Oneshots, imagines, and ideas, oh my! *discontinued*

Hannibal Lecter Imagine

Hannibal Lecter Imagine

Note: So it's the strangest thing, but I published this back in may, nobody liked it, I was hurt, but then I actually reread it earlier and it was unfinished? Untitled? I clearly remember finishing and naming it, so I looked through the revision history and, low and behold, found the proper copy. So enjoy this remastered version of the chapter published in like may, with like 2,000 words never seen before fuck my life.

This is my proudest piece of work, honestly, so do tell me if you agree. I actually planned to make this a book--I still might, but whatever. 

Warnings: Rated Arrrrr for violence, cursing, and possibly disturbing imagery? Set in the silence of the lambs universe, but can be understood on its own. 

Hannibal Lecter Imagine

Y/n L/n was a pretty average looking woman. Those weren't too common around the nut house, and so folks began to take notice as she strutted through.

Looking past her bland front, she was a treasure-trove of paradoxes.

Nice shoes, cheap bag.

Baggy, outdated clothes--meticulously pinned (H/c) hair.

Kind eyes, fake smile.

These little 'quirks' would've been obvious to any run of the mill shrink, and so Hannibal was unsure as to of why she would waltz down to his cell so undefended.

See, Dr. Lecter had been informed he'd be meeting a new psychiatrist, and it only took a little bit of pressing to find out her name and everything anyone knew about her. Y/n got a Ph.D. young, majored in Psychology and minored in criminology. Worked as a profiler for a small-town PD, came to the big leagues after both catching and curing some small-town serial killer--a lunch-lady who had taken to adding some extra flavoring to the regularly scheduled meals.

It was certain that she had some idea of what she was doing, and Doctor Y/n L/n was coming to see him.

The 'cell' next to him was filled by a repugnant stain of a human being, an absolute loon who went by the name 'Miggs' and nothing else. Miggs was locked away for reasons even Dr. Lecter considered obscene, and though he was in no way intelligent, he was rather tricky. His babbling drew the attention of most curious eyes--which were quickly met with a revolting surprise. Dr. L/n, however, walked right past the ranting psycho as he proclaimed that he'd chewed his own wrist off, and she landed right in front of the proper cell. 

She didn't initiate dialogue right away, rather she looked at him with a level expression. Her body language was open, as though she were...inviting him to analyze her.

"Good morning."

"Dr. Lecter, it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. As you likely know, I'm--"

"Y/n."
"Yes, I'm Doctor Y/n L/n. I'll be your psychiatrist from now on."

"You don't strike me as someone particularly keen on introductions, Y/n, and yet you're acting so formal with me."

She gave him a tight smile as the orderly tasked with watching the block, set up a folding chair for her.

"Stay this far from the glass at all times, don't give him anything, don't accept anything. If you ever have to, slide soft paper with no clips or staples through the food slot. If he needs to hand them back, let him slide it back the same way. Don't touch him."

"Thank you, Barney, I'll be safe."

"Just in case, remember I'm watching." He pointed to a camera across from Hannibal's cell, as a comfort to her and a threat to its contents. With another unsure glance to the doctors, he walked back to his office, where he would indeed be watching. It made sense--after all, mistakes had been made, before, even will all the precautions, and one unfortunate man lost his ring finger up to the second knuckle.