#my first time posting more than snippets in this fandom ahhhhhhh

[hiddenmoonbeam]

The Nutcracker

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin | ~4k words | Read on Ao3

Here we are, with my entirely unplanned and belated Christmas gift to anyone interested, an au I never knew I needed. It only exists because Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy got stuck in my head out of nowhere one night when I was trying to sleep, and once the idea had formed it wouldn’t leave me alone: a cursed boy, a mouse king turned grey-backed rat, and a good-hearted hero looking at a thing deemed broken and undesirable, and seeing someone lovely instead. This is the beginning of the story. I might write the ending too, because I keep thinking about it. The fate of the middle is more uncertain, though I do have some ideas for that as well. We’ll see how it goes. But for now, I hope you enjoy this. Have a lovely end of the year, and beginning of the next. 💖

It’s Christmas Eve and every inch of Black Manor shines. First the ice sculptures in the garden, followed by the fragrant evergreen garlands hanging around windows and door frames. Candles flicker in chandeliers leading the way from the gates to the great hall. And in there stands the most beautiful tree, so high the star at its top nearly touches the ceiling. It casts a magical light over the sea of gathered guests, glimmering in the women’s dresses and jewellery. The banquet table overflows with delicious dishes, and servants silently pass through the chatting groups carrying trays of sparkling glasses. 

Maybe once upon a time, Sirius enjoyed these occasions. When he was too young to attend, and could spend these endless and magical hours sneaking away from the nanny to spy on the whole spectacle together with his best friend. But that was before said best friend’s parents expressed one too many unorthodox opinions, and the family no longer received an invitation to the yearly party. Before Sirius’s own parents decided he wasn’t a good enough heir, or brother, or potential husband – or person, in general. And now at 16, he would rather sneak away and hide in the attic than play this game of performative small talk with distasteful relatives and their equally bad acquaintances. 

Which is exactly what he’s successfully managed to do. Once he’d made sure enough guests had seen him, greeted them and listened to them boast about themselves, countered backhanded compliments with his own, shot back with a smile and such finesse they wouldn’t realise the insult until later – once all that was done, he made his escape. Praying his mother would be too busy acting the perfect hostess to have time to search for him.

He’s been here in the attic for at least an hour by now, reading his book by candlelight between boxes and old furniture. It’s all calm and quiet, but for the sudden scratching sound somewhere to his right. He ignores it at first, but as the noise grows worse, probably because whatever is causing it got company, he gets up to check what uninvited guests have joined his solitude. And much like he suspected he finds the pair of rats in a dusty corner behind an old table, chewing on what looks like a wooden toy. Sirius shoos at the pests, and watches as they skitter back into the dark. He’d ask where the cats are when they’re needed, but he knows they’re probably being fed by the cook in the kitchen. 

Sirius’s gaze returns to the toy – a nutcracker, he realises. He sighs as he picks up the battered thing; one arm hangs loose, the paint is peeling off, and long jagged cuts cross the wood, both from time and the rats’ teeth. It’s not much to look at, yet something about it tugs at his curiosity. Like a whisper of something old and forgotten. With all its faults it’s rather misplaced in this Manor, where everything is clean and polished, and Sirius can’t help but relate. He wonders where it came from. The attic offers no answers.

It’s risky to return downstairs, but Sirius can no longer focus on the book he brought with him. So as silently as he can manage he sneaks down to his own floor, intending to retrieve the tool box he’s hidden under a floorboard in his room. Before he can get there though, he sees his mother by his locked door, demanding his presence downstairs. She hasn’t yet noticed him at the other end of the hallway, so he quickly slips into the old nursery instead, hoping no one will think to look for him in there among the covered furniture and toys neither he nor his brother has played with for years. It’s a ghostly room; decorated for Christmas like the rest of the Manor despite its lack of use, yet shrouded in shadows cast by the moonlight outside. The tree stands by the long windowed wall opposite the door, visible from outside, all for appearances. Everything else has been frozen in time, waiting for the next generation to bring life to it yet again.

