Slaughtered Lambs

Slaughtered Lambs

Hannibal x reader

Word count: 1005

Hannibal knew his wife wasn’t normal. Even when he first met her, under the bunny facade that she put on he knew something darker lay underneath. Even in the mundane things that his wife did Hannibal found a scent of darkness. He looked at her, sitting beside him, engulfed in a huge blanket making her look like a burrito. Sometimes Hannibal wondered if it was his own imagination that tricked him into believing that something much more sinister lay beneath his wife’s facade. Hannibal brushed the thoughts away and instead turned his attention back to his wife, tracing over the tattoo on her back as she told him about the students she had to deal with at school that day. Hannibal only hummed and nodded his head, the thought still lingering in the back of his mind.

“You’re not listening!” she said, whining. Hannibal chuckled at his wife before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, a signal to continue and she did, ranting on about her class as Hannibal listened to her voice. There was always something about his pretty little wife that intrigued him. Even before they met or he began to court her, Hannibal saw her from afar. Like she was the moon and he was the star in the night sky. She was one in billion while he was a speck of dust compared to her beauty. On countless occasions he and his wife hosted her students with unfortunate home situations in their far too big home.

“You should sleep, my love.” Hannibal told her, petting her hair gently, as if she would break if he did it too hard. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile before kissing his cheek and heading up to bed. Hannibal’s promise that he’d be there soon only made her nod. Of course, he didn’t know his wife prior to courting her, no. She was Will’s friend. A close friend at that as well. His beautiful, smart and cunning wife was someone who knew the reclusive Will Graham inside out. In fact, their meeting was by chance, Will tried everything to keep his lovely friend away from the predatory gaze of Hannibal Lecter. However he failed and instead attended their wedding as best man. Hannibal smiled at the thought of (Y/n) in the white dress she wore on their wedding. The painting of them hung over the fireplace.

Hannibal thought back to the very first time he saw his wife, under the sunshine, in a beautiful great summer dress at Will Graham’s house. She barged in, looking at Hannibal confused before asking him who he was. Hannibal stared back at her confused, appalled by her rude behavior. Will looked between the two of them before sighing and apologizing to Hannibal. He stated that he forgot about the small picnic he had planned with his dear friend.

“Oh you’re the psychiatrist!” She claimed, a moment of realization dawning on her. Hannibal could feel the warmth coming up onto her cheeks. She nodded at him before secretly gesturing to Will to leave. Hannibal offered her a kind smile, one she returned.

Hannibal was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a loud crash from upstairs. His immediate thoughts went to his wife. He scurried up the stairs, worrying if (Y/n) was okay. It wasn’t an impossible thought to think that an ex patient of Hannibal’s would attack her. She was his family, the only one he had left. Thoughts of her death rushed forward into Hannibal’s mind. Finding her laying dead there would certainly break him beyond a point of repair.

“Darling! What happened?” Hannibal shouted out, a sense of urgency in his voice. When he heard nothing, he rushed faster up the stairs, they seemed never ending in this moment. Once he reached the upper floor, Hannibal tentatively opened the door, not prepared to see what could possibly lie on the other side of it.

“Darling?” Hannibal called out. He waited for a moment and when he heard no answer, he went in. The sight in front of him surprised him to say the least.

His pretty little wife, hacking away at the intruder with her letter opener. The man on the floor was bludgeoned beyond recognition. His face caved in, clearly she used the phone to do that. His wife’s hair was all over the place, pieces of hair covered in chunks of blood and skin. The man’s chest was cut open. Hannibal took in the sight before him, a ghost of a smile on his face. He was correct, there was something much darker that lay beneath her facade of normality.

“Dearie?” Hannibal called out to his wife and she looked at him, brushing away some hair from her face while spreading blood on it as well. Hannibal just fell in love with her all over again. She smiled at him.

“Hannibal! I’m so glad you came up.” (Y/n) told him, walking forward to reach him, Hannibal met his wife half way and pulled her into him. Kissing her with such passion. The blood that was once on her hands now on his as well. It was morbid, the two of them, kissing in front of a dead body. Thought it was sweet too. The two of them accept each other for who they are. There was no need for them to hide who they are.

“Let’s clean up, get rid of the body.” Hannibal whispered into his wife’s ear. Glancing at the body once again.

“I know exactly what you could do with the body.” His wife spoke, looking up at Hannibal with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Hannibal looked down at her, smiling as well. She was Bonnie to his Clyde. The moon to his stars, his entire universe. There was not a single thing that Hannibal wouldn’t do for her.

“The things we do for love.” Hannibal said, leaning down to kiss his wife’s forehead. He felt her nod on his chest.

LITTLE MERMAID

SUMMARY . unable to witness your death a second time, your sister desperately strives to change your fate, even if it meant ridding of others to prevent it.

