Aug. 17th, 2020 04:54 pm
More plot bunnies, alas.
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Somebody tell me not to write a "crack taken seriously" comedy future!fic where Molly decides to Eat, Pray, Love her way across Europe in the wake of season three and keeps accidentally bumping into Hannibal and Will.
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(LOL, my crackfic for this canon is "Yeah, Will is still a Cassandra! But it's funny!")
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These are all so good and very, very accurate. I feel like Hannibal fandom is severely lacking in comedy fic overall.
WILL: Alana, you remember that Hannibal made a vow to one day murder you and your whole family, right?
ALANA: *rolls eyes while taking huge bite of gourmet salad* Please, Will, this holiday is our first time in the public eye in a year and a half. We're probably being documented by paparazzi as we speak. He's not going to kill us when he's could get caught on camera.
MARGOT: And even if he was willing to risk it, there's no way he's going to take us out before the dessert course.
HANNIBAL: *saluting them both with a wine glass* I have prepared a most delectable fig and goat cheese tart for this evening. It would be a shame for you to miss it.
MOLLY: Ooh, I love goat cheese!
ALANA: See?
WILL: *doing WTF hands in several different directions*
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IT IS. This is the show that put a social worker inside a horse! It rhymes with "cannibal"! The murder wizard flew to Detroit (or wherever it was)! Embrace the crack, people!
HANNIBAL: *saluting them both with a wine glass* I have prepared a most delectable fig and goat cheese tart for this evening. It would be a shame for you to miss it.
MOLLY: Ooh, I love goat cheese!
ALANA: See?
WILL: *doing WTF hands in several different directions*
//DIES
Even in some gorgeous Venetian palazzo, far away from dogs, and even tho Hannibal has laid out a flattering shirt and nice slacks and good shoes for the guest luncheon, Will's clothing is probably still covered in dog hair.
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HANNIBAL: *gathering up some of Will's cast-off clothes to do laundry, squinting at a silk-blend button-down as he realizes there's dog hair on it* How?
HANNIBAL: *lifting an entirely new set of fine linen suit pants made specifically to Will's measurements out of a garment box, leaning in close, and frowning when he sees there's dog hair on these, too* HOW?
HANNIBAL: *kicking the door to Will's office open holding a still-sealed pair of couture underwear in some kind of ritzy plastic wrapping before him like a live bomb because by some dark magic of the universe, there's dog hair inside the packaging* HOW, WILLIAM?
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YES
YESSSSSSSSSS