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Origami Around
One Nice Bug Per Day
trying on a metaphor
No title available
dirt enthusiast
Sade Olutola
taylor price

Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature

⁂

if i look back, i am lost

izzy's playlists!
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
ojovivo
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
cherry valley forever
No title available
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Stranger Things

Discoholic 🪩
seen from South Korea

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Mexico

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from Hungary
@cannibalconnoisseur
Send me "Askbox Roulette!" to see what you get!
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"Abel Gideon" is a perfect anagram of "I enable God".
Miriam Lass is almost "I miss a arm" actually. I wonder if there's a way to use the L that I'm missing.
Convenient Enough Entertainment (Closed to masonverger-rising)
Hannibal checked the time and sat back at his desk, rubbing the pads of his thumb and forefinger together as he let his mind wander--or, rather, wandered through though his mind. Mason Verger was his next appointment. As detestable as Mason could be he at least didn't give him the discourtesy of being too boring. Always another little insecurity or fixation to pick apart. He wondered if he would bother as much with the Verger siblings if Will wasn't now involved. It was interesting enough, but why bother with the hypothetical when the actual was at least equally entertaining? He checked the time again, needlessly, and stood to adjust his waistcoat. The doctor adjusted the ledger on his desktop as well, straightening it parallel to the edges of the desk before moving toward the door with the expectation that Mason would be punctual if nothing else.
/]9++
"I should go."
The Morning After Sentence Starters
Hannibal had stayed in bed after he woke, enjoying the closeness of the other’s sleeping body, his vulnerability, his quiet breaths and warmth. Then Will had pulled away, shaken with consciousness and jumping to a conclusion that felt safe. "If you must." Hannibal’s eyes fell to the bed clothes for a brief moment, a frown on his lips as he pursed them before shifting out of the bed. He pulled on his robe and closed the distance between them again. Anxiety had been what crept up to wake the brunette, it seemed. "You know you’re welcome to stay, though…" He took Will’s hand carefully in his own, lifted it to kiss his knuckles lightly. "I’d be more than happy to have you for breakfast."
"Who topped?"
The Morning After Sentence Starters
Hannibal was never one to pass up a truly new experience. Of course, he was hardly a virgin and had previously thought himself rather discerning when choosing a partner, too. Mason’s pale skin and disheveled hair in the stark light of morning left him questioning his own judgement. He more acknowledged than was hindered by the ache behind his eyes as he looked over the younger man. Full lips, wide eyes, slightly bloodshot, slightly darker just beneath his lower lid. Of course then there were the marks he’d left on him. Hannibal didn’t frown but hummed and felt somewhat…disgusted. "You couldn’t hazard a guess, Mason?" He replied simply with a slight quirk of his brow before slipping easily out of the bed.
Oh goodness I’m in love.
I typed “dongs keep a promise” instead of DOGS. Don’t know if this is a Freudian slip or—
In case skype/my internet decides to keep crapping out forever, ilu and good night bbs. i-let-him-kill-me masonverger-rising
Send me "booze" and my Muse will answer the phone drunk.
The Morning After Sentence Starters
"Get out, get out, get out, get out!"
"Do you remember anything from last night?"
"Why are you in my bed?"
"I'd offer you breakfast, but I think I'm too sore to move."
"So.. Was it good?"
"Who topped?"
"I thought you'd be gone by the time I woke up..."
"I should go."
"This didn't mean anything."
"We shouldn't have done this..."
"Of course I'm freaking out! You're my friend!"
"I'm guessing this was a one time thing?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know how this goes. I'll grab my clothes and get out of here."
"Good morning, hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt.."
"I made you coffee, did you want some Aspirin?"
"This stays between us."
"Congratulations. You actually convinced me to sleep with you."
"Are you sneaking out on me?"
"So, how much for last night?"
"Holy shit! she's on her way over here right now, she/he CANNOT see you!"
"Don't answer it!"
"Do you have any idea how wrong this was?"
"We're cheaters. We're horrible people. Oh god my mother would be so ashamed of me right now."
"..Do you wanna do this again sometime, maybe?"
Message me with "Hey there little one" to interact with my muse back when they were a child
Two Snakes
The Chesapeake Ripper.
