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keichanz · 3 years

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Safe

i realize that moroha doesn't have a human night/period of weakness or whatever. for the sake of this oneshot, let's pretend she does.

written for my dear friend @mamabearcat ❤️❤️❤️i know it's a rough day for you and i hope this brings a smile to your face. love you!

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“Mama?”

“Hm?”

Pausing in the task of cutting up the behemoth fish gifted to her courtesy of the village headman for the successful delivery of his second grandchild she’d overseen just that afternoon, Kagome cast a brief glance at the four-year-old sitting by the fire before continuing to prepare that night’s dinner. And several other dinners thereafter.

“What is it, baby?” she asked, a little distracted as she pushed aside one section of freshly chopped up meat and started on the next as a small frown furrowed her brow. The thing really was huge. Where the hell had Kinso gotten it? Had to be some kind of mutant from freakin’ outer space or something...

“Where’s Papa?”

Kagome’s thoughts were immediately derailed from mutant alien fish at her daughter’s question and for the second time her hands stilled what they were doing. The softness of her tone coupled with a hint of something Kagome couldn’t quite place prompted her to lay down the knife and give the child her full attention, grabbing a damp rag to wipe her hands with as she turned around with a gentle smile.

Sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest, surrounded by toys both gifted by Shippou and handmade by her father, Moroha’s gaze was fixed on the fire as she idly poked at it with a stick. When she noticed her mother’s gaze on her, however, she lifted her head and turned her attention to the older woman, wide eyes meeting identical brown.

Kagome resisted the urge to frown as she answered, “Papa’s away with Uncle Miroku getting rid of some bad youkai that are causing problems in another village, sweetheart. They left early this morning.” Her smile widened and she tilted her head. “Did you forget because you were still half-asleep when he said goodbye?”

Moroha wrinkled her nose and stared back into the fire. “I remember,” she murmured with a slight pout. “I just...thought he’d be back by now.”

Realization dawned. Ahh, so that’s where this was coming from. Kagome’s expression softened in understanding and she moved forward to kneel down and tenderly sweep her daughter’s hair away from her eyes. Moroha looked up at her again, dark eyes wide and pleading for something Kagome was unable to provide.

“Well,” Kagome started softly, gathering her words carefully. “Sometimes these trips can take a long time, or even longer than what was originally planned. Remember that time we went to visit Kouga and his sons, but we arrived a day late because of that unexpected snow storm?”

Moroha blinked and then nodded.

“It’s the same thing,” she continued. “Maybe something unexpected happened that’s making Papa be a little later than normal. You never know.”

The four-year-old digested that in silence and then gave a single nod of acceptance a minute later. She still looked troubled, though, and Kagome smiled a little sadly as she ran a hand through her daughter’s hair.

“Are you missing Papa?” she asked, her voice soft.

Biting her lip, Moroha hesitated before giving another short nod. It was obvious she was trying not to cry and Kagome’s smile widened just a little. Her tiny tough girl, wanting to be just like her papa.

“I miss him, too,” Kagome revealed and tucked a strand of ebony hair behind her daughter’s small ear. “I miss him every time he has to leave, but you know what?” She waited until Moroha blinked up at her in silent inquiry before assuring, “I bet he’s on his way home right now. He knows what tonight is, baby, and we both know that he’ll do anything in his power to make it in time. He hasn’t missed a single one yet; I doubt today will be the time he does.”

She smoothed back Moroha’s bangs and smiled again, hopping to assuage her lingering doubts, but when there was no change in Moroha’s expression, Kagome was starting to wonder if this went a little deeper than she’d originally thought. Her smile dimmed and her brow furrowed with concern as her eyes roved her cherubic face.

“Moroha? What’s wrong, sweetie?” Kagome settled down beside her and dropped her hand to rub up and down her back.

Moroha squirmed a bit, worried her bottom lip, and when she lifted her head once again to meet her gaze, Kagome abruptly sucked in a sharp breath at the look on her daughter’s face. There was genuine worry etched clearly on those dear features, her little brow furrowed as she continued to bite down on her lip. But what truly broke her heart was the honest to god fear that swam in those beloved eyes, so like her own, and Kagome’s chest constricted.

If she hadn’t already accurately guessed the true reason for her upset, Moroha’s next words solidified her suspicions.

“If Papa’s not here,” her little girl began and the audible tremble in her voice had a very real ache developing in Kagome’s chest. “T-then who’s gonna protect me? It’s not safe without Papa here...right?”

With every word that Moroha said, the knife dug a little deeper into her heart and Kagome felt the burn of tears prickling the back of her eyes. Her throat suddenly felt tight and she swallowed several times to dislodge the lump that had formed there, but to no avail. God, their little girl really thought she wasn’t safe without her father here to defend them, and while Kagome should have felt a little offended and insulted that she apparently couldn't rely on her mother to protect her, she also understood where she was coming from. Out of the two of them, Inuyasha was obviously the strongest and Moroha had witnessed him on numerous occasions effortlessly dispatching some rogue youkai that had the balls big enough to enter the village, or when they were traveling and they were unexpectedly attacked. Kagome herself contributed with arrows if necessary, but tasked with keeping their daughter safe from harm, she hardly assisted most of the time and let her more than capable husband deal with the threat himself.

So it stood to reason at her young age Moroha would believe if her strong papa wasn’t around to protect her, she wasn’t safe. So no, Kagome didn't fault her one bit. If anything she blamed herself for allowing her to think she wasn’t safe with her own mother, but she sought to rectify that right now.

“Oh, Moroha,” Kagome murmured and swallowed again as she reached for her daughter and pulled her into her lap. “Oh, baby, no. No, don’t ever think that you’re not safe, okay? Mama will protect you, no matter what.”

Small hands fisted in her robes as Moroha curled herself up against her with a quiet sniffle. Kagome held her close, crossing her legs and settling her daughter into the cradle of them as she gently rocked her, pressing her face into her hair and kissing her head.

“Sweetheart,” Kagome began and pulled back enough to gently cup Moroha’s face in her hands, urging her gaze to meet her own. Her heart nearly broke at the tear tracks on her cheeks and tenderly Kagome wiped them away with her thumbs as she offered a trembling but reassuring smile.

“Moroha, just because your father’s not here doesn’t mean that you’re not safe, okay? I’m here, and I promise I will always protect you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, ever. And you have Aunt Sango, Uncle Miroku, Kohaku, and even Grandma Kaede. They all love you just as much as your father and I and I know they would protect you too, if something were to happen when your father isn’t here. So don’t ever doubt that you’re not safe, okay, my love? I’ll protect you. I promise.”

She sealed her promise with a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, as much an act of comfort as it was to hide her cracking facade. Kagome closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to stave off the tears she could feel building behind her eyes, her arms tightening around her precious little girl.

“Promise?” Moroha whispered a minute later and Kagome’s heart constricted again.

“I promise,” Kagome repeated and rained kisses upon her daughter’s face until soft, watery giggles reached her ears. Smiling in relief, Kagome leaned back and smoothed a wayward strand of raven hair away from Moroha’s face.

“Do you understand?” Kagome gently pressed, needing to hear her say it. “You’re always safe here, Moroha. No matter what. Okay?”

Sniffling once, Moroha looked up at her with great brown eyes, nodded, and Kagome was gratified to see that the fear and worry had left her face. She heaved a mental sigh of relief and couldn't stop herself from pressing one last kiss to her forehead.

“Okay, Mama,” the quarter-youkai said. “I understand.” She paused. “Does that mean Papa will be back soon?”

Kagome could have laughed. “I’m sure Papa will be back before you know it,” she assured and tapped her daughter’s nose. She was rewarded with another giggle. “Now there’s still a couple hours until dinner time, so why don’t you go outside and find the twins to play? They were here looking for you earlier when you were taking a nap.”

Finally, finally her little girl gifted her with a brilliant smile and several enthusiastic nods of her head. “Okay!”

Hopping to her feet, Moroha placed a wet kiss on her mother’s cheek before bounding out of their home, shouting for Kin’u and Gyokuto at the top of her lungs.

Blowing out a breath, Kagome slumped back onto her hands and let her head fall back onto her shoulders as she closed her eyes now that that crisis was averted.

“Alright, dogboy,” Kagome muttered a minute later as she climbed to her feet. “You’d better be on your way here right this second or so help me god…”

Sighing, Kagome wrinkled her nose, shook her head, and got back to cutting up the gargantuan fish for that night’s dinner, however this time her thoughts centered around her hanyou husband and their daughter rather than alien fish from outer space.

Hours later, just before sunset, Kagome was outside hanging up laundry on the clothes line she’d had Inuyasha construct for her and there was still no sign of said hanyou anywhere. Of course it wasn’t particularly unusual for him to be so late, but she was more worried about Moroha when she’d come inside for dinner and discover that her father still had not returned.

With a frown and unable to shake off the anxious feeling that had taken root in her gut, Kagome pinned one of Moroha’s tiny kosodes to the line and worried her bottom lip as she straightened out the fabric. She knew her husband, knew he’d made a silent vow to himself to always be here during this particular night because he never wanted his daughter to feel as he had in his own youth. She was positive he’d do everything in his power to make it in time, just as she’d claimed to Moroha hours earlier, so she refused to entertain the thought that he was lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding and unconscious and helpless--

“When I get my hands on you dogboy…” Kagome muttered darkly to herself as she just a little viciously tossed one said dogboy’s kosodes onto the line.

“Sounds promising,” a familiar voice rumbled in her ear as strong arms circled her waist from behind and Kagome gasped.

Dropping the pair of hakama in her hand, Kagome spun around and was greeted with the sight of warm amber eyes and a fanged grin. Momentarily forgetting her ire toward her husband, Kagome beamed and threw her arms around his neck to pull him into a long welcome-home kiss that he eagerly reciprocated.

“Mmm,” Inuyasha hummed against her lips and stole another kiss. “Miss me, wench?”

“Hmm…” Nuzzling his nose with hers, Kagome smiled and dug her fingers into his hair to cup the back of his neck. “Maybe. You had me worried for a minute there, dogboy. You’re late.”

“Mm.” Inuyasha grunted and buried his face in his wife’s neck, inhaling her scent and holding her for a minute, relishing the feel of her in his arms. Granted, it had only been just that morning when he left his family, but he hated being apart from them for any stretch of time.

Happy to have her beloved hanyou home, safe and in one piece, Kagome sighed and simply held her husband, letting him breath her in, relax, and wind down after what she assumed was a successful slaying mission and the long journey home. She smiled; she knew he’d make it.

Even if he was cutting it a little close this time and giving her premature gray hairs.

“What happened?” she questioned after another minute or so, knowing he had to have some explanation as to why he got back so late.

Heaving a sigh, Inuyasha reluctantly pulled away but kept his arms wrapped loosely around her waist. “It was definitely unexpected. The ‘youkai’ that was terrorizing the village actually turned out to be a forest deity trapped in a curse and after finding this out, me and the monk had to travel all over hell just to find out what happened. Long story short, we talked to about twenty different people to find out how to break it, used a boat to get to some small ass island in the middle of nowhere, uncovered a buried artifact, and smashed it to bits.”

Kagome stared up at him with wide eyes, not expecting such a turn of events. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Was the deity freed?”

He shrugged. “Assume so. When we got back to the village to collect the payment - the monk’s insistence, not mine - it was nowhere to be seen, and a few miles away there was a large area with blown back trees and scorched earth.”

Shaking her head, Kagome nonetheless accepted the explanation and tipped him a smile, lifting a hand to seize a furry ear and rub the soft flesh. She was immediately rewarded with a low rumble of approval and her smile widened.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re home,” she said and Inuyasha gave her one of his rare smiles, the one he reserved only for her and his daughter. And speaking of…

“She missed you,” Kagome murmured. Then she paused, and Inuyasha must have seen something in her expression because he frowned slightly.

“What happened?” he prodded and Kagome sighed before giving him a condensed version of what had happened earlier.

Predictably Inuyasha did not react well to the news, his ears flattening into his hair and the guilt was writ clear as day on his face. He grimaced and Kagome smiled a little wryly as she switched to his other ear, seeking to comfort him.

“Stop,” she said before his thoughts could get away from him and was expecting the scowl that crossed his features. She shook her head. “You’re here now. You didn’t break your promise and that’s what matters.”

As she continued to massage his ear, Inuyasha’s scowl gradually lessened until he was glaring a tad mulishly at his wife and her cheeky grin told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

“I hate it when you do that,” he grumbled and then sighed, his expression relaxing.

“No you don’t,” Kagome chirped and Inuyasha snorted. Laughing softly, she released his ear and reluctantly stepped out of his embrace.

“She outback?” he asked as he let his arms drop to his sides, his nose confirming what he'd just asked seconds before his wife answered him.

“Last I checked on her,” Kagome replied and stooped to pick up the hakama she’d dropped.

Inuyasha grunted his acknowledgment then caught her chin to pull her into one last lingering kiss. And another. And another. Until finally Kagome giggled and had to push him away and he brushed by her with a low chuckle.

Walking around their home toward what could be considered a backyard of sorts, Inuyasha found his daughter as he knew he would, kneeling barefoot in the dirt and constructing...something out of rocks, sticks, and what looked like several of Sango’s missing dishware.

He withheld a snort of amusement and crossed his arms as he leaned against their hut, a smile lifting the corners of his lips despite himself. His child was a little thief and he wasn’t sure if he should be proud of her apparent stealth or disappointed at her...well, thievery.

Oblivious to her father’s presence behind her - unsurprising given the time of day - Moroha continued to build whatever it was she was making, humming quietly to herself as she stacked the clay bowls, now covered in dirt, on top of the rocks and filled them with pebbles. She muttered something about bugs having somewhere to sleep and now Inuyasha wondered if he should be worried instead of proud or disappointed.

He was content to watch her for another few minutes as the sun sank lower into the sky until finally he decided to make his presence known.

“Whatcha buildin’ there, kiddo?”

Gasping, Moroha shot to her feet and spun around so fast she knocked down her rock, bowl, and stock formation but she hardly noticed. Spotting the figure clad in red cleaning casually against the wall of their home, grinning at her with warm honey eyes, the quarter-youkai released a squeal of pure delight and darted towards him with a mile-wide smile spreading across her face.

“Papa!” she shrieked and Inuyasha knelt down just in time to catch her in his arms as she barreled into them.

Holding her tight against him, Inuyasha stood with her in his arms and buried his nose in her hair, breathing in his little girl’s scent and letting it wash away the last of the tension that seized his muscles. Kagome’s soothing scent was only half of what he needed; his Moroha completed him in ways he hadn't even known he needed until she was born.

“I missed you,” Moroha murmured into his shoulder, her small arms locked tight around his neck and Inuyasha closed his eyes as he tightened his arms around her.

“Missed you too, babygirl,” he rumbled and kissed her temple. “Sorry I’m late. Forgive me?”

She nodded against his shoulder, refusing to relinquish her hold or pull away even an inch.

“I’ll always be here to protect you, Moroha,” Inuyasha vowed, his voice a low, earnest rumble. “No matter what, I’ll keep you and your mom safe. Now I need you to do something for me, okay?”

Moroha shifted against him and turned her head so she could peer up at his face with wide eyes, dark and beautiful just like her mother’s. She nodded once, always happy to do something for her papa whenever he asked.

Inuyasha nodded in approval. “If there ever comes a time that I’m not here and the village is in danger, I need you to trust your mom to keep you safe. She’ll do anything to protect you, just like I will, so you never have to worry about not being safe. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

His daughter blinked up at him, her eyes wide and slightly awed, but then her little face grew solemn and she nodded again, lifting a wee hand to gently pat his cheek.

“Okay, Papa,” Moroha agreed and he caught her small hand in his own. “I can do that. I know Mama will protect me, just like you do, and Aunt Sango, and Uncle Miroku, and Kohaku, and Gramma Kaede.”

Inuyasha smiled down at his little girl and pressed a kiss to her hand. “That’s my girl,” he murmured and Moroha gifted him with a brilliant smile, happy that she made her papa happy.

“Alright,” he said, sniffing the air once, twice. “I think your mama’s got dinner ready, so how about we go inside and get some grub? Dunno about you, but I’m starving.”

He tried to eat her hand to prove just how starving he was and Moroha’s gleeful laughter echoed into the night as the sun finally sank below the horizon.

Kagome looked up as her husband walked into their home with their fully human child in his arms and she smiled at them both before walking over to smother her daughter in kisses just to hear her laugh. Inuyasha took the opportunity to steal another kiss of his own from his wife before all three of them settled down by the fire to eat the seasoned fish and rice and the parents were content to listen to their daughter fabricate a story about the humongous fish the headman had given them.

Later, dinner put away, the fire crackling softly below a gently bubbling kettle for tea, Inuyasha sat against the wall with his daughter fast asleep in his arms and wrapped securely in his suikan. The only noticeable difference of the loss of her youkai blood was the lack of claws and fangs, but otherwise she looked completely the same.

