Christmas Fictions!
Christingle- for eosrose
Arthur/Merlin- Modern AU
Merlin hadn’t needed to beg Arthur to come with him to Church, Arthur had offered. But he wasn’t sure why he’d done so, other than for the smile on Merlin’s face.
When he was driving Merlin and Merlin’s four nephews and one niece to the Church with the hundredth verse of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” (Arthur hadn’t known there were this many verses) being conducted by Merlin he was starting to regret it.
Arthur had met Merlin at a work function, Arthur hadn’t even known that Merlin worked as a PA at his father’s company until he had poured half a glass of red wine over him at last year’s Christmas party.
They’d been firm friends since Valentine’s Day.
And dating since Easter.
Merlin’s mother had accepted them both straight away and Merlin insisted that his nephews and niece called Arthur “uncle” and the fact that Merlin wasn’t available Sunday morning and wore a gold St. Christopher never appeared to come up in conversation.
And then it was Christmas, and Arthur knew that nothing would make Merlin happier.
Merlin and the little Emrys terrors were well known in the Ealdor church and Arthur felt apprehensive about joining them, until the reverend gave him a warm smile and a pat on the arm.
And when they left the Church, children clutching Christingles in their hands, Merlin extended his mittened hand to Arthur and Arthur understood.
Kindness- for babydracky
Mordred
It is Arthur’s kindness that destroys him. Not his pride, his vanity or his loathing of magic, but his kindness.
Merlin knows this, Morgana knows this, but, most of all Mordred knows this.
This twisting fate that brings them altogether at this time, in this life, in this order.
It all decrees that the pattern of the world must continue to turn and that Arthur will kill himself with kindness.
It would have been so easy to let the Druid boy burn, like countless others, but he doesn’t.
So it is Arthur who burns instead.
Mordred makes sure of that.
Because he knows that the world will continue to turn and to play his part in this universal cycle is its own kindness in sort.
And one of them must be destroyed.
Life- for seablue_eyes
Crowley- In the Garden of Eden
The earth is still. Except it isn’t. And for the first time Crowley can feel it. He can feel it when he’s crawling by the feet of the angel of the eastern gate, he can feel the plate of the earth moving beneath his scales, and he can feel the earth breathing when he copies the form of the humans.
He doesn’t do it often. The angel of the eastern gate scowls faintly at him when he stands beyond the gate and feels the soft fall of rain against his skin and scales. He doesn’t know why he still has scales when he takes a human form, but there is no one that he could ask.
Instead he feels. He can feel the wind blowing against his skin and the light dusting of water against his hairline. And it is beautiful.
He feels as though this is something he ought to be ashamed of. But then the sun shines against his skin and he turns back the Garden, slips back into his snake skin and slithers up the nearest tree, laden with fruit, and smiles, waiting for the storm.
The Holly And The Rory- for sadera992
Doctor Who- Rory being Awesome
Rory knew that he should never have left Amy in charge of the Christmas tree. It wasn’t that she craved the life that they’d left behind with the Doctor exactly, but, Rory thought, if there was ever to be a woman who would go out intending to buy a newly grown evergreen and came back with an alien killer Christmas tree it would be Amy.
She hadn’t known it was a killer Christmas tree, of course she hadn’t, and at first nor did he.
They had decorated it together sneaking kisses between baubles and Amy giggling as she wrapped tinsel around Rory’s neck.
And then Rory had plugged the lights in as Amy held two glasses of red wine.
And everything went to hell.
When the tree started rotate, that was when Rory knew something was very, very wrong.
And when Amy threw the glasses of wine at the tree- Rory almost said something, that had been good wine, but was trying too hard not to get hit by one of the flailing branches- and then the roll of wrapping paper that Amy was attacking the tree with disintegrated.
Then Rory started to panic.
He didn’t want to die at Christmas. And he didn’t want to die by Christmas tree.
The plug was sparking in the wall and Rory looked between his palm and the igniting plug and then wrenched the plug out of the wall.
The tree spluttered and died.
Rory looked between the fallen tree and Amy, cradling his burnt hand.
“Want to go to your mother’s?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Sincerely Yours- for theriversdream
Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows- SPOILERS
Of course he could drive the confounded contraption. It was simply that he hadn’t wanted to beforehand, he hadn’t wanted to take Watson to his stag-do, but now, he knew that Watson wanted to marry the woman, Mary Morston. And Holmes wanted Watson to be happy.
So he drove him to the wedding.