CHARACTERS . ARIADNE VALENTINE

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, violence, abuse, death, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 1.8k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . i have only read up to chapter 17 in Becoming The Villain's Family when this idea just spawned. so, the timeline in which i wrote this fic will focus more so on the scenes in the beginning.

HERE’S A fun fact. Did you know that if you were to encounter a Mermaid, the higher the chances are of encountering a Siren as well? In addition to the creatures viewing each other as family, because of a mermaid’s delicate nature, sirens are naturally possessive of them. They become drunk and hypnotized by a mermaid’s affection, and thus, diligently fulfill a mermaid’s desires to preserve the shine they thrive off of. It’s an interesting tale, to learn the charmers become the charmed. However… if The Mermaid were to ever fall, so will The Siren as their main source of warmth has died. They will descend into madness and become the hostile nature they are known for or even worse, willingly succumb to the hands of death.

In the past, both you and your half-sister, ARIA, led a pitiful life. Throughout your years, your stepmother would force your sister to consume a potion, rendering her speechless, whereas yours will gently hug you, encouraging you to always remain neutral. It was confusing and painful, as it seemed those were the only moments your mothers cared about you both. Your stepmother, quiet as a mouse, and your mother, apathetic as a heart of stone.

During those times, you and Aria were grateful for each other, more so Aria, as she would cling to your tiny body crying and trembling while you tenderly kissed her cheeks and wiped away her tears.

Eventually, the truth came to light when you were the age of five, and your sister, ten. Through the season of spring, your mother passed, inclusive of your stepmother, who apparently went mad and took her own life after hearing of your mother’s death. By eavesdropping on the maids, it was then you both learned of each other’s identities, Aria, a Siren, and you, a Mermaid.

Sirens, gaining the name of the ancient monster, that flowed through your stepmother’s blood, through their songs, they possessed people, treated them, controlled them, and shook their emotions. Mermaids, gaining the name of the mythical creature, that flowed through your mother’s blood, through their tears, they shed milky crystals that held the power to repel a siren’s song. With those tears too, they were capable of granting grand wishes whether great or small, destructive or creative. Despite how dangerous their power was, they were harmless and good-natured.

Twelve years ago, your father had kidnapped a Mermaid and a Siren, presenting them to the world as they were originally known as myth. That Mermaid was your mother, and The Siren, your stepmother.

Your mind was too young to understand the information told and realize how dire the situation was. So, it worried you to see your sister in a constant state of panic and tears every now and then. You had asked her several times for the reason for her grief, but she brushed your concerns off each time, snuggling closer to you. And your worries slowly diminished as well as you returned the hug. Till… it happened one night when your father was unbelievably drunk out of his mind.

It was sudden, you were telling a story to your sister while she clung to you before your father barged inside the room, a wave of hatred visible in his eyes. One thing led to another and your sister was dragged outside the room by the hair. Even though you couldn’t make sense of what was happening, the sword that was tightly grasped in his hand as he took your sister away, was enough for you to spring into action. A silly game of tug-of-war it was, you, screaming your lungs out while you pulled at the hem of your sister’s nightgown, and your father, effortlessly dragging you both, to where he pleased. What it took to stop him, was the perfectly sweet voice of your sister, and the solid gems that fell from your eyes as you wept. He resembled a total madman, reaching toward you both as he cackled about the materials he could possess. You could only cry harder as your sister hugged you, burying your head against her chest.

Your lives were horrific beyond that point. Living the lives of a Mermaid and a Siren, you both were forced to mature quickly, learning and hearing unspeakable things. Becoming caged animals, you were pressured to fulfill the greed of scum. And despite all the abuse you suffered, you continued to push smiling, even when the exhaustion taking a toll on your body became more visible with each passing day.

Such a selfless soul you were too, quick to jump to others' needs instead of yours. Whenever your sister silently wept after a song, you would rub her head in comfort, sweetly hushing her as she lay in your lap. Whenever she was angry, you would squeeze her hands, attempting to calm the brewing storm in her heart. Whenever she felt as though she couldn’t make it, you would kiss her cheek, saying that she has done so well.

She, of course, soaked up every affection you provided. Too occupied wallowing in her sorrows and the comfort she will receive afterward from you, she forgot that you were also affected, dealt with the same ill-treatment, as well as that you had your limitations. So when the day arrived when you had no tears left to cry, her heart shattered.

It was a pitiful sight to witness, your sister in a mess as she cried desperately to you, begging for you to stay. You wished that you could, but the longer your head rested on her lap, and her cold hands held your cheeks, you felt more of your life fade away. So you forced yourself to cry, to shed one more tear, and it fell.

With that tear, you wished, that perhaps in another lifetime, both you and your sister could enjoy your days in endless glee, like free birds soaring in the sky.

