Chapter Text
Honestly, the first child was an accident.
He had been strolling through Broadmoor high security psychiatric hospital, after he had taken it under his control. He was on his way to free one of his top men, who had been captured after being flipped on, when his attention had been caught.
At first glance there was nothing different about this glass faced cell than the others. It was part of a long, grey, cement hall in the highest security wing. Each cell was separated by 5 feet of thick concrete. Each cell was outfitted with a doorless pane of unbreakable plexiglass. In this cell though there was no crazed adult screaming to be let out - no - there was just an emotionless and perfectly poised preteen, sitting ramrod straight on a bleak bed.
Moriarty stopped.
“What's this kid doing here?” he asked, turning towards one of his goons.
Said goon shrugged and reached for the file in the bin outside of the cell. He glanced at the cover, eyebrows raising at the bright red stamp on the cover, only reserved for the most dangerous of patients.
Once he got his hands on the file Moriarty whistled, high pitched and impressed. He addressed the kid.
“13 kills. Impressive count for a kid. But why are you so dangeeeerrroouuuss.” He drew out the last word in a taunting sing song.
“I ate them.”
Moriarty hummed in surprise. That was most unusual. Normally cannibalistic tendencies develop much later in age but the kid could hardly be older than 11 or 12. He had brown hair and a thick lithuanian accent through the muzzle he was wearing. He didn't seem intimidated by Moriarty at all and stared him down with a glare that made his goons shiver and sweat.
“Get him out.” Moriarty was known to be impulsive and this was just another piece of proof. Spontaneously ‘adopting’ a murderous child? Just up his alleyway.
After getting him out Moriarty could have removed the muzzle but by the hungry looks he was giving his goons he thought better of it. It was made of a metal grate, strapped in front of his mouth with tight leather bands that went around the back of his head. One went around the base of his neck while another went from the top of the box, diagonally passed the corners of his eyes and fastened at the back of his skull. The metal was padded against his skin with leather padding.
They got his man and left.
By the time the second child came along Hannibal Lecter had lived with Moriarty for a year.
Hannibal asked to be put out on jobs, even at the tender age of 12.
He was only sent to the worst of the worst; rapists, child pornography distributors, sex traffickers...He chose his targets himself, took them down using himself as bait (a small lost boy with a lovely accent, and big doe eyes? He was gorgeous and top of the line goods for these particular scumbags), drugged them, took them to a secondary location, harvested them for the parts he needed, displayed them beautifully using props like a piece of art, and left to cook himself dinner.
No one really took part in his meals, not for a while at least. No one accompanied him on his jobs either. It was quite unsettling for grown men to be taken down so easily by a twelve year old.
Besides that, Hannibal wore his muzzle around the clock. Of course by now, thanks to Moriarty’s money, it was of higher quality and he had multiple versions on display in his room. Some were bedazzled in diamond, some made of steel or onyx or quartz. He even had a vibranium one for his bad days, as on such a day he once bit through a pure gold one and killed 12 people.
Living with Moriarty meant he never had to learn to control himself for more than a few hours, he always had a fresh supply of meat and human flesh was like a drug. As such he had to wear the muzzle (mostly of his own volition) as he had a tendency to leave a pile of bodies on said hunger filled bad days.
The second boy to show up was an odd one.
He came to Hannibal’s attention first. Whispers on the street of a teenager who could make you admit anything. One who drank 96% Vodka straight and did so without even flinching. One who charmed his way into people's houses and killed Every. Single. Person. But it wasn't until Hannibal accompanied his father on a job that they met the 14 year old with the biblical name.
His name was Lucifer Morningstar and he despised what he defined as 'sinners'. He would track down those who embezzled, lied, cheated, and stole. Not anyone of course, only those who did such to him and his drug ring.
Yes, a fourteen year old ran a drug cartel, and did so through a string of nightclubs in LA. He moved heroin, cocaine, methamphetamine, any other drug he could get his hands on.
It was easy when you were the devil.
Endless money, drugs, sex, alcohol...he had everything he wanted and more.
When Moriarty approached his cartel (they were absorbing way too much stock for his tastes) he was surprised at his age and after taking him under his wing, inadvertently adopted him. He only found out about the ‘im the literal devil’ thing after a deal went wrong and he was shot in the chest with a machine gun till it was empty and just seemed mildly annoyed.
Lucifer was older than Hannibal by a year but they seemed to get along well.
The third and fourth children were Hannibal's age, only younger by 13 days and 1 month respectively.
You see, Mycroft Holmes was bored. Well...as bored as a 12 year old genius can be, which, as it turns out, was a lot. To the point where he went out and killed a man.
Oh he covered it up of course, he wasn’t an idiot not by any means, he actually had the highest IQ in history. No, he walked up to the mansion (that he deduced the location of) of Jim Moriarty like he owned it, easily evading guards, cameras, and security systems alike.He then strolled passed the living room and into the large office without a care in the world.
Moriarty started. A child was standing in his office and it wasn't one of his either. Mycroft wore a perfectly tailored suit with matching shiny shoes. He was leaning against the doorway like he owned it and casually swinging his umbrella in circles.
“I have a proposition for you.”
The boy's voice was smooth and proper, he was obviously raised in high society. He wanted to be adopted by Moriarty as well. His father was an abusive asshole who envied Mycroft's mind, while his younger siblings were doted on and his mother ignored everything and everyone in favor of gossip and shopping.
Moriarty couldn't leave such an opportunity to anyone else so immediately signed the papers.
Percy Weasley on the other hand had had enough with being hated. Had enough with hiding himself. He packed up and left and finally let his urges go.
He killed 34 people before being caught by Moriarty and offered a place in the group. His tactic of catching and skinning targets before rendering them for the black market was an amazing addition to the growing crime family.