Clawed fingers tenderly brushed away tendrils of onyx hair as golden eyes stared down at the slumbering child, wondering, soft, the love he felt for her so obvious it nearly put Kagome in tears. She didn’t bother offering to put her to bed; if he’d wanted, Inuyasha could have done that himself so she knew he was content to sit there holding their sleeping daughter and honestly, she couldn't blame him. Kagome loved holding her, too, but watching her husband as he caressed their daughter’s face, brushing back her hair, staring so lovingly at her as she slept on...it was truly an experience and she had to wonder if Inuyasha felt similarly when watching her hold their daughter.

Abandoning the cup of tea she was in the middle of making, Kagome crawled over to them and cozied up against her husband’s side. Inuyasha shifted and tugged her closer with an arm around her shoulders, dropping a kiss to her head as Kagome let it rest on his shoulder with a content sigh.

Together they watched the steady rise and fall of Moroha’s chest, listened to her even breathing, reveled in the powerful, overwhelming love they had for her and for each other as they sat in their home, warm, happy, and most importantly, safe.

#safe #inukag #inukag fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #kagome #moroha #oneshot #keizfanfiction

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

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Christmas Together / Scarlet Ribbons.

kicking off the christmas season with some highly indulgent hcs ! i’m also planning to write mini scenarios of getting caught under the mistletoe with each bucci gang member ehehe

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

Bruno Bucciarati;

It’s likely that Bruno will be the one you spend your first Christmas in Italy with. He’ll do everything that he can to make it a memorable experience for you, from taking you sightseeing to offering to spend the day together. His emphasis is always on the togetherness the season is meant to bring, so he’ll do what he so you never feel lonely or homesick.

When you’re dating, he’ll ask to take you to his hometown on the sea during the holiday season. Bruno wants to show you, the most important person in his life, where he had made beloved childhood memories. Of course, this includes treating you to meals and a stay in a luxury hotel. Bruno’s overjoyed to share this aspect of himself with you, an innocence that he long thought departed from him. You get to create new memories and reminiscence on old ones together.

The most likely from everyone here to propose during the holiday season. It feels fitting somehow, after sharing this much about himself and his ideals, that you two could eternally be tied together. Should you say yes, Bruno would obviously be elated, holding you so tight without intending to let go for as long as you should indulge him. Afterward, he’d bring you to the area his father is buried, saying that he’s now in good hands with you.

What Bruno would get you: A ring, whether it be an engagement ring or just a token of his love until you’ll have him as your husband. It’d likely cost a small fortune, a gold twist ring with a diamond in the center.

What Bruno would like from you: Honestly, this man needs a week or so away. Of course with you to sweeten to deal. Promise him a cruise and he’ll be putty in your hands.

Giorno Giovanna;

Growing up, Giorno never got to truly celebrate Christmas, only learning about it in school. Due to that, he’s knowledgeable about the holiday but doesn’t feel a real connection to it. His newfound enthusiasm would come from getting to watch you enjoy the various activities. He does his best to create more time in his busy schedule as not to miss out on this time meant to be spent with those dearest to him.

He would honestly melt if you brought him hot chocolate while he’s working in his office. It’s a small but touching gesture that warms his heart, it feels so surreal to him to have someone who loves him as much as you do. Giorno will invite you to stay with him so that the two of you can sit on the couch together, setting his work aside as he by far favors your company. Might get a bit mischievous and dab away the whipped cream you get on your face, leaning in closer than necessary with a sly smile.

Gold Experience Requiem is something of a sentient Stand, but still closely reflects Giorno’s wishes that he keeps locked away. While the two of you are walking somewhere, his Stand will imbue life into a nearby object, creating mistletoe that hangs above your heads. Giorno would bashfully apologize for his Stand’s behavior, only to be pleasantly surprised when you go on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He will be thinking about this moment for the rest of the week, god, your lips are so soft and feel so nice.

What Giorno would get you: Everything . No, but really, Giorno is going to want to spoil you even more than usual. You look at something in a window for .00001 seconds and it’s going to be wrapped up and given to you. Somebody stop this man .

What Giorno would like from you: Poor boy probably hasn’t ever gotten a Christmas present before, so anything would touch his heart. Giorno would love anything handmade or with sentimental value. A scrapbook or photos would be treasured.

Guido Mista;

Mista has honestly never really thought this time of year is anything special, not that he doesn’t enjoy it. He’s just never been big into holidays and stuff. Experiencing all these things with you changes his tune towards it though, it makes it all the more special. Every cheesy couple activity under the sun is going to be done with him, a goofy grin on his face. He’s so in love and can’t wait to make dumb memories together.

For some reason, he’s oddly determined to make a gingerbread man house with you. The gingerbread man cookies he decorates look a little off, their proportions funny and icing smeared everywhere. If you can’t hold back your laughter at the nightmarish looking creatures, he’s going to smear icing on your face, so beware. Mista will lick it off before running away from your wrath.

Sex Pistols get included in the celebration too of course. They’d be over the moon should you make cookies that look like them, though if you look away for a second too long, they’re still going to eat them. Most of your cooking consists of Mista trying to shoo away Pistols while you’re doing a majority of the work lmao. Number Five does his best to help! He’ll turn the recipe book’s pages for you and offer to help decorate. It’s super precious.

What Mista would get you: Ugly sweaters that he thinks are cool looking and literally everything on your wishlist. He spends all day wrapping your dozens of presents with Pistols pitching in.

What Mista would like from you: Mista is an easygoing guy, so he’d love basically anything. Put a bow on your head and say you’re his gift and it’ll really get him going. ; )

Pannacotta Fugo;

Fugo doesn’t associate Christmas with warm and fuzzy memories. He remembers all the dreadful socialite parties his parents would drag him to, how he was forced into uncomfortable tuxedos for hours, pretending like they were a happy family. With you in life his now, he’s willing to give it another go, but would need some encouragement. Fugo would only be doing it for your sake since he’s so whipped for seeing you happy. <3

Would love walking hand in hand with you through Via San Gregorio Armeno, taking in the remarkable craftsmanship of the nativity scenes. Fugo will visibly light up at the chance to impress you with his knowledge. He excitedly goes into rambles about the history of various things, from saints to traditions that were born in Naples. He’ll have a cute flush on his cheeks when he finishes speaking, realizing how you’re able to get him to talk so much. It’s precious.

Fugo is very insistent that you bundle up during this wintery season. Before you leave to go anywhere, he’s mumbling that you’re going to catch a cold, throwing scarves over you. He would never admit it, but the sight of you all bundled up with cheeks flushed from the cold is literally the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life. Don’t point out his staring, or he’ll get sulky.

What Fugo would get you: Fugo would fret over getting a gift you’d like. He’d go somewhat old fashioned, getting you a beautiful necklace that has your birthstone in the middle.

What Fugo would like from you: Attention. No, but really, he loves learning, get him some books on a topic he recently got interested in and he’ll be over the moon. Especially if you write a little note for him, he’d ascend.

Narancia Ghirgha;

Narancia is practically vibrating in excitement over getting to spend this time with you. He’ll tell you all the stuff he wants to do, enthusiastically waving his arms around, though it’s unlikely you’ll be able to do everything he wants. Narancia is going to be glued to your hip, ready to experience all the mushy couple stuff he can. He’s a bit clingy during this time, but indulge him, he hasn’t had good Christmas memories since his mom was alive and healthy.

God bless your soul if it snows . You probably already expect as much from him at this point, but he’s going to be throwing snowballs at you, laughing and running around when you pout at him. Narancia has a competitive streak, so throwing them back will incite a wild snowball fight. It’s all fun and games until he breaks out Aerosmith to attack your snow fort, then you’re having to reprimand him for using his Stand. >:((

He’ll tell you what it was like being in a detention center during Christmas, opening up more about his past. While he doesn’t seem to recount the time with obvious pain, you know him well and can tell when he’s hurting. Narancia would honestly consider proposing to you on the spot when you comfort him, saying that he’ll never have to spend this time of year alone now that he has you. It’s a sweet moment that he’ll literally never forget.

What Narancia would get you: Narancia would spend days making a custom mixtape, full of songs that you both love!!! He’d accompany the CD with bags of candy, bashfully offering to feed it to you.

What Narancia would like from you: If you wrote a song for him, he would probably cry from happiness. Narancia would be clapping like a madman when you finished singing it, saying it’s the best thing he’s ever heard in his life, and fully meaning it too.

Leone Abbacchio;

From an outsider’s perspective, one might expect Abbacchio to take a Grinch-like approach towards Christmas, but he’s surprisingly fine with it. Aside from loud caroling. He’ll make his displeasure for that known. It’s kind of always been just another month for him, but for your sake, he’ll make an effort to do whatever you please. Abbacchio grumbles as you drag him from place to place, but he’s literally melting on the inside at your cute enthusiasm. :’)

Abbacchio would forever imprint the sight of you in the snow into his memory. He watches the snowflakes dance around you, falling into your hair and glistening beautifully. While you’re going around trying to catch the snow, he allows himself this single happiness, silently wondering if he deserves it after everything he’s done. Before the negative thoughts can fester, you call him over, asking to make snow angels together. He doesn’t do it, he’ll just watch you having fun lmao.

You actually managed to convince him to wear matching sweaters, but not without a fair share of puppy eyes. Abbacchio is inclined to give in to most of your whims and this time is no different. Of course, he’ll only do it if no one is around, to save his honor. He’d enjoy having an arm wrapped around you by the fireplace, closing his eyes in contemplation. He feels immense gratitude to your presence in his life.

What Abbacchio would get you: Similar to Fugo, Abbacchio would feel worried about getting a good gift. He knows he can be prickly at times and feels this would be an opportunity to showcase his love for you. Eventually settles on a night out at your favorite restaurant and gifts you a bracelet at the end.

What Abbacchio would like from you: Your hand in marriage, he’d appreciate simple little things with lots of thought put into them. Making him breakfast, getting him a pair of shoes that goes with one of his outfits, stuff like that.

Trish Una;

Trish lives for all the cute couple-y stuff that you two can do during this season. Even if she won’t admit it outright, you can sense her excitement, but she’ll pout if you point it out. She’s not much for baking usually but will want to make cookies with you on the weekends as a date. Trish especially likes decorating them and gets super focused on getting the details perfect.

You two go on so many shopping trips. Trish will be holding your hand, taking you from store to store, trying on clothes together. She loves giving you recommendations based on what would complement your body type, you’ll be dressed to perfection at the end of the day. Trish doesn’t even bother looking at the price tags, she just picks what looks good and keeps going lmao.

In your downtime together, she’s going to be singing softly to you, running her hands through your hair as you lay down on her lap. Trish lives for intimate moments like this. She remembers how she loved spending Christmas with her mother, and while it hurts she can no longer do that, she’s immensely grateful to be with you. It makes the loneliness she would’ve felt more bearable. If you fall asleep while she sings to you, Trish will place a kiss to your forehead, whispering how she loves you in a way she’d normally be too embarrassed to.

What Trish would get you: Fashion and makeup baby !! It wouldn’t be exclusive to one day either. Lip gloss, eyeshadow palettes, new shoes, jewelry, bath bombs, the whole works. She gets a bit too into it.

What Trish would like from you: Matching accessories would make her heart practically beat out of her chest. That, or a charm bracelet, with charms linked to specific memories of your time together. <33

335 notes · View notes

yoditorian · 3 years

Text

massive thank you to my followers for getting me to this milestone, and also to everyone who sent in fics!! while i can’t confess to having read all of these works (i’m getting there tho) each comment is from the person who submitted it 💛 i’ve decided to keep this up as a regular thing, hopefully to be able to traffic some more readers to lesser known writers too so keep an eye out for that link

these have been listed in the order i received them, multi chapter works have either the masterlist or first chapter linked, please pay attention to warnings on the individual works

@bee-dameron - kair’ta - din/reader - this is one of my own recs, the original holder of my din djarin loving heart, ellie knows what they’ve done to me.

@keeper0fthestars - would you let me - din/reader - again, a rec of mine, solely responsible for planting tattooed!din in my head. a concept which haunts me daily.

@thosewickedlovelies - into the woods - frankie/reader - my beloved rachael took a middle of the night shitpost of mine and turned it into something truly beautiful, i can’t wait to see where it goes.

@anxiety-riddled-mando - shereshoy - mando!oc/reader - the last of my suggested fics, lives rent free in my head and the only thing i will accept as canon. jon favreau who??

@firstofficerwiggles - caretaker - din/reader - It's my fic so this is a hard question to answer but I think the story's strengths are it's romance and the blend of other elements like humor and action.

@heatherbel - desideratum - din/reader - Gorgeous poetic romance with Din Djarin.

@jura-moon - chrysalis - din/reader - The most beautiful slow burn one shot you will ever read. Jura's writing is beyond special. Sweet, emotional, sexy gorgeousness in fic form.

@wille-zarr - in fields of white - din/reader - I wrote it lolllll jshshdhs.

@papercinders - enigma - obi wan/reader - the description of everything!! im not gonna make sense but gosh the author hooks you with the first chapter and drags you along by the neck for the next four

@waatermelon-sugaar - want to kiss? - poe/reader - So sexy 🥵.

@michaelperry - amidst the to and fro - din/reader - It’s a rebel!Din Djarin AU fic that is such a cool what-if idea and is written so beautifully. Din’s characterization is perfect and the whole thing is super sweet and soft. It’s one of my favorite fics I’ve read recently (tbh everything I’ve read of hers so far is amazing).

@maharani-radha-writes - cultural differences - javier/reader - It’s wonderful to be able to experience a little bit of someone else’s culture! And Javi doing his best to accommodate and understand is great to see!

@pumpkin-stars - waiting - frankie/reader - this fic has everything, angst, absolutely staggering symbolism, talk of death, frankie morales and the origin of his iCONIC hat (need i say more) (yes I will), heartache, taking chances, more angst, acceptance, a love confession, a happy ending. This fic is written with such care and empathy it is easily one of my fave frankie fics <3.

@katlikeme - it’s all the same down in the capital - reader + clones - Kat knows my whole heart belongs to her because this fic and i get all weepy just thinking about it.

@fromthedeskoftheraven - visions of sugarplums - jack/reader - being snowed in with Jack Daniels and his endless list of sweet pet names for you. And the pining!

@mourningbirds1 - the crossroads i’m standing at - javier/steve - Javier peña and steve murphy and all the yearning and pining possible <3.

@miceenscene - star-crossed - din/ofc - din djarin soulmate au that takes your breath away.

@filthybookworm - nothing more and nothing different - frankie/reader - the most beautiful character study of frankie morales and his love languages

@ladylothlorien - oberyn is our greatest post-punk novelist - oberyn/reader - beautifully written modern!oberyn.

@itssmashedavo - mary magdalene - javier/ofc - Incredible OC, excellent pacing and very good writing. 10/10 would recommend.

@corellianhounds - geroya - din + covert - The cutest slice of life Mando fic that I can’t stop thinking about. A lovely unique look at Din from the POV of the covert foundlings.

@millllenniawrites - warmth - poe/reader - love how Poe is portrayed in all their fics, but this one especially as it's such a slow build, and I can really feel everything when I read it! Also sex pollen is one of my favourite tropes ngl.

@brandyllyn - doppelgänger - nathan/reader - Wow - everything. This fic is just- so perfect! I love how Nathan makes an AI of himself (and believes that everyone would fuck themselves, given the chance) - that is one os the most in-character things I've ever seen Nathan do in fic - it's just perfect! Also love how bad Nathan is in bed at first, and the ending is so hot. Love love love this fic, I reread it regularly.

@youvebeenlivingfictional - don’t treat my love like a habit - santiago/reader - I love reading this series because I love how the characters develop, and how their relationships change over time too. I love the imagery in this fic and its such a comfort read. (Also there needs to be an honourary mention of Magnetic too, by the same author as it has excellent slow-burn pacing).

@woakiees - mistakes and sour grapes - poe/reader - I love how, although its modern-day Poe, it also does a really good job of showing Poe's struggles as he tries to adapt to civilian life. I also really enjoy the slow build between the two of them and Finn's friendship with the reader (also it's made me desperate to try a chocolate cake shot lol).

@woakiees - and you keep me holding on - santiago/reader - it made me cry so much!!! the emotion, the days counting, the pain of poor Santi, just everything its so good

@brandyllyn - to sell your love for peace - javier/reader - omg ok. the writing in this was so good, and the foreshadowing was excellent - the whole time, I had a sneaking suspicion of what was going to happen, but the clues were so expertly scattered in that I had just convinced myself I was wrong when... (AAAAHHHH I screamed you have no idea it was so good).

@writingletterstothefire - she loves me - santiago/reader - the suspense! I love knowing things that the characters dont and I cant wait to find out how they react! I really enjoy this authors writing too.

@witchyavenger - coffee - richard/reader - how sweet it is!! I just wanna give Richard some love too, he deserves the world, (and the moodpboard for this fic is so good also).

