He brushed his thumb over Hannibal’s trembling lips, feeling the warmth and the slight moisture of his breath. “Pants off, darlin’,” he instructed, his tone brooking no argument.

I love that moment so much 🥺

chapter 13 is up!

i hope y'all enjoy and would love to know what y'all think – felt like i was truly fighting for my life with parts of this chapter lolol

Will chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through the small space between them. “Well, if it makes you feel better,” he said, his tone light, “I suppose I can tolerate being carried around like a damsel in distress.” Hannibal’s smile widened a small amount. “You, my dear Will, are far from a damsel in distress. But I do appreciate your cooperation.”

i agree with this 100%. my housewife hannibal sequel was scraped by that damn AI scraper / whatever the fuck you call it. i am so sad because i worked so hard on the newest chapter. i poured 3 months of dedication and love and joy into that new chapter, and to have it (and some of my other fics) be used for AI training (some soul-less machine) is not a good feeling at all. i'm sorry to all my lovely guest readers, but i will be locking all my fics so only registered users can access them, because fuck AI.

After the recent scrape of Ao3 I feel like now is a good time to say a few things

Authors: Limit your works to registered users only, you are going to see a drop in activity which is going to suck a lot but it's 10x better than having your work stolen and used to train AI. Please take care of your precious work

Readers: If you aren't registered, it's to get registered. You've probably been lurking on ao3 for at least a little while, and if you want to be able to properly interact with your favourite works then the best thing to do is get registered. This way authors can feel supported and you can still interact with your favourite works. It's important the authors and readers help each other out here

Registered Readers: It is important, now more than ever, that you comment and kudos on works that you enjoy. Even it was just one line. Hit that fucking kudos button. And never ever be afraid to comment on fics. You have no idea how overjoyed authors are to get even a single emoji for a comment. And if you have more to say, please say it. it means so much to the authors

AI "writers": Go fuck yourself

Good luck to the writers and thanks in advance to the unregistered readers

Will being reminded time and time again Hannibal is only human post-fall. This turned into word vomit because I just typed to my little heart's content so the ending is a bit rushed lol. It ain't a formal fic. Just a little post-fall blurb.

They're standing underneath the shower head, warm water trickling down. Will is holding Hannibal by the waist--keeping his weak body steady and upright--because Hannibal is unbalanced due to a high dosage of pain medication. It's Hannibal's first shower after the stitches from his healing gunshot wound were removed. There's only a shower in this motel room--not a bathtub. Will knows Hannibal's been dying to bathe properly for weeks instead of the unsatisfying sponge baths.

Hannibal is washing shampoo through each gray strand, removing built up grease from his scalp when every finger steadily begins to slow and comes to a complete halt. Will is worried something's wrong--maybe Hannibal strained something while raising both hands over his head. Hannibal is barely breathing. Will leans in and peers over Hannibal's shoulder. Heat is creeping into Hannibal's cheeks. Hannibal's cock is half-hard and stiffening by the second.

Will is shocked--but not at all surprised. He doesn't recall having ever given Hannibal a moment of privacy besides using the toilet. He knows Hannibal is touch starved and can't be at fault for such an involuntary reaction. Fingers stroke gentle circles against Hannibal's waist. "Rinse your hair. It's gonna get in your eyes and burn like hell." He knows Hannibal's brain damaged mind needs gentle reminders on occasion--even for basic steps such as washing one's hair. He knows Hannibal is relearning mundane tasks. He knows. He is patient through it all even when it comes as a shock that Hannibal still needs reminders for everyday things--that Hannibal could forget how to perform a single task--that Hannibal depends on Will.

Hannibal's nearly finished rinsing his hair and his fingers begin to tremble and his feet slide along the shower floor as if it's becoming uncomfortable to remain still.

Will knows what needs to happen and wonders if Hannibal is waiting for permission--permission Hannibal doesn't need yet still seems to search for, even if stuck in a perpetual state of mutism. He knows Hannibal is shy in searching for guidance--that fact never ceases to shock Will. "Take care of yourself." He waits for a long stretch of time for something to happen--for Hannibal's hands to move. But they only remain curled in Hannibal's hair, shaking as much as the rest of Hannibal's body. Then, it dawns on Will.

Embarrassment is not the reason for Hannibal's refusal. He simply doesn't remember what to do or understand what Will means. It's a fine motor skill issue and an amnesia issue. Hannibal's cheek burns Will's lips where a gentle kiss is placed upon wet and flushing skin.

"It's okay if you don't remember how, darlin', I know you've been doing your best." Will's hands move from Hannibal's waist toward Hannibal's stomach. He rubs over the soft, subtle swell of Hannibal's stomach. Giving Hannibal time to adapt to skin to skin contact after enduring three long years without a single affectionate touch. He knows it feels foreign, especially because of Hannibal's brain damage and amnesia. Hannibal awoke one month ago--confused--terrified even if attempting not to show it--because Hannibal's last unfractured memories were of being in France. Dim. Faded. Not Fresh. He keeps each touch slow and gentle, allowing Hannibal's touch starved body unrushed moments to adjust.