Beneath a white sheet, a few steps into the room, Sirius uncovers the Clockwork Castle the Black cousins once received from the eccentric old clockmaker and inventor, Mr Lupin. The beautiful creation seems to glimmer with a timeless magic, even after all these years. It’s been nearly a decade, but Sirius still remembers his younger self’s fascination with the mechanics of it all. Mr Lupin showed him how to operate it, as well as the box of tools hidden beneath the silvery swans frozen still on the moat. He’s glad for it now, as he finds what he needs to fix the Nutcracker’s broken arm.

In the light from the candle, he settles in the corner farthest away from the door, not to risk the light breaking through the cracks around it and giving him away. Right behind him the moon shines through the tall windows, reflecting in the glass doors of the old toy cabinet. Close beside it, the grandfather clock ticks past eleven thirty.

While he works he tells the Nutcracker in a hushed voice about how much he wishes he could leave his family and the duties they’re set on forcing upon him. His mother caught him kissing a boy last summer, and now she insists on matching him with a suitable wife before he comes of age. Several of these young women are downstairs tonight, waiting for him to show himself again, to dance with them, and behave like the heir he is. How pathetic they’d find him if they knew he’d instead hidden away in this room surrounded by distant memories and childish toys. 

“There,” he says finally, placing the Nutcracker on its feet on the floor with a pleased smile at his handiwork. “As new.” 

The grandfather clock in the corner chimes for midnight – once, twice… but the third one falters. Sirius frowns up at the clock, the slowing pendulum. The fourth chime comes out eerie, the muffled music from downstairs suddenly quiet. 

At the fifth chime, a gust of wind swoops past, from nowhere; the Nutcracker topples over; the candle flame flickers, dies. A sparkle runs up his spine as Sirius rises to his feet, the comfort from just a moment ago now gone. Accompanying the still slowing chimes of the clock, he hears whispers and scurrying noises growing from inside the walls, like hundreds of tiny feet climbing closer. 

Sirius turns, and the room spins with him. Spins and spins, everything in it growing out of proportion while the ghostly chimes echo between the walls, through his head. He stumbles and barely catches himself against an accent table, vaguely aware through the turmoil that the height of it seems wrong; his knees hit the floor and he can no longer reach the edge.

Once everything stills, even the clock now frozen right before the final chime of midnight, Sirius stares up at furniture ten times their normal size, towering above him where he lies on the floor. To his right stands the extinguished candle, now nearly as tall as him. And to his left is the Nutcracker, the toy shimmering as the stiffness melts away, revealing a boy with skin scarred the same way the wood was marked. Sirius stares, mouth agape, while the boy, not quite human but also far from a lifeless piece, blinks back at him, eyes wide. His joints crack painfully as he moves, his motions slower than Sirius’s as they both rise to their feet.

Sirius’s head races with thoughts, one wilder than the last trying to make sense of what is happening. He must have fallen asleep – but that idea even crossing his mind suggests he actually is wide awake. Shrunk to the size of a doll, standing before a Nutcracker-turned-boy. Mind full of questions, but unable to voice any of them.

For a long moment the other boy doesn’t seem to know what to say either. He watches Sirius with a mesmerised expression, eyes flickering back and forth over Sirius’s features. As if it was Sirius who just magically came alive, wood giving way to that adorable face. Then it comes, a low, soft, “oh”. It pierces Sirius’s chest, etches into his core. Oh.

Something sad falls over the boy’s face then, his whole posture, as his eyes trail down to his scarred hands and worn clothes. Sirius knows that look; embarrassment, shame. As much as he hates seeing it, he understands the stark contrast between the two of them. Sirius in his beautifully embroidered waistcoat made especially for the festive occasion, and this boy in a uniform with the red paint peeling off. Because on closer inspection, Sirius realises the fabric isn’t fabric at all; it’s still wood, as are his hands, his almost life-like skin, even the soft curls peeking out from under his hat remain still in the same position no matter how he moves his slightly too large head. Yet he somehow feels more real than any of the guests downstairs.

Sirius reaches out, fingers to the boy’s wrist – and those pretty brown eyes meet his own again. Something passes between them, invisible, curious. Sirius opens his mouth, just about to speak, when a sudden noise from behind him breaks the moment. The boy’s gaze snaps over Sirius’s shoulder, his expression shifting to alarm. Sirius turns, and what he sees freezes the blood in his veins.

All over the other half of the room, from the Christmas tree to the Clockwork Castle, dozens upon dozens of rats have gathered, even more spilling out from the hole in the wall. And at the front stands the largest of them, risen on its hind legs and impossibly tall, a sword in hand, and head crowned with gold. 

