“his soul is tainted, one of a deceiving, diabolical angel. he is raven-crowned, with smoke hazy eyes and intentions that are nothing but cataclysmic.”
— no, he had no soul at all // n.s.

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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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@mydcsign
“his soul is tainted, one of a deceiving, diabolical angel. he is raven-crowned, with smoke hazy eyes and intentions that are nothing but cataclysmic.”
— no, he had no soul at all // n.s.
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰? 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐰 𝐨 𝐫 𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝, 𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑.
Sometimes at night, I leave the lights on in my little house and walk across the flat fields. When I look back from a distance, the house is like a boat on the sea. It’s really the only time I feel safe.
O O C - ( get out of my head! ) If ANYBODY can refer me to somebody who makes great themes, please DM me. I would love to update my current theme with something more modern. Thanks. ---- 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒽𝒶𝓂
❝ 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕝-𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕤𝕦𝕚𝕥 ❞ ©
Pride & Prejudice (2005) l Cinematography
If Hannibal’s the Ripper, what’s he doing with his trophies ?
independent hannibal lecter rp blog . primarily NBC-based . rebooted february 2020 .
❝ ––––––––––The men in the room suddenly realised that they did not want to know her better. She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close–––––––––– ❞
Indie & selective Bedelia Du Maurier written by Kore
HUZZUH! I figured out how to do the super small text again. Also it occurred to me I don't have my favorite of my icons saved. So I'm going to go back through my old PC and see if I can recover them. ♥
“ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ᴏғᴛᴇɴ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀsᴛʏ. “ — Will Graham
Hey all. May be coming back. Stay tuned. ♥
shcsallrightnow:
@mydcsign
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Abigail looked up from her coffee, blinking at Jack Crawford before nodding slowly. In truth, she was surprised he cared about her well-being at all, what with their rocky history. But she supposed that when it came to Hannibal Lecter, he was content to keep his enemies close, if only for the sake of “the good doctor’s” arrest.
“Call him,” she agreed. “Will’s testimony is just as important as mine, if not more important, so convince him of that. Just…don’t tell him I’m here.”
Jack frowned. “If I tell him the truth, Dr. Lecter won’t find out you’re alive.”
“Please…just don’t. Not yet.” Abigail didn’t trust that to be true. As often as she’d been sold down the river, it was difficult for her to trust anyone at all.
Expression grave, Jack nodded before lifting the phone to his ear. When he heard the telltale click of the line being answered, he said, “Will – it’s me, Jack. I trust you’ve gotten the Bureau letter requesting your attendance in court? I’d rather not subpoena you, but if I have to, I will. We’re counting on you to win this.”
Anxiously chewing on her thumbnail, Abigail’s brow creased as she tried to determine whether or not Jack would have a fight on his hands.
He sat outside a small cafe midtown, finding the early morning the most --- pleasant, being that the only people out and about were the working folks of the world. The ones that preferred briefcases and morning coffees over the luxury of sleeping in or any of the other pleasantries people like him were often robbed of; he was lucky enough to get a full nights sleep as it stood. So he joined the herd, or what was the start of it, and sat outside the small series of buildings in order... well, honestly, he didn’t know why he was here this early. Abigail liked to drink coffee, and she insisted they come by this morning to, quote, ‘Rise with the sun.’ And how could he refuse? The girl was important to him, more than she knew, and it’d be his fault if he didn’t listen to her request. So, he sat with her, lifting a half empty, hot cup of coffee, which was admittedly, drowning under a pile of whipped cream.
Mid-conversation with Abigail, his phone vibrated against his thigh inside his pocket, and he briefly pressed together his lips and set his cup aside. “ Speak of the devil, “ Will gave a tired smirk in Abigail’s direction, and he reached to answer his phone. He pressed it to his ear. “ Jack, “ he greeted with a slow inhale. Glancing towards a few people who walked past the road to his right, Will gave a brief clearing of his throat and listened to what jack had to say; about court, about his testimony. Raising his free hand, the agent rubbed tiredly at his forehead - tiredly, but roughly. “ ---- yes, Jack, “ he nodded, then looked to Abigail. “ I’ll be there. In fact, I will be --- back home, in less then twenty-four hours. Twenty-two if you pick me up at the airport, Jack. “
mydcsign:
𝕎 𝕀 𝕃 𝕃 𝔾 ℝ 𝔸 ℍ 𝔸 𝕄 ❝ ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴍʏ ᴅᴇsɪɢɴ ❞ • INDEPENDENT • RATED R ONLY • MATURE THEMES
#my favorite comedy