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hauntedandmurdered · 3 months

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Clannibal AO3 FF ("Can't stop thinking about you")

{snippet - link to the full story below}

[...] Something about Dr Lecters appearance was still as remarkable and mesmerizing as ever. Even at first glance, it was obvious that he was wearing a tailored suit that emphasized his defined shoulders. In the meantime, a few light strands had mingled with his anthracite hair, but that didn't make him seem any less sublime. In contrary, Starling found herself thinking that he looked better than ever. Healthier, even. The colour of his face, which he had lacked hidden from daylight back then, now resembling ripe olives made his skin look firmer and younger.

"Hello, Clarice," he broke the silence before she could speak. His gaze pinned her to the spot, drilling into her marrow like poisoned arrows. To her own surprise, she did not back down. It was the first time they faced each other without protective armoured glass or bars, she noted, yet she had the secure feeling that she was not at the mercy of any danger.

„You shouldn’t be here“, Starling said shaking her head in disbelief. „They don't just monitor your tracks, Dr Lecter. Their lack of confidence in me certainly leads them to observing my neighbourhood to make sure I don't make a move that gets in their way. This is not exactly the safest place to stop by for a jailbreaker.”

„Are you worried about me?“, he asked and took a large step towards her. She did not move.

„No, I’m worried about us“, she hissed at him. „What are you doing here? Tell me. Tell me now.“

"Is it so hard to believe that I care about you and wanted to check on your well-being? Clarice, you must have learned a thing or two about me over the years. You wouldn't disappoint me with the simplexity of your colleagues, would you? Why, that’s beneath you, Clarice."

„Why is that, Dr Lecter?“ Starling felt her lips trembling with both fear and excitement. She kept eye contact. „Why do you like me? I need to know for good.“

„Quid pro quo?“, he said softly with the hint of a smile. It wasn't one of those calculating smirks from him that she was used to from earlier times and that had made her feel like a stupid schoolgirl who couldn't compete with him. In a strange way, it seemed honest and genuine. „Isn’t it quite obvious why we’re drawn together, hm? Don’t you feel things you can hardly allow yourself to feel when I am around? And don’t you think about us in situations – practices – that almost make you dizzy with desire? I know I do. In fact, I knew I did ever since you came back to me into the dungeon after our first interrogation. These stimuli are new to me, Clarice, I have to explore, investigate and question them. I can't compare what you bring out in me with empirical values.“

Starling felt the blush rise to her face. Her thoughts only revolved around one agonising question. How many dead bodies had he walked over to stand here now? What sins had he taken upon himself to confront her like this? Whose blood was on his hands? All the questions that piled up in her mind were a protective wall so that she didn't have to face what he actually wanted from her.

„Make an effort to answer now, Clarice. Quid pro Quo“, he whispered and took another step in her direction. She couldn't help noticing that he moved forward gracefully like a dancer. His gait was as light as a feather and deadly quiet like the slithering of a cobra. She had to bear in mind that a monster lurked beneath the gentleman’s disguise. [...]

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stacybal4ever · 5 months

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Set shortly after we leave the couple dancing on the terrace in the last chapter of "Hannibal", this story follows an episode of Clarice's mild infirmity and Dr Lecter's role in navigating her health conditions. Unbidden vulnerability was never easy for either of the two. Had the years spent together in mutual respect and understanding taught them to honour and find delight in it? Or are they doomed to never know all-encompassing trust and flounder in doubt, until it makes them question the very fundaments of living? Chapter 2 and 3 of "Leda and the Swan" available 🍇

