For my Hannibal lovers! If I made these into stickers, would you guys potentially buy them? 👉🏼👈🏼
For my Hannibal lovers! If I made these into stickers, would you guys potentially buy them? 👉🏼👈🏼
warmup doodle of........they
I started drawing this comic before I knew what I wanted them to be saying
My boyfriend suggested that they’re talking about KFC
Hannibal eating Chilton’s lips for pure shock factor is so funny because yes he’s a cannibal but he won’t eat things that are uncooked and unseasoned. He really just ate that shit for the gag, I know he thought that shit was nasty!!!!!
Long live Abigail Hobbs
yuri on ice au. will being a big fat fan of hannibal and naming one of his dogs after him. also gives me an excuse to draw hannibal with long hair in the future
submitted without comment
Hannibal lecter x patient Y/N be like:
imagine being hannibal lecter and having such good pussy that you can make will graham sail across the atlantic ocean to find you in a boat he made himself after you literally stabbed him…the absolute power of that man and his pussy
dream blunt rotation
Hannibal took Bedelia to Italy and Will said I will now be a skank. That's my boyfriend and I hope he eats you
ooooooo i’m ‘bout to diiiiive iiiiinnnn
Me: *starts humming*
Hannibal: Don’t do it.
Hannibal: Do. Not. Do. It.
Me: I’m an the Pizza Hut. I’m at the mortuary. I’m at the combination Pizza Hut and mortuary.
Hannibal: …I should have eaten you.
Honestly Hugh Dancy (Will Graham) aged like fine wine. Not that he wasnt handsome before, it's just that he somehow transitioned to beautiful. Beautiful like lovely and cruel in a way that is just right
Hannibal 2x11 - “Ko No Mono”
Hannibal 2x10 - “Naka-Choko” deleted scene
Y/n and Will are back on the case. They rejoin Jack to interview the mother of a fellow victim.
Trigger warnings: religiously-motivated homophobia, brief mention of white supremacists, grief and loss, YouTube commenters
@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @lov3vivian
“I know it goes without saying, but this isn’t an interrogation.” Jack explained from the driver’s seat. “Mrs. Miller isn’t a suspect. Be on your best behavior.”
You looked up from your phone. “Yeah, I will.”
“Thank you, Ms. [L/N], but I was talking to Will.” Jack said. He glared at Will. “Are we clear?”
Will let out a petulant sigh. “What do you think I’m going to do?”
“I can’t imagine coming face-to-face with the man who killed her daughter will be an enjoyable experience.” Jack fixed his eyes back on the road. “Just let me do the talking.”
“Can you fucking believe these comments?” You piped up from the backseat. “Get a load of this shit. ‘All [F/N] [L/N] seems to talk about is Chase Mulvaney. She seems obsessed. I think someone has a crush.’“
“Someone took the time to write that down?” Jack commented. “and didn’t once stop to think that maybe some thoughts aren’t worth sharing.”
“Not just one person, too.” You scrolled down. “This one says ‘just admit you’re in love with Chase Mulvaney already girlie’, followed by like, fifteen heart eye emojis. He tried to kill me twice. I think that gives me enough of a reason to think about him.”
“I don’t know what’s more infuriating,” Will began. “Those comments or the ones about how Chase isn’t a ‘real Christian’ and that a ‘real Christian’ would never kill anyone.”
You felt the urge to bang your head against the window until you stopped feeling. “That’s what they say about the crusades, the inquisition, slavery, colonization and every time some sick fuck bombs a Planned Parenthood.”
Jack pulled into a freshly-paved driveway and put the car in park. “I’m serious, you two. Behave yourselves in there. I’m already sticking my neck out to have you both here.”
Jack led the way to the porch, you and Will trailing behind him like lost puppies. He knocked on the door and a middle aged white woman answered.
She immediately looked defensive and didn’t open the door all the way. “Yes, can I help you?”
“Mrs. Miller,” Jack began. “I’m Agent Jack Crawford from the FBI. This is Special Agent Will Graham and our civilian consultant, Ms. [L/N].”
Her anger was replaced with profound sadness. “This is about Catherine, isn’t it?”
Jack lowered his head in respect. “I understand you are in mourning, but if you could answer a few questions about Catherine, it would help us greatly to uncover the circumstances of her death.”
The woman went quiet and looked all three of you up and down. “You mean, ‘murder’. Her murder at the hands of a corrupt federal agent.”
“Mrs. Miller,” Jack sighed, trying to keep his tone sympathetic. “Your daughter was involved in a group led by a provably dangerous individual. Any information you could give us, no matter how trivial, could help us track down the man who put her in danger.”
She paused to think for a moment. “Would you answer some questions of mine, then?”
“Absolutely.” Jack nodded. “To the best of my ability, yes.”
She reluctantly opened the door enough to let you in. The one-story ranch house was covered in picture frames and crosses. You worried that the photos of Catherine would trigger bad memories, but the girl in the photos was not the same person as the girl who held you at knifepoint.