#big forehead kisses for anyone who sent their own work in!!! we love to see it!!!!#liz's follower celebration!!#fic recs #good words #also if u don't see ur rec here lmk and i'll be happy to let u know why #the mandalorian #star wars #narcos #triple frontier

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maybe-theres-hope · 3 years

Text

Of Will and Wildflowers, Part 3 (Final)

It’s here! Thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me: @oquinn53, @reyeslonestar, @howtosingit, @a-l-ias, @mtnofgrace, @descending-into-the-crazies @pragmaticoptimist34 if I forgot anyone please let me know!

Special thanks to my husband for reading this and making sure all my typos were gone :)

Tarlos | period drama/grudging acquaintances to lovers | Part 3/3 | This part: 10,877w | Total: 33,427w

Part 1 | Part 2

Read on AO3

Mr. Strand,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that your journey home was swift and uneventful. The entire house has been mourning yours and father’s departure since you left us. Mamà is convinced the lights are dimmer without the ambience of your father’s amusing anecdotes.

Elena has been lamenting the fullness of the house as well. She is easily bored without some new distraction every fortnight, but she swears she will convince you to visit again someday. I dare say we all will thank her if she can manage it.

In deference to our conversation, I will not try. I know you would not appreciate my needling.

Raquel cannot be bothered with the mundane occurrence of the comings and goings of visitors while she daydreams of castles and knights, so her opinion has not been asked. She still insists on helping Mrs. Smith in the kitchen, and Mamà still insists on having fits about it.

I must agree with my sister and mother, however. The house is a little less bright these days. Usually we can count upon sunlight and laughter to get us through the day, but those seem fleeting of late.

Flor misses you as well. She’s ornery when I ride her, as if she remembers a more beloved companion and I do not measure up. We lament your departure together when we meander the grounds.

Jimena is not often in the stable, so her opinion has not been ascertained either.

But enough of our melancholy!

How is it to be home? Travel can make us all weary, and you seemed so tired even before you set off. I hope you are feeling better in your own comfortable surroundings. Texas will always welcome you, but I know how good it is to feel your own dirt under your shoes. Please tell me something joyful, so that I can remember your face in gladness.

Your friend,

Christina Reyes

My dear friend,

As I sit beside the fire tonight, I am reminded of our last conversation. I am evermore grateful that you are taking on the no doubt immense burden of being my confidant while keeping our correspondence regarding these matters private from your family. Do not mistake me, if you at any time feel as though your obligation to me is taking precedent over your cherished feelings of love toward your family, please by all means give me but a word and I will cease my incessant pining.

Oh how I pine, dear Christina. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of the sound of rolling grass and smell wildflowers where there are none to be found. The city is bleak these days, and dark. What once was a welcome cacophony of life and commerce is now to me a teeming mass of sensation that I can barely stand for more than a moment. I long to feel the shift of earth under Flor’s hooves again, and for the caress of the soft breeze against my cheeks.

But enough of that for now. You asked in your letter for something joyful. My father has secured a deal with a contractor out West, and his—our line will stretch right to the Pacific, culminating at the coast. A fully developed coast to coast line, my father’s dream. It makes me so happy to see him so elated when he talks of it, and of me taking over it in time. I do not like to talk of him being gone, but it is inevitable he says. Men grow old, and pass on. He says what matters most is that we make a mark on the world we can be proud of, and that we touch people in ways that matter.

I cannot help but think that I have done neither.

I apologize again for my melancholy. When I sit to write to you I never intend to make you sad. Please, rejoice for my father and his accomplishments, for they reflect on me as well. I will take comfort in his happiness, and you can take comfort in my feeling it. That is enough for now.

Your friend,

TK Strand

TK,

I must address the most pressing concern from your letter immediately. You have touched us all, please know that. Please do not think you have not made a mark on the world, for our home would not have been the bright happy place it was while you were here without you to provide that light. Every day is a little darker, as I’ve said before, without you and your father in our midst.

Everyone is a little darker. Especially my brot

But enough of melancholy, as you said. I am delighted to hear of your father’s immense accomplishment. We are all so proud to be a part of it, a part of the future. I shall like to make the journey coast-to-coast someday on it, to me that would be such a wondrous thing!

I was wondering, would you tell me what Manhattan is like? I do admit I’ve only ever thought of it as bleak and loud and harsh, but surely folk as amiable as yourself and your father cannot come from such harshness. So please, tell me an anecdote of your days since you’ve returned. I’d love to hear of anything joyful. It would provide a balm to the monotony of country life.

Thinking of you always,

Christina Reyes

Dearest Christina,

Thank you for saying such kind things. I’ve always felt as if I were on the periphery of life. I’ve skated through it mostly by way of parties and luncheons with people who have little to talk about other than themselves. I’m just now getting to a point in my life where I do want to make a mark on the world. I know I can do that partially when I inherit my father’s legacy, and I intend to do it the utmost justice. But I find myself adrift in that I do have family and friends who love me, however…I do not have a love that speaks my heart’s language. A love that is built of trust and companionship and intimacy.

Please do not chide me for saying such things, we are friends and I feel I can talk about these delicate subjects with dignity. I thank you for your discretion.

But yes, as it stands, I have made no such mark on the world, have no such intimacy with which to grow old. I feel that the things we do in life do have a way of defining us, but they are far overshadowed by the people we choose to love.

In the past, I have chosen poorly, through no one’s fault but my own. I hope one day I can remedy that. But right now I feel, as I said, adrift. There is no one to hold me fast to the world, no one strive to do well for, after my father is gone. And I fear I may never have, as I have ceased looking. I cannot bear it at this moment.

Forgive me, my dearest friend, I have ignored your other request until now. Manhattan is much as it always is, loud and harsh, as you said. But most days it is a good distraction to hear the hustle and bustle outside my window. I do miss the Park and the promenade, but lately I haven’t felt well enough to venture out. I keep to my father’s study in our townhouse in Midtown while he visits the office near Gramercy and keeps me informed.

As I haven’t got a joyful anecdote from the days since our return, I will relate to you one from the past that is near and dear to my heart. When I was a young boy of about ten, my mother—God rest her soul—took me to the waterfront one day when my father was stolen from us with work. We gazed out over the Hudson, and even in my young age I tried to imagine that, just across the water, began the vastness of the North American continent. I used to try and picture what the land was like, what exotic treasures it held. I had never been anywhere, though my father had been to Chicago and Philadelphia numerous times.

I used to picture rolling hills, vast grasslands, and roaming livestock. I had been told most of the rest of the States consisted of farmland. I had never actually seen a bovine in person, but I had seen drawings. I childishly thought of it as one big zoo where all the animals roamed free, and the air always smelled crisp and clean. I imagined it was beautiful.

Funny thing is, I know now that that little boy of ten was at least partially right, at least about one particular place among that vastness.

I hope I have made you joyous,

TK Strand

My dear friend,

Your letter has made me joyous, in some ways. I wish you could have seen our home with childlike eyes, but alas I think it was better suited to you as you are now, and I’m glad you have experienced it and that it was to your liking. It truly means the world that you think of it as beautiful.

However, I have cause for concern where you have mentioned you have not been out, that you are unwell. Pray, please let me know how you get on, we all worry over you so. I happened to mention that excerpt of your letter at dinner, and I fear I may have incited a frenzy. I am humbly asked by my siblings to enquire after your health. Please tell us what ails you, so we can worry properly, and send up our prayers. I know we cannot do a thing for you, as far apart as we are now, but you are always in our hearts.

Mamà tells us that our business with your father is nearly finalized. I look forward to a ride on the line, hopefully with you as my guide. I must make the journey near winter, for I long to see snow. I’ve hitherto only read about it in books, a delicate powder that falls from the sky and blankets the world in white. How marvelous a sight must it be!

Be well,

Christina Reyes

Dear Christina,

As for your family, please tell them I am alright. I did not wish to frighten them or you, and I’m sorry for that. Please trust that our cook keeps me well with sandwiches and fruits when I am able to eat them. Everything is well when father is around to take up my time with business discussion, and as I said I am well distracted most days by the cacophony of the city outside.

I will venture out soon, I think, as my friends and acquaintances grow weary of my absence and I have left them all to their own devices for quite long enough, I suspect. I presume to know what they will want to discuss—an incident that took place just before our trip to Texas—it will be a drain on me to talk about it regardless. But I cannot put them off forever, I love them too much to deny them my company when they wish for it. Perhaps I’ll take a walk with one of them tomorrow, even if the air of the city is not nearly so keen and invigorating as the air of the country I have run from.

Please give my best to your family, I hope I have not caused anyone undue grief. I will only talk of happy things from here on out, when I eventually find them.

With affection,

TK Strand

P.S. I believe you know deep down what truly ails me, so I’ll not speak of it further lest I lose all dignity.

Mr. Michaels, the butler, stopped TK on his way to the dining room, handing him a card on a tray. He read it and smiled. “Miss Marwani called on you earlier, I told her you hadn’t yet come down. She left her card.”

“Thank you, Michaels. Will you send her a message that I’ll be free after luncheon today? I know it’s been so very long since I’ve made time to see her.”

“Yes, my lord. I dare say all your friends and acquaintances have been calling on us nonstop since your return home. But I trust it’ll take you a moment to get back into the swing of things after…your trip.”

TK smiled sadly. He knew what the butler was going to say before amending it. He’d been an absolute wreck after finding Alexander and the footman and had left for Texas only two days later. The entirety of the household and all of his friends must think he’s still in a melancholy state because of the slight.

If only they knew the truth. He might tell some of them, but only a select few he could trust. Michaels was a good man, and hadn’t overstepped. He’d practically raised TK since his father was so busy with the rail when he was younger. He knew the man was only looking out for his happiness.

“Michaels?” he said before turning to go on to the dining room for breakfast.

“Yes, my lord?”

“If you were faced with a time limit on a decision that governed your whole life, would you wait until you’d found the right solution? Or would you take the first viable solution to come along?”

TK knew that Michaels knew exactly what he was talking about, but was too polite to call attention to that fact. “I think if it were me, I’d examine every detail of each choice before deciding on the one most beneficial to my life in the long run. After all, some decisions are for a lifetime.” With this, he gave a small reproachful smile to his once young charge.

“Yes, well. What would you do if you’d found the right solution, but it turned out to be impossible?” TK’s eyes looked up in earnest at the butler, whose expression had turned kind and commiserating.

“I do hope you don’t think you’d found the right solution to this problem just before your departure?” It was obvious Michaels thought Alexander was far below TK even before the scandalous tryst was revealed.

“No, no. Nothing like that,” TK reassured. He was pensive for a moment, caught in his thoughts of rolling pasture and wildflowers, their scent dancing across his senses even from miles away. “I thought I had found the right avenue during my time away. It seemed a nice thing, a wonderful thing actually. I daresay my hopes were quite built up for a time. But in the end it proved, as I said, impossible.”

Michaels gazed at his young master for a moment, unmistakable pity in his eyes, but TK didn’t comment on it. He was too miserable.

“I hold the utmost confidence that the right choice is out there for you. But, my lord, you will never find it unless you leave this house eventually. I am glad you’ve decided to start breakfasting in the dining room again, and I know that if you do go out later today your color might begin to return. I worry for you, my lord. I hope I am not impertinent to say so.”

“No, no Michaels. You’re not impertinent. I know I’ve been ghastly to be around these last few weeks, and I do hope to remedy that. To begin…moving toward the future, no matter how much I wish I knew its contents.” TK gave the butler a sad smile before turning away again, the weight of all he wished for still on his shoulders and bright, luminous brown eyes on his mind, no matter how much he wished they’d fade.

“I know you’re still mourning Alexander and his licentious ways, but I promise you, you can do much better. His family isn’t even that well connected! He’ll be a faint stain on your past and nothing more.”

TK looked over at his friend, the navy ribbon on her silk evening bonnet getting caught by the light breeze weaving through the Park. Her dark eyes held an intense shine as they often did when she went on a tirade. He let himself smile at her ability to be both vicious and diplomatic.

“Marjan,” he chided gently, “his family owns three quarters of the orange trees in the country! I wouldn’t say he’s not well connected. Half of Florida bears his family name in some capacity.”

“Oh, to hell with that,” she spit delicately. TK was also impressed by her proficiency in cursing with a velvet tongue. “Then he should be sent off to oversee them. Rid this city of his stupidity. Even further! Florida is too close, send him to the West Coast! Let him disappear. Society will be all the better for it, mark my words."

TK was brought up short by the mere mention of the opposite coast, since thoughts of that region gave in to thoughts of a certain eligible bachelor which gave in to thoughts of his intended that TK desperately wished was his own intended and—

It must have shown on his face.

“TK, my friend, trust me. He is nothing of consequence.” Her voice had turned gentle again, not the outrage on his behalf she’d been spouting for the past few minutes. TK could not help connecting her statement with his thoughts, even if she was off the mark at the moment.

“I know that. It’s not him that unsettles me; he is firmly in my past and I shall not revisit my temporary lapse of judgement in giving him even a small parcel of my affection.” He patted her hand that rested in the crook of his arm as they walked leisurely around a small fountain, the sound of bubbling water serving to soothe his psyche for the time being.

She was silent for a moment before she tugged them to a pause on a semi-crowded knoll. “Then, pray tell, what has you so blue? Ever since you returned from the South you’ve been distant. I thought at first it was just lethargy left over from the long journey, but it has been over two months! I fear I shall never see you smile again as before. Please tell me what troubles you? Is it your father?”

Marjan was a close friend, and as such, she was privy to some news about his father’s health. The man wasn’t in immediate danger, but TK had confided in Marjan that his father had taken to being more…forceful in his demands that TK take a more active role in the business. He had a persistent cough but no fever as of yet. The doctors did what they could to alleviate the annoying ailment—as his father called it—but they all knew Owen Strand was beginning the downslope of his life. At nearly fifty years of age, he was nearing the last stretch of life expectancy and sometimes TK could see it plain on his father’s face. It made him apprehensive for the future, not to mention the fact that still stood: he had to marry before he could take over the business.

And that thought brought him back around to his other melancholy. For if the desired recipient of his affection would return said affection, he’d be happily married yesterday. But alas, it was not to be.

He dreaded a letter from Christina detailing an engagement. He knew it was coming soon, and he’d tried to resign himself to it. Perhaps she wouldn’t even tell him. After all, he’d asked as much of her. Nothing of Carlos, none at all; that had been his request.

“It is, partially, my father’s health that concerns me,” he said as he came out of his thoughts and back into the conversation at hand. “However I…”

“What is it?” Marjan asked when he refused to speak further after trailing off into silence. “What makes your heart ache so? I can see it in your eyes that it is your heart that is broken. If it was not Alexander, then who?”

Trust Marjan to read him like a book.

“I met someone. In Texas. Oh, Marjan—“ he paused a moment and could not help a smile crawling across his features at the thought of his week spent in bliss, before it all came crumbling down. “He is the most wonderful, kind, and beautiful creature I have ever met. At first I thought him a cad, as our first meeting was less than cordial. But upon learning why he felt as he did, I was persuaded to understand and to admire his candor. He spoke of his home with love and deference, and it was such a treasure to be shown the land with such a companion.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured the apple orchard. Marjan caught his flush and smiled.

“And so? When shall we expect an announcement?”

TK’s smile quickly dimmed to a grimace, now tasked with completing the story.

“An announcement will not come, I’m afraid. He is betrothed to another. I found out on our second to last night in Austin, and I must confess I did not handle it well. I made a complete fool of myself and I’d like to never repeat it by seeing him again.”

“Wait, he did not tell you he was spoken for? And he courted you just the same and let you think you had a chance?” Her voice was angry and TK sought to soothe it with the truth.

“Truthfully, he never actually courted me. We were thrust together by circumstance, and he was a perfect gentleman throughout. It was I who read too much into each interaction, each conversation, each dance held in his arms. It was I who was a complete fool to let my feelings show on my face to all his family when they all knew nothing would ever come of it. I feel so stupid, Marjan. I practically begged father to cut the trip short. But…” he paused again, thinking of the dust kicking up behind Jimena’s hooves as Carlos rode out to meet their carriage after they’d already set off. The small bud of Indian Paintbrush was still blooming in a jar of water next to his bed.

“But?” She prompted.

“There were some moments where…where I could swear that he…but it was obviously a trick of my imagination. His betrothed is a marvelous gentleman, beloved by all, and he would be a fool not to accept an eventual proposal. As I said, it is well and truly over and out of the question that my pursuit would yield any happiness.”

Marjan was silent while they resumed their walk, her hand steady in the crook of his arm. Eventually, she spoke softly. “Well, I must admit I am glad this melancholy is not on Alexander’s account, but I also must admit I am saddened by this turn of events. I know you to be a perfect gentleman, and I have always wished you could find someone as wonderful as you to share your life with. I know you’ll do great things and I know you want someone to share those triumphs with. If this man is who you feel is perfect for you, why not fight for him? It is not in your nature to give up so easily.”

“That’s just it, Marjan. He is perfect, and honorable. Which is why I could not jeopardize his honor by asking him to abandon a promise he made before he met me. I would never forgive myself if his good name was tarnished.”