I’d heard all about the killer from television alone and a large collection of news articles. Tattle Crime seemed to be the most alerting of sources – but none of these articles peaked my interest more than the imagery that came with them. The last time I was excited about another killers work was when I was trailing around my brothers clues all over Miami’s old-to-new landmarks. The Ice Truck Killer was an artist , and from what evidence I can see now, the monster residing in Massachusetts was driven by his own sick passions.
After Ritas death, I’d felt a void in my life that only the biggest and baddest out there could possibly fill. Deb feeds me sympathy, Angel and LeGuerta share these saddened little gazes across the room. It’s perfect really – I can take a leave of absence and they just shake their heads and allow it, noting it as a stage of grief. It’s not that I don’t feel the change, the emptiness that Rita left behind – it’s just that my urges are far stronger.
It didn’t really come to a surprise for me when I decided to take a plane out to pursue my own little investigation — Harrison being left in caring arms , arms unlike mine when the dark passenger has taken hold and won’t let go. I’ve had to buy new clothes, essentials for weather that is much cooler than the Sunshine states, and luckily my license has allowed me to bring along my needed tools like the M99 tranquilizer and the blades aligned in a perfect assortment. The ‘i’m hunting with some friends’ card didn’t hurt much either. It was almost too easy, but now I see my lucks run out.
Dexter had been picking around a crime scene at a very late hour, his eyes taking notice of the very little blood spatter in the room. This Ripper was very neat, precise, and probably had perfected this art ages ago. Something that Dexter currently wasn’t, his mind still askew from recent events — a loss of a life he thought he knew and understood. The moment he heard the footsteps all too late, eyes having deducing the body and it’s dramatically placed condition ; he’d frozen up, green eyes towards the door once he noticed two cold ones staring right back but for merely a second.
A second was all it took to recognize the monster in the doorway — though not the same it was almost as if a mirror was placed between him and the other ; two serial killers with separate agendas but the result always the same. I found you. The other could have ratted him out to his colleague in the doorway , but just like Dexter having been in Miami Metro all this time and picking off leads , he was also keeping Dexter to himself.
Dinner? You’re a mean one Mr. Monster.His thoughts were dripping with sarcasm but they did not lack the caution — watching both men, or hearing them finally leave the presence of the hallway. Dexter kept the location and restaurant in mind , intrigue as sharp as when The Ice Truck Killer was at large. It was strange having this feeling again, but unlike before this one isn’t his brother. I will not hesitate.
I had packed finer clothing, more as a precaution with spontaneous events than with a mind-set to actually wear them. These clothes were more funeral-suited, but perhaps they would be perfect with the man I would be seated across from — death being something he and I are both inclined to. I almost didn’t come here, unfamiliar with the state in itself and even more-so with it’s collection of murderers. Don’t fear the Ripper.
There he is. Dexter had stepped inside the restaurant and it’s enriching ambiance, eyes finding the man from the night before with ease. It was as if his could just feel him there, death thick in the air and growing thicker as he stepped further and further inside. The others eyes were venomous perhaps by nature, violet and sophisticated. Dexter only new a hand full of truly sophisticated killers in his time — this one is going to be a difficult one to kill.
"You have very rich tastes," Dexter pulled out a seat across from the man, eyes never leaving his , "— surprising that you would want me as company." He smirked slightly before his features drew back into their cold state. Maybe I’ll purchase some finer plastic.
Hannibal could feel the other's eyes on him before he saw the man, but his calm steady gaze found the new creature with relative ease thereafter. It was rare for anyone to be looking at him with such intent, not that those who found themselves under his own similar gaze typically grasped the significance. Hannibal does, but it only encourages an almost fond smile to spread at the corners of his lips. Those bright green eyes so very keen on cutting him open. Dr.Lecter takes it as little more than a compliment. "I've taken the liberty of ordering us a bottle." He stated as he stood, a polite bow of his head in greeting. He didn't examine the other's appearance too obviously, eyes on his face as he stood and only indulging in a glance over the other's suit as they took their seats. "We will say that the richness of the company is yet to be judged--but a meal shared is a meal complete, hm?" He replied leaning forward slightly, ever cordial. He was silent as a waiter approached, pouring Dexer a glass from the bottle and offering to state the specials for his date. An artful hand lifted to stop the server, thanking him graciously in