#savewillgraham

Will Graham: *Is fucked in the head forever because of Hannibal’s therapy, murdered people, and lost all of his friends and love interest because of said therapy.*

Also Will Graham: *makes that expression when asked about how is Hannibal’s therapy.*

Just received these texts out of nowhere:

21:22 - “GOD DAMN IT”.

21:26 - “DAMN IT DAMN IT SHIT”.

21:29 - “FUUUUUCK”

continued from here || @alwayswillgraham

Molly sat there, dark eyes fluttering shut once more as she took in a deep, settling breath. What could she say? More than anything she wanted to reciprocate the sentiment. God, how she wished they had found her earlier, that this had never happened at all, but that wasn’t the case. The past couldn’t be changed, tea cups couldn’t come together again after being broken and time couldn’t be rewound. Everything would always be as it was.

She didn’t blame him, or any of them. It wasn’t their fault.

“It’s over now right? That’s all the matters.” she said, after a moment of consideration. She couldn’t say that it was alright, It wasn’t, and there really was no “right way” to handle this. Despite the pain that radiated through her, despite the warmth of the room, and the light that filtered in, she felt like she falling deeper into some dream. That this wasn’t real, just another hallucination, even though she was nearly certain that it wasn’t. That doubt still lingered.

“I’m not dreaming am I? This is real?”

      "It wants what it wants? And,        why does yours want me to        be caged?”