#something about how another world's magic irrevocably changes you just by being in close proximity to it

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 3

Twilight

Definitely self indulgent, just a small thing I managed to throw together after a sleep deprivation filled day.

My Twilight Princess lover side definitely comes out on this one, as well as some vague headcanons in a short drabble, as always can be read as platonic or romantic.

There was something special, you think, about the way autumn came in a howling moonson of glory into the Era of Twilight, heralding the coming of the temperate strokes over the woods in flowering tones of russet, bronze, maple and amethyst in gilding gold over the evergreen of Hyrule’s eternity in warmth even as the weather turned ever colder, the late afternoon sunset fleeting in it’s mercurial transition into the hour of twilight, only matched in honor to the abandoned forests of the Era of Sky, the enduring wealds of the Era of time and the untamed thickets of the Era of Wilds. Oh so contrasting to it’s hero but no less lovely for it was a perfect balance, when you first met Twilight (or well, got properly acquainted, really, but that’s a story for another day), it was clear he was no less captivating than his homeland, as steady as the oaks and pines stretching towards the heavens and with the kindness of it’s people, was it any wonder then, that you found it easy to love the man with the loyalty and eyes of wolf to match the divine beast in his soul?

So it was why through a long, long period of trying to make the true extent of your feelings as unseen as a dream after waking hours and trying to hide just how enamored you had slowly become, that you became well acquainted with the tells that showed something weighted on his mind as you left Ordon’s Spring after washing Epona for the long road ahead tomorrow. The way his head hang just a little, ears lowering to match the way Wolfie’s would when he gently nudged one of the members of the Chain into holding him after a nightmare as his walls attempt to come back up, as solemn as a wolf in mourning.

Ever so responsible, ever steady. Trying to take the world onto his shoulders as any hero would.

He should have know it wouldn’t work on you, not after all you’ve been through.

“Rupee for your thoughts?” Your tone gently broke through the stillness of the stream as you fed Epona an apple, Twilight’s ears twitch as he turns towards you, softening as he notes the way the twilit enchanted sunlight lingered upon your visage in a most ephemeral way, shadows holding affectionately and brightening the stars of your eyes and the liminal nature of this moment and how Epona neighs, gently nudging the side of your hand for more rubs or maybe apples he knew you loved sneaking to her when he wasn’t looking, making your airy, fae like laughter free to be taken by the breeze.

“Reminiscing, is all.” He answer you, tone a low rumbling of the fall winds and like handling mirror shards into something new and beautiful as he privately holds onto the memory of your smile, holding it with claws and teeth for he can never quite be sure for how long he’ll have it, “It feels like a lifetime ago since...”

Since the start of his journey, since the beginning of his new one in the throes of attempting to settle in Ordon to lick his wounds after the lingering shaded reality of another realm settled into the crevices of his soul and marrow after grabbing the neck of the beast inside his being and biting down onto the hackles had left the injury open to bleed again.

Since losing Midna shattered his heart and killed him all at once, leaving him to live a life of haunting his own existence until you looked at him, all of him, and guided him back to life. Picking the shards of his heart and slowly putting them back together with the care of someone he’d seen mourn for an unfortunate nightingale on the road even as you cut yourself when he attempted to push you away.

You nod, gently resting your head on his shoulder, your gaze flicking to the Shadow Crystal, you don’t press about Midna and Twilight feels so, so warm, breathing out, you were both working on it, slowly but surely. Midna may not be dead, but he knew her absence left you haunted too, “Does it still hurt?” The twisting of reality upon his form, drawing from a well of ambition from long gone spirits who’d attempted to grab at the Goddesses throat, and the way the darkness so fiercely claimed any part of his he could touch. Making both of your shadows darker as the veil between worlds thinned, refusing to allow anything else to attempt a claim.

He shakes his head, gently putting his chin atop yours, “No, not anymore.”

You hum, gently nudging his chin in a sweet, adoring nuzzle, “I’m glad, then.”

You both remain on the spring until night falls, basking into one another’s presence and soaking into the timeless moment of learning to love one another as you can.

Twilight silently wishes that, just this once, he’s allowed to keep this the same way the Twilight Realm still keeps the old him.

