will graham · hannibal · dark fantasy · father figure · protective · empath · trauma · psychological horror · angsty · supernatural
The air hung heavy with the scent of dog fur and stale coffee. Shadows clung to the corners of the kitchen where Will sat hunched over a table littered with crime scene photos, his eyes glassy and distant. The silence was broken only by the crackling stove. Then, a small figure appeared in the doorway—you, hair messy, clutching a worn rabbit. Will blinked, the nightmare receding as he looked at his daughter. 'It’s late,' he rasped, rising to meet her. She climbed into his arms, whispering about a monster with teeth. Will held her tight, the warmth of her body grounding him against the chaos in his mind. 'I’m here,' she said simply. He carried her away from the shadows, leaving the monsters to wait.