"…Since they established a permanent residence for Hannibal’s feint retirement, he delighted in seeing Clarice eat with a hearty, healthy appetite of a schoolgirl, sometimes helping herself to what she claimed to be "the most delicious bits" with her delicate fingers, a mock smile of savage pleasure on her tanned freckled face. He was glad her periods now arrived regularly and caused little to no pain, unlike the drastic FBI-induced state her menstruation was in when they were reintroduced to one another, in the true light of who they are, on the fateful Chesapeake shore. Whenever, upon their regular evening passeggiatas along the well-kept streets of the highly privileged district they were now an almost ridiculously natural part of, a dog owner would pass them by with their hairy charge, Clarice would beam at the very the sight of even the most objectively hideous pet — and the view of the beaming signora clara would normally force the walker, male or female alike, to come to a hilt, giving Clarice just enough time to introduce herself to the dog and deluge it with generous offers of scratches and caresses. Hannibal was anticipating the question of having a four-pawed companion of their own being brought up upon some strain-free dinner any day now — so brimming was she with affection and undistributed inner warmth, so ready to give and receive love in its purest forms: the bountiful rays of the splendid Argentinian sun kissing her fair naiad skin, the benevolent wind playing with her light hair whenever they would go yachting, the scents of lavender and roses being absorbed by the pores on her hands when she would be done with her part of their majestic little garden for the day and return to him, and touch him, and intoxicate him, and eventually mix her paradisal smell with his carnal, immaculate in its purity and manly one. Shapely and soft at the same time, this Clarice would induce hunger he never knew before, an almost physical thirst for the nectar of her very essence, for her texture and temperature, and Hannibal would extract the riches she mercifully offered him to the last drop — only to find the priceless vial full to the edge with every new dawn".

#hannibal #clannibal #clarice starling #hannibal lecter #thomas harris #tsotl #silence of the lambs #clarice x hannibal #clannibal fanfic #hannibal x clarice #sotl #hannibal book #hannibal books #the silence of the lambs #thomas harris tetralogy

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myra-mcqueen · 2 years

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Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and sent messages about Cometh the Hour’ and ‘Cometh the Man’. Big shout out to @tnyhpknslvr who was with it from the start!

This is the third and final (for now) instalment of the series... a prequel if you like :) If you haven’t read the other two yet, you should start there first.

Fanfiction: Knocked Up

In which Clarice Starling paces the bathroom, wondering how it had come to this. Or not.

Now posted on Wattpad, AO3 and Fanfiction.net @myramqueen

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hunterssm00n · 1 month

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Find You

One month after the events of SOTL but before Hannibal (2001): Clarice Starling is an FBI agent on the hunt for one Doctor Hannibal Lecter, and she reflects on their strange connection. | Hannibal Lecter/Clarice Starling |

also on my ao3: here

*cw mild language*

౨ৎ

I look for you in the center of the sun / I took a pill but it didn't help me numb / I see your face even when my eyes are shut / But I never really know just where to find you...

"You're dancing circles around me You're fucking crazy Oh oh, you're crazy for me Oh oh, you're crazy for me..." ~ 'Cruel World' - Lana Del Rey

X.x

"Starling. Starling. Starling. A bird with strong wings and feet, capable of flying great distances. Often bears a dark complexion with a vague, metallic sheen coating it's feathers... as if it were dipped in oil. Wouldn't you agree, Clarice?"

"Well, of that I'm not sure, sir. I don't think I've ever seen one; none that I would be able to identify, at least."

"An interesting creature - most phylum cordata usually are. Are you at all interested in the study of species?"

"Sure, I guess, but not of the animal variety, Doctor Lecter."

"Ahh, because there are different species of human, right you are. Is that why you chose to become a figure of law enforcement, Clarice? To study the sea of moral defecation around you, and to try to cleanse the world of it?"

"Mm, when you say it like that, it sounds more like you're describing a scientist, to me. Or maybe a doctor."

"But we are all scientists to our own right, aren't we, Clarice? And doctors are really just glorified scientists, schooled to understand the inner workings of something and to try to find medically accurate compensation where there is a lack. Officers of the law do this as well, but not in the biological sense - more so in the social sense. They weed out those cancerous forms that attempt to spread evil unto the world; cut them out with the steel scalpel of To protect and serve. This requires some science, Clarice. You have done your own studying of the world."

"I have. We all have, sir."

"Sir. Doctor Lecter. So polite. Society lacks manners, nowadays. It's only gonna get worse from here."

"Not a very positive outlook for the future."

"I have hopes, but not high ones for society. Can you really blame me, Clarice? What with people like Buffalo Bill wreaking havoc in different parts of this cruel world?"

"With all do respect, Doctor, one could look at your actions and say the same."

"Mmm, clever girl. Too clever. You don't agree to fight violence with violence? Survival of the fittest? You'd likely lay your body down to form a bridge for those less fortunate, Clarice, and they would end up collapsing you to climb their 'lil selves on up that laddah."

"But you can't fight fire with fire, either, sir. There has to be some sort of balance."

"And if they're not willing to compromise, Clarice? If they are not as sympathetic as you, then what?"

"I guess I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it."

"Starling. Birds are quite impressive creatures, aren't they? The starling itself isn't widely known, but it is a clever little creature indeed. Strong little wings, sturdy feet with which to stand. It also has the ability to mimic the sounds of other animals that it hears - sometimes even the vocal sounds of humans."

"This is very interesting, Doctor Lecter, but I'd really like to get back on topic."

"Does it sound like I'm describing you, Clarice? Do you repeat the things you hear from higher-ups in the department? Has Jack Crawford made you his puppet?"

"What do you think, Doctor? You've studied me at every meeting. Do my words sound like they've been scripted? Do they sound like they would ever come out of Jack Crawford's mouth?"

"No, Agent Starling, they do not. You are indeed a creature all your own."

"So if I am a Starling, sir, what are you?"

"That depends on you, Clarice. I am either the cage keeper, or the one who opens the door and sets you free. The choice is yours."

X.x

"Clarice?"

Her face hurt; felt like it was being mushed against a hard surface. The voice broke through the darkness she had fallen into, and now she was slowly coming back to the world of consciousness, very slowly.

"Clarice,"

She groaned with the effort of opening her eyes; her head felt as heavy as a bowling ball on her thin neck as she tried to raise it. When her eyes fluttered and focused, she noticed the light brown of the smooth top of her desk to the right of her vision. Lifting her head more, she realized it had been resting on the black and white mug shot of Hannibal Lecter in an old newspaper. She'd actually fallen asleep while working. All throughout school she hadn't even done that.

"Jesus," Came a female voice from behind her - probably Ardelia wondering where the hell her partner had been.

Clarice lifted her head all the way up off the desk, wisps from her ponytail sticking to the side of her face that had been covering the newspaper. She absently wiped a hand across her cheek, wondering if it would come away with gray smudges from the newspaper that were probably printed onto her face. Being so close to Doctor Lecter's mugshot on the paper, she noticed that the two dimensionality of the black and white photo did nothing to diminish his stare. It was as if he was staring into the soul of whomever was holding the paper - like he was staring into her soul once again.

Clarice turned around in her chair to face the woman whom she roomed with, Ardelia. Ardelia had graduated the academy shortly after Clarice had, and until they could each afford their own stable homes, they decided to share an apartment to help build their individual savings. They knew each other well - they'd survived the academy as roommates and knew they could live with one another (and only wanted to kill each other on rare occasions). They were now best friends, and knew almost everything about each other, so Ardelia was probably not surprised that even on their day off, Clarice was still working.

The other woman would have only been surprised if it was any other case she was working on.

"Girl, you look rough," Ardelia commented, not unkindly. Rather than suggest food or rest (or a therapist), she knew Clarice well enough to know that those questions would not phase her. Instead she asked: "Any leads?" Clarice appreciated her for everything she said - she knew the other woman was only looking out for her.

"Um," Clarice looked down at the small drool stain slowly seeping into the paper right next to Doctor Lecter's mug shot. "Not yet, today." She rose from the chair and stretched, groaning as her neck cracked from being at the odd angle when her face rested against the desk. How long had she been like that? "Any idea what time it is?" Apparently she'd removed her watch at some point too. God, she was never this disoriented.

"A little after twelve," Ardelia had checked her own watch, peering around Clarice at the desktop. She, herself, was all dressed up - dressy casual in nice black pants and a sweeping flowery top. Clarice had known she had a date this morning - brunch at a little diner in town with another agent that had graduated from the academy.

"How'd it go this morning?" She'd been out with this guy a few times, and Clarice could sense a brewing romance.

"Great," Ardelia replied, picking up the newspaper that lay flat on the desktop, "We're gonna catch a movie later tonight too." She moved the paper closer to her eyes, then brought it back down almost as soon. "He's one hell of a creep, huh?"

Clarice nodded, remembering back to the first time she had met him; the way he calmly stood in the middle of the cell, staring through the glass like he'd been expecting someone. The way his eyes lit up when they settled on hers - like he'd been expecting her.

Ardelia gave an exaggerated shudder and set the paper back down on the desk. "How do you not have nightmares?"

Clarice glanced at the photo, shrugging non-committedly, "I guess I'm just used to it now."

The truth was, she did have nightmares - she just didn't believe that he was the source. Most of the time it was the death of her father; the lambs screaming in terror as they were lead to the slaughter. It didn't happen every night, but enough that she had become used to waking up in the middle of the night, the blankets drenched with her sweat and tears rolling down her cheeks.

The only one she'd ever told about that was Hannibal Lecter. He was the only person in her life who'd ever thought to ask such dark questions.

What she also hadn't told Ardelia was that she did dream of him. Every single night. Not all of them were nightmares, though he somehow wound up in those as well. Sometimes it was simply her walking down the long stretch of concrete in the basement of the asylum; past the jeering, howling inmates in their cells. Some of the cells had lambs in them - some of the inmates were holding little lambs, and that was why they were screaming. Clarice knew he was at the end of the hallway; she just had to walk past this chaos to get to him. Finally, as always, he was waiting there, much like he had been the very first time she'd seen him, except he was much closer to the glass this time. He was awaiting her arrival, and she was anticipating the sight of him. He would smile salaciously at her, and raise a hand to the glass, pressing his palm against it. Stepping closer to the glass, she would raise her own hand and mirror his movement, placing it over his as though there was no glass between them. They would stay like that for three seconds, looking each other right in the eye. He would smile, and she would feel her lips begin to do the same. And then she would wake up.

At the moment, that dream was the most recurring in her mind. She couldn't remember what she had just dreamt about when she'd been asleep a few moments ago, but she would bet her life he had been in it.

She had to find him.

She had to find out why he occupied her every waking thought.

"Christ, I'd never sleep again if I had to be the one to talk to him. You've got nerves of steel." Ardelia commented, kicking off her shoes. "I'm gonna jump in the shower real quick. Do you wanna come to the movie later on too? We could grab one of the other guys to come, keep you company." The woman winked at her, and Clarice rolled her eyes with a smile.

"No thanks, I'm actually gonna go out myself; run some errands, exercise a bit."

"Oh great!" Ardelia looked relieved that her friend was actually leaving the apartment for a reason other than work. Clarice felt bad that she worried her so, but she couldn't stop what she was doing. It had become a mania. She had to catch this man.

Clarice padded into her bedroom to get dressed - she wanted to put her most comfortable workout clothes on. She didn't tell Ardelia that she was still hoping to find something to point her in the right direction. She had searched high and low, found a few things along the way but nothing very significant. She couldn't let him disappear anymore than he already had.

She stripped off her clothing - just an FBI t-shirt and a pair of matching sweatpants she used for pajamas. She was pulling a long sleeved shirt over her head when she saw it - something out of the ordinary. It lay on the top of her comforter, a folded up piece of paper. It wasn't white printer paper, but a cream colored thick paper, like something artists used. Clarice swallowed hard, moving across the carpeted floor to her bed. There is no way... Or was there? There was only one person that she knew of that would leave a note for her with that kind of paper. Artists parchment.

"You sonofabitch," she whispered, reaching out and gently grasping the paper as though she feared it would crumble between her fingers. Her hand trembled slightly as she brought it up off the comforter, but not out of fear. She would never admit the emotions that stirred within her - not in a thousand years. Not even to herself. Slowly she opened the two flaps so that the page was expanded to its fullest extent. It was only folded in half once, and when she opened it she could see why. There was a graphite drawing of a woman holding a baby lamb. The amount of shading and detail that was on the page, which wasn't bigger than 8x5 inches, was incredibly impressive. Not that she was surprised. The artist once told her that his memory had been all he had during his imprisonment. She knew he had an incredible eye for memorization and detail.

What did startle her a little was that the woman in the picture was her. The likeness couldn't have been more accurate - it was like she was looking into a mirror. It momentarily stunned her as she stared into her own eyes, her own arms cradling the tiny lamb to her chest. In the drawing she had what looked to be a cloak wrapped around both of them, leaving her shoulders bare but modestly covering every other part of her.

The second clear thought was that the person who had so carefully placed the note on her bed had to have snuck in sometime within the past two hours, because that was about how long she'd been asleep for. The person who had snuck in had to have meticulously calculated when she would be alone in the apartment - was he trying to time it so that she would be asleep? Had he thought he could catch her while she'd been awake? A million different questions ran through her mind, all at once, leaving her breathless.

The third thing she noticed, the most telling feature of all, was the short inscription on the bottom left side of the page, written in thin black ink.

"Liberty for wolves is death to the lambs."

~H.L.

౨ৎ

AN: I do not own the SOTL/Hannibal franchise or any of its characters. I also do not own the song ‘Cruel World’ by Lana Del Rey, or the song ‘Find You’ by Nick Jonas. The above photos are from Pinterest, and attached are the links to the original images.

#sotl #silence of the lambs #hannibal lecter #clarice starling #hannibal 2001 #my drabbles #my work #mine**#my writing #drabble #hannibal x clarice #fanfiction #fanfic #slasher community #slasher fandom #clannibal #ao3 #hunterssm00n

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marias-wonderland · 5 months

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hannibal Lecter & Clarice Starling Characters: Clarice Starling, Hannibal Lecter Additional Tags: Running, Forests, discussions, Old Age, Old Married Couple Summary:

A fic series in which I explore various stages of Clarice's life in around 1K. Most of them will be for general audiences, with some occasional mature content from time to time. Tags will get updated along the way.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #hannibal #hannibal lecter #Clarice Starling #clannibal #my posts

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elizabeth-daae · 2 years

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A new chapter has been posted. Hope y’all, enjoy.

#Clannibal #Clarice starling #my writing #my fanfic

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mandala-lore · 1 year

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If anyone were to send me prompts for fanfic, I would give your little forehead a warm, gentle kissy with lips of gratitude. 👀👉👈

#work is soul sucking rn #we are absolutely drowning in papers and I'd like to do some one shots #but you could prompt anything be vague or specific #if its a work I'm familiar with I'll try my best #but obvi im very into clannibal and xfiles and trek rn #have at it #fanfic #prompts #one shots #blog related

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antiheroblake · 4 months

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happy new year, i can’t wait to write more hannigram fanfic until i’m insane and start on my clannibal/crimson peak au

#hannibal nbc #hannibal tetralogy #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannigram #clarice starling #clannibal

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cringeworms · 5 months

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Tucked In - Clannibal One Shot

I have a new short fic up! You can read it on AO3 or right here below the break.

Rating: Teen+

Words: 1,160

It was a long day of adventure and sightseeing in Buenos Aires and Clarice and Hannibal were happy to be home. After an incredible dinner and dessert, they enjoyed light conversation and each other's presence before the fire. Clarice lay with her head in Hannibal’s lap and closed her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair. The firelight fluttered across Clarice’s face, illuminating the high points of her features in flashes of amber.

After a lengthy pause in the conversation, Hannibal looked at the clock. He took a deep breath and spoke softly.

“I regret to disturb you but it is time we must go up to bed.”

Clarice did not respond. Hannibal realized with the steady rhythm of her breathing she was asleep. He tucked her hair behind her ear to better see her face and watched her for a moment. He had the distinct feeling that what he held was holy. Her presence was always striking, but there was something different about Clarice asleep— she exhibited a certain grace that the waking fail to achieve.

Her mouth was only open slightly, but a small bead of saliva had gathered on her lower lip. Hannibal admired the sight of her wet lip but he could not leave the drop there. He ran his finger lightly along her lip, then he held it up and watched as the shiny surface caught the flickering light. Hannibal closed his eyes and brought his finger to his mouth. He closed his lips around it and tasted the faint remnant of their dessert and their wine, but it mostly contained the distinct flavor he had come to know as Clarice. He made a soft noise that Clarice did not hear. He lingered in that moment, her taste on his tongue and her weight and warmth on his lap before he slid his finger out from his lips. Eventually, he gently lifted her head from his lap and stood, he was again struck by the powerful sight of her at ease. He was glad for her peacefulness and honored at the silent gesture of trust that was falling asleep before him.

He moved gently and did not wake her as he slid his arms under her shoulders and knees. He lifted her with little effort. She made a small murmur and awoke just enough to shift her weight toward him and adjust her head. To not only watch her sleep but to hold her as she slept was an honor. He was glad to have the opportunity to know her like this, to be the person she falls asleep with, to be the person to carry her to bed.

Hannibal climbed the stairs carefully. Clarice was still asleep by the time he was laying her gently in bed. Rather than risk waking her by pulling anything over her head he decided to dress her in one of his nightshirts. He returned to the bed from their closet with two sets of his nightclothes. He sat softly beside her and gently rolled her toward him as he unzipped her dress and unclasped her bra. He slipped one of her arms into the nightshirt, then the other, and laid her down again before buttoning the shirt. He managed to resist the overwhelming urge to kiss the milky skin beneath the silk in his hands. He finished undressing her, slipping the rest of her clothes off of her legs and replacing them with drawstring pants. He sinched the waist, but only a little, and tied the string in a bow. With Clarice dressed appropriately, he changed himself, then returned their day clothes to the closet.

Clarice’s body shifted toward him slightly as he sat softly on the bed. He pulled himself onto the bed and lay next to her, as close as he could without touching her. Still, he wanted to caress her cheek, touch her warm skin, feel her heartbeat beneath his fingers as he had done many times before. Instead, he only watched her, he knew he would have every night after this to feel her. He tucked her under the duvet, then covered himself and reached for the light. He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder, taking in the last sight of her for the day.

Clarice woke to the sound of birds and the feeling of the sun on her face. Although she vaguely remembered dozing off on the couch, she found herself in bed. Waking fully, she realized Hannibal must have carried her to bed and changed her clothes, she smiled at the realization. She looked over to see Hannibal still sleeping beside her, the morning sun playing in his hair and warming his skin. Seeing him at rest was a calming and refreshing sight— she knew how little he had ever been able to truly relax before her. She was glad to have him. As she got out of bed she found her slippers were ready for her where her feet landed.

She saw herself in the bathroom mirror dressed in Hannibal’s shirt and she felt a surge of pride; it was her, and only her, who shared his clothes, his bed, his body. She brought the lapel of the shirt to her face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like mild laundry soap and the bag of herbs they kept in their closet to deter moths. Mostly, it smelled like Hannibal, a scent she could not describe or name, but it was her favorite.

The loose shirt let air pass over her skin, raising goose flesh and arousing her nipples. She took a moment to study her reflection, she thought her messy hair was charming and she liked how her breasts looked under the shirt. She appreciated the fact that she could genuinely and fully admire her appearance. Looking herself in the eye and perceiving herself was no longer a chore but instead became something she enjoyed. She did not enjoy it out of vanity, but rather a solid, smooth undercurrent of confidence she had built with the help of Hannibal’s influence and instruction.

When she came out of the ensuite bathroom she was greeted by Hannibal waiting for her, standing by the bed with his hands clasped behind him. She smiled and came quickly to him. She held his face and he brought his hands to the small of her back.

“Thank you, Hannibal,” she spoke softly.

“There is nothing to thank me for,” he responded.

She pulled his face to hers and pressed her lips to his, the feeling was bright and electric so early in the day.

When they pulled away, which neither wanted to, Clarice wrapped her arms around Hannibal in a tight hug. He reciprocated as she rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” she spoke into his skin.

“Oh Clarice,” he stroked the back of her head as he whispered, “You are more loved than you can ever know.”

#cringeworms writes #clannibal fanfic #clannibal #clarice x hannibal #hannibal x clarice #silence of the lambs #silence of the lambs fanart #sotl #sotl fanfic #sotl fanart #thomas harris books #thomas harris tetralogy #thomas harris #clarice starling #clarice starling fanart

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