[amydancepants-peralta]

3 or 9 from the festive prompts pls! :)

Hi there anon!  Better late than never, right? 🥺 Here is #9 - “You’re kidding, right? I’m not going out in that snow storm!” ❄️☃️💕

more than you could ever know. (AO3)

It turns out that the day that Jake Peralta realises that he is incredibly, irrevocably and endlessly in love with Amy Santiago is just another Wednesday.  

It’s a day seemingly like all the others, in that weird space of time between Christmas and New Years where you genuinely lose track of days and schedules seem unimportant.  Work had grown beyond hectic during the holiday season, in the way it always does as the stress of forced festivities bring out the worst in some people, and between the two of them they had managed to write up more arrest reports than even Amy was interested in completing.  

Today wasn’t their first day off together - the Gods of Rostering granting both of them the full week between the two holidays off completely - but it was the first day that neither of them had been roped into any plans, and in the coming weeks they had grown increasingly protective of that fact.  It was their first holiday season together as a couple - the first year of actually being able to lean in and kiss each other whenever the urge set in (which, to nobody’s surprise, turned out be a lot), and Jake couldn’t be happier.  All of the greatest Christmases in all the world could never hold a candle to the sheer magic of waking up on Christmas morning with Amy Santiago wrapped up in his arms.  To sleepy kisses and mumbled greetings, warm skin against his own until the excitement of discovering what was underneath the tree was too great to ignore and they’d raced each other out to the living room.  

Her eyes had competed with the sparkling lights on the tree for brightness as she’d opened his gift to her, turning soft with affection when she saw the necklace and matching earrings that he’d noticed in a jewellery store window and instantly knew was made for her.  And when he’d ripped open his own gift, and discovered that Amy had managed to track down one of only fifteen available copies of a limited edition Die Hard DVD with bonus features - that had only been on the market for a day before being pulled by the studio - Jake genuinely thought his heart wasn’t ever going to stop pounding.  She was a wizard, and the smartest person he knew, and in all honesty Amy could have just stuck a bow on her head and told him she was his gift this year, and he would have accepted it all without hesitation.  

(This fact only proved to be more accurate later that very day when, after all of the family gatherings were finally done, Amy stepped into her bedroom wearing a giant red bow and very little else, using that sexy voice of hers to tell Jake that he had one last present to unwrap.) 

The following day had been for extended kin - the rest of the 99 becoming their second family so long ago it was hard to remember a time when that wasn’t the case - and today?  Today was just for them, and the only thing that Jake had planned on doing was sleeping in.  

His mind, however, appears to have different plans.  

It had still been dark the first time Jake had woken up, the pressing need in his bladder yanking him from his comfortable slumber and forcing his heavy limbs out of bed.  He’d noticed on the way back to his still new and oh so wonderful mattress that it had begun to snow outside, the temperature finally dropping to the levels that the weatherman had been threatening for days now.  Far too tired to do more than acknowledge the smattering of white that had begun outside, he had lifted the duvet without haste, sliding in slowly and smiling to himself when Amy’s arms wrapped instinctively around him again.  If anybody had dared to tell him, before they’d even known each other, just how amazing it would be to sleep in a bed with Amy next to him, Jake is 100% certain that he would have kissed her the very first day they met - awkward statements from Charles be damned.  

He’d woken again not long after sunrise, in a move completely unprecedented, and no amount of squeezing his eyes shut or attempting to distract his racing mind seemed to have effect.  Jake was Awake, whether he wanted to be or not.  

Somewhere in the night Amy has shifted, her body still curling towards his but occupying her side of the bed, and for a moment Jake takes advantage of the silence, watching as the dawn’s light fills the room and highlights just how beautiful she is.  She buries her head further into the pillow as the sun began to aim it’s rays at her face, snuffling softly into the pillow, and Jake’s unable to resist the urge to turn towards her, hooking one arm around her waist and leaving a gentle good morning kiss on Amy’s forehead.

Her lips lift into a tiny smile, shuffling ever so slightly closer towards him as her eyes refuse to pry themselves open.  

“Ames,” Jake whispers, not yet entirely sure if waking up his girlfriend early on their only schedule-free day together was actually the wisest move to make.  He tightens the grip around her waist, as if preparing for an apology, and when she doesn’t respond he squeezes her briefly.  “Babe, it’s snowing outside.”