It may well have been a funeral.
But Watson would be happy.
And maybe, that was all that mattered.
Holmes turned behind him momentarily at the sleeping body of his companion, and then turned back to the road.
“I will miss you my boy. You are much kinder to my eccentricities than Nanny and far, far closer to me than Mykey could ever be. I do not think, my dear Watson, that my life will ever be quite the same without you. I’m sure that you must know the truth Watson, I do not believe that I have been subtle about it. You are my truest friend, my only friend and the man that I hold highest in my esteem second to none. How can you not know, my dear man? And yet you have made your choice, and I am helpless to refuse you anything, as much as I object to it. So, believe me to be, my dear fellow, very sincerely yours, Sherlock Holmes.”
Naughty Or Nice- for forgiveninasong
Glee- Kurt/Blaine, mistletoe, whipped cream, hot chocolate, blankets, etc
Kurt has got a hot chocolate moustache, and Blaine is finding it hard to contain his smile. Instead, he puts his own mug down licking the whipped cream from his own lips and leans forward.
His boyfriend looks amazing in the low light of the fire. He’s so glad that his family are out for the evening, it gives him more time to look at Kurt in the pillow nest that they’ve built by the fire. Kurt had been so worried about setting their fort on fire, but Blaine had laughed and indicated to the grate, protecting the room from the flames.
The orange-golden light makes Kurt’s skin glow and his outfit - “Christmassy but classy Blaine, Christmassy but classy”- looks even better than it had in the cold lit by the porch light.
“And, Mister Anderson, what do you think you’re doing?”
Blaine smiles one of his truest smiles, all teeth and heart and leans further forward until his nose is brushing Kurt’s.
“Look, mistletoe-”
And as Kurt looks up to see if the mistletoe is truly there (of course it isn’t, but there is a sprig in Blaine’s room, but he hadn’t had time to decorate before Kurt rang the doorbell) Blaine licks the chocolate moustache from Kurt’s lip.
Kurt is frowning slightly when he pulls back, but Blaine isn’t concerned, because there’s the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
“Blaine, that was naughty of you, lying like that. Although, you know what happens to naughty little boys at Christmas time?”
Blaine smiles again and Kurt threads his fingers into Blaine’s hair and pulls him close again.
Arthur/Merlin- Modern AU
Merlin hadn’t needed to beg Arthur to come with him to Church, Arthur had offered. But he wasn’t sure why he’d done so, other than for the smile on Merlin’s face.
When he was driving Merlin and Merlin’s four nephews and one niece to the Church with the hundredth verse of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” (Arthur hadn’t known there were this many verses) being conducted by Merlin he was starting to regret it.
Arthur had met Merlin at a work function, Arthur hadn’t even known that Merlin worked as a PA at his father’s company until he had poured half a glass of red wine over him at last year’s Christmas party.
They’d been firm friends since Valentine’s Day.
And dating since Easter.
Merlin’s mother had accepted them both straight away and Merlin insisted that his nephews and niece called Arthur “uncle” and the fact that Merlin wasn’t available Sunday morning and wore a gold St. Christopher never appeared to come up in conversation.
And then it was Christmas, and Arthur knew that nothing would make Merlin happier.
Merlin and the little Emrys terrors were well known in the Ealdor church and Arthur felt apprehensive about joining them, until the reverend gave him a warm smile and a pat on the arm.
And when they left the Church, children clutching Christingles in their hands, Merlin extended his mittened hand to Arthur and Arthur understood.
Kindness- for babydracky
Mordred
It is Arthur’s kindness that destroys him. Not his pride, his vanity or his loathing of magic, but his kindness.
Merlin knows this, Morgana knows this, but, most of all Mordred knows this.
This twisting fate that brings them altogether at this time, in this life, in this order.
It all decrees that the pattern of the world must continue to turn and that Arthur will kill himself with kindness.
It would have been so easy to let the Druid boy burn, like countless others, but he doesn’t.
So it is Arthur who burns instead.
Mordred makes sure of that.
Because he knows that the world will continue to turn and to play his part in this universal cycle is its own kindness in sort.
And one of them must be destroyed.
Life- for seablue_eyes
Crowley- In the Garden of Eden
The earth is still. Except it isn’t. And for the first time Crowley can feel it. He can feel it when he’s crawling by the feet of the angel of the eastern gate, he can feel the plate of the earth moving beneath his scales, and he can feel the earth breathing when he copies the form of the humans.