Hannibal's untouched cock is stiff and leaking and twitching in response to every caress of Will's hands along Hannibal's stomach. Hannibal's breathing is shallow. Hannibal's eyes are clenched shut. Will understands now. Hannibal must've been a virgin at this stage in life--a killer--but never granted anyone the chance to touch. Hannibal is aching--throbbing--barely able to contain a rising whine as trembling fingers betray him, clinging to one of Will's forearms. He trusts Will and only Will. Even though it's taken a long time for Hannibal's distrust to melt away.

Will understands in all reality Hannibal is a decade older. But Hannibal's current state of mind is only 19 years old. Will wouldn't ever dare to speak such a statement under another circumstance. But this version of Hannibal is sweet in rare moments when not attempting to ward off the world beneath a stone cold exterior--one not yet perfected--one with easily discovered fractures Will is unable to ignore after knowing Hannibal for so long. He whispers the single phrase that comes to mind. Right next to Hannibal's ear. "Do you need my help, sweet boy?"

Will can tell Hannibal is trying to fight it: the shock, the trembling gasp twisting an undignified whimper threatening claw its way forth, the small and pitiful abortive thrust--pitching forward into empty air. It comes to Will easily as if a second nature buried deep and forgotten. He soothes Hannibal's breathless whimper with a kiss against a soaking wet temple. "Easy, baby, I'll take care of you," Will whispers and curls a calloused palm around Hannibal's cock. A frail and wobbling moan erupts from Hannibal's mouth--shattered and hoarse and needy. Hannibal's other hand claws at the wall for balance. Will's grasp is gentle (unyielding yet nearly lax) as Hannibal's overwhelmed body struggles to find its rhythm in wake of such a foreign sensation--of such jaw-dropping pleasure. He knows it must feel like Hannibal's first time ever approaching orgasm due to brain damage and amnesia. Hannibal's feet are damn near slipping and Will loops an arm around Hannibal's waist. "You don't have to rush. Find your pace, sweet boy."

Echoing off the tiled walls are Hannibal's whimpers and moans--thin and ruined from rusted vocal cords. Hannibal's head is tipped back and leaning against Will's shoulder. He sobs a wordless plea once Will begins taking over with a sure and steady fist--spurring long-awaited friction around Hannibal's neglected cock.

Will can barely keep Hannibal upright because of how erratic Hannibal's shifting is becoming: sharp, unpracticed thrusts desperate to meet each stroke as if this sensation is entirely new and deeply craved--and pressing back against Will's clothed cock--Will wore boxers for Hannibal's comfort. He can't resist thrusting in response, burning with a mirrored need. He knows Hannibal is close: with nails digging into skin, with nails clawing at the walls, with thighs trembling, with knees threatening to buckle, with a rising stream of needy, breathless cries cresting into the air, with each swift twist of a wrist, with each murmur of praise breathed against Hannibal's ear. Hannibal's voice cracks on each unraveling wail--strained and wet with tears of overwhelm. He knows Hannibal's cheeks are soaking in fresh tears along with water from the shower head. Hannibal's chest is heaving bright with a flush--sinking in and filling with each ragged breath. He swirls a thumb around Hannibal's nipple--and again and again--when Hannibal's pulsing cock twitches in response--when Hannibal's sobs cease to be audible in wake of a toe-curling climax.

Will guides Hannibal through those dizzying, mind numbing moments. He presses endless kisses to Hannibal's jaw and cheek and temple. He climaxes soon after, a deep moan spilling forth. He cradles Hannibal, who's trembling and gasping through the aftershocks. He guides Hannibal out of the shower and into a clean set of pajamas. He showers quickly and steps out of the bathroom.

Hannibal is staring up at Will, eyes glassy and cheeks still warmed with a blush. He tentatively reaches out. He wants to be held. Will knows.

giving you a standing ovation for this omg!!!

By the time we reach *Mizumono*, Hannibal is in agony—not just because of Will’s betrayal, but because of the profound emptiness that betrayal leaves behind. He has Will physically within his grasp, but he can’t consume him. Will has already betrayed him, and Hannibal has lost the one person who could have truly understood him.

In this moment, Hannibal chooses to starve.

This is the starvation that plagues Hannibal—he doesn’t just need to eat Will, he needs Will to give himself freely. Without that, Hannibal is left wanting, unsure of himself for the first time. For someone who prides himself on total control, Will’s rejection and betrayal leaves him in a state of hunger that can’t be easily filled by anything else. He isn’t just starving for Will’s body; he’s starving for Will’s soul, for the deep connection that he thought was within his grasp, but ultimately, Will has pulled away from him.

WAILING MY HEART OUT UGHHH YOUR MIND IS INCREDIBLE OP!! 😭

Hannibal, the Cannibal, and the Man Who Made Him Starve

Hannibal Lecter’s entire identity is built on the concept of consumption—of others, of experiences, of power. He devours not just bodies, but lives, souls, and control. It’s what makes him so terrifying: he doesn’t just kill, he consumes his victims in the most profound and intimate way possible. They become part of him, swallowed whole, stripped of their humanity and reformed into his idea of *art*. Hannibal is the **ultimate predator**, and his hunger is insatiable.