The boy gasps, fingers clutching the sleeve of Sirius’s shirt – and suddenly the memories hit, old and filed away, of that Christmas when Mr Lupin presented them the Clockwork Castle. Of the Nutcracker found beneath the tree, and the story Mr Lupin told them about how it’d come to be; of far away lands steeped in magic, where toys come alive among gingerbread houses and castles covered in sugary frosting; of the vengeful Rat King and the cursed princess, and the young man finally breaking it by offering her the nut no one else had been able to crack.

And of course; the curse that befell him instead, turned him wooden and ugly. How the princess’ rejection made him shunned by all and cast out of society. Of the Rat King’s oath to hunt him down; the battle and love that must be won to free him again.

Staring back at the boy now, the terror on his face, Sirius’s own voice whispers in his mind from the past, What’s his name? Mr Lupin looked at him, startled and confused. So Sirius, slightly annoyed that this adult didn’t understand his perfectly reasonable question, added with a precocious tone, He must have a name, has he not?

“Remus,” he breathes now, echoing Mr Lupin’s soft response, and all of a sudden he understands the sadness in the old man’s eyes. The Nutcracker boy looks at Sirius with a similarly startled expression, and through the wood and growing age gap, Sirius sees the resemblance. “You’re Mr Lupin’s son.” 

It’s insane. Absolutely impossible. Yet Sirius is convinced it’s true – with the ghost of a nod, an illusion of tears in his eyes, the long lost Remus Lupin stands before him, the cursed boy from a bedtime story somehow alive and here in Sirius’s old nursery.

“Are you done hiding, little Nutcracker?” the Rat King calls, his wheezing voice sending shivers down Sirius’s spine. “Will you finally let me end your sad existence once and for all?” 

Sirius doesn’t know how he manages to push away from the insanity of it all to act. He scans the room, the army of rats in the opposite end of it moving in on them, and the closed door behind their growing number. Even if Sirius could reach it, there’s no way he would be able to open it while this small. Which only leaves the impossible option to fight, the two of them alone against a murderous army that would have been scary enough at his right size. Now, it’s downright terrifying. 

On the floor beside them lie the small screwdrivers he’d used to fix Remus’s loose arm. He dives for them now, desperate for at least some form of weapon; they’re heavy and awkward, and he hears the Rat King’s mocking laughter as he struggles to hold each with only one hand. He pushes one to Remus, who clumsily manages not to drop it. It’s clear it won’t do. They’ll need something better, something more sword-like, something made for their size–

Sirius’s racing thoughts and feverishly searching gaze finally settle on the toy cabinet, and fragile hope leaps in his chest. If only they can get inside, they’ll have an arsenal of swords and rifles, even cannons, at their disposal, though he has no idea how well any of those toys will actually work. But it’s something. He even thinks he sees movement in there, though he doesn’t dare wish for what that could mean. 

With a quick glance over his shoulder at the approaching rats, Sirius grabs Remus’s hand, and runs. 

“I’m not a fighter, I–I’m only, I was only a clockmaker apprentice,” Remus stammers out. “I don’t know how to–”

“I’m right beside you.” Sirius squeezes his hand, maybe as much to reassure himself as Remus, who stares at him in disbelief. “We will do it together.”

Remus shakes his head, though he looks ill from refusing the help. “I can’t let you–you have nothing to do with this. You might get hurt–”

But I do, Sirius thinks, and he can sense it, somewhere deep down, that it is true. Mr Lupin must have known what he was doing, leaving his cursed son here of all places, all those years ago. There must be more to the story than what he revealed to them back then. There’s a reason this is happening now; a reason Sirius has been magicked into it all, shrunk to fit the missing piece of the puzzle.

When they finally reach the toy cabinet, Sirius sees to his great relief that the movements weren’t an illusion of the moonlight. Behind the glass doors the residents of every shelf now stand up, joining forces to push them open from the inside. As their own rapidly growing side leaps past to the sound of the Rat King’s rage, Sirius can’t help a mad grin from spreading wide. He knows these toys; he gave half of them their personality, and the rest he learned from his brother and cousins. Tin soldiers with many a battle beneath their belts, wooden horses ready to charge, teddy bears with protection sewn into their very seams. Even his cousins’ pretty dolls gather at the rear, brandishing their parasols and purses with determined looks on their rosy faces.

