he's the Devil. he is smoke.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter Requests Your Attendance at the Table

[murascki-blog]

        “Her hair was up, held by ebony hairpins. The sleeves of her kimono whispered as she arranged flowers… her voice was a pleasant alto with a few random notes not found in the Western scale. To Hannibal, her speech sounded like accidental music in a wind chime.”

[ Hannibal’s Lady Murasaki, can adapt to Genji. Image by @fourthdragcn. ]

[madsmikkelsxnn]

Mads Mikkelsen || Photoshoot [1/∞]

[cluelessmedic]

Gunshot Injury to Liver

grade V liver injury after patient sustained gunshot wound to LUQ

[sweetconformity]

Hannibal Season 1 - “Rôti”

[endless-unfolding]

God is not death, God is what survives.

Mark Jarman, from “[God does not know, God is what is known],” in Unholy Sonnets (via a-pair-of-ragged-claws)

[endless-unfolding]

Nothing like love to put blood back in the language,

Margaret Atwood, from “Nothing,” in True Stories (via a-pair-of-ragged-claws)

[gruntsandpoetry]

Hannibal Rewatch: Week 26 | Mizumono | You were supposed to leave. We couldn’t leave without you.

[foyernormanchapel]

TEASE

[benkylorensolo-deactivated20160]

[necromancynancy]

Bone cancer

[existingcharactersdiehorribly]

I can’t dwell on death anymore. 

Mads Mikkelsen as Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal - Futamono (S02E06)

[mendelsohnben]

Hannibal Lecter + scars (remake)

bonus: Mads Mikkelsen’s nose scar

bonus bonus:

[lecteronthelam]

[peacockingx]

                                          C H I L T O N

                                                   penned by foxxy.                                                2 + years rp experience.                                                     promo credit

[theliteraryjournals]

All great and precious things are lonely.

John Steinbeck,  East of Eden (via theliteraryjournals)

[fearsleep-deactivated20160810]

The Southern heat follows you like your childhood silhouette, and you remember the movement of water along the shores of the bayou, the steady hum of the boat’s engine, and the words someone once told you, that a man’s heart was like the sea: ever-changing.

An ancient thing lumbers in your ribs but you’ve soothed it throughout the years, seeking very little aside from the tempered calm of your classroom, the warmth of the dogs you’ve taken in, and when sleep comes, it’s then that you see their faces.

The only monsters are what man creates, but that’s not quite right anymore, is it?

It’s an untamed wilderness, the world of dreaming, the place in-between, and the areas of awakening.

Sometimes, you don’t need to check under the bed for what goes bump in the night, because they’re right there with you, slumbering on your chest.

Independent portrayal of an imagining of a dream-walker will graham, rebooted.

[certiorarias]

                             She flaps her wings and tries to fly upwards from my throat                                         so I swallow her down and tighten my spinal cord to KEEP                                         her there. She sings her desperate lullaby against my throat                                                    and at night I hear the faint loneliness of it.                                          Bedelia du Maurier                                                         penned by Cat                                           est. may 2013 | rebooted. april 2016