But then, Will Graham enters his life, and Hannibal finds himself faced with something he cannot consume. Will Graham isn’t a regular target. He isn’t a piece of art, nor is he someone easily twisted into Hannibal’s vision of humanity. Will is the **mirror**, the one person who sees through Hannibal completely, who resists his manipulation. Will is the exception, and he refuses to be devoured.

The Hunger Begins:-

In Season 1, Hannibal’s interest in Will is almost clinical. He observes Will’s brilliant mind, his sensitivity, his vulnerability, but never truly considers Will as a human being—he sees him more like a **specimen**, someone who could potentially be shaped, remade, or “eaten” in a different sense. He begins to teach Will, **grooming him to be his equal**, but without ever understanding that in doing so, he’s planting the seeds of his own undoing.

Hannibal, used to controlling everything around him, begins to lose that control with Will. He sees Will’s intellect, but more importantly, he sees Will’s ability to feel—to empathize, to understand emotions. Hannibal, who is all about mastering emotions, finds this fascinating, but it’s also something he can’t control. This fascination is the beginning of his hunger, and it’s a hunger that doesn’t easily satiate.

The First Taste of Loss:-

In Season 2, Hannibal’s obsession with Will grows deeper, more personal. It’s no longer just about seeing Will as an extension of his artistic project—Hannibal starts to care. He starts to want Will not just as an intellectual equal, but as someone who can understand him, someone who can *see him* for who he truly is.

But as much as Hannibal desires Will, he also underestimates him. He assumes that he can bend Will to his will—that through manipulation, gaslighting, and a constant game of cat-and-mouse, he can force Will to accept what he’s offering. This plan, however, begins to unravel when Will starts to question his own emotions, his own identity, and his connection to Hannibal. The reversal of roles becomes clear—Will begins to mirror Hannibal’s behavior, pulling Hannibal into his own psychological game.

Hannibal’s first taste of loss comes when Will betrays him. It’s not just an intellectual defeat—it’s personal. The idea that someone he loves could actively turn against him hits Hannibal in a place he’s never acknowledged: his own vulnerability. Will has not only rejected him, but he’s also gone behind his back, actively working against him. For someone like Hannibal, this is a blow to his ego, and the consequences of this loss are more profound than just losing Will.

Self-Denial: The Starvation:-

By the time we reach *Mizumono*, Hannibal is in agony—not just because of Will’s betrayal, but because of the profound emptiness that betrayal leaves behind. He has Will physically within his grasp, but he can’t consume him. Will has already betrayed him, and Hannibal has lost the one person who could have truly understood him.

In this moment, Hannibal chooses to starve.

He doesn’t eat.

He doesn’t kill Will.

And it’s not because he doesn’t want to—Hannibal has never avoided a kill. He’s never been afraid to

The Paradox of Hunger: Control vs. Surrender:-

Hannibal’s relationship with hunger and consumption in relation to Will becomes a paradox. On one hand, he wants to devour Will, to make him his own —to consume him wholly, both mentally and physically. But on the other hand, he wants Will to choose him. He wants Will to surrender, to fall into his arms, to see the world through Hannibal's eyes. He needs Will’s choice, not his subjugation.

This is the starvation that plagues Hannibal—he doesn’t just need to eat Will, he needs Will to give himself freely. Without that, Hannibal is left wanting, unsure of himself for the first time. For someone who prides himself on total control, Will’s rejection and betrayal leaves him in a state of hunger that can’t be easily filled by anything else. He isn’t just starving for Will’s body; he’s starving for Will’s soul, for the deep connection that he thought was within his grasp, but ultimately, Will has pulled away from him.

Final Thoughts: The Longing Never Ends:-

By the end of Mizumono, Hannibal's choice not to kill Will—or, even more telling, to let Will survive his betrayal—marks the culmination of his hunger. He doesn’t just want Will because he’s interesting or because he’s a challenge. No, Will becomes the one thing Hannibal cannot control, the one person who has the power to reject him completely. And that in itself becomes Hannibal’s addiction.

Hannibal doesn’t just eat people—he remakes them. But with Will, he finds himself starved, powerless, and completely consumed by his desire to have Will choose him.

The man who devours lives finds himself starving for the one person who refuses to be consumed—and for Hannibal, that’s the most excruciating fate of all.

lord keep and protect me from ever becoming a fandom mean girl

Hannibal would definitely be a paramore girly pop.

careful? all i wanted? monster? i caught myself? that's what you get? brick by boring brick? misery business? decode? the only exception? ignorance? ain't it fun?

all on repeat.

misery business would definitely match Hannibal's post-season 3 mindset.

"i watched his wildest dreams come true. not one of them involving you."

those lyrics would speak to him without a doubt. tie it in with the guitar solo? he'd forget opera music existed so fast.

edit: adding an honorable mention for "still into you." @serri-i. i agree wholeheartedly. that song would change the chemicals in Hannibal's brain