They’re not alone, after all.

One of the toys hands Remus a sword – a real one, it looks like, made sharper and deadly by the same magic that woke them all up. Remus eyes it warily. 

“Do you know what’s needed to break your curse?” the doll asks, while a tin general barks orders for the gathered defence now between them and the rats. 

Remus looks towards the Rat King who swings at the first toys within reach with maddening force, and his wooden hand trembles a little as he grips tighter around the hilt. “I do,” he whispers. 

The doll gives a curt nod. “But you are not yet ready,” she continues. “The Rat King is a great warrior, and tonight you would not stand a chance against him. You must first return home, and learn how to defeat him.”

“Home?” Sirius asks, confused.

She points with her arm, and as if on cue, the Clockwork Castle lights up above the chaos of rats and toys, the mechanics coming alive, a musical hum rising from its core. “Once you’ve entered he cannot follow you that way, as those gates only work for toys and invited guests. It will buy you time.”

“But… the rest of you–”

“We can be mended. We are not fragile like bleeding humans.” She sends Sirius a look at that, before turning back to Remus. “Nor cursed to oblivion should we lose.” 

Sirius nods, while accepting another sword from a different toy. Again he scans the scene for their best option. The table with the castle still lies behind enemy lines, but the rats around the legs seem unnerved by the musical tunes, scattering away from it. Still, they will have to fight their way over there. He’s never had to fend for his or anyone else’s life before, not properly, but at least he’s somewhat prepared thanks to his fencing lessons. Remus on the other hand looks ill again; if a wooden face could pale, his would have lost all colour. But meeting Sirius’s eyes, determination still settles over his features.

It’s chaos. Tin cannon balls break through the army from a distance, the firearms powered by what can only be magic. Rats tear into the soft bellies of the dolls and teddy bears, stuffing spreading over the floor like fluffy intestines. The bizarre scenario is made even worse by the sickening feeling of slicing the sword through actual flesh, the screaming rats falling at Sirius’s feet. His hair, loose from the ribbon at his neck, whips into his face as he turns to fend off the next attack.

The Rat King fights to get to them. But the toys do their best to keep him away, shielding Remus while helping to clear a path towards the Clockwork Castle. Sirius doesn’t know why they’re so ready to protect him, or how they’re aware of his foretold and final confrontation with this vicious enemy. But it’s hardly the strangest part of the night, and so he lets his questions slide to the back of his mind, full focus instead on the task at hand.

They reach the table, wooden guards from the Castle already at the edge of it, throwing down a string of yarn for them to climb. Sirius pushes Remus towards it, not allowing him to argue which of them should go last. “I’m right behind you,” he urges when Remus hesitates. “Go!”

Behind them, just as Sirius grabs for the end of the string and the guards haul them upwards, the Rat King breaks through the defence. Sirius climbs as fast as he can, hoping against hope the rat won’t manage to follow after. But it’s a futile wish; he digs his claws into the white tablecloth, pulling himself closer with practised strength and speed. Far too soon he’s at Sirius’s feet, cruel eyes shining with malice as he grabs at his ankle, tugging hard. 

Sirius tightens his grip of the string, knuckles whitening, palms burning. He kicks down hard, boot connecting with the Rat King’s ugly snout. He lets out an angry roar, clawing towards Sirius’s leg again. But the force was enough to have him lose his grip of the cloth, and he tumbles back down to the floor.

Heart hammering in his chest, Sirius manages to climb the last bit to the edge. Remus is still there with the toy guards, wide-eyed and reaching down to grab Sirius by the arm. Sirius lets himself be pulled up, and even as the helping guard steps back to let him catch his breath, Remus’s hold on him remains.

One of the guards tells them they must hurry, that the rat is climbing again – and they’re back on their feet, rushing towards the towering, shining Castle now finally so close. They cross the moat, the crystal clear water swirling around the graceful swans gliding over the surface beneath the drawbridge. It’s raised behind them, forming the first solid structure between them and the threat. Cutting it all off like this place in itself is a different world altogether. Or at least an in-between, a break, a moment to breathe.