They walked in silence until the end of the lane, where they turned to leave the Park and hail a carriage back to Marjan’s home up the avenue.

When TK returned home later in the evening, Michaels stopped him in the entryway and held out a tray. “This came for you while you were out, my lord.”

TK took the proffered package and stared at it in confusion. The return address from from Christina, but usually all she sent were letters. This parcel was still small, the shape of a single letter, but thicker. It weighed little, giving no clue as to its contents.

“Thank you, Michaels. Is dinner set already? Do I have time to change?”

“You should, my lord. I shall call for you in about half an hour. Your father is in the parlor already, if you wish to check in with him, now you’re home.”

“Was he missing me? Did he need something?” TK wondered, a little worried.

Michaels smiled. “No, my lord. He was actually quite content all day, and was happy that you’d gone to call on Miss Marwani. I only say to check in because he probably hopes to hear how happy a time you had.”

TK smiled sadly. He knew he was worrying his father with his refusal to leave his own rooms for the past weeks. It saddened him further that he could have possibly made his father’s condition worse by stressing him. He vowed to himself to make a better effort to get back into real life sooner rather than later. After all, as he’d told Marjan earlier, there was nothing to be done about…Mr. Reyes. That was well and truly over, in fact it had never begun. There was no reason to pine after a man who did not do the same for him. TK was worth more than that.

Yes, he must convince himself of that, and quickly.

“Alright, Michaels. I’ll change quickly and meet him. Thank you,” he said with a small nod. Turning to ascend the stairs, he started to unwrap the small, delicate parcel Christina had sent. As he entered his rooms, his efforts revealed that there was, in fact, a letter inside. However it was nestled atop a small folded square of cloth, delicate and airy and fine.

Setting the letter aside for the moment, he unfolded the fabric to reveal that it was a handkerchief, finely made and embroidered in bright colored thread. The edges were a gleaming yellow, reminding him of sunlight. On one corner, no bigger than his thumb, was the most intricate rendition of a yellow wildflower—he recognized it almost instantly.

He moved to sit on the nearest surface, which happened to be the edge of his bed. The pads of his fingers caressed the tiny design reverently, as if touching it would somehow unravel all the thread that comprised it. As if by acknowledging that it was there, it was already in danger of disappearing. There was no doubt of the reference used—he had seen so many of those little yellow blossoms on his journey around the Reyes ranch. The breath left his body as his mind’s eye conjured a bright smile and the smell of clean sweetness on the air.

After he’d regained some of his composure, he picked up the letter. It was shorter than most of her other letters, which stood to reason as he’d just received her last one a few days ago and he’d yet to answer it. She must have sent this just behind her previous one.

Beloved TK,

I hope you are well. I know I have just posted a letter to you two days ago, but I saw this in a shop window and immediately thought of you. I know how you enjoyed the wildflowers around our home, and I wished for you to have a reminder of them—especially one less prone to wilting than the genuine article.

You are always in my our thoughts, and I wished to keep us in yours. Please, think of Austin when you hold this token, and know that you are so dearly missed.

Yours in heart,

Christina Reyes

TK stared. It seemed as though the letter had been written in some sort of haste, as it was unusual for Christina’s hand. The letters were slightly more slanted, and the spaces between paragraphs larger than her delicate way. Even her signature was off, as if it had been written by a proxy. And the contents…she’d never called him a beloved friend before. Well, no, it wasn’t even friend. It was just “beloved”.

He wondered if she was growing melancholy herself for some unknown reason. The letter seemed sincere, but heavier than her usual correspondence, as if she was feeling his absence more acutely in this instance.

Furthermore, he wasn’t sure he’d told her about what the wildflowers meant to him. He’d thought that was something he and Mr. Reyes had shared between themselves for the short time they’d been acquainted. But perhaps her brother had recited a few of their outings to her, and remarked on TK’s fascination with the surrounding flora of the country.

Perhaps.

He concluded that the whole parcel was a product of a hastily made decision when she’d seen the handkerchief in the window, and the oddities contained within the letter were the result of her haste to get it posted while she was still in town that same day.

He gently tucked the gift into a box next to his bed, giving it one last longing stare before closing the lid and beginning to dress for dinner.

“We’ve had a letter from the Doña,” his father said over luncheon a few days later as he perused said letter which Michaels had handed to him upon their arrival in the dining room. “It seems her agent agrees to our terms, and they are sending a liaison with the documents to finalize.” He set the page down on the table and picked up his glass of port. “I do believe we are almost settled with the entirety of the preparations, and we can begin construction early next year!”

“That’s wonderful news, father,” TK said quietly, his tone not matching his words. He was looking down at his plate with no intention of picking up his fork, so he missed his father’s knowing and saddened expression.

“It is. Another piece of news that I’ve gathered from earlier today, is that the Vanderbilts are throwing a ball tomorrow night. Well, I suppose Mrs. Vanderbilt is, at any rate, and Mr. Strickland asks if you can accompany him.”

“I don’t know, father. I’m not sure I’m feeling well enough to socialize on such a scale. I’ll be a bore to everyone there and then you will have to answer for my behavior.”

“I don’t think you’d be a bore to Mr. Strickland, surely. He’s been asking after you these last few weeks. I daresay he plans to eventually kidnap you from your rooms if you do not answer his calls. Surely he’ll want to hear how you’re getting on?” His father’s transparency was apparent, but TK did not call him out on it.

“I don’t know, father. I’m not quite well at the moment so I probably shouldn’t be gallivanting about at parties.”

“You are unwell because you refuse to eat or see sunlight,” Owen said, not unkindly. His next words were suffused with affection and it only made TK’s heart ache more. “My son, I worry for you. The whole household does. Mrs. Talbot says you only ate half the small sandwich she brought you last night. And you haven’t touched your soup yet since we’ve sat down. I worry you’ll be skin and bones before long.” His words weren’t scolding, only concerned.

“I’m sorry to worry you, father, and the servants. I just find it…difficult to keep anything down. It all tastes like ash, and I know that description would never do Mrs. Talbot’s cooking justice.” At this, he made a gamely attempt to sip a spoonful of soup, and found his assessments confirmed. He swallowed anyway, and kept the grimace off his face with great effort.

“Tyler,” his father said in that affectionate tone once more, “You must try to move past your heartbreak. I know that’s what it is,” he said as TK made to interrupt him, “I know it when I look at your face and see only sadness. I know it when I hear from Michaels that you have not descended the stairs all day while I’ve been at the office. I know it because that single flower is still thriving at your bedside.” At this, he had the decency to look only slightly chagrined. TK said nothing.

“I looked in on you a few nights ago. You didn’t come down to dinner and I was worried you’d gone hungry again. Your sleep looked restless. I also noticed a letter from Miss Christina.”

“You went through my things?” TK said without any real malice. He knew his father meant well but he had put a lot of private thoughts into those letters and Christina had answered them in kind.

“I only ascertained that she wishes to see snow. You should take her up on her request to ride the line once it is finished. I know she would love to see you again. And maybe by then, it will be less painful for you.” Owen’s face was drawn.

“Maybe, in a year or two. For now I am content with her letters.”

“What does she write of her brother?” his father asked.

“Nothing, because I asked her not to,” TK replied. He again missed his father’s pained expression of concern as he took another forced sip of his soup from his spoon. His hand trembled slightly at the most direct mention of Carlos since his talk with Marjan earlier in the week.

Owen seemed to take this answer as a plea to end the subject of conversation. He simply watched his son silently, wishing he could help ease his pain and knowing he was unable.

“Mr. Cartwright has not stopped staring in this direction since we sat down,” Paul remarked over the swell of the music, another quadrille beginning causing cheers and the shuffle of feet to the dance floor.

“Perhaps he’s trying to figure out a way to ask you to dance,” TK answered as he sipped his brandy. Paul was a dear friend, and he was happy to be in his company, he just wished it didn’t have to be surrounded by laughing couples and a revelry he felt entirely apart from.

His friend gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious? He’s been shamelessly staring at you,” Paul countered. “He’s practically mapped out every thread in your coat, the cad.”

“I doubt that. No amiable gentleman would give me a second glance as I look now. Maybe a few months ago, but not now. I’m well aware the color in my cheeks and the bulk of my frame have left me. The servants, my father, you, and Marjan remind me every day of that. How could I be any object of desire?”

It had been a full week since his first venture out of the house with Marjan—and nearly three months since his return from Texas—and TK was trying for his friends’ sake to get back out into the world. Hence accepting the invitation to a ball at the home of some debutante or another of their set, with Paul as his moral support should he feel the need to flee the social setting at his earliest convenience. TK was still trying to get used to other people around him being so happy and carefree when he himself wished to crawl into his bed and remain there until the second coming.

He knew full well that his behavior wasn’t healthy. He’d made the decision himself to try and get past his heartbreak, lest it cripple him forever which definitely could not happen if he wanted to give his father any peace of mind.

“My friend,” Paul chided kindly, “you’ve always been a vision, sought after by many a connected suitor. You haven’t lost your appeal I can promise you. We harp on your well-being because we care about how you’re feeling on the inside, and the outside is a good testament to that. I dare say it’s made you more desirable, at least to those who’ve mourned your absence since your trip, that you’ve stayed away. It inflates the intrigue.” He gave a small chuckle that TK tried to match.

“Well I’m afraid Mr. Cartwright will have to find another object of desire. I do not believe I could content anyone as a courting partner as of now. I need a bit more time to settle back in, I think.” That was as diplomatic as TK could be about it. The reality was that he’d still been unable to remove thoughts of Mr. Reyes from his mind, and it grew more difficult every day. He absentmindedly reached into his jacket pocket and rubbed the delicate fabric of the handkerchief between his fingers, feeling the bumps and valleys of the embroidery, and almost smelling the sweet scent of the country in the air.

He hadn’t noticed he’d closed his eyes until he felt a brush of air next to his face as a reveler approached their table.

“Hello, Mr. Strand,” Mr. Cartwright beamed. It seemed he’d worked up the courage to approach after all.

“Good evening. Are you enjoying the festivities?” He answered, attempting cordiality.

“Of course. And yourself, Mr. Strand? Wouldn’t you better enjoy things in their midst than here on the periphery? Fancy a dance on the next waltz?” The man sounded so eager that TK almost obliged. But his honor would not let him lead the man on.

“I’m afraid I’ve quite exhausted myself already,” he said, even though all he’d done was make one round and plop himself into his current seat since arriving. “I do apologize for being unavailable, but I’m sure there is someone else dying to catch your hand for a waltz. Please let me do them the favor of leaving you available.”

It was almost comical the way the man’s face fell, but TK was not in danger of showing any glee at it on his face. He understood far to well the melancholy of unrequited affection. But alas, he could not feign interest at the moment, so he let the man trudge away with only a bit of guilt.

“He’ll get over it,” he said when he caught Paul’s glance.

“But will you?” It was clear he wasn’t talking about Mr. Cartwright.

TK didn’t answer. He could not.

The day of the arrival of the Doña’s liaison dawned and once again TK could barely face the sunlight. He wished with all his heart that he could place the blame on too much of the good-natured debauchery that plagued his set when they got into their drinks, but he knew he could not. He’d barely partaken in a full glass of brandy with his father after dinner the night before.

He felt some guilt at not hurrying down to meet the man at his father’s side, as would be expected of an only son in position to run his father’s business someday, but could barely bring himself to nibble at the scones Mrs. Talbot had sent up the night before.

Sooner or later, however, he knew he must face the day. He finally got himself dressed near luncheon time, deeming his appearance presentable enough for a middle manager he’d never meet again.

He straightened his collar and pulled his lapels taut just before Michaels announced him upon entering the parlor. As he surveyed the scene before him, his stride halted, all breath left his lungs, and the color drained from his face.

Seated on the settee across from his father and wearing the most disarmingly beautiful smile, eyes dancing in the sunlight filtering in through the damask curtains, was Carlos Reyes.

The man had clearly just been given some wonderful news, though TK couldn’t imagine what his own father could have told him to elicit such a response, but it was plain on his face that he’d just been told something truly delightful. However, when his eyes strayed to the entrance to the room upon Michaels announcing TK’s presence, the smile on his face faded slowly to a deep concern. TK didn’t miss the subtle perusal of his person, Carlos looking over his face with a slight furrow of his brow that grew deeper the longer TK stood there dumbfounded.

Mr. Reyes, of course, was the first to remember his manners, though his employment of them seemed over the top to TK. He’d jumped up and nearly ran over to TK, taking his elbow in hand ever so gently as if the touch was nothing. As if it didn’t send TK’s whole world tilting.

“Mr. Strand! I…please, sit. Should I fetch some water? You look like you’ll be ill any moment…” He sounded almost…afraid. Not disgusted and annoyed as TK thought he might have been upon their next meeting. After all, TK was the one who’d made a fool of himself by pining like an imbecile in front of the Reyes’ family and friends. He could only imagine how much Mr. Reyes regretted their time together, now that he’d had a few months to ponder it.

“I’m alright, Mr. Reyes, thank you,” TK managed to croak out as the man ushered him to a chair across the room, seemingly careful as not to touch him.

He must be master of himself! This was almost more embarrassing than what had initially transpired between them in Texas. “I…hadn’t known that you’d be coming as your mother’s agent. I was only…surprised to see you. Here.” He forced his lips to stop moving.

Mr. Reyes’ face had yet to lose it’s pinched brow and shining eyes. What TK had initially catalogued as fear now looked like…concern. But that was impossible. Only, maybe not, since Mr. Reyes was a quite honorable and sensible man, and TK knew he looked gaunt and lifeless on his best days lately.

Turning to look at his father, TK only noticed that he too was focused on Mr. Reyes, and TK couldn’t quite place his expression. He’d been smiling as well when TK entered, and now he seemed a bit subdued but no less mirthful. It was an odd juxtaposition. Just then, he turned to his son and gave him a gentle smile.

“Well, I must be off. Quite a bit to get finalized with the documents you’ve brought me.” He stood and offered a hand to Mr. Reyes. “How long did you say you’d be in the city?”

“A few days, sir. I had hoped…well, my mother wishes me to return with everything in order,” he answered cryptically as they shook. His face was hopeful though TK couldn’t think why. They had pretty well come to a mutually beneficial agreement through correspondence. The rest was simply formality at this point. He couldn’t think what else would need to be settled.

“I’m sure she does,” Owen said with a smile and another odd look at TK. He could not figure what to make of the exchange, but truth be told he was still reeling from Carlos—Mr. Reyes, he reminded himself—being in his home so unexpectedly.

His father was turning to him next. “Tyler, would you be a gentleman and show Mr. Reyes about for a bit? I’m sure he’d like to stretch his legs after his long journey. You could take a taxi to the Park?”

TK fought the urge to gape at his father. He expected them to be…alone? What would they even discuss? TK wished the Turkish rug’s threads would open up and sew him into the floor.

He was however, as his father said, a gentleman, and he could not let his manners slip no matter how much he wished to be anywhere but alone in the confines of a taxi and then in the beautiful intimacy of the Park at dusk with Carlos Reyes.

“Of course, father. It would be my pleasure.” Somehow the words left his lips without a tremble. Or so he hoped. He did not think his father could be so cruel, knowing TK’s heart.

Mr. Reyes looked half ecstatic and half terrified. TK could relate whole-heartedly.

As Owen bid them good night and made to ascend the stairs to his study, TK slowly turned to look at his circumstantial companion. Here they were once again, thrust into each other. TK thought back to that first morning they’d toured the ranch together; Mr. Reyes had been cordial, despite their initial meeting and his own hesitation about the Strand’s business with his family. He’d been courteous and knowledgable about the land, wishing to give TK a good impression which TK in turn appreciated.

He vowed to himself he would attempt to do the same when showing Mr. Reyes his own home.

With somewhat renewed countenance, TK took a breath. “Well, shall we, Mr. Reyes?” His voice barely shook. The man in question gave him a fond smile that melted TK’s very soul.

“Lead the way, Mr. Strand.”

The taxi ride proved to undo all of TK’s borrowed confidence. Sitting so close their knees brushed reminded him of riding through the apple orchard, which in turn reminded him of Carlos’ hand in his, which set his heart fluttering and mind whirling, which led to an awkward silence the likes of which TK never wanted to experience again. Mr. Reyes was waiting for him to speak, it seemed—as TK was ostensibly his guide in this place unfamiliar to him—and he was thoroughly incapable. All that accompanied them was the clap of the horses’ hooves on the stones and both their nervous breathing.

When they arrived at the southwest corner of the Central Park, TK paid the driver and slipped out before Mr. Reyes could offer him a hand. He knew not what he would do if he felt that warmth upon his skin again in his current state. The other man looked a bit let down, but TK dismissed it as a trick of his longing imagination.

They entered and set about the promenade which, even at this time of the evening, was still thronged with late perusers. As they walked among the fresh grass and beautiful tree lined paths, TK did his best to drum up the wherewithal to speak, to offer some manner of conversation lest he seem rude in his silence.