dismissal. There was more than one reason Hannibal preferred to dine at home. Interruptions during dinner were intolerable, even the most considerate of interruptions. Perhaps if Hannibal knew his company truthfully he would have been more generous in his initial appraisal. He kept track of various stories online and in paper, some of them from Florida. Mixed in with culinary and medical literature they seemed harmless enough, especially given the doctor's profession. The Ice Truck Killer had been followed closely for all the work law enforcement did to keep the better details from the public. Miami increased the odds of something of interest as much as any populated area. The heat might not hurt those percentages either. If he had cause to look closer perhaps the doctor would recognize a pattern in just how many of the less savory Miami residents came up missing. For now, though, he remained ignorant of the bigger picture that was Dexter Morgan's darker identity entire. For now, he simply collected details and saw little beyond what was obvious to him in recognizing another who was unopposed to taking lives. "What shall I call you?" Hannibal is tempted to name the tan boy himself. Somewhere from the south, was it? Oh, those states did have a way, didn't they? He thought of Will Graham briefly and wondered if there was something to that, making mental note of the other's tan lines without honest effort. A wedding ring?
Feed Your Fear
"Perhaps," Jonathan agreed with a small nod. If all went well, the other doctor would never get the chance to do so, but it hurt nothing to act like the opportunity existed for Doctor Lector to examine him. It was almost interesting to wonder just what kind of a read the man would get from him in that situation. Or even what kind of read the other man got from their current interaction. It almost seemed a shame he would likely never get to know. He was letting his thoughts get away from himself and that was rather distracting from the purpose for his visit.
Mentioning his research was the fastest way to get Jonathan’s attention, and that his host was interested in doing so instead of attempting pointless banter about mundane and ultimately useless and boring subjects was a pleasant change from the doctors Crane usually worked on with. His lips twitched up at the corners as he said, “There are many ways to instill fear, but I am not here to jump out of a corner or from behind a door shouting ‘boo’ in an attempt to frighten you. Not only would this be a useless endevour, but it would not allow either of us to find the information we are looking for. I have worked on a compound that should do the trick, though."
He paused only enough to take another small bite of the food before him and continued once it had been swallowed down. “If you would be so kind as to allow me to dose you with this compound, I believe the results will be rather informative for both of us. I have no intention of lying to you, Doctor Lector. It will set off a chemical reaction in your brain and you will have a non-permanent break from reality. Visual and auditory hallucinations are the most common side effects, though some are so convinced what they are experiencing is real that they fool themselves into believing they felt what they saw on a physical level. Should you accept I can assure you you will see your deepest hidden fears. If you would be so kind as to tell me what the experience was like for you after, or during if at all possible, it would be most helpful to my research." He gave a small shrug, “If you do not wish my findings published, I will be more than happy to keep them to myself."
"Oh?" His features the perfect caricature of interest and mild surprise--as if he hadn't heard of the compound. Toxin was more accurate. "I suppose for the sake of accurate result I couldn't be privy to it's components?" The good Dr.Lecter tilted his head to the side before he glanced down, dexterous fingers moving to adjust his sleeves with careful casualty. "Very unorthodox, having no other witnesses present... Perhaps more so this location." His expression was cool and judging but without accusation. "I doubt what findings you gather will be publishable, even denying the issue of ethics." Hannibal was only continuing this for his amusement now, seeing what it took to ruffle the Crane's feathers. He reached for his glass and took another sip--no use in wasting good wine. Jonathan Crane was a private man. Hannibal respected the fact just as much as he'd disregarded it in uncovering ever detail he had access too in casual passing--more professional curiosity than anything. If Jonathan thought he would get out of their little bargain without holding up his end though, well, he would simply have to be shown differently. "Where should we begin?" He asked simply, a faint smile on his lips as if a dinner guest were readying to show him a parlor trick or display some talent. Talent indeed. Hannibal stood, pushing in his chair and motioning. "Please, lead the way."
life hurts im just going to pretend to be a serial killer for a little while instead