As you drew your last breath, your sister too accepted her death, willing to perish alongside you. You were her joy, her motive to continue her days. But, when you left, so did those things. And she sang her last song, calling to whoever could come and console her weeping soul. Even when her savior came and held her in his arms, your sister’s eyes never left your corpse as she continued to sing. Maybe, if she died, she’ll be reunited with you in the depths of hell, unknowing of the white glow that shone by your corpse as she closed her eyes…

…So it came as a great surprise when she reopened her eyes not to hell, but to a lovely floral scent wafting in the air… As it dawned on her that she reverted to her ten-year-old self her head immediately snapped to the spot beside her on the bed, a lump visible under the duvets. With a shaky hand, she slightly tugged it downward… revealing your adorable face.

She almost cried there on the spot, leaning forward to press a kiss against your temple. She remembered that wish you made on your deathbed… could this outcome be a result of your wish being granted? If so, she will not take it for granted. Your father… who ruined both of your lives, she will inflict vengeance on him. She will save you from your fate no matter what it takes.

“MY YOUNG Lady, you seem upset. Is everything alright?” Dana asked, chuckling lightly. Damn right, she’s upset. And no, she’s not alright. Can’t she tell? She was considered to be weak physically, but, god, the sight in front of her filled her with so much rage that she was capable of snapping the spoon in her hand in half.

The maid assigned to you was just doing what she ought to do, heeding your commands. If you tell her to bark like a loyal dog, she will do just that and obey your orders. So, naturally, if you had instructed her to spoon-feed you the food brought to the table, the maid would oblige.

Aria's teeth sunk further into her bottom lip, listening to how you squealed and laughed in glee when the maid gently wiped the crumbs off your face, chuckling along with you. Why were you acting so sweet and loving to someone you just met? She was there longer than that maid ever was, no? She was the only one there for you when you suffered, so rightfully, whatever abnormality or emotion you may feel, she is the only one allowed to witness it.

"What is it you don't like, My Young Lady?" Tearing her eyes off the sight that sickened her greatly, she stared blankly at her caretaker, who contrasted her expression with a beaming smile. She was so focused on the scene that she hadn't realized her body moved on its own, scribbling messily on the piece of paper she used to communicate.

She slowly wrote again. “You don’t like the maid, My Young Lady?” Dana tried to hide her amusement over the situation, albeit terribly, I may add, the fingers pressed against her quivering lips a dead giveaway. “So, that’s why you have that frown… Young Lady, are you perhaps jealous?”

Jealous? The feeling inside her body burns too hot for it to be deciphered as jealousy. What she felt was a pure unspoken rage that could tip over at any given moment. Such anger she felt… was similar to the night she confronted her drunken father after she awoke as a child. In short, she didn’t want this maid to just leave. She wanted her gone. Entirely.

“Hmmm…” Dana frowned at Aria’s discontent. Pinching her chin in thought, she glanced in your direction. “The Other Young Lady does not know how to use cutlery correctly, hence why she always seeks assistance. However… Ah!” Dana snapped her fingers as a thought popped up. “Why don’t you feed The Other Young Lady instead?”

The rate at which Aria immediately perked up was comical. Eyes sparkling like fine jewels, she was practically buzzing in her seat! Satisfied that she made her Young Lady smile, Dana quickly moved to update your maid on the change of plans.

You were very confused when your maid abruptly stood from her chair, big-doe eyes staring when she stood near the doorway with a large smile plastered on her lips. But when your sister approached you, taking the spot the maid sat on to feed you, all questions vanished. You were already glad to see your sister just… there, so, think of the wave of happiness that rushed over you when she wrote she wanted to feed you!

The food served became tastier now that your sister was the one feeding you. And with a full mouth of food and eyes that glimmered in admiration of your sister, you huffed out an ‘I love you’ as best as you could. It was a bit gross to see some bits of food fly out of your mouth, but the warmth that clenched her heart from your genuineness overpowered her disgust. Smiling fondly, she wiped your messy mouth before leaning over to press a loving kiss on your forehead.

Your happiness truly is the source of her own happiness. Keep smiling for her, she will do anything to preserve it and anything for you, her little mermaid.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

"the cow's horns are missing"

"It's jonesy idiot"

Im tried to make a "detailed" background, and that's the result hahaha

I need to practice more

₍˄·͈༝·͈˄*₎◞ ̑̑

Hallo hallo! Hope ur having a fab day/night!

I was wondering do you think Patrick Bateman counts as a slasher (I also came up with his cat name “Cat-rick Batemeow”)?

Have a good day/night!

I think he does. He ticks some of the boxes. I mean, Pinhead’s classed as a slasher yet Hellraiser is not really in the slasher genre… I really enjoyed American Psycho. Unintentionally or intentionally a hilarious film:

do you think normeow would be one of those cats that's really attached to its owner? After all I assume they'd (kinda) take the place of mother?

Hopefully that makes sense

He’s definitely clingy. Obsessed even:

The owner is definitely his “mother”