Various x Reader

Rude ||Hannibal Lecter||

Tw: mentions of unsupportive parents, dead name, & she/her pronouns

Y/b/n= your dead name

l/n= last name

You wandered around the spacious art museum, taking in every beautiful piece of art while you were there. You were on a vacation, and had convinced your mother to take you here on your last day. You had seen some of the pieces from the galleries in your hometown already, but there were a lot that you hadn't seen.

You were happy to lose yourself in the art around you—the trip had been a difficult one so far, since so many strangers here called you "sir", but had been shut down by your parents. They never wanted to follow you around museums—they found museums boring, while you saw life in the art that was inside. 

You had come across one piece in particular that had caught your eye—there was so much life in the strokes, and the marking. You had been staring at it for a fairly long time, and had hardly noticed the man standing beside you until he spoke.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" You jumped slightly. The man was nicely dressed, and spoke with an accent. He was standing a polite distance away from you, his hands laced behind his back. "My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you."

You smile slightly, and nod. You didn't want him to assume you were a girl by the sound of your voice—you weren't on T, and hadn't done anything to lower your voice in a while.

"Do you know the story behind the piece?" The man asked. You looked back at him, and shook your head 'no'. "It's quite fascinating, actually, the artist painted this when he was in Rome. He got the inspiration form this piece when he saw—"

"Y/b/n! There you are! It's time to go." You cringed at your mother's words echoing throughout the spacious room.

"Can, um, can I finish hearing something about this?" You gestured to the painting—you were very interested in the piece.

Your mother looked up at the man, and scoffed. "Who even are you and why are you talking to my daughter?"

"I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I saw your son was taking interest in this piece. It happens to be one of my favorites as well." He said, calmly.

"Son? You will not speak to my daughter like that! She is a girl."

"He seems very uncomfortable with you calling him that. Do you think that, perhaps, you being so uncomfortable with your son's identity is a reflection of your own insecurities concerning your own self, and expression?"

Your mother gaped at him with an open mouth. "I—you—how dare you?" She managed after a while, taking you arm. "Come on, y/d/n, we're leaving."

"Wait, one moment, I didn't catch your name." Hannibal stated.

Your mother narrowed her eyes. "All you need to know about me is that my last name is l/n."

"Nice to meet you." Hannibal said.

"No, no it wasn't." Your mom said.

"Be careful, Mrs. L/n. You may choose to humiliate him like this now, but I'd be careful about who you're rude to." 

Your mom rolled her eyes at him, before guiding you out of the gallery, you being sure to memorize the name of the painting.

A/n: do you think it would be a good idea to censor out words like "daughter", and she/her pronouns? Like: "da*****r, *he/he*? 

It might look choppy, but it could potentially divert from potential dysphoria/discomfort? 

Additionally, if I ever miss any trigger warnings, feel free to let me know (you can pm me if you want).