“I suppose it looks rather…artificial to you,” he said quietly.

Mr. Reyes startled a bit, apparently accustomed to TK’s lack of voice thus far, but he recovered quickly with an eager smile turned to his companion.

“Not at all! It’s all very…whimsical I think. This beautiful bounty of nature preserved in the middle of all that stone and brick. It’s…peaceful.”

“Yes,” TK thought aloud. “It’s quite serene. The further in you go, the less the city outside of it seems real. The sounds and smog melt away and you just feel…” he trailed off, words failing.

“Like we’re in our own little Eden.” Carlos’ eyes were like pools of shining dark chocolate in the gaslamp light. Sweet and alluring.

TK could only nod dumbly, and try to look away. He accomplished it with much difficulty.

They walked in a much softer silence for a time, passing a couple of people TK recognized from parties and balls around the city, but they never stopped to converse with anyone. Mr. Reyes seemed to want to keep his company for himself, which TK could not think what to do about, so he remained passively quiet.

About half an hour into their journey, his companion spoke.

“I’ve actually got something I’d like to…well, first there’s something I…I need to tell you.” Carlos’ face was unreadable, but his tone was quiet and reserved. TK’s heart clenched painfully. Carlos had been in an odd countenance since his arrival, and TK could only attribute it to the awkwardness surrounding his ridiculous assumptions about Carlos’ feelings and the utter embarrassment of his departure from Texas.

“Oh?” was all he said, suddenly breathless with an ache he could barely stand.

“I’m not sure if you were informed when you last visited, but—” he paused for so long, TK turned to look at him at his side, wondering what halted his speech. His face was still unreadable, but his voice now had a very slight tremble to it. TK tried to keep his own face open, so that Mr. Reyes felt safe to continue.

“For several years now I have had an...understanding. With a gentleman from California, with whom my family is quite acquainted.”

The vice around TK’s heart clenched cruelly at the reminder. “Yes, Mr. de Castillo. Your mother and sisters—and some of those from the county—told me about him. Quite admired, he is, by all.”

“Yes…” His voice trailed off into silence again, and this time when TK sneaked a look he seemed troubled. TK wished he could put the man’s fears at ease, that if he feared a faux pas in tearing down TK’s feelings that he needn’t worry about it.

But that would have been a lie.

“Yes,” he said again, going on. “We’ve actually been courting these last months, not long after yours and your father’s departure.”

TK took the blow as best he could, with a calm countenance, when really he wished this torturous conversation would end so that he could limp back to his bed and curl up in misery until the second coming. Why on earth did Carlos feel the need to do this? Weren’t they settled in being apart from each other? No more than business acquaintances?

The thought alone dealt his heart another painful blow.

“About a month ago he—he called on me to...state his intentions.” His voice sounded flatter than TK would assume from a happily engaged man. Still, he tried to inject some light into his own tone when he answered.

“I am so happy for you, Car—Mr. Reyes,” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster which, admittedly, was not very much at all.

However, his tone must have belied his utter devastation because Mr. Reyes abruptly stopped and gently tugged him to the side of the path, so that they would not impede other couples on the promenade. TK almost swooned at the touch.

“I’m sorry?” the other man said, a look of confusion and slight hurt across his beautiful eyes. TK was now confused as well.

“I...I only wish to convey my happiness on your engagement. You must be thrilled to have your future finally settled. Not only must it be a relief, but with such a fine gentleman as I have heard.” Carlos’ hand was still lightly holding onto his upper arm, and though it pained TK in the worst way to do it, he ever so deftly maneuvered his body so that the contact was dropped.

“I think that...well I...that is…” Carlos was staring at him, that hurt look growing in his brown eyes and TK wanted nothing more than to take it away but he didn’t know how.

“Mr. Strand—TK,” he said so softly that TK could hear his own heart beat in the silence. “I think that you have...misunderstood me.” TK had been staring at a spot over Carlos’ shoulder until then, unable to meet his eyes any longer for fear he’d burst into tears in the middle of Central Park, but at the plea he shifted his watery gaze back to sink into the pools of liquid chocolate in front of him.

“Mr. de Castillo—Fernando, that is—has proposed marriage to me, it’s true—” In the minuscule pause between these words and the next set, TK felt his heart slow to a stop with the inexorable weight set upon it by this conversation, “—but I have turned him down.”

And at this, that traitorous heart gave one slow, painful beat of hope that TK was powerless to tamp down.

When he could find his voice, it was to incredulously say, “Whatever for?”

Carlos reached down to take TK’s hand in his, and TK was sure he was trembling like a sheaf of paper caught in the wind. He brought it between both his hands, brushing the knuckles ever so lightly—so much so that TK was sure he’d imagined it.

“Because I could not marry a man that I do not love, and I do not love Fernando. No matter how much of a wonderful and kind gentleman he is, and no matter how ashamed and saddened it made me to tell him so. But I cannot betray my own heart.”

TK’s legs were going to give out any moment. He had no other thought in his head but staying upright, using that tentative hold on his hand, still gentle as ever, as his anchor. He dare not let his thoughts follow themselves to any conclusions.

“The truth is, TK, my heart belongs to another. It has for some time, and I was too stubborn with misplaced loyalty to give it a say. That is, until now. Which is why I imparted the information to you.”

TK kept staring into the man’s eyes, wondering if this was all some dream he’d tumbled into in slumber. He was sure this must be his own mind conjuring the conversation, guilty as it was of yearning for it.

“I wish to apologize for taking so very long to come to my senses. I always strive to be honorable, and for a time I thought that meant that I must remain true to Fernando. But I’ve been made to realize that my thinking was wrong.” TK could only take the words in stride, adrift as he was on the roaring sea of his emotions.

The man continued, while TK himself was made to listen to the most illogical combination of words his brain could have come up with in his current state. He was still convinced he was dreaming. Carlos reaching down and taking both his hands did nothing to bring him out of said state. Furthermore, it made him feel as if he was about to float away into the stars, unmoored as he was except for those twin points of contact.

“You are the most optimistic, brilliant, engaging creature I have ever known. Your smile could light up a room if every candle failed. I find myself riveted any time you’ve got an anecdote to tell, and in these months of not hearing your voice I have conjured it in my dreams more times than I care to admit.

“I wish to spend the rest of my days making you smile and laugh, waking with the morning sunshine just to see how it dapples your face, and admiring you from across the dinner table every single evening for the rest of my life. TK, if I have been mistaken, and you do not return my affections, please stop me from making a further fool of myself.” This he said with a little nervous chuckle that cut straight through TK’s very soul. He looked up through his lashes at TK, nervous.

TK, in turn, was struck dumb by the confession. Carlos apparently took this as a queue to continue to the most preposterously happy thing that had yet to be uttered in this very winding conversation that had had TK’s heart in knots since it began.

“Mr. Strand. If I have not been remiss in my assumptions of your affection, I urge you, no I beg you to consider my humble plea. Would you consent to be my husband? It would make me the happiest man in the entire world.”

TK felt himself take in a slow, careful breath. It took several moments for him to find his voice, and then it was only to utter on a half-expelled gasp, “Truly?”

“Yes, truly,” was the nearly equally breathless answer.

Again, it was a struggle to find volume behind the utter euphoria that had overtaken him, but soon enough, he pushed the words out in a little more than a whisper, lest he accidentally shout and call undue attention. “Then, yes. Yes!” Tears were already warming his cheeks and chin, but TK didn’t care a wit. He went easily as Carlos embraced him tightly, feeling warmth suffusing his entire body at every place they touched.

Before long, they had to part, lest they invite accusations of impropriety.

“I…I had thought…well it doesn’t matter now I suppose,” he stammered, thoughts swirling with emotion and unable to tamp them down. Not wanting to.

“I apologize again for taking so long. Your smile, your face is all I’ve thought about for months. The moment you were gone my heart sank to the deepest depths.”

“Mine as well,” TK admitted. “I have…neglected myself these last few months, I’m afraid. I thought I could learn to forget you in time, but alas…”

“When you entered the parlor, I was distraught to see you looking unwell. Please, I beg of you, please take care of yourself. I don’t know what I would do if…”

“I know. I apologize for my appearance. I did not mean to give you cause for concern.”

Carlos briefly reached up to touch TK’s slightly sunken cheek. “I hope you can forgive me, for it is my silence that has caused you such distress, but I also find myself elated that you feel the same as I do. I can still scarcely believe it.” His voice was rising with happiness, and TK felt drunk on it like the sweetest wine. “I must admit, though, I cannot claim full responsibility for coming to my senses. Christina was quite adamant that I was being an imbecile.”

TK looked down at the ground for a moment. “I…asked her—no, begged her really—not to speak of you in our correspondence.”

“She told me. It’s why I—“ Carlos stopped abruptly, looking chagrined.

“What is it?” TK asked.

“Well I…I knew you did not want to speak to me, but I just had to…that is I…I sent you…something. I wrote a letter and signed her name to it. She laughed about it later, but she called me an utter fool for not being more courageous about it.

TK halted in the middle of the path. Immediately, he knew. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a delicate fold of linen edged in bright yellow. He held it gently in his fingers, caressing the soft folds that had cemented themselves after so long kept in his pocket.

Even in the lamplight, he could see Carlos’ face flush slightly.

“I wanted to court you properly, but circumstances were…well. In the end I was cowardly about it I suppose.” He ducked his head bashfully.

“I think, deep down, I knew. I didn’t want to let myself believe, but…I’d never spoken to Christina about the wildflowers.” TK’s own voice was reverent.

“She told me that. When I told her what I’d done, she told me you would see right through it.”

“You called me beloved…”

Carlos looked deep into his eyes. “Yes.”

TK nearly swooned again, new tears dripping down his cheeks which were positively sore with how much he was smiling. He tucked the treasure back into his jacket.

“We’ll have to tell my father, I suppose,” he said after a time, absolutely giddy as they began to walk along the path again, back to the streets toward the Strands’ home.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’ve already gotten his blessing,” Carlos answered with a smug grin to answer TK’s astonished expression. “That’s what we were talking about earlier today, before you interrupted us.”

“Well, you’ve thought of everything haven’t you?”

“I think I’d like very badly to kiss you, but I’ll hold off. Wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize your good opinion of me, would we?’ His smile was absolutely radiant. TK thought to himself that if this were to be his life, staring at this gorgeous face full of love for all his days, he’d never be unhappy again.

The fire was dying down and Carlos finally moved to take his leave.

“Must you go?” TK couldn’t quite keep the pout from his voice, but at least now, he did not care too much if Carlos heard it.

“I’ve stayed too long as it is, people will talk,” he answered with an indulgent smile as TK walked him out of the parlor and into the hallway. The servants had long gone to bed, so it was up to TK himself to help Carlos on with his coat.

“You’re my fiance now,” he said, glowing all the while and unable to help it. “People will have to get used to the fact that I want to be around you every waking moment of the day without pause.”

“Yes, but no one knows that yet and I wouldn’t want to besmirch your good name.”

“When will I see you again, then?” He slid the overcoat onto broad shoulders, nearly letting his fingers linger a bit too long for propriety.

“I’ll call tomorrow to meet with your father again. We do have actual business to finalize after all. You’ll be there, won’t you?” Now it was Carlos’ turn to pout a bit, and TK was powerless against it.

“Of course. Well, I’ll say good night.” He looked up into the face of the most beautiful man, the man he was going to spend the rest of his unbelievably happy days with.

“Good night, my heart,” said Carlos, reaching up a hand to caress TK’s face so gently it caused an aching pang in his heart. Slowly, carefully, he moved his calloused thumb across TK’s lips, back and forth a few times as if trying to memorize the shape of them. TK gave a small shudder.

“My, Mr. Reyes, you’re being very forward.” He couldn’t help smiling. As the man had not removed his hand yet, TK pursed his lips ever so slightly, bestowing a chaste kiss against his thumb.

Carlos chuckled softly, covering an intake of breath. “Now who’s forward?” He was smiling so wide it looked as if it hurt.

“You’re my fiance,” TK answered against the warm skin, the word still feeling like glistening honey in his mouth, “I can be as forward as I like.”

“God in heaven, I want to kiss you.” Carlos looked like he might do it, but restrained himself as a gentleman should. They’d pushed the bounds of propriety enough for one day, TK supposed. Though he would have welcomed it gladly, as clandestine and salacious as it would have been. After a few more strokes, Carlos finally dropped his hand from TK’s face. “This will have to do for now, I suppose.” He took TK’s own hand in his and laid a gentle kiss against his knuckles.

“But not for long?”

“No, my heart. Not for long. I won’t be able to do with a long engagement. I will perish before I make it to the church if you make me wait for more than a couple of months.”

“I’ll see what I can do. But my father will want to invite the whole of New York, so you know.” He couldn’t help a roll of his eyes, however fond the gesture was. His father loved a good party, and the marriage of his only son—finally, he would probably say—was sure to prove one for the ages.

“Ah, yes, and we mustn’t forget the entirety of the county back home, if my mother and Christina have anything to say about it,” Carlos said with another fond chuckle. “You have her to thank, by the way. For getting me out of my head and back on solid ground. My sister is your champion in sickness and in health. That is, until I get to call you my husband.”

TK shuddered again at the mere word.

“I really should go,” Carlos said again. He made no move toward the door.

“You really should,” TK prompted. He moved to open the door, and finally they broke their gaze from each other.

As Carlos stepped out, he turned to smile one last time and it turned TK’s stomach into a whole flock of butterflies. “Good night, dearest. I’ll call on you and your father tomorrow.”

“I will be dying a slow death until that moment breathes me back to life,” TK lamented.

“As will I.”

TK watched him walk away into the night before finally closing the door against the chill of the Manhattan midnight. For several long moments, he simply leaned against the door and caught his breath, giving thanks to all the forces that managed to bring the two of them together so favorably. He’d have to write to Christina the moment he woke in the morning.

#tarlos period drama #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #of will and wildflowers #brooke writes #IT'S DONE GUYS #enjoy :)#I'm going to sleep now

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terrific-togekiss · 3 years

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What if there was a Walt Disney Fighting Game? [Video Game Concept]

Note: I am well aware, that Disney would probably never say yes in a million years to this idea. Taking their beloved, child friendly characters and having them fight?!

OH THE HORROR?!

I am also aware there have been concepts for this in the past.

Final Fantasy Dissidia was supposed to be a Kingdom Hearts fighting game, but Nomura felt uncomfortable portraying Disney characters in such a violent atmosphere.

And there are sketches of what a Walt Disney fighting game could've been, inspired by Super Smash Bros, before it was canceled. It would've focused on more violent characters such as Gaston, Beast, Ursula, Captain Hook, Captain Silver and the Horned King. But the idea was dropped.

Here's the link.

This entire post is just building and putting together what a Disney fighting game would look like to me, if one came out in today's world. It's all merely speculation and ideas that's been in the back of my head for awhile.

(Special thanks to @mayflower-gal for helping me set this up. 😁)

Anyways, let's get started!

Part 1: The Plot

For the plot, I believe it would have to be something simple, since this an idea for a first game. It's the start of a potentially huge franchise, so I wanna keep it not only simple, but an aspect that helps kick off the potential series. And pull in many fans, old and new of Disney.

Let's take into account one thing: what's a recurring theme across various Disney movies (and overall media)?

Is it the lovable, comic relief sidekick that makes audiences laugh? Is it the songs that kids find themselves singing, long after the tale is done and the curtain has closed? Is it perhaps, the clever celebrity choices for important side characters?

No, It's the one defining aspect that draws in audiences, both new and old, bringing you to fall in love with the characters as the story is told:

Wishes.

Pinocchio wishes to be a real boy. Beast and all his servants wish to be human again. Tiana wishes to have her own restaurant. Ariel wishes to see the world beyond the sea.

Everyone wishes for something more in their life and have dreams that they wish come true.

What if all those wishes were counted? Collected?

Watched over. Much like a parent to their children. Or a teacher to their students.

Found engaging. Found entertaining. Found comforting. Found peaceful. Found introspective.

Looked at with childlike wonder and glee when accomplished.

But frowned on when those wish for selfish desires. And an even deeper disappointment at those very same inhuman desires, coming true.

Good and bad exists inside every person, it's just a matter of what one chooses to act on and stand by at the end of the day.

What someone wishes for is reflective of that.

Now imagine that same being coming to life and wrecking havoc across the Disney universe. Judging for themself, if any of these colorful, imaginative characters, truly deserve their...

Happily,

Ever

After.

Yep, the main plot of the story mode is all the various Disney characters literally fighting for wishes and dreams to come true...

against the LITERAL embodiment of wishing upon a star.

Each playable character having their own unique ending.

Some endings being repeats of your favorite Disney movies, with some minor changes to acknowledge the game's plot. While others are original due to the wide cast of characters that are available, besides your favorite Disney Heroes.

For example, you beat the story mode as say, Pinocchio, he wishes to be a real boy.