“Catherine was a sweet girl.” The woman began, her voice trailing off. She took a picture down from the mantle and handed it to Jack. “She loved to draw and was on the varsity lacrosse team in high school. She even got a scholarship to play for Dartmouth. I was going to see her off to school this August.”
“We’re very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Miller.” Jack said, placing his hand on his chest.
"Did she suffer?" She pleaded.
"Not at all." He assured her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Did she have any last words?”
Jack shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask her.”
He pointed to you, and Mrs. Miller fixed her desperate gaze on you.
You cleared your throat. You didn’t want to tell her that her daughter’s last words weren’t her own.
“I don’t remember.” You said, simply. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s my fault that she’s gone.” Mrs. Miller said, a lump forming in her throat. “If I hadn’t kicked her out, she’d still be in my arms.”
“Could you explain what happened that makes you feel that way?” Will asked.
“When Cat was about seventeen, she had this friend.” She sat down at the dining table in front of a large window. “Rachel, I think. Rachel Prowers. I came to realize that Rachel was more than a good friend to my Cat, and they had been secretly dating for months without me knowing about it.”
You tensed up, because you knew where this story was going. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad for a mother who disowned her daughter for loving another woman. It all clicked into place all at once. She was young, and vulnerable and looking for validation. Her bigoted mother who preached god’s endless love couldn’t find a way to love her.
“The good lord above says homosexuality is a sin,” She said over a catch in her throat. “But he also says that we are all made in his image. I learned the latter too late.”
“Did she have any connection to a person named Chase Mulvaney that you know of?” Jack leaned in.
Mrs. Miller shrugged. “There was a young man named Chase at our church. He headed up a ministry for single women and girls.”
“Was the logo for the ministry a cross on fire?” You blurted out.
“I don’t know, maybe.” Mrs. Miller answered. “Why?”
All eyes were on you. You realized that was a detail you’d neglected to give anyone. But you'd only just remembered it now. Better late than never.
“When he came to the restaurant,” You began, fidgeting with your fingers. “He was wearing a shirt that said ‘on fire for Christ’ with a picture of a burning cross. I thought it was a little tone deaf to put a racist hate crime on a shirt, but I thought maybe he was just oblivious.”
“Now that you mention it,” She scratched her head. “Yeah, I remember thinking the same thing.”
Jack's ears perked up at the notion of some kind of connection. "What church is this?"
"It's called the church of the Holy Eternal Shepherd, but I don’t think Chase worked there full time." She answered. "His ministry is headquartered somewhere remote. He boasted this luxurious retreat in the Blue Ridge Mountains for single women-"
You smacked Will's thigh under the table. The pieces were starting to come together. "There's our Borrasca."
Jack was the first to stand up from the table. "Thank you, Mrs. Miller. We will be sure to follow up with any relevant information."
You were in a hurry to head to the church. But Mrs. Miller wasn't done with you. You, specifically. She grabbed your arm as you were walking out the door.
"You're [F/N] [L/N], right?"
"Yes." You nodded, hoping to end the conversation there.
"You were the one who who Mr. Mulvaney was targeting." She concluded. "The one he sent my daughter after."
"That's right." You said. "That's me."
"Are you a woman of faith, Ms. [L/N]?" She asked. "Do you believe in the gospel of Jesus?"
It took every muscle in your body to hold back a seriously violent reaction. Instead, you took a deep breath in and pulled your arm from her grip. "No. I'm an atheist."
"I see." Mrs. Miller looked pensively off into the distance. "It's funny, that an atheist embodies the teachings of Jesus better than his own followers."
This was a twist. "Huh?"
"I read what you wrote about my daughter in that crime magazine." She explained. "You said something like 'the woman who attacked me was not Catherine Miller, but Chase Mulvaney wearing her skin. She is just as much a victim as I'. Do you really believe that?"
All emotion ran away from your face. "Yeah, I do."
"Thank you for humanizing my poor Catherine." She said with tears in her eyes. "Thank you for showing her the forgiveness that Jesus asks of us but so rarely gets."
You looked down. “Could you find it in yourself to forgive the agent had to kill Catherine to save me?”
Mrs. Miller cringed. “It will take some time. I will have to pray for the strength to do so. But eventually, I would like to be able to forgive him.”
“Thank you.” You said. She pulled you in for a short hug before you left to catch up with Will and Jack.
“We’ve got two new leads.” Jack said into his radio once he reached the car. “A young woman named Rachel Prowers and an evangelical church called the Holy Eternal Shepherd. I want the- damn, what do evangelicals call their highest ranking members? Pastors?”
“The grand wizard?” You offered.
“Try fuhrer.” Will added.
Jack rolled his eyes and returned to the radio. “Whoever acts as an administrator for that church, I want them taken in for questioning.”