He doesn’t do it often. The angel of the eastern gate scowls faintly at him when he stands beyond the gate and feels the soft fall of rain against his skin and scales. He doesn’t know why he still has scales when he takes a human form, but there is no one that he could ask.
Instead he feels. He can feel the wind blowing against his skin and the light dusting of water against his hairline. And it is beautiful.
He feels as though this is something he ought to be ashamed of. But then the sun shines against his skin and he turns back the Garden, slips back into his snake skin and slithers up the nearest tree, laden with fruit, and smiles, waiting for the storm.
The Holly And The Rory- for sadera992
Doctor Who- Rory being Awesome
Rory knew that he should never have left Amy in charge of the Christmas tree. It wasn’t that she craved the life that they’d left behind with the Doctor exactly, but, Rory thought, if there was ever to be a woman who would go out intending to buy a newly grown evergreen and came back with an alien killer Christmas tree it would be Amy.
She hadn’t known it was a killer Christmas tree, of course she hadn’t, and at first nor did he.
They had decorated it together sneaking kisses between baubles and Amy giggling as she wrapped tinsel around Rory’s neck.
And then Rory had plugged the lights in as Amy held two glasses of red wine.
And everything went to hell.
When the tree started rotate, that was when Rory knew something was very, very wrong.
And when Amy threw the glasses of wine at the tree- Rory almost said something, that had been good wine, but was trying too hard not to get hit by one of the flailing branches- and then the roll of wrapping paper that Amy was attacking the tree with disintegrated.
Then Rory started to panic.
He didn’t want to die at Christmas. And he didn’t want to die by Christmas tree.
The plug was sparking in the wall and Rory looked between his palm and the igniting plug and then wrenched the plug out of the wall.
The tree spluttered and died.
Rory looked between the fallen tree and Amy, cradling his burnt hand.
“Want to go to your mother’s?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Sincerely Yours- for theriversdream
Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows- SPOILERS
Of course he could drive the confounded contraption. It was simply that he hadn’t wanted to beforehand, he hadn’t wanted to take Watson to his stag-do, but now, he knew that Watson wanted to marry the woman, Mary Morston. And Holmes wanted Watson to be happy.
So he drove him to the wedding.
It may well have been a funeral.
But Watson would be happy.
And maybe, that was all that mattered.
Holmes turned behind him momentarily at the sleeping body of his companion, and then turned back to the road.
“I will miss you my boy. You are much kinder to my eccentricities than Nanny and far, far closer to me than Mykey could ever be. I do not think, my dear Watson, that my life will ever be quite the same without you. I’m sure that you must know the truth Watson, I do not believe that I have been subtle about it. You are my truest friend, my only friend and the man that I hold highest in my esteem second to none. How can you not know, my dear man? And yet you have made your choice, and I am helpless to refuse you anything, as much as I object to it. So, believe me to be, my dear fellow, very sincerely yours, Sherlock Holmes.”
Naughty Or Nice- for forgiveninasong
Glee- Kurt/Blaine, mistletoe, whipped cream, hot chocolate, blankets, etc
Kurt has got a hot chocolate moustache, and Blaine is finding it hard to contain his smile. Instead, he puts his own mug down licking the whipped cream from his own lips and leans forward.
His boyfriend looks amazing in the low light of the fire. He’s so glad that his family are out for the evening, it gives him more time to look at Kurt in the pillow nest that they’ve built by the fire. Kurt had been so worried about setting their fort on fire, but Blaine had laughed and indicated to the grate, protecting the room from the flames.
The orange-golden light makes Kurt’s skin glow and his outfit - “Christmassy but classy Blaine, Christmassy but classy”- looks even better than it had in the cold lit by the porch light.
“And, Mister Anderson, what do you think you’re doing?”
Blaine smiles one of his truest smiles, all teeth and heart and leans further forward until his nose is brushing Kurt’s.
“Look, mistletoe-”
And as Kurt looks up to see if the mistletoe is truly there (of course it isn’t, but there is a sprig in Blaine’s room, but he hadn’t had time to decorate before Kurt rang the doorbell) Blaine licks the chocolate moustache from Kurt’s lip.
Kurt is frowning slightly when he pulls back, but Blaine isn’t concerned, because there’s the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
“Blaine, that was naughty of you, lying like that. Although, you know what happens to naughty little boys at Christmas time?”
Blaine smiles again and Kurt threads his fingers into Blaine’s hair and pulls him close again.