I know it sounds very redundant since a majority of these things already happen in the Disney movies, but I feel as though relieving them would be fun. In addition to some original ones that didn't happen with either the villains or less major characters.

It's only the hypothetical first game and I wanted start with something simple, that fans could easily get into. More complex plots, with more character interactions should be saved for any possible sequels.

Part 2: The Gameplay

The game would be your typical 2D fighting game. You have,

Combos exclusive to every character that requires practice.

Playstyles that make each character feel unique.

Special moves for each character to get the upper hand and the main focus in besting your opponent in 1 VS 1 matches.

Of course, there's dialogue before fights in the character intros. With so many to pick from, it had to be put in somewhere.

It resembles 2D fighting games that you've all no doubt heard of, such as Marvel VS Capcom or Street Fighter.

But what would a Disney fighting game have to offer on the table, in order to survive the overall video game market?

It would have to be something unique and a feature that not only gives it originality, but a chance to stand out with so much creativity and innovation. Practically begging fans for more.

Which is why I present to you: Disney Songs.

Or as this game prompt will call them: Musical Finales.

The highlight of many Disney movies and overall media, the music is what leaves a lasting impression on many audiences. Which is not surprising, since Disney is mostly a musical. At least in terms of most of their films.

With so many iconic songs from throughout the company's history, of course I'll be squeezing them somehow!

Each character has a music meter, that can only be filled up with how the player times and follows the beat of the character they play as. Follow the rhythm and beat of a character, and it will fill up quicker. Get cut off by the opponent and it doesn't fill up.

That beat being the music of the stage each player fights on, by attacking to the music and the same time. Think of it like the Sound Battles mechanic in Mother 3.

Every character has four different kinds of attacks: Neutral, Musical, Wonderful and Special.

Neutral Attacks are normal attacks that are mostly used to set up combos.

Musical Attacks are attacks that deal more impact, when timed with the music of the stage.

Wonderful Attacks can be seen as character oriented attacks, that embody the personality and charm of the character you play as. And can be used to entertain the audience. We'll get into that later.

Special Attacks are unique finisher moves that require a separate meter to be filled up, as with most fighting games.

Now what happens when the music meter is full? A Disney Song starts playing of course!

Say you filled up Cinderella's music meter for example, then "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" starts playing, granting some unique abilities for Cinderella.

Each song would grant different outcomes and bonuses for the various characters. They're not Special Attacks, as that's already a separate mechanic already.

For example, "Part of Your World" starts playing if you're playing as Ariel, filling up the stage with water and slowing down the opponent, giving Ariel a chance to either take advantage of that, bump items into them or create big waves of water.

But what happens if BOTH characters trigger the music meter at the same time?!

Well, that's where this gimmick becomes a fight for which song keeps on playing!

Both songs would start playing, both at the same time and volume. Except, both characters have to compete to see which is stronger.

This is done by the two characters fighting, before triggering a rhythm game between the two. Once one is the victor, the other song fades, while the other stays playing. Doubling the duration of that character's Musical Finale.

Another mechanic is the Entertainment Meter. Every level you fight on has one, that determines which fighter the audience likes more. Via Wonderful attacks, you can charm the audience into supporting you more. This activates things like getting healing items or stat boosts in power and speed. Some of your favorite Disney sidekicks even provide aid from the audience!

It's almost like watching a Disney movie live and being able to interact with the story!

Or the battle system in Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door.

I feel as though this is the best way of keeping the game interesting, giving it an identity of its own and still embodying that magic people will grow to love. It can also lead to some entertaining interactions in the background or foreground of a stage, as the music meter also brings in characters that would not be playable, but support playable characters nonetheless. Like Flounder and Sebastian.

Of course, either feature could be turned off if you're not a fan of that sort of thing, but that's a given.

Part 3: The Stages

With many Disney movies pick from, it's no wonder there's plenty of choices to pick from. Since this is the first game, I chose to focus more on the movies. Here's my take.

Steamboat (Mickey Mouse cartoons)

Duckberg (Ducktales)

Spoonerville (A Goofy Movie)

Dwarven Forest (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves)

Wonderland (Alice in Wonderland)

Monstro (Pinocchio)

The Prince's Ball (Cinderella)

Neverland (Peter Pan)

Forbidden Mountains (Sleeping Beauty)

The Coliseum (Hercules)

Andy's Room (Toy Story)

Elsa's Ice Castle (Frozen)

San Fransokyo Institute of Technology (Big Hero 6)

Atlantica (The Little Mermaid)

House of Mouse (House of Mouse)

The West Wing (Beauty and the Beast)

Cave of Wonders (Aladdin)

Pride Rock (The Lion King)

Ant Island (A Bug's Life)

Tamatoa's Trove (Moana)

Hawaii (Lilo and Stitch)

Headquarters (Inside Out)

Mor'du's Ruins (Brave)

Big Ben (The Great Mouse Detective)

Notre Dame (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

Merlin's Cottage (Sword in the Stone)

Emperor's Palace (Mulan)

The Great Before (Soul)

Todayland (Meet The Robinsons)

Paradise Falls (Up)

Zootopia (Zootopia)

Monsters Inc (Monsters Inc)

Nomanisan Island (The Incredibles)

The Bayou (The Princess and the Frog)

Atlantis (Atlantis: The Lost Empire)

Halloweentown (The Nightmare Before Christmas)

Oakey Oaks (Chicken Little)

Spirit Mountain (Brother Bear)

Sherwood Forest (Robin Hood)

Treasure Planet (Treasure Planet)

Horned King's Castle (The Black Cauldron)

The Secret Lab (The Emperor's New Groove)

Bald Mountain (Fantasia)

The Grid (Tron)

World's End (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Radiator Springs (Cars)

Grandmother Willow's Forest (Pocahontas)

East High School (High School Musical)

The Axiom (WALL-E)

Regent's Park (101 Dalmatians)

New Mushroom Town High School (Onward)

Happily Ever After Castle (Walt Disney Opening)

Part 4: The Roster

The bread and butter of many fighting games, the roster is no doubt one I had a bit of trouble putting together. With so many characters from over the years, it's no surprise. But since this is the outline of a possible first game, here's my interpretation.

Also, the cast is big to avoid being too barren or dull.

And because I had a lot of fun putting it all together.

Mickey Mouse (Mickey Mouse): The all around character of the game, he mostly fights by a series of cartoonish tricks, magic tricks and his paintbrush from Epic Mickey. His Special Attack would have him break the fourth wall like and rewind the fight like an old film projector in reverse. Except he heals, while the opponent receives twice the damage. His Musical Finale "Sorcerer's Apprentice" has him use Yensid's Sorcerer hat to its fullest and give his overall moveset more flashes to distract the opponent and slow them down.

Donald Duck (Donald Duck): Everyone's favorite, greedy mallard and the world's angriest duck. Donald would fight mainly with toon force, his fists, his bad luck and his anger. The more damage he takes, the angrier he gets. His Special Attack would have him don the Duck Avenger persona from his PK days and use a series of superhero gadgets to finish the opponent. His Musical Finale "The Three Caballeros" trades his anger for Jose Carioca and Panchito Pistoles showing up, making him happy. As they hurt the opponent, each time they hit Donald, to keep him happy.

Goofy (Goofy): Everyone's favorite Disney dad, Goofy joins the fight as not the brightest but with the biggest heart. He has toon force to aid him in some unconventional ways. His Special Attack would have him become Super Goof from his older days. His Musical Finale "Eye To Eye" would restore health everytime he dodges an attack, with a dancing flair to it.

Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves): The first Disney Princess, Snow White makes her debut and she's not alone. The Seven Dwarves direct most of her attacks, such as tossing rocks, mining tools as weapons and even just grabbing the opponent and tossing them. Snow White herself can sing and command woodland animals to tie up opponents or just fight to defend her. Her Special Attack would have the Dwarves try to roll a boulder, only for lightning to strike on the opponent and the boulder as extra damage. Her Musical Finale "Whistle While You Work" will call on a huge number of forest animals, as they tidy up the stage and Snow White, slowly replenishing her health and slowing down the opponent.

Pinocchio (Pinocchio): Don't lie in his presence, as that nose is not only for show. Pinocchio fights mostly by using his nose as a staff, the Blue Fairy bringing other toys to life to aid him and Jiminy Cricket distracting the opponent with music. Pinocchio's Special Attack would have him wish upon a star and turn himself into a real boy, as the opponent is turned into a puppet and loses damage as a result. Pinocchio's Musical Finale "I've Got No Strings" would cover the stage in thin lines used for puppets: if the opponent touches one, their frozen briefly. If a projectile attack hits, the same happens.

Cinderella (Cinderella): The bell of the ball and someone whom never gives up on kindness, Cinderella will use the dance moves she showed off at the ball for her moveset, having a dancing and musical feel to how she plays and flashy dances to win against the the opponent. With her Fairy Godmother using her magic to help her, such as flashes of light. Her Special Attack would have the clock strike midnight and she leaves behind her glass slipper: once the opponent touches it they get weighed down by a giant magic dress. Cinderella's Musical Finale "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" would have the Fairy Godmother cast a series of spells over the stage, as a new carriage pops up every time Cinderella pulls off a combo. The carriages run over the opponent and can even carry Cinderella to safety.

Peter Pan (Peter Pan): Leader of the Lost Boys and Captain Hook's second biggest pain in the butt, Peter Pan and Tinkerbell are here. Peter Pan has a pocket knife with him and Tinker Bell's pixie dust for aerial attacks. His Special Attack would have him toss a bunch of gold on the opponent, as the rest of the Lost Boys tackles them and beats them up for the treasures. His Musical Finale "You Can Fly" would create a trail of pixie dust behind him, that randomly causes the opponent to either jump too high or too low.

Captain Hook (Peter Pan): Keep all 'ticks' and 'tocks' away from this pirate! Captain Hook has a wide array of hooks to switch between, a flintlock pistol and his sword to win the battle. His Special Attack would have him run away from the Tick-Tock the Crocodile, as said crocodile attacks the opponent instead of Hook. His Musical Finale "A Pirate's Life/Elegant Captain Hook" would call his ship the Jolly Rodger onto the stage, as the pirates on the ship occasionally throw knives at the opponent and shoot at them, everytime Hook is caught in a combo and can't escape.

Aurora (Sleeping Beauty): Aurora, sleeping beauty herself, is doing anything but sleep and her guardians are making sure of that! Her attacks has the Good Fairies use their magic in numerous ways, such as moving objects, animating objects and even petrification. Her Special Attack has Prince Philip show up with the Sword of Truth and the Shield of Virtue, to deal heavy damage on the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Once Upon A Dream" boosts her stats everytime she's hit.

Maleficent (Sleeping Beauty): The Mistress of all Evil, Maleficent uses a wide array of magic powers from cursed, throny vines, to her iconic green fires, she's one tough fighter from a distance. Her Special Attack would have her turn into a dragon and breath fire down on the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Once Upon A Dream" would have her make the opponent more drowsy, each time they hit her, until falling asleep, unless they keep moving.

Robin Hood (Robin Hood): The sly fox of England and one talented theif, this fox focuses on disguises, archery, swordsmanship and woodsmanship to make his way. His Special Attack would have authorities show up to arrest him, as they rain down arrows on the opponent in the process. His Musical Finale "Running Through The Forest" would allow him to dodge all attacks, without needing to hit the controls or input buttons.

Basil of Baker Street (The Great Mouse Detective): World's greatest detective! At least in the mouse world that is. Basil would investigate the stage of the fight, much like a crime scene and even pick up clues that double as weapons, such as a propeller or a mouse trap. His Special Attack would have him investigate a crime scene that hurt the opponent, before pushing them aside as 'worthless' evidence. His Musical Finale "Let Me Be Good To You" would have him require no further evidence and counter each hit with a deduction on his opponent's crime and even stop them from performing combos. Doing damage in the process.

Professor Ratigan (The Great Mouse Detective): Never call him a rat. Ever. This crime boss of the miniature crime world be no stranger to fist fights and gleefully take a swing at your demise, whether it's his fists, cane or traps. If not him, then his minions are more than happy to drown some orphans! His Special Attack would have him call his pet cat, Felicia to devour the opponent. His Musical Finale "The World's Greatest Criminal Mind" would give him more durability to hits, more destruction to the stage and traps cover more range on the stage.

Ariel (The Little Mermaid): Princess of the Sea, everyone's favorite mermaid is ready to explore beyond the sea. Armed with her father's trident, some amazing swimming skills and various sea animals at her command, she's more than ready. Her Special Attack would have her conjure a giant wave, that also covers the opponent in sea creatures. Her Musical Finale "Part Of Your World" fills the stage with water and can have Ariel bump floating objects into the opponent.

Ursula (The Little Mermaid): The last sea witch you would want to cross paths with, Ursula has eels to do her biding, poisonous ink clouds and even thunderclouds. Her Special Attack would have her turn giant via King Triton's trident and use the added power to attack the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Poor Unfortunate Souls" has her disguise herself as the opponent and slowly regain health from all souls being eaten by her. As a bonus, if she's infront of a mirror that's on the stage, her reflection will be her true form.

Belle (Beauty and the Beast): My, quite an odd girl, reading books and getting on the field of battle?! Belle's entire moveset would revolve around books; not magic books, just books on the rest of the cast and fairytales overall. She would be able to switch between each of these books and use what she's learned from them. For Example, 'Romeo and Juliet' gives Belle immunity to stat changes and rose themed weapons that hurt the opponent, like throwing weapons. 'Aladdin' gives her a magic ring that can conjure up magic smoke, furniture on the foe and teleport her. 'Jack and the Beanstalk' plants vines that can raise her up or entangle the foe. There's more books at her disposal, but that's just the general idea. Her Special Attack has her father ride in on his invention, chopping up an entire forest until the opponent is covered and crushed by chopped up logs. Her Musical Finale "Tale As Old As Time" gives her the power to 'skip' a fairytale, turning each of her attacks into the endings from the books. For example, 'Aladdin' would trap the opponent in an oil lamp, leaving room for her to attack.

Beast (Beauty and the Beast): The poor and cruel prince, turned into a monster as evil as the one in his heart. Beast has his boost in strength from his beastly form and claws to defeat the opponent. The curse not only affected him: his servants are by his side. Lumiere can incinerate the opponent or plant fires on the ground, Cogsworth can distract them with timed clock sounds, Mrs. Potts can spill tea to slip up the opponent, Chip will knock over bookshelves and Wardrobe can block attacks. His Special Attack would turn the opponent into a piece of furniture, leaving them open for attacks: each opponent having a different transformation. His Musical Finale "Be Our Guest" would have every attack with one of his servants, also heal Beast in addition to hurting the opponent.

Gaston (Beauty and the Beast): Nooo oooone's slick as Gaston! Quick as Gaston! No one's neck is as incredibly thick as Gaston! He's especially good at combo breaking! Boy what a guy that Gaston! Gaston has his inconic blunderbass and his fists, along with a bow and quiver and a hunting knife to deal with an opponent, almost as if they were an animal he's hunting. His Special Attack would have an angry mob charge at the opponent and beat them up. His Musical Finale "Gaston" gives him a strength boost, everytime he pulls off a combo successfully.

Aladdin (Aladdin): Everyone's favorite street rat and theif, he's not alone on the field of battle as Abu and Genie are here to help him. Abu can cling to the opponent and hit them repeatedly, Magic Carpet can be used for aerial attacks, Aladdin has a sword that he 'borrowed' from a guard and Genie can shape-shift in a variety of ways to best the opponent. Aladdin's Special Attack would have Genie distract the opponent, as Aladdin steals something off them and uses it to beat them. Aladdin's Music Finale "Friend Like Me" would have Genie grant a wish, each time Aladdin gets a combo, such as a stat boosts and healing.

Jasmine (Aladdin): The sultan's own daughter that would rather be anything than a prize to be given away. She has learned self defense skills, her father's guards and her pet tiger Rajah in her moveset. Her Special Attack would have the guards arrest the opponent and toss them into prison, as they struggle to escape and take damage. Her Musical Finale "A Whole New World" has one the Seven Wonders of the world occasionally pop up in the background to hurt the opponent, as the fight goes on.

Jafar (Aladdin): The Sultan's Royal vizer of Agrabah and one whom believes he should rule Agrabah. Jafar has his magic staff to hypnotize and cast spells onto his foe. Occasionally tapping into the phenenomal, Cosmic power of his Genie form to do some real damage. And Iago is here as well... mostly to complain. His Special Attack would have him become an all powerful Genie and Iago wishing for ways to 'hurt' (not kill) the opponent. His Musical Finale "You're Only Second Rate" would boost all of his stats and attacks, except he can't KO the opponent until the Musical Finale is done.

Simba (The Lion King): King of the Pride Rock and son of Mufasa, the Lion King himself is more than prepared with his claws and iconic roar. His roar can even control the weather to strike lightning and cause windstorms. His Special Attack would have him call on the spirit of his father, Mufasa, as the two of them roar at the opponent. His Musical Finale "Circle Of Life" will have him remember, how we are all connected and draw on the life-force of nature, slowly healing him and giving his roars more range.

