Dec 2, 2017
"you're ruining all of my cookies." "so?"
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"you're ruining all of my cookies." "so?"
Hanniholidays 2017 Day 19: Stockings
Murder socks!
It’s #HanniHolidays2017 and the prompt calendar is back (with a few prompt updates)!
HOW IT WORKS
Each day has a prompt. Simply make a work related to the prompt and post it on the appointed day. Works can be:
Fic
Art
Gif sets
Moodboards
Headcanons
...anything goes so long as it is prompt related! All pairings are acceptable (including rare pairs) and non-pairing stuff is encouraged too. The main point is to spread some holiday cheer throughout December :)
But I don’t have the time to make something new/I can’t make the deadline!
That’s okay! Things posted late are totally fine. And if you want to repromote a work you made last year that you feel didn’t get the attention it deserved, that’s cool too! Just beware, a few of the prompts have changed so make sure you’re promoting one that’s up for posts this year.
Don’t forget to tag your works HanniHolidays2017 so that nothing is missed. Hope to see your work there ♥
The Child of Hamelin
Mature // M/M // Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter // Tagged: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Modern-ish Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Mystery, References to Hannibal Rising, rodent infestation, disappearing children, cover-up, Minor Character Death, Threats of Violence, threats of violence to a pregnant woman, Getting to Know Each Other, Developing Friendships, Revelations, Family Secrets, Town secrets, Wolf Trap is a creepy place to live, Murder, canonical child death (Mischa), Cannibalism, Revenge, becoming, First Kiss, Happy Ending Words: 19630 Chapters: 4/4
Twenty-five years ago sickly kid, Will Graham, was the only child in Wolf Trap not stolen by a mysterious supernatural force. Now grown up, Will is a Deputy Sheriff in the broken town about to be revisited by evil. If he has any hope of saving the town, he must unravel a mystery of murder, revenge and powers beyond his imagination.
In the great British tradition of spooky stories at Christmas, this is for #HanniHolidays: Holiday Music (sort of?)
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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four]
Twenty Five Years Earlier ~
“Show yourself.” Jack Crawford’s voice strained with both fear and anger as he held his gun and torch together, pointed at the treeline. The snow had fallen heavily the day before and there were no fresh tracks that he could see, but there was definitely something at the edge of the woods.
He didn’t want to be out on a night like this. With the first snow falling there was already enough to do. It would be only a few days more of this rate of snowfall that would cut their town off for the winter. This year the mayor had proposed some measures to keep the high road and bridge out of town clear, but they still needed to prepare for their potential and usual isolation if it didn’t pan out.
With that, the Lecter situation and the recent and destructive infestation of rodents, he had better shit to do than chasing down what was likely a bobcat at most.
The shrubbery rustled and he cocked his gun... then he heard a pitiful voice that was barely more than a quiet sob.
“Sheriff?”
A small boy staggered from the at the edge of the woods, he was in pyjamas torn by the rough foliage, his skin pale, eyes rimmed so red that it was clear even in the growing darkness of the early evening. His bare feet were muddy and covered in scratches and bruises.
Jack hesitated just a moment before he uncocked and holstered his gun and started forward, picking up speed as he saw the child fall. Jack caught him and cradled the limp and exhausted form as the child struggled to regulate his breathing. His eyes were wide with terror and sadness.
“Will? Will Graham?” Jack recognised the sickly little kid as that of Bill Graham, local drunk. A quiet kid from what he knew, kept to himself - went to and from school on his own, smaller than most kids his age. He was the kind of kid that Jack always wondered about. Probably just become a drunk like his old man was most people’s thought - he wasn’t expected to do better than the family he came from. But he wasn’t trouble, he was quiet and polite to a fault. The kind of polite that was beat into a kid.
He was the last person Jack had expected to see out here, alone at the edge of the wood’s whilst he was responding to reports of strange noises that seemed to have the nearest residents terrified.
“The others.” Will mumbled quietly, shaking in his arms despite being burning hot. The kid seemed sick, maybe from walking in the woods at night in barely a stitch. “I can’t feel them anymore… The music’s gone…”
“Others?”
“The children… the o-other children.” Will’s breath stuttered against a sob. “They’re gone. I couldn’t keep up. He left me behind. He took the music away.” The tears came then and Jack got to his feet, holding the boy to his chest as he carried him back to his vehicle. He had no clue what the hell was going on. His first thought had been that little Will had gotten into his daddy’s liquor, but he didn’t smell of alcohol.
As Jack got closer to the his truck - the low light of the headlamps and the static, coloured light on the roof lighting the way - he could hear the frantic chatter on his radio. He frowned, making out the voice of the dispatcher as he got closer, feeling his pulse spike as he heard the panic there.
“Sheriff, please come in. Sheriff!” She was pleading over and over. Jack picked up the pace, opening the door awkwardly and sliding Will gently into the passenger seat before grabbing the CB and standing. The wire strained as he pressed the receiver.
“This is Crawford.”
“Sheriff, oh god, please you’ve gotta get back here.”
“Ok, ok, slow down. What’s going on?” He looked down at Will who had curled into a ball in the seat, looking like the smallest ten year old in the world at that moment.
“Jack, the children. They’re all gone.” The words were broken on a sob.
“What children?” Jack growled, frustrated and confused and not getting answers damn well fast enough.
“All of them Jack. All the children from the town. They’re all gone Jack. Oh god, they’re all gone… The calls, the parents are… the phone is ringing off the hook. Someone has taken all the children.” The words trailed into sobs and Jack felt a shiver so cold grip him that he couldn’t help the uncharacteristic shudder. He looked down at the boy who curled tighter as he let out a chilling sob.
[CONTINUE READING ON AO3]
Basic Chickens AU: Snow Lover
The sound of Christmas music was loud enough he could hear it where he lay, staring up at the moon and shivering in the snow.
This just got harder every year.
His brothers had women now, not particularly good looking and mostly ugly but they were women. He didn’t spend much time with them, knowing they were no doubt wanting him but keeping their thoughts quiet so as not to upset his brothers.
The children he didn’t mind, running around having snowball fights and tackling them down onto the snow.
But it was Christmas Eve and watching the room filled with people that didn’t belong to him was worse than he thought it would be.
So he lay staring up and shivering, the snow wetting his hat the longer he stayed that way.
Elias was alone.
He was starting to think he’d always be alone.
Maybe there was no one out there good enough for him and really he didn’t want a subpar lover anyway.
The cold hit him suddenly and blew off his hat when he turned away from the wind. Elias cursed and stood up following it in a rush. Oddly it stopped right beside the snowman Aksel and Danica had made just a few short hours ago caught between the scraggly green scarf they’d tied around its neck and its branch arm.
He sighed and started to untangle it.
“Stupid scarf,” he muttered, “Snowmen do not need scarves.”
When he got them apart the hat was even more wet so he stuffed it in his pocket.
The snowman did not have a hat but instead Danica had given him a nest of hair made from leaves that Elias thought was quite ugly even for a man made of frozen water.
“You are very ugly.”
The snowman’s scarf blew in the breeze and his arm moved just slightly as if it to say, “No I’m not.”
Elias put his hand on the snowman’s cheek.
“If this were one of those child movies I could kiss you and you’d become my dream lover.”
The snowman lost a few leaves and Elias frowned.
“It’s not as if I have anyone else to kiss this year. Here is my Christmas gift to you.”
He pressed his lips to the snowman and lingered perhaps a moment too long but really no one was there to see. A single tear fell onto the snowman’s cheek as he pulled away and Elias nodded.
“Merry Christmas Leaf Head.”
The walk back to the house was longer than he remembered and when he went inside all the lights were off. He got into his room and felt oddly no immediate stir of his cock when he took off his wet clothes.
Perhaps even his body was too tired of being alone.
Elias fell asleep with his pillow clutches in one hand tightly and had dreams that made him very happy.
He was still half asleep when he felt the dampness beside him and opened his eyes to see a wet naked man asleep on his pillow.
The man had curly hair, a mustache and sprinkles of a beard but he was very beautiful. He was quite possibly the most beautiful person Elias had ever seen.
He thought maybe he was in a dream of some sort until the scarf brushed against his hand.
The same scarf that Leaf Head has been wearing last night.
That’s when Elias pushed the man to the floor.
“Who are you!? Why are you wearing that and—“
The man blinked awake and smiled at him quite widely.
“I’m your dream lover. You don’t remember? Your kiss was very nice. I’ve never been kissed before.”
The man knelt up and was quite close to Elias’s open legs. He immediately felt his cock harden and the man leaned up on his forearms to get closer to him.
“I didn’t kiss you and I do not have any dream lovers only thousands of real ones!”
The man laughed and Elias had to swallow a whimper when he crawled back onto the bed. His cock was just as pretty as the rest of him and Elias felt a desperate need to touch it.
“Then you can show me how things are done. You brought me here when you kissed me even though I was made of snow. The least you can do is that.”
Elias swallowed back tears.
“You are telling me you’re the snowman?”
The man moved in closer and put his hands on Elias’s cheeks. “Not anymore.”
Elias let out a shaky breath.
“And you want to do it with me.”
The man was practically in his lap now, hands still on his cheeks but close enough to kiss.
“Yes. I haven’t been alive long but that’s all I want to do is be your dream lover.”
Who was Elias to argue?
After all, it wasn’t as if snowmen came alive everyday.
He started to open his pajama bottoms when suddenly the door opened behind them.
“Uncle Elias someone stole our snow—“
It was Aksel, who took one look at them and closed the door again.
The man in his lap suddenly said, “Its one of the ones who made me! I need to tell him I’m—“
Elias grabbed his arm.
“Not right now. Right now I need to lock the door and get lots of sex supplies ready.”
The man licked his lips.
“I feel very anxious in my lower half. Impatient. I—“
Elias kissed him then, the taste very different than the snow kiss but still as cold as he remembered. He wondered if the more he kissed his snow lover the warmer he’d become.
When they pulled apart the other man still had his eyes closed so Elias touched his cheek.
“You’re very beautiful.”
He opened his eyes.
“You don’t think I’m ugly anymore? You said before I was ugly.”
Elias frowned. “No. You’re very beautiful and very—“
The man touched his cheek and Elias shivered.
“Give me a good name for a beautiful person.”
Elias didn’t know anyone as beautiful as the one in his arms. This man had to have been made in some godly place somewhere to be so lovely.
“Adam,” he mumbled, “My perfect Adam.”
Adam smiled.
“I just want to make you happy Elias.”
Elias felt tears in his eyes.
He didn’t want to wake up from this if it was a dream.
“You already have.”
Hannibal daily sketch #307: First of our entries for @hannibalcreative‘s #WinterMurderland and daily sketch for Hanniholidays2017! Drawing for the 8th day: Christmas Light. Maybe Jack needed a hint... but looks like he can't "catch" it anyway ;)
[Here all the other daily sketches]
Thanks to @wendigoskitchen, @bcraig60 and @begintoblur for the support!
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Spoiling his darling will always be Nigel’s favorite part of the holiday season. He smiled as he watched Adam set aside his Mac n Cheese to except the box wrapped in paper. “Nigel, you give gifts on Christmas, not 3 weeks before” Adam lifts a bulb from the box, examining the planet ornament. “If I gave you them on Christmas you wouldn’t get as long to enjoy them, Star” Nigel sat back in his chair watching as Adam started to decided how to keep the planets in order on their tree.
the other woman | hanniholidays
Molly Foster, once known as Molly Graham, is just beginning to piece her world back together... until one unfortunate trinket threatens to undo her stable facade. For the prompt "Ornament" for HanniHolidays.
Read on AO3!
Molly Foster, once known as Molly Graham, had finally started feeling okay, even with the dark shadow of their anniversary on the horizon. A year after the disappearance of her ex-husband, and the clamour had begun to quiet down; only the most fervent of conspirators obsessed about the stories and theories they birthed, while the rest of the world moved on to newer, fresher horrors. With her name changed, nobody put two and two together anymore; not as frequently as they did, before, anyway. It seemed that, finally, she could move on from that black spot on her life: the spot of being known as Will Graham's wife (known more commonly as that poor woman, or in some crueller cases by Lecter's obsessive 'fans', the other woman).
At least, it seemed that way. Until she was rummaging through her attic in search of Christmas decorations, and came across a small canine ornament. His ornament. And the world, for a moment, turned inside out. Emotion surged in her chest like a storm rising, bubbling in her throat and blurring her visions. It was never the emotion itself that took her off-guard – but the sheer amount of it. The incomprehensibility of it. So many separate emotions all tangled together until they joined together in some giant amorphous shape that sat heavy in her chest: the confusion, the mourning, the fear, the anger, the horror; they all viciously fought for dominance, to the point she felt as if she were about to burst at the seams.
She sat there, in the attic, holding that stupid figurine in her hands, trying to hold it together. Her breath came in bursts, holding her lungs in its painful grasp; her stomach collapsed upon itself; her eyes burned with the inability to cry. She couldn't allow herself to, not while Wally was in the room below her. That horrible feeling of tension, that dreadful heaviness that threatened to rip her to shreds, was only worth bearing if it meant Wally be spared by the weight of the same. Life had been hard for her, but it had undoubtedly been even more-so for him, who couldn't even begin to comprehend the horrors he had become entangled in. She was the only stable force in his life. She couldn't threaten that.
She wouldn't threaten that.