Her answer is a muffled groan, foregoing the pillow to move herself closer to Jake, sighing with happiness when he rolls back onto the mattress and her head is resting in the curve of his neck.  Like pieces of a puzzle sliding into place her arm skims across his stomach, tucking her fingers between his waist and the mattress.  With this closer proximity Jake has the leverage to slide his own hand underneath the soft material of the old academy shirt Amy uses as a sleep shirt, and he wastes no time doing so, revelling in the still-new-but-also-kinda-something-he-feels-like-he’s-being-doing-forever sense of calm that falls over him.  It’s only been a second or two, but it feels like a decade when Amy responds, eyes still closed as she moves her chin to Jake’s chest and mumbles, “Snow cold.  Boyfriend warm.”

The calm morphs into euphoria at the sound of Amy calling him boyfriend.  Such a simple word, and certainly not the first time she’s used it, but it’s been just over six months and she’s easily the best thing that’s happened to him in the longest time.  And maybe it’s the latent energy from his Christmas Eve hostage and near-death situation that is still whirling around in his body, or maybe it’s the excitement of a full day of freedom with his girlfriend … either way, Jake is filled with a sudden desire to embrace the day - starting with the building of a perfect snowman to celebrate such a glorious year.

Turning his head to the left and burying his nose into Amy’s sleep-messy hair, Jake takes a deep breath in before dropping a kiss to her head.  “Ames.  Do you wanna build a snowman?”

Amy’s chest expands under Jake’s hand as she takes a deep breath, one eye cracking open and blinking dazedly before focusing on him.  “If you break out into Frozen song lyrics right now you are done for, Peralta.”

He laughs, Amy’s grip on him tightening as she joins him, and when the room finally falls silent Jake leans in for another kiss, this time against her soft, soft lips.  “Good morning, Ames.”

She hums, a faint almost-purring sound that reverberates against him as she continues to lay against his chest, and Jake’s heart skips a beat when she smiles at him, moving her hand from his waist to run her fingers through his own messy bed hair - partially still ruffled from doing the same the night before.  “Mmm.  Morning, babe.”  Twisting slightly to check the clock on her nightstand, Amy groans and drops her head back onto his chest.  “It’s so early, though.  You rallied so hard for the 10am alarm last night … what’s changed?”

Shrugging the shoulder that doesn’t have an Amy leaning against it, Jake glances out the window before returning his attention back to Amy.  “I can’t explain it.  I woke up earlier and noticed it was snowing, and now all I can think about it is getting out there and playing in it.”

Sighing softly, Amy leaves a sweet kiss against his shoulder.  “You know, for a native New Yorker, it is truly amazing that you still find snow magical.”

He smiles at the statement, pulling Amy ever so closer to him as he does.  She was right (as usual).  Snow certainly looked beautiful - and flooded the Instagram of the hundreds of tourists clogging the streets trying to get the perfect shot - but it disrupted so many aspects of every day life that most people he knew had grown to resent its presence each year.  Jake had loved snow ever since he was a little boy, and had refused to change his opinion on it as the years passed and he grew jaded about so many other things.  “It is magic, babe.  Come out with me, I’ll show you why!”

The arm that had long since returned to his stomach braces against him briefly as Amy lifts herself up, eyes narrowing as she takes in the view from his bedroom window before falling back onto the bed with a dull thud.  “You’re kidding right?  I’m not going out in that snow storm!”

Jake’s brow furrows, and he turns his head to check the view again - just in case the light flurry of snowflakes had indeed turned apocalyptic in the few seconds since his last look.  But the sight was just the same as before; the snow still so light in its downpour that his windowsills had only just begun to build up a catchment of white.  “Snow storm?!” he answers, looking back at Amy incredulously.  “Ames, it’s like Winter Wonderland out there!”

“Winter Wonderland is freezing” Amy replies, resurrecting her earlier kiss and continuing in a line across his shoulder, heading upwards to his neck and oh, how did he exist without kisses like this for so. long.?  “And this bed is so soft and warm.”  Bringing the kisses to a stop, Amy rests her head against Jake’s pillow, tucking her nose into the edge of Jake’s neck.  “I’m normally all for getting up early, but I’ve got everything I need right here.”

It hasn’t been said out loud, but Jake knows that his dice with death three nights ago had affected Amy more than she could say.  He felt it, in the strength of her kisses and the way she had latched herself to him on the couch that same night, cancelling all Noche Buena plans to stay at home with Jake.  All of it had been completely welcome; because that whole evening, while everything was going down, even as he was telling himself that it was going to be fine, there was still one person’s voice he was wishing to hear one last time.  Her face had flashed through his mind as that thug with the cool scar had pointed a gun at him, and when she’d run towards him outside the store, smashing her lips against his, Jake’s heart had just about soared right out of his chest.  In just six short months, Amy had elevated herself to the Most Important Person in Jake’s life, and the thought of losing her had terrified him.

So he got it - her need for more moments of peace where it was just them, and ordinarily he would be all for it, if not the one demanding it.  But his body was filled with restless energy as he watched the snow continue to fall outside his apartment, and after a few minutes of his fingertips thrumming against Amy’s back she sighs, voice muffled by his neck as she speaks.  “Go make your damn snowman, Peralta.”

He hesitates, tampering the urge to leap out of bed as he buries his nose in his girlfriend’s hair again.  “I don’t have to, babe.”

“Jake.”  Amy’s hands glide over his skin as she lifts herself up completely, anchoring her elbow into the mattress and using her free hand to hold the duvet against her bare chest.  “You’re obviously bubbling with energy right now.  Go out there and do what you gotta do.”  Leaning in, she punctuates her words with a gentle kiss.  “Just come back to me when you’re done.  This bed is too big without you.”

Jake smiles, shuffling into a sitting up position and pulling Amy back in for another kiss before lifting up his side of the blanket.  “You’re the best, Ames.”  Smiling in response, Amy pulls the extra blanket Jake has abandoned towards her, creating a blanket cocoon of her own as he moves about the room.  “Don’t think I can’t see you reap the benefits of a bed to yourself, Santiago.”

“It’s still too big without you, but right now it is so. warm.” is her indistinct reply, and Jake lets out another soft chuckle before throwing on several layers of clothing, preparing for the onslaught of cold air waiting for him outside. 

*

*

Jake’s wearing his favourite black gloves; the ones his mother had knitted for him five years ago and cannot bring himself to replace, as he digs his hands into the layers of snow that have landed in the park a block from his apartment.  He studies the powder, rolling it into a snowball and passing it from hand to hand before dropping it back onto the ground, rotating until it’s grown to a decent size and lifting it back up.  Flattening the top of the bases already planted, he puts the final piece of the snowman together, stepping back briefly to inspect his structure before beginning the hunt for decorations.

His movements were quick - partly because it actually was incredibly cold out here in the snow, and partly because he was eager to return to Amy.  Borrowing a few stones from a hedging garden, Jake creates a face for the figure before searching for a branch to turn into arms.  

Not even he could fully explain the urge he had felt this morning - Jake hadn’t built a snowman in years.  It had been such an easy way to make friends when he was younger - when you’re the only kid on the block celebrating Hanukkah it can be hard to find things to bond over - and up until he was seven it had been his favourite activity.  And then his Dad had left, taking all of his happy memories of Snow Peraltas being built in their front yard, and the countless balls of snow he instinctively built up each following Christmas no longer brought Jake joy.  Instead, they reminded him of all of his father’s lies - the same few modifications of a recurring theme, heard every damn holiday and birthday.  (Next year will be different/Work has come up/My cars in the shop/You understand, don’t you buddy?)  

Soft and seemingly edgeless, always hitting him like a slap in the face.  Until finally, after his tenth birthday, he simply stopped making them.

Stooping slightly to pick up a particularly long branch, Jake lifts his opposite knee and cracks the wood for a pair of arms, sticking them into the sides and stepping back to survey his art.  Snowman Jake is lopsided, and a little wobbly, but he loves it all the same.  Then his eyes cast to the blank space beside him, and he begins to imagine another snowman next to his - this one with long dark hair and eyes that were so kind they managed to get him to spill all his secrets. 

“You make a cute snowman.” Comes a voice from behind him, and it’s a voice he would know anywhere.  He’s already smiling before he even turns around, and it only grows wider when he clocks Amy standing amongst the snow; wrapped up in a jacket, scarf, gloves and beanie with a thermos in one hand and two cups in her other.  It’s hard to see her smile, with various layers of material covering a decent portion of her face, but Jake can tell by the curve of her cheeks, and the softer edges of her eyes.  

“Ames?”

She walks towards him, negotiating the snow with her heavy boots, and hands him the cups when she gets closer.  Her voice is muffled, fighting against the layers of material as she speaks.  “Hey, babe.”

He watches her with curious eyes as she unscrews the lid to the thermos, pouring the liquid into the cups he holds and letting out a soft sigh of happiness as the scent of hot chocolate wafts up towards him.  Waiting until she’s tucked the thermos under one arm and is holding a cup in her gloved hand, he voices his confusion.  “It’s freezing out here.”

She nods, glancing around as she takes a sip of hot chocolate, and he watches as the steam from the cup dances around her face.  “I’ve noticed that, yeah.”

Jake takes his own sip, recognising the taste from the cafe two blocks in the opposite direction that the two of them liked to frequent when they had the chance.  “You hate the cold.” 

Shuffling closer, Amy smiles softly, running the tip of her nose against his before planting a kiss against his mouth, and it’s warm, so very warm.  “I like you more than I hate the cold.”  

Oh, he likes her.  So.  Much.  

She’s still smiling when they part, and he can taste remnants of hot chocolate on her lips, the air between them already feeling warmer now that Amy was here.  Looking at the snowman behind him, she nods approvingly.  “Nice work, babe.  I would have gotten here sooner, but I really wanted hot chocolate and the cafe was so busy, and - anyway.  Cool snowman.”

Turning to look in the same direction as Amy, Jake wraps his free arm around her, puling her in closer to share his warmth.  “I totally thought you were going to stay in bed until I got back?”

Twisting until her eyes meet his, Amy winks.  “Turns out the bed was warm, but my day was way too empty without you.”  Jake takes the now empty cup from her hands, stacking it on top of his own before pulling her in for another flavoured kiss.  She continues when they part, pointing at the structure.  “You were pretty eager to build a snowman, huh?”

Jake’s smile dips slightly, and he steps away slightly, resting one hand along the back of his neck.  “Yeah, I don’t really know where that came from.  I haven’t built a snowman in years.”

“You haven’t?”

He pauses, unable to take his eyes away from the snowman.  “Not since I was seven.”  

A silence stretches between them.  Amy was more well-versed in The Book of Jake than anybody had ever been given permission to be, and he knew that she understood the timeline of events he was referring to.  He doesn’t want this to be something dramatic - hadn’t ever anticipated for this to happen on what was supposed to be just another Wednesday - but his stupid heart had forced him out of bed and into this field of snow and now he was standing next to the greatest woman he’s ever known, staring at a snowman and turning it into something greater.  He’s not one to share his feelings, to let down the walls and stop deflecting things with a well-timed joke.  But nothing seemed all that funny right now.

And then she speaks, and her voice is so resolute.  “Well then.  We need to make a snowwoman, don’t we?”  Jake turns to her, face screwed up in puzzlement, and Amy continues.  “If you get a snowman, I get one too.  And Snow Amy is going to stand by your side, because that’s where I’m always going to be.”

A tiny smile begins to sneak its way onto his face.  “By my side?” he repeats.

She raises her eyebrows slightly, shrugging before kicking softly at the snow at her feet.  “Yeah.  Even if … I don’t want to say it out loud, but even if things were to change between us, I’m always going to be there for you, Jake.”

And he loves her.  He really does, right down the very edges of his soul, and it’s a love that snuck up on him completely - and totally without any of the dramatic music that every single movie had led him to believe would accompany moments like this. He loves her for knowing that, just for today, a snowman isn’t just a snowman. He loves her for refusing to let his past paint his future. He loves her, more than he’s ever loved anyone, and he’s fairly certain that he has for a little over six months.

But grand statements were to be said at the right time - not to be blurted out - and he isn’t entirely sure that he could speak properly right now anyway with his heart lodged somewhere near the top of his throat.  And so Jake nods, reaching out for Amy’s hand and squeezing, leading her over to the middle of the park where he’d found most of the snow for optimum snowwoman building.  He’s not ready to say those three little words out loud just yet, but he’s hoping that for now he can show her how he feels in other ways (including, but not limited to, Sexy Timez).

Years from now there will be a tradition set in place, the building of the Santiago-Peralta Snowman Family an important family event that grows in numbers over time but never falls behind in their rigidly organised schedule.  

But for now, there are two snow-people in the middle of the park one block from Jake’s apartment, holding hands and standing strong as they face the elements together.  The world can pass them by, or try its luck at separating them, but love will always, always prevail.