Scar (The Lion King): Mufasa's little brother and King after his timely demise, Scar has his claws and his hyenas to make short work of his foe as if their nothing more than a light snack. His Special Attack would toss the opponent of a cliff, into a Wildebeest stampede just like in the movie. As a bonus, he would say 'long live the king's son' if Simba is the opponent. His Musical Finale "Be Prepared" has him do damage without needing to attack the opponent and just walking into the opponent.

Pocahontas (Pocahontas): Daughter of Chief Powhatan, this Disney Princess has the skills necessary in order to survive and win. Her Special Attack would have her people come in to fight alongside her and best the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Colors Of The Wind" gives her attacks more launching power and each dodge she does generates winds that hurt the foe.

Governor John Ratcliffe (Pocahontas): The main villain of Pocahontas, this greedy scoundrel will do anything to claim what he believes is rightfully his. He has a sword and uses his position of power to call his men into the fray. His Special Attack would have his men charge like in the movie at the opponent. His Musical Finale "Mine, Mine, Mine" prevents the opponent from interrupting his attacks and tripping over any gold sticking out of the ground.

Quasimodo (The Hunchback Of Notre Dame): The hunchback of notre Dame himself and quite the sweetheart, he just wishes to see the outside world. His job as the ringer of the bells comes in handy to stun them, swing bells at them, his talented acrobatic skills and surprising strength. His Special Attack would have him reenact the Festival of Fools and have the opponent be caught up in all the chaos. His Musical Finale "Out There" turns all of his bell attacks, into soothing sounds, that heals him.

Esmeralda (The Hunchback Of Notre Dame): An outcasts, like many other outcasts of Notre Dame, she's picked up on a multitude of tricks to evade capture. Such as illusionary tricks to trick opponents and various circus acts from the Festival of Fools. Her Special Attack has Phoebus teleport out of a field of smoke and beat the opponent. Her Musical Finale "God Help The Outcasts" plants multiple pillars of light over the stage, that burn the opponent and heal Esmeralda.

Judge Claude Frollo (The Hunchback Of Notre Dame): Someone whom believes only he can purge the world of evil and that all he does is for the greater good. Frollo, due to his old age mostly uses his sword, his horse and his 'fears' to end the opponent. Those 'fears' being cloaked figures that defend Frollo and burn the sins of his opponent. His Special Attack burns the stage, with the opponent caught up in the flames being tied to a stake. His Musical Finale "Hellfire" burns the opponent every time they hit and touch Frollo.

Arthur (Sword in the Stone): The rightful king of England, proven by pulling the sword in the stone, Arthur is ready to be king. Merlin's apprentice is armed with the sword of legend: Excalibur and his mentor Merlin is there to provide some magic aid by turning Arthur into various animals and predict the opponents attacks with foresight. Arthur's Special Attack has Merlin turn into a germ to infect the opponent. Arthur's Musical Finale "Higitus Figitus" grants Arthur increased weight, almost as if he's the sword in the stone and making him harder to launch and knock away.

Hercules (Hercules): The son of the Greek God Zeus, Hercules goes to prove himself as a true hero and this brawl may be his greatest trial yet. With his power as a Greek God, granting him immeasurable strength, agility and endurance. And his pet Pegasus shows up for aerial attacks. His Special Attack has his father Zeus come in and hurl his thunderbolt at the opponent. His Musical Finale "Zero To Hero" increases his durability each time he pulls off a combo, making him immune to attacks at times.

Hades (Hercules): Greek God of the underworld and lord of the dead, Hades will claim victory. In addition to mastery of fire and smoke, Hades can shift between generally calm and collected, to angered and enraged, which affects the range and power of his attacks. Pain and Panic also shapeshift to provide some help. His Special Attack has the Titans show up and attack the opponent. His Musical Finale "My Town" floods the stage withdead souls that slowly deplete the health of the opponent.

Mr. Incredible (The Incredibles): One of the greatest superheroes whom ever lived, in spite of an unneeded early retirement from the government. Robert "Bob" Parr, known to the public as Mr. Incredible, has his moveset revolve around his superstrength and invulnerability, also being able to use the environment to his advantage like uprooting trees. His Special Attack calls in the rest of The Incredibles; Dash, Violet, Elastigirl and Jack-Jack to help take down the opponent as a family. His Musical Finale "The Incredibles" has his attacks all release shock waves that occasionally make debris hit the opponent, like it's the intensity of a comic book.

Syndrome (The Incredibles): You better catch him while be monologues as he does not play around! The wannabe superhero uses zero point energy to toss the opponent and send objects flying their way. His Special Attack calls in the Omnidroid to make short work of the opponent. His Musical Finale "Kronos Unveiled" forces the opponent to not stand still for too long or repeat the same attacks, or else the Omnidroid will fire lasers at them almost as if their being analyzed.

Mulan (Mulan): From lying to save her father's life, to saving all of China to joining other famous Disney heroes on the field of battle, Mulan has been through a lot. She has a sword, fireworks, a staff and a fan to best her foes. Mushu tags along, spitting fireballs at the opponent and tricking them into attacking smoke illusions that resemble Mulan. Her Special Attack has fireworks hit a snowy mountain, crushing the opponent under an avalanche. Her Musical Finale "Reflections" has Mulan disguise herself and blend in a crowd that slowly came onto the battlefield. The opponent attacking a random person will have them retaliate and hurt them.

Jack Skellington (The Nightmare Before Christmas): The pumpkin king and the patron of Halloween, his title comes with a wide array of pumpkin bombs, a flexible and detachable skeleton body. His Special Attack would have him trap the opponent in a series of giant pumpkin bombs, before his pet dog Zero lights them up. His Musical Finale "This Is Halloween" plants a series of tricks and treats all over the stage: treats for Jack that heals him and tricks that leave the opponent in a scared state. They take more damage while scared.

Oogie Boogie (The Nightmare Before Christmas): A literal burlap sack of nothing but bugs, Oogie Boogie has those very same bugs come out and harm the opponent. From spiders that tangle them up, to tarantulas that poison them to flies that hoist them up, he's as gross as sounds. His Special Attack would have him inhale the opponent and let his bugs do the work. His Musical Finale "Oogie Boogie's Song" increases his luck of landing higher damage, by also hitting a dice on the stage.

Tarzan (Tarzan): A man raised by apes, Tarzan has the strength to even keep up with apes and survive in the forest. In addition to his amazing strength, Tarzan can also swing from vines, use his impressive smell and hearing to counter attacks and a spear. His Special Attack has him command an army of apes to beat up the opponent. His Musical Finale "Son Of Man" puts fruits on the trees he swings from that he can heal himself with: since the opponent is not Tarzan the same fruits either poison them or make them dizzy.

Yzma and Kronk (The Emperor's New Groove): The former advisor of Emperor Kuzco and her most loyal henchman. Kronk does the fighting with his astounding strength and Yzma will be in the background, occasionally throwing potions on the opponent. Kronk will pull the lever, that will do a variety of things such as drop a bust of Yzma, a giant rock, a vase, etc. Their Special Attack has Yzma yell 'PULL THE LEVER KRONK!' sending the opponent and Yzma down a trap door to below the stage. Leaving it up to interpretation what happens, as Yzma casually walks back to the stage with a crocodile biting her leg. Their Musical Finale "Snuff Out The Light" replaces Yzma's potions with singing that prevents the health bar from going any lower.

Milo J. Thatch (Atlantis: The Lost Empire): An orphan that grew up to be quite the cartographer to even finding the lost city of Atlantis. Since he's not much of a fighter, the friends he made on the trip will do the fighting for him. Vinny plants explosions, Mole digs holes and attacks from the ground, Sweet heals Milo and boosts his durability, Audrey sends vehicles at the opponent and Cookie leaves food for people to trip over. He's even picked up on some Atlantean magic from Kida. His Special Attack has him pilot an Atlantean cruiser, shooting lasers at the opponent. His Musical Finale "Where The Dream Takes You" reverse the opponents controls, every time Milo lands a hit, almost as if their lost without a map.

Kida Nedakh (Atlantis: The Lost Empire): Princess of Atlantis and the current Queen, Kids is armed with a spear and a connection to the Heart of Atlantis, granting her forcefields and runes that dish out the ancient city's might. Her Special Attack summons a giant tsunami with the opponent being hit as Atlantis sinks. Her Musical Finale "Kida Returns" has the stage covered in runes, as the guardians of Atlantis will hit the opponent if they step on a rune.

Stitch (Lilo and Stitch): Experiment 626, also known as Stitch is an alien that befriended the kind-hearted Lilo Pelaki. Stitch is indestructible, has four plasma blasters, can roll up into a ball and lift up to 3000 times his own weight. His Special Attack calls in his cousins to each hit the opponent once, before Stitch himself smacks them with a car. His Musical Finale "Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride" doubles the strength of any attacks timed with the music.

Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean): Captain Jack Sparrow comes to the battle with his signature sword, musket and flintlock pistol. His Special Attack has the Black Pearl ram the opponent and shoot cannonballs at the opponent. His Musical Finale "He's A Pirate" makes him impossible to KO, he can still take damage though.

Sulley and Mike Wazowski (Monsters Inc): The dynamic duo and best friends, Sully and Mike fight with the former scaring the opponent and the latter being pulled from the background, used as a ball to hit opponents. The more combos they land, the more scare is generated as energy: this energy being used to power machines to attack the opponent. Their Special Attack has the stage be overloaded with scare energy, to the point of canisters bouncing all over the stage and hitting the opponent, much like in Monsters University. Their Musical Finale "If I Didn't Have You" makes the opponent laugh each time they hit Sulley, generating energy and leaving them open to attack.

Jim Hawkins (Treasure Planet): Jim Hawkins, someone with the 'makings of greatness' according to Captain Silver has a chance to prove that here. With his solar surfer to pull off some amazing tricks, a knife and a blaster, he can hold his own just fine. His Special Attack would simply be Treasure Planet blowing up, with the opponent caught in the explosion, as he flies away on a ship. His Musical Finale "I'm Still Here" gives him the markings of greatness, in the form of stat boosts everytime he pulls off a trick on his solar surfer.

Captain John Silver (Treasure Planet): The fearsome pirate cyborg and only real father figure to Jim Hawkins, Captain Silver is ready to use those pirate skills from over the years to claim his treasure. As a cyborg, he has a wide selection of tools and weapons, such as lasers, a cybernetic eye, guns, a sword, a cleaver, a battering ram, the list goes on. His Special Attack has the opponent fly into space, while he leaves on a pirate ship. His Musical Finale "I'm Still Here" fills the stage with comets that can freeze the opponent if they come into contact with them and increases the strength of Silver's lasers if they pass through.

Merida (Brave): The Scottish princess and daughter of Queen Elinor and King Fergus, enters the battle with her archery skills and swordsmanship to win the fight. Her Special Attack has her ride in on her horse Angus, delivering a series of arrows to finish off the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Touch The Sky" makes all her arrows hit the opponent, without fail.

Kenai and Koda (Brother Bear): The bear brothers, one born a bear and the other cursed to turn into a bear. Kenai and Koda fight as a team of bears from claws to wilderness skills they picked up. Even the Great Spirits watch over and protect them, by influencing nature to protect the brothers. Their Special Attack has the spirits of Sitka and Koda's mother come in to protect them and deal with the enemy. Their Musical Finale "On My Way" increases the range of their block, with the Great Spirits protecting them.

Tiana and Naveen (The Princess and the Frog): A hardworker that believes the only way you can make it in the world, is through hardwork. Even if that meant kissing a frog. Tiana has a wide assortment of cooking utensils to win. With Naveen distracting them with singing and dancing. They can switch to being frogs, where they use their tongues to tangle up the opponent and hop off lily pads. Their Special Attack has Mama Odie turn the opponent into a series of animals, before sending them away with her Voodoo magic. Their Musical Finale "Almost There" gives Tiana a golden glow that greatly increases the range of their attacks and distracts the opponent with golden glows.

Dr. Facilier (The Princess and the Frog): The Shadow Man himself and one whom turned Naveen into a frog, Dr. Facilier fights with his cane, Voodoo magic, shadows and spell casting. His Special Attack has him pull the opponent into a deal, as their dragged down by the Voodoo Spirits. His Musical Finale "Friends On The Other Side" let's him take a gaze into the opponent's future, turning all of his attacks into counters, if they hit the same time as the opponent's attacks.

Rapunzel (Tangled): The lost princess of the Kingdom of Corona, blessed with magic hair and has quite the efficient frying pan. Her hair can not only heal herself a bit, but can be swung from, tie up the opponent and makes for a surprising whip. Her Special Attack has Flynn and Maximus ride in, with Rapunzel hitching a ride, as the three take down the opponent. Her Musical Finale "I See The Light" fills up the stage with lanterns, that can blind the opponent if they touch any.

Hiro and Baymax (Big Hero 6): The child genius and the helper robot turned fighter have become quite the crime fighting duo, that honor Tadashi's wish of wanting to help people. Baymax does the fighting, with Hiro on his back, such as martial arts, rocket fist, an energy blade and sonic blaster. Their Special Attack calls in the rest of the Big Hero 6, as they teamup and take down the opponent. Their Musical Finale "Immortals" assuming they get the rights to the song has Baymax dodge every attack that comes, without needing to move the controller and slowly heal up.

Judy Hopps (Zootopia): A young bunny from Bunnyburrow that came to Zootopia to pursue her dreams of being cop and help people. Her bunny physiology grants her enhanced hearing, quick agility, high jumping and she has trained herself to take down foes much bigger than her. Her Special Attack has her do her job as a cop and arrest the opponent, with the entire police force joining in to help. Her Musical Finale "Try Everything" plants tourist attractions all over the stage, that can hurt the opponent and heal Judy.

Elsa (Frozen): The Queen of Arendelle and the Ice Queen herself, forced to conceal don't feel, don't let them know. But she'll be doing anything but that here! Elsa has ice powers to freeze the opponent, create pillars of ice, ice slides, ice skates etc. Her Special Attack calls in Marshmallow to deal with the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Let It Go" allows her ice powers to come to life and aid her in battle.

Moana (Moana): Moana of Motuni, whom has sailed the sea to return the Heart of Te Fiti with Maui. She has a harpoon and an oar, along with the ocean helping her and watching over her. Her Special Attack returns the Heart of Te Fiti to Te Fiti, whom fully heals Moana, temporarily boosting her attack. Moana's Musical Finale "How Far I'll Go" covers the stage in water that has boats to hit the opponent and granting Moana faster speed.

Maui (Moana): The Maori Demigod of the wind and sea, with quite the number of feats from over the years. With his magic fish hook, he can shapeshift into a number of animals, his most common being a hawk. His Special Attack being lassoing the sun into the opponent. His Musical Finale "You're Welcome" makes all damage to Maui, take longer to leave an impact.

And that's that. A LOT longer than I thought it would be. Now your probably thinking, what about all the other Disney media? It's an idea for the first game, so other characters (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Scrooge McDuck, Goliath, Kim Possible, etc.) would appear in a potential sequel.

Or DLC, since every game these days has it.

Thanks so much for reading all this and taking the time to do! I would love to hear some thoughts and feedback! I had a blast making all this and would like to see if you're interested in hearing more video game ideas.

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themuseic · 3 years

Text

Only Fools (Chapter 11)

(Art credit: @clumsycopy)

Fic Summary: Sent to Boone County, West Virginia on an assignment, you find yourself engulfed your work. How could you possibly find time for anything else? Even if “anything else” includes the tall, kind, and handsome bartender from down the road?

Word Count: 2.6k

Read Chapter 10 here.

Read here on AO3.

Warnings: Sad Times Still, Violence Against Reader (Not From Clyde), Animal Attack, Blood and Injury, Mention of Hospitals.

A/N: Heed the warnings, and please skip this chapter if it is not something you would like to read! I’ll make sure to include a summary at the end of this and at the beginning of the next chapter if you would like to sit this one out! <3

The morning was quiet. Not even the birds sang to ring in the new day. You dragged yourself out of bed just before dawn, when the room was still dark, determined to make it out and back from the trail before Clyde would even be awake and eating breakfast at the trailer. Setting all of the cameras so close to Clyde’s home was efficient in both of your minds when you had first put them out. Now, it was just an unfortunate obstacle for you to work around.

The plush layers of snow gear felt heavy on your body and did nothing but add to the weight on your shoulders from your fight with Clyde. You moved stiffly, your body aching and sore as you pulled yourself into the front seat of the car and set off back towards the trailer.

Boone County was grey that morning. You didn’t see another soul on the road, no early birds walking along the highway and no cars outpacing them. It felt as though no living thing wanted to come across your path, and after the night prior, you didn’t want to come across them either.

You parked along the road leading to Clyde’s trailer, just out of sight of the trailer. The last thing you wanted to do was announce your arrival with the shine of headlights into Clyde’s windows, and you figured that would be the safest choice. With your backpack full of the equipment you would need to prime the area for the next round of data, you trudged down the long driveway.

