;; Having reached a milestone, I want to show my gratitude and appreciation to all of you who make my being here nice, entertaining and fun. I wouldn’t enjoy this place so much if you weren’t here, supporting, interacting and just being a bunch of beautiful people. So, thank you to all of you. I am really, really grateful for each and every one of you! These are the special ones.

 shadowsuspended - whopraysoverus - drfrederickchiltonphd - bedelix - abittangledup - devourtheimpolite - thedemonxwithin - empathd - psicopathos / liiioness - agentclaricestxrling - the-alana-bloom - pathologos - teacupwilliam

Free Will Vs. Determinism | Hannibal & Alex

Alex heard the footsteps of his host a little too late, and had already been caught drying his hair before he had a chance to stop and sit straight. “Not at all, sir. I would have insisted on eating in a more appropriate place if you hadn’t already moved it.” He stood, draping the towel over one arm, while holding the bundle of dirty clothes and towel in the other. “I should be the one worrying, not yourself, if I may say. I am the one intruding on your beautiful home. I am more than willing to clean up any mess that hasn’t already been taken care of, if you might allow for it.”

At that moment, he caught a view of the accent table in his peripheral vision, giving yet another polite smile. “More apologies, for moving your things. I was not thinking clearly at the time. The shower helped a great deal with bringing me back to reality.” The boy gave a stern nod, his smile widening to show teeth. “I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality, mister. Though, to avoid repetition, I shall say it no more, unless completely necessary.” There was a small pause, barely a few seconds, as the boy pondered before speaking again. “And… might I apologize once more for my excessive talking? It has simply been an odd sort of day, and, though I am better now, my mind is still not in the correct place.”

As he started towards the other, he looked down to the items in his arms. He fidgeted for a moment, hesitating to ask yet another question. He swore to himself that this would be the last for at least the next ten minutes; “Might there be a place I can put this before I go to eat, sir?”  

Well, at least that towel had been specifically for the boy’s own use. Hannibal was going to remember to put it with the laundry once he had the chance. Other than the moving of his objects without having at least asked first, his guest’s actions could only be viewed as polite, and his moving of Hannibal’s things were not worth giving out his usual punishment for.

“I can assure you that there is no need to apologise. I do not see you as an intruder. After all, you were in need of help.” There was the slightest of pauses before he continued, “And I would be more than happy to clean the mess myself.” He wouldn’t have a guest working around his house for him, and Hannibal was just about as meticulous in cleaning as he was with having his possessions in order. At least he was polite – perhaps that would be his visitor’s redeeming factor.

“There is no harm in talking,” he answered, “it is better to talk than to stay silent.” While he did listen to people speak all day, as would be in his job description, he didn’t mind talking or listening even more than he already had to. He enjoyed the company of others, and didn’t believe that he would ever to be one to tire of such things.

His mind worked quickly as he thought as to where the dirty clothes could be placed. He didn’t have any intention of doing his guest’s laundry; he wasn’t that hospitable. It only took a second or so for him to respond, “I can put them in the guest bedroom while you make your way to the dining room,” Hannibal made a swift motion to the dining room, which would be found easily enough following the small gesture the host had given him, “if you would prefer.”

Hannibal Lecter in Sorbet, part one

"Make him act on instinct. He’s always a predator."

So far on Hannibal (one gif per episode).

I could never entirely predict you. 

Parallels

make me choose  fallen-sparrow asked: Hannibal or True Detective

He’s very fuckable. - Alana Bloom about Hannibal

reasons

~ Impressionable ~ (closed rp)

She didn’t know what Hannibal was going to say, but she waited for his words with attentiveness and full faith, the way a child in a pulpit listens to her priest. The words from his mouth could become her doctrine; they were all she had. No memories, no life, no past—only Hannibal Lecter and his wisdom. 

When he spoke, she looked down at her hands to hide the little smile on her face. So she had a guideline. All this unlocked countless opportunities. The rude of the world… it was clear Hannibal disliked impoliteness. Abigail would learn to hate it. 

"The rude…" she repeated, looking up at him. "That’s who you think should die?" It was difficult to tell exactly what Hannibal wanted her to do; she felt it was unlikely that he actually wanted her to murder anyone, but he hadn’t opposed her yet—part of her detected that he may have even been subtly encouraging her. 

Mulling over these opportunities, she quirked her lips into a sly smile and folded her hands in her lap.

"Know of any rude people the world doesn’t need anymore?"

There was no mask on her words; it was clear she was asking for recommendations. Hannibal had good taste; he would likely be able to direct her to the right place to find proper prey.

At first, Abigail seemed a little sceptical of what he was telling her. Telling her that things such as murder and cannibalism were okay would have been a difficult thing to digest, but Abigail had seemed to be more than happy to go with whatever he was suggesting so far. Part of him didn’t want for this to be any different – he hoped that she would do as he asked.

With Abigail’s near repetition – a need for closure – of his words, Hannibal responded with a simple, “Yes.” And then there was a small moment of silence, as though Abigail were thinking through the decision; choosing whether one would lead a pure and innocent life over one of murder and potential jail time would have been difficult for somebody like her, who no longer had a moral compass pointing in any particular direction, and could very well choose her own fate.

And, if Hannibal were anybody else, he would have given a smile in response to her choice.

“Plenty,” he replied. “But for now it would be best if you got some rest, and we can discuss this more in the morning.”

While she was sleeping he would choose somebody for her, of course, if only to guide her in the right direction. He couldn’t let her know of the rolodex of business cards he kept, not yet. Abigail needed to be lost to the darkness before he could let her know too much about him, otherwise he may be risking everything he had worked so hard on.