The courtyard looks even more magical like this, viewed from within rather than observed from above like by a god. Sirius stares, turning in a circle to admire the insane details of Mr Lupin’s handiwork, and how this magical night has spelled it all to life. On every side, figures are moving around, cogs and gears turning in their complicated patterns. Miniature Christmas trees line the roads, dusted with sugary snow and sparkling ornaments. Small lanterns hang on strings between beautifully carved columns, casting the setting in a warm glowing light. To their right a couple of wooden children skate around a frozen pond, a decorative fountain splashing water closeby despite the illusion of cold. To the left, a family of snowmen clad in hats and scarves sway to the tunes of the music. And ahead is the castle itself, front gates glimmering like a portal to yet another realm.

With a lurching sensation in his stomach, Sirius realises that’s because it is.

“The Rat King cannot breach these walls,” a guard informs them. “You will be safe here until the battle is over.” He says the last bit to Sirius, who responds with a grateful nod, though he has no intention to stay behind.

“I cannot thank you enough,” Remus says, also facing Sirius. Not until now does he let go of Sirius’s arm, and he finds he misses the contact instantly. “For all the help to get here, but also for fixing my arm, talking to me…” Sirius’s cheeks heat up when remembering what he’d been saying before all this started. But Remus doesn’t seem the slightest bit judgemental or uncomfortable about it. He’s wearing that mesmerised expression again, eyes flickering over Sirius’s face. “I feel like you even woke me up, though I cannot say how.” 

“I can’t take credit for that,” Sirius chuckles, averting his eyes and scratching at his own neck. His gaze trails back to the gold breaking through the opening gates, a strange, invisible pull tugging him closer.

Beside him, Remus adds apologetically, “I wish I knew how to turn you back to normal.”

“We’ll have to figure that out too, then.” Sirius steps towards the gates, a lot less concerned about his own state than he probably should be. He looks back at Remus, who frowns. “What? I’m coming with you, of course.”

An uncertain pause, then, “Of course.” Remus lets out a little laugh, nervous yet so endearing, before adding softly, “I don’t even know your name.”

“Sirius.”

Remus stills midstep, eyes widening. “Like the star.” 

Sirius almost responds with a good-natured eyeroll, pointing out that hardly warrants such an awed expression. But then he hears Remus’s added murmur, a whisper from the past, echoing the end of Mr Lupin’s tale.

His fate now lies in the hands of the stars.

Sirius freezes too, unease piercing his chest. Mr Lupin’s mysterious words were spoken with promise, hope, as he placed the Nutcracker with the older Black children. Three young girls then, now all of them married off, while Mr Lupin’s son remains in his wooden prison. And it hits Sirius then, that this role was never meant for him. He’s just the one the magic has to settle for, with the desired options gone. The idea of a part to play suddenly doesn’t feel as welcome anymore. Not like this, not if it means he will wield power over the outcome he isn’t supposed to have. It’s one thing to offer help, to do whatever he can to support and encourage. Another entirely to have the future of this already so mistreated boy laid into his hands, trusting him to somehow make the right choice, the one that will save him. It’s too much responsibility, too easy to fail, to ruin everything. And this time he won’t be able to fix him again, like his broken arm.

Remus eyes him in silence for a moment, head tilted. “You can stay here,” he starts, but Sirius quickly shakes his head. 

“No, no it’s not that.” Silence again, while Sirius chews on his lip, his words. “I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know what it means, what I’m meant to do.”

Something soft falls over Remus’s face, a small smile meeting Sirius’s frown. “We will figure it out,” he says, holding out his hand. “Together?”

Ahead of them, the gates stand open. Golden light pulsing within the frames. The pull tightens, whispers wordlessly, their destination waiting beyond the shimmering veil. Remus faces it with his back, his edges shining with the magic. Sirius meets his gentle eyes, looks at the scarred fingers still held out between them. And he realises it doesn’t matter he isn’t meant to be here – wanted or not, he’s the help Remus has been given, and he won’t leave his side out of fear of failure. 

So Sirius returns the smile; moves forward; takes Remus’s hand. Gives it a squeeze, to reassure them both. “Yes,” he agrees. “Together.”

And side by side, they enter the unknown.

[lululawrence]

lululawrence’s December 2018 Fic List

Click here for previous months’ fic lists

It’s December! As usual, it has given us many glorious fic reading opportunities, both those that are holiday focused as well as Louis birthday focused and totally not December related at all. I loved so many while I was trying not to go completely insane with the craziness that is also part of the season, despite not having gotten to nearly as many as I wanted to, but here are the ones that really helped me survive the past month.

The Lace That Saved Christmas by @alarrylarrie / Larrymama15 What a great way to kick off a fic rec, honestly. This fic was so cute and sweet and pure and lovely and all things good! Plus a bit saucy hehe Manda uses her words for good once again and blessed us with a Christmas fic this time. Defo a great fic to reread every year hehe

Just Say the Word by @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld I am horrifically behind on all of the girl direction fics from the exchange, but this one was fantastic. The TENSION and the sexiness from a fucking kiss!!! I’m telling you, i was fanning myself reading it and it was a bloody kiss! Anyway. You have to read this if you have even considered girl direction, because it is soft and wonderful. And who doesn’t love pining idiot girls in love?

Treat Mothman With Kindness by @lesbianiconharrystyles / flowercrownfemme Okay yeah this fic was fantastic in the most crack fic way. It was crack, and yet not. It was soft and lovely and pining again and like…mothman Harry? You know you want to. hahaha The entire cast of characters is fabulous, though. Especially the lesbian cats.

The light is coming by @pocketsunshineharry / ishiplouis Okay so like. This fic has everything I love about A/B/O in it haha It’s angsty with a touch of softness and the kind of gritty animalistic undertones that can come with A/B/O fics that I kinda adore. Louis is pregnant and a bit feral as an omega and Harry is the softhearted alpha baker who just wants to take care of him. There is nesting, fighting of instincts, and all sorts of wonderful things. A fab read.

There’s really nothing better (than a beautiful boy in an ugly Christmas sweater) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same This is another adorable pining Christmas fic featuring a meet cute, punny Christmas sweaters, and a bet. Hehe It’s adorable and cute and I love it. A completely fluffy and soft read that is perfect for a cold night snuggled beneath blankets.

The Christmas Lift by @homosociallyyours / homosociallyyours Fake dating! Misunderstandings! Annoying but affectionate coworkers! Annoying saxophone playing neighbors! This fic has them all and it’s all done to PERFECTION. I was still thinking about this days later, which is always a good sign. Another great read.

Holiday Greetings (And Gay Happy Meetings) by @2tiedships2 / 2tiedships2 This is actually the first half of the fic! I haven’t gotten a chance to read the second half yet, so it’ll probably be part of my January list, but this first one is SO GOOD. I loved how she worked the fact that Louis and Harry had not only met before under less than stellar circumstances, but things just worked together so perfectly. It’s such a fun fic and I can’t wait to see how it all comes together for Louis’ birthday in the second part.

Empty Nights by Anonymous This is the fic that was written for me for the Tomlinshaw exchange! And unfortunately the only one I’ve been able to read from the exchange at large as of yet. Sigh. I’ll get to the others hopefully in January! Anyway, this one was FAB. It was so painful and angsty and awkward and lovely but all without being too much. So many feelings and it all comes together so so so perfectly and they are truly the answer to all the upset surrounding them and how healing and beautiful is that? Anyway. It’s a really really great read, and this person’s very first fic ever! I loved it.

Her Love On My Lips by @suddenclarityharry / FallingLikeThis SO SOFT! SO SWEET! SO PERFECT! I loved this fic and the way Tabby imbued so much emotion and feeling into the words. It’s so impactful while still being short somehow. I adored it. So, if girl direction is for you, you will LOVE this fic. If it isn’t for you, fine, but you’re missing out on a hella amazing fic here.

Winter Drabbles by @homosociallyyours / homosociallyyours These three drabbles came together to tell a longer story arch and it was so lovely. Such a sweet little taste of how they are together. I really liked them!

Drabbles by @laynefaire / Layne Faire (HisDarlin) The only other drabbles I’ve read as of yet, because I am woefully behind on pretty much all reading, but these are all amazing as well! This collection holds the drabbles Layne has written for the previous drabbles fests as well as the winter drabbles she wrote, so just hop on in and enjoy the ride, because they’re all wonderful.