You remembered the first time you had walked up to the trailer, bright-eyed and ready for the prospect of beginning.

Now, the porch was empty. The lights were off. You shook your head and trudged past the window on the end of the trailer. The snow crunched underneath your foot and you flinched at the noise. It had no chance of waking up Clyde. He was tucked in, asleep and warm in the trailer no doubt, but you wanted no possibility of that happening.

The trail had lengthened, hadn’t it? The winding path felt like it stretched into eternity in the few short weeks since you had trekked out on it. You sniffed and wiped your nose, staring down at each footprint as you walked. There was barely any noise in the forest. Even the creek had seemed to reduce from a babble to a quiet rush, and the birds had long since retreated south.

Winter mornings were always still, but that particular morning was oppressive in its silence. You had never walked this trail without company and the sting of loneliness was sharp on your heart. What hurt the most was the knowledge that this pain was your own doing, your own burden to bear. Every word that had spilled from Clyde’s mouth had been another stinging truth you had tried to avoid, another reminder that you had dragged him along behind you. And now that you had confronted it, the space beside you was empty. A solitary tear dripped from the end of your nose and you flung it into a bank of snow, trying to remove yourself of the feeling.

You were at the camera spot before you knew it and you set to work immediately. The faster you worked, the sooner you could wrap yourself in blankets and sorrow back at the hotel. You pulled the first camera down from the high branch it was perched on as soon as you came upon the clearing. It was easy enough to pull the machine down from above, and you set to work to remove and replace the memory card. You slipped the small mechanical chip into a protective case and straightened back up to grab the next machine down from a tree.

The soft snap of a twig froze you in place.

You didn’t dare breathe, so when an unmistakeable huff and snort sounded off behind you, you knew you weren’t alone. Quieter than a mouse, you tried to swallow, and slowly, oh so slowly, you began to turn on your heel.

You were met with green-yellow eyes staring back up at you. The kohl markings around its eyes only served to make the impact more vibrant as they stood out against the tawny fur of the animal’s face.

It was a nightmare and a blessing wrapped in one. In no world did you think you might come face to face with the beast you were in Boone to study, but here you found yourself eye to eye with one. A stunning, powerful eastern cougar stood before you, its eyes boring holes through you as they tracked every movement in your body.

The extra fur of a winter coat on the animal was far from the typical comforting fluff you might spy on a beloved family pet. No, the cougar was massive, all fur and bone and muscle. Even through the extra padding, you would have sworn you could see every ripple of muscle through its shoulders and back as it started padding towards you.

It prowled low along the white forest floor, the fur of its stomach brushing the snow clumps on the ground. The icy particles collected on the tips of its fur and dragged a soft scratching noise from the clumps as they were pulled along.

You were frozen. It was always a hazard, of course, the fact that you might run into a cat on the trail. But never had you truly entertained it as a possibility. Your breath caught and you leaned down to pick up a rock at your feet.

The hairs of the cat’s back raised slightly, and it pulled its lips back and over its teeth, a low growl vibrating through the air. A chill of terror shot through your spine, and you reacted in a flash.

You shot onto your toes and yelled as loud as you possibly could. “Get back!” you exclaimed, you pleaded, as you waved your arms above your head, rock in hand.

The cougar dropped lower in its stance and snarled as it began to step closer towards you.

“Fuck!” you spat as you chucked the hunk of rock towards the animal. It missed its paw by a hairsbreadth and did not phase the animal for even a second.

Instead, the cat lunged towards you.

Ears laid back flat against its head and front paws extended wide, the cat flew through the air with a harrowing scream and you yelled in a grotesque response as you attempted to scramble just out of its reach. The cat landed in front of you, and before you had time to think it maw was latched around your ankle and it bit down hard. You screamed as you felt your joint snap and your hands flew out ahead of you to grapple at the snow, trying to find some sort of purchase to drag yourself away from your attacker.

The fine powder of the snow disintegrated against your attempts to claw yourself from its grasp and you began to kick at the face of the cougar. The last thing you wanted was to injure the animal, but you needed to get away, to scare it off. You twisted where you lay on the ground and you yelled, trying to appear larger and more ferocious than you actually were. You kicked and screamed and did everything in your power to fight the cougar off.

There was no pain in your leg, the adrenaline made sure of that.

You kicked at its face, heartbroken to fight against such a beautiful creature, but determined to fight for your life. You twisted in the cat’s grip as you tried to distance yourself from the maw of the beast. Your hand reached towards a snow-encrusted birch tree that was just out of reach when a splitting pain roared across your side.

You cried out, screamed at the top of your lungs. Adrenaline could do nothing for the severity of the gashes ripped into your side by the razor-sharp claws of the beast. It was nearly debilitating as you tried to drag yourself away from the cougar, towards safety.

The pervasive burn of the movement stopped you in your efforts. You could barely lift your left arm above your head, let alone pull your body anywhere. Something felt wet and warm against your torso and you blinked that realization from your mind.

A hot huff of breath wafted over your back and you curled into a tight ball. Every muscle in your body was alight with a need to fight, to stay alive. And you were determined to make sure that would happen.

You could feel the pressure of the cougar biting at your shoulder, but you felt nothing besides that. Your head swam.

Suddenly, the pressure was gone from your body. Your body was released from the grasp of the cougar and you felt overwhelmed with the chill of the winter air on your skin, newly exposed by the gashes in your coat and pants.

You could hear muffled, distant grunt, the sounds of a struggle. That noise that sounded uncomfortably like a woman’s scream sounded through the air again, and you flinched. A deep male grunt followed after, and you heard an angry bellow resound through the West Virginia mountains.

You cried softly to yourself as you refused to look up and towards the sound. And then suddenly, the sounds stopped, and all that you could hear was a roaring static.

You stayed curled in on yourself. Your side was screaming, the sensation a burning and consuming kind of pain. You could feel the warm rivulets of your blood soaking into the hem of your coat, and you shuddered. No part of your body was your own - your limbs refused to cooperate and release you from the tight ball you had tucked yourself into.

Suddenly, you felt something tug on your shoulder. The pressure was back. With a sob, you ripped away from the feeling, away from the finality that you were terrified would follow. The feeling moved to your hip and pushed you over, and you could feel something supporting your back. A sharp pressure was applied to your side and you cried out, your eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to comfort yourself. If you couldn’t see your attacker, you wouldn’t be so scared. Or at least, so you thought.

Before you had time to muster the strength to wiggle from the grasp around you, your back was lifted forward from the ground. Disoriented, you keened and grappled at the limb against your side as you tried to push it off of you, and that’s when you heard the last low sound before you fell unconscious.

“Shh, darlin’,” the deep voice rumbled. “I’ve got you.”

~~~

“Mel, can you drive any faster?”

“Clyde, I’m so sorry, but I’m goin’ as fast as I can manage right now.” Mellie sighed through her nose, her hands white-knuckled as they gripped the steering wheel. “Muskers ain’t even out now, but with the storm and all, the tires just can’t take it, and-”

“Mellie.” Sylvia’s commanding tone cut her off, stopping Mellie’s rambling. Mellie flicked her eyes up to glance at Sylvia in the rearview mirror and met her hardened stare. “Sorry,” she whispered. Mellie’s eyes drifted to her brother’s reflection, his pinched brow and pained face meeting her own in the mirror. “She’ll be alright,” she assured him, hoping to believe it herself.

Clyde glanced down at the girl he cradled in the crook of his arm, her ashen face tucked into his chest, and his breath caught in his throat. She was curled up across the backseat of the car, her crooked ankle held stable by Sylvia’s trained hands. Clyde’s eyes were drawn to the thick pad of gauze he pressed into her side and noticed that a small spot of red was beginning to peek through the top layer. His breath hitched. “Sylvie, can you-” he croaked, and Sylvia added more packing underneath his hand before he even had the chance to ask her.

The jostling of the car on the asphalt roads caused the girl he supported bounce in his arms slightly and, despite his determination to keep firm pressure on the angry gashes in her side and Sylvia’s attempts to keep a steady grip on her cracked ankle, unforeseen divots and curves made it all the more difficult.

A particularly sharp turn in the road caused a significant shift in the trio’s positions and the girl whimpered softly, a rattling breath escaping her lips. Clyde’s stomach twisted. “Shh,” he cooed to her, his brow knitted together. “It’ll be okay, help’s comin’.” He couldn’t tell if he was soothing himself or her.

His eyes raked over her broken body again. She shook ever so slightly, and he pressed his hand a bit harder into her side unconsciously.

Clyde looked back to her face, drawn by the small gasps and groans that escaped her lips, and his stomach knotted tightly. His hair fell in a curtain around her head, shielding them from the outside world. In that dark pocket, they were safe, they were together. It was just him and his girl. He couldn’t bear to lose her. He banished that thought from his head the minute it entered. “Baby shh,” he whispered to her unhearing ears. A drop of water splattered on her cheek and clung to her skin. Where did that come from?

The screech of tires announced their arrival in the parking lot of Boone Memorial, and Mellie hopped out in a flash, hollering for help. Carefully, so carefully, Clyde shifted his girl into his arms and flung open the car door to shift her out of the vehicle, trying his hardest to not collapse at her involuntary, harrowing groan. A whirlwind of white, the clatter of metal, and a flurry of medical terminology swirled around him. He stood in shock as his darlin’ was whisked from his arms and onto a gurney, Sylvia close at her side, rattling off her vitals and status, as well as they knew it.

The flurry of action was deafening silence to Clyde. He remained motionless as they wheeled her through the emergency room doors and into some far-off room to get poked and prodded with the medicines and needles and threads Clyde had tried to push from his mind after his own encounter with them.

She’s safe, he assured himself, trying to quell the adrenaline rush that overtook his body. She’s going to be alright. Clyde couldn’t quite tell if his musings were internal or not. He shook his head, trying to make some sense of his thoughts.

A light hand on his forearm snapped him back to where he stood. “Clyde?” Mel whispered as she laid a light hand on his arm, trying to catch his attention without startling him. His gaze fell to the floor and flicked to a small patch of concrete on the ground in front of Mellie’s feet. There was a small crimson bead of liquid sitting on the ground. She rubbed his bicep lightly. “Let’s go get you cleaned up,” she soothed once she noticed how her brother had begun to shake.

“No, I don’t want to leave-”

“Jimmy’s comin’ now with fresh clothes for ya Clyde. We’ll figure somethin’ out.” Clyde swallowed hard. He nodded once, and that was good enough for his younger sister. His lower lip began to tremble as Mellie cupped his elbow and led him into the hospital, towards the warmth and the hope that you would come out of this alright.

~~~

Chapter Summary: Still reeling from the fight with Clyde, Reader goes to collect the data and footage alone. There, she crosses paths with and is attacked by one of the cougars she has been studying. Luckily, Clyde finds her and is able to save her, whisking her away with the help of Mellie and Sylvia to get her wounds treated.

~~~

Taglist: @mind-p0llution @thedivinemissm @clydesducktape @finn-ray-nal-beads @ladygrey03 @desiraypark @1800-fight-me @hopeamarsu @kkysolo @clumsycopy @mylifeisactuallyamess @daydreamsofren @mariesackler (Comment or message me to be added or removed!)

#only fools #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #logan lucky #cw: blood #cw: injury #cw: hospitals #cw: animal attack #cw: violence

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butterflies-dragons · 4 years

Note

Hey! I want to ask your opinion on Jon ygritte relationship and it's contrast with jonsa. I've seen jongritte wrt to jonerys but I want to know your opinions on jongritte wrt to jonsa as a foil n parallel.

Hello Anon,

Let’s talk about Ygritte then...

Ygritte:

Ygritte was a mixture of the Stark Sisters.

According to Jon: “she can kiss a man (Sansa’s romantic nature) or slit his throat (Arya’s killer abilities)”

“And maybe her eyes [...] but they were a pretty blue-grey color”. Blue (Sansa) & Grey (Arya).

Ygritte has skinny legs, was short for her age, and never brushed her hair, similar to Arya. But Ygritte was a redhead, described like ‘kissed by fire’, similar to the Tully auburn of Sansa’s hair that is also described by Arya like ‘fire’: “Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair.”

According to Jon, Ygritte is fierce, stubborn, and wild, similar to Arya with her touch of the wolf blood. But Ygritte also can sing like Sansa.

Ygritte is a spearwife, a fierce killer, a warrior woman, which reminds us of Arya’s Needle, her training to be a faceless man, and the list of people she wants to kill. But Ygritte also likes songs and stories and cries with sad and beautiful songs, like Sansa.

Who else was a mixture of the Stark Sisters? Lyanna Stark, Jon’s mother. But this is another subject.

Jon was not instantly attracted to Ygritte, but with time he started to have feeling for her, feelings that are linked with Ygritte’s similarities with Sansa:

The wildlings seemed to think Ygritte a great beauty because of her hair; red hair was rare among the free folk, and those who had it were said to be kissed by fire, which was supposed to be lucky. Lucky it might be, and red it certainly was, but Ygritte's hair was such a tangle that Jon was tempted to ask her if she only brushed it at the changing of the seasons.

At a lord's court the girl would never have been considered anything but common, he knew. She had a round peasant face, a pug nose, and slightly crooked teeth, and her eyes were too far apart. Jon had noticed all that the first time he'd seen her, when his dirk had been at her throat. Lately, though, he was noticing some other things. When she grinned, the crooked teeth didn't seem to matter. And maybe her eyes were too far apart, but they were a pretty blue-grey color, and lively as any eyes he knew. Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon II

Ygritte’s singing and the shades of her red hair near the flames. Jon is such a romantic.

Ygritte’s hair “by the cookfire [...] with the flames waking echoes in her red hair”, reminds me of this passage about Sansa’s hair:

“She had auburn hair, […] the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.”

—A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

And guess what turns Jon off about Ygritte? That she is a cold blood killer:

"I see no free folk. I see a crow and a crow wife."

"I'm no crow wife!" Ygritte snatched her knife from its sheath. Three quick strides, and she yanked the old man's head back by the hair and opened his throat from ear to ear. Even in death, the man did not cry out. "You know nothing, Jon Snow!" she shouted at him, and flung the bloody blade at his feet.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

"Who is Ygritte?" Donal Noye asked pointedly.

"A woman of the free folk." How could he explain Ygritte to them? [. . .] she's young, only a girl, in truth, wild, but she . . ." She killed an old man for building a fire.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

Ygritte was much in his thoughts as well. He remembered the smell of her hair, the warmth of her body . . . and the look on her face as she slit the old man's throat.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

Very telling....

I usually call Ygritte, “Jon’s Joffrey”. Both Jon and Sansa accommodated Ygritte and Joffrey in their minds as a coping mechanism, because they both knew that their love interests liked killing too much, something that turn them off:

“Who is Ygritte?” Donal Noye asked pointedly.

“A woman of the free folk.” How could he explain Ygritte to them? She’s warm and smart and funny and she can kiss a man or slit his throat. “She’s with Styr, but she’s not … she’s young, only a girl, in truth, wild, but she …” She killed an old man for building a fire. His tongue felt thick and clumsy. The milk of the poppy was clouding his wits. “I broke my vows with her. I never meant to, but …” It was wrong. Wrong to love her, wrong to leave her … “I wasn’t strong enough. The Halfhand commanded me, ride with them, watch, I must not balk, I …” His head felt as if it were packed with wet wool.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

Look how Jon is having a discussion with himself in his mind: Jon 1: Ygritte was warm, smart, funny, young, only a girl.... Jon 2: But she was a cold blood killer, man! She shot several arrows at us, she tried to kill us! And remember when she blackmailed us to have sex with her? WTF dude?

This is exactly what Sansa was doing here:

“I had a dream that Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart,” she said. It had been more of a wish, actually, but it sounded better to call it a dream. Everyone knew that dreams were prophetic. White harts were supposed to be very rare and magical, and in her heart she knew her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father.

“A dream? Truly? Did Prince Joffrey just go up to it and touch it with his bare hand and do it no harm?”

“No,” Sansa said. “He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.” In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm, but she knew Joffrey liked hunting, especially the killing part. Only animals, though. Sansa was certain her prince had no part in murdering Jory and those other poor men; that had been his wicked uncle, the Kingslayer. She knew her father was still angry about that, but it wasn’t fair to blame Joff. That would be like blaming her for something that Arya had done.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

After a time living in Kings Landing and knowing her betrothed a bit better, Sansa knew that Joffrey was not true knight material; deep down she knew about his killing/harming tendencies, yet she tried to accommodate Joff as someone that, at least, would never harm/kill innocent people.

As I said before, Jon started having feelings for Ygritte, but she couldn’t wait to have him. She blackmailed him to have sex, and Jon being the horny teenager that he was, at the prospect to be killed by the wildling versus having sex with a girl that he started to like, he chose the sex, of course. Such a strong basis for romance...

Women & Jon Snow:

How many times have we all heard that Jon loves warrior women and dislikes or even hates ladies? This is not true tho...

These wrong assