crawford writing hannibal’s bio on the fbi’s top 10 most wanted list after he absconds with his best agent
THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS at 30
♡ “It was my idea to release that film on Valentine’s Day.” – Jonathan Demme
♡ “The scenes between Lecter and Clarice play…as if they were lovers.” – Ted TallyThe Silence of the Lambs débuted in cinemas on February 14, 1991. Hannibal Lecter mentions Valentine’s Day – and considers sending heroine Clarice Starling “a wonderful Valentine” – several times in the novel. (Unfortunately, these lines didn’t make it onto the big screen.) 2021 marks the 30th anniversary of this iconic film and its “perverse sort of love story” in the words of Silence writer Ted Tally, whose screenplay won an Oscar.
Would they have you back, do you think? The FBI? Those people you despise almost as much as they despise you? Will they give you a medal, Clarice, do you think? Would you have it professionally framed and hang it on your wall to look at and remind you of your courage and incorruptibility? All you would need for that, Clarice, is a mirror.
Because I already know it’s coming, a small PSA before Clarice starts, for those of you that watched Hannibal but are not familiar with the books.
A lot of Will’s character and some of the plot was taken from Clarice’s novels, so if there’s similarities they’re not “ripping off” or “stealing” stuff from him, they’re just pulling from the same source material
So if Clarice expresses acute empathy, has visions/full sensory flashbacks/dissociations/night terrors/sleepwalking, that’s entirely within character
Hannibal won’t be in the show, but if they do things right he’ll be evoked plenty, and either way there will be plenty of meta and Clannibal content floating around. Clarice is Hannibal’s canonical endgame relationship and people shipping it is not inherently “homophobic towards Hannigram”, nor does it diminish it for the timeline of NBC Hannibal, or any other such nonsense. It’s possible to ship both, I know I do.
If you’ve been around the fandom block plenty and want to add your own warnings, feel free.
Mason Verger is dead. Now there is nothing keeping Hannibal Lecter from growing closer to the disgraced Clarice Starling than his own resistance, growing weaker by the day.
Clarice Starling, alone and abandoned by the men and institutions she swore loyalty to, has nothing left to keep her from seeking comfort in the only truthful place she had ever known: the presence of Dr. Lecter.
‘the world is more interesting with you in it’ – A Clannibal playlist.
“How do we begin to covet, Clarice? (…) We begin by coveting what we see every day.”
Tracklist: Brutal Romantic - Brooke Fraser | Touch - Daughter | Cannibals with Cutlery - To Kill a King | From Eden - Hozier | Two Evils - Bastille | The Beast - Laura Marling | Clarice - Audiolepsia | Bloodstream - Stateless | Epic Pt. 2 - Anais Mitchell | Human - Of Monsters and Men | Mina’s Cry - Dracula, The Musical | Bitter and Sick - One Two | I Love You, But I Need Another Year - Liza Anne | Make A Shadow - Meg Meyers | Let Me Follow - Son Lux | A wild river to take you home - Black Hlill, Silent Island | Tempt You (Evocatio) - Nothing but Thieves | Superposition (Reflection) - Young the Giant | In Flames - Digital Daggers
A/N: Oops, uhhh, I wrote a Clannibal thing??
Summary: In which Clarice and Hannibal write each other unsent letters on the one year anniversary of her FBI graduation.
Given your psychiatric background, I’m sure you’ve heard about the supposedly cathartic exercise of writing a letter you’ll never send.
The FBI psychiatrist I was sent to suggested this to me sometime after I was sent to him for evaluation after killing Buffalo Bill. Never thought about doing it until now. I’m sure you know what date (or dates) are approaching. Your escape. Catherine’s rescue. My graduation.
There were more things I wished I could have asked you, you know. But then, well … you did what you did. I wonder where you are now. Europe, maybe? You seemed to have a love for that part of the world.
Anyway. Almost a year. I haven’t made a lot of advancement, but that’s to be expected. Writing transcripts of wiretaps, raids. Not glamorous, but you have to put the work in to get where you want to be.
I feel wrong even writing this, even though I know you’ll never read this. But I still sometimes feel like a square peg trying to jam myself into a round hole. When I do a good job, it often seems that the people around me praise me in a way like you would a little dog that does a clever trick. Fond and condescending.
Sometimes my insights are brushed over despite their merits. I know I’m still green, but catching a fucking serial killer should count for something. God. I can’t stand their attitudes sometimes. I know there were times you mocked, but it didn’t feel the same. It was a challenge. You’ve viewed me as an equal, almost.
The bar is damn low when a cannibal treats you with more respect than some of your colleagues.
Well, I’m not sure what more to write.
But thank you for your lessons, Doctor. And thank you for your courtesy.
P.S. I wonder if you still consider me sometimes? No. I shouldn’t have even written that.
Ah, what a momentous date has just passed. I happened to glimpse your visage in one of the tabloid rags. The headline seemed to promise that the article beneath it would regale the reader with a recollection of your first kill and the saving of Catherine Martin. And my own escape, of course.
While I only saw but a glimpse of your face in black and white, you remained beautiful. But changed since I saw you. I must presume it was a recent photo, then.
Your face reminded me of a the subject of a Pre-Raphaelite painting: wild, untouchable with a fierceness about your mien, but a strange sadness in your eyes.
What is the source of that, do you think? Are you even aware of that look in your gaze?
Sometimes I think back on the last moment I saw you. That same wildness in your eyes, determination to get what you wanted. But the beginnings of that sorrow had not taken root. We touched, do you remember? There was a … spark, one might say, if one were feeling cliche.
But it does make me consider and ponder what that spark could become should we cross paths again, and should that spark be tended to and allowed to grow into a flame.
Happy belated anniversary, my dear.