Christmas With The Devil by @taggiecb / taggiecb Are you seeing a trend with my reading this month? I focused on shorter fics because I couldn’t handle anything long, and JUST LIKE ALWAYS Lacey took her Satan/Santa series and ramped it up a bit more with this one. How does she always infuse so much melancholy and fear and just…full-bodied emotions into her soft and happy fluff? She does! Just a touch of this and a pinch of that and it comes out to be this completely delectable experience of a fluffy cake. So anyway. That got out of hand, but all the same, this is a fab addition to the series and I highly recommend it.

Make my wish come true by @tommosgun / Star_Henderson Listen. Shar is one of the first writers i followed in this fandom and I’ve never looked back. This fic reminds me so much of why I fell in love with her stories to begin with. They’re so fun, there’s always an emotional bond that is so strong and so immediate and the way she writes it is like exploring something new. I can’t even explain it, but this fic is defo a Shar classic that was so fun for Christmas.

Set Your Heart A-Whirl by @becomeawendybird / QuickedWeen The first of six fics from our Secret Santa fic exchange, I’m kicking it off with this one because IT WAS WRITTEN FOR ME!!! We all wrote a fic based on the same prompt, and this one was just beautiful. It was so soft and sweet and cute and funny and ahhhhhhh! A true pleasure. You’ll love it. Go read it. hehe

Do Not Falter (There’s a Star Ahead) by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry This was Emmu’s fic for Molly and NESTING OMEGA HARRY!!! Oh gosh this fic made me squeal softly into my pillow as I read it. I loved it. I’m sighing again just thinking about it now.

Twinkle Lights and Snowy Nights by @haloeverlasting / haloeverlasting This was the fic Brit wrote for Bri and SHE HURT US ALL. There is so much emotion and fear and hurt and yet love. So so so much love! And healing! Gahhhhh it’s beautiful and art and poetry and makes you just want to cuddle in some blankets. It was glorious.

You Should Be Here With Me by @dimpled-halo / dimpled_halo Jacky like… took Emmu and wrapped her up into a fic from the bubble tea to IKEA to just… ALL OF IT. Another fab A/B/O fic that is so soft and rife with miscommunications and good intentions and fixing what was messed up and just. LOVELY.

This Christmas by @suddenclarityharry / FallingLikeThis I might have commented on this fic twice and not even realized, but that’s okay because Tabby deserves all the comments on this fic. It is such a great read, featuring Exes to Lovers, and has flashbacks that fill in the back story as we go. It’s a wonderful read with just the right touch of pain and angst and just. Sigh. Wonderful.

love isn’t brains, children, it’s blood by @briannamarguerite / BriaMaria Bri went and wrote a full on Buffy fic for Tabby for the exchange!! It’s hard core and wonderful and Zayn as Spike kinda made the entire fic for me. Like, Harry as Angel and Louis as Buffy was already pretty amazing, especially when I realized Steve was Giles, but then Roman Kemp was tossed into the mix with Liam and I was just like the shock emoji the entire time I was reading. It was wonderful and such a great read! 

Forget the Silent Nights by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry As of writing this up, I still haven’t finished the last chapter of any of the three advent fics from this year, but it’s okay because I adored them all. This one was such fun reading from all the varied POVs and having little snippets of their history mixed in with the present story! I loved reading the insanity every day. You’ll have to go as Emmu how much of the fic is based on real life, too. The answer might surprise you. hahahaha

Santa Baby Honey by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren Crack fic meets advent fic in the very best of ways. hahaha I died laughing so many times while reading this and went screaming to sada about it and it was just. Such fun and so insane and great and just. Do yourself a favor and read it because it’s a fucking TRIP.

hymns for restless stars by @turnyourankle / turnyourankle This fic had such feeling!!! Famous/non-famous!!! But of course, it’s complicated. Never so easy as just that. It’s wonderful and so soft and worrying and painful and lovely and made me cry just a touch. hehe This was the perfect addition to the other perhaps more lighthearted advent fics because while it was also lighthearted, this one also gave a dose of heavier emotions too.

And that’s it! I have SO MANY MORE Christmas fics to catch up on, so most of my January reading will probably be that. Get ready! hehe Happy belated Christmas for those that celebrate, Happy New Year to everyone, and ALWAYS Happy Reading! Please remember to leave kudos and comments (and reblog their fic posts, if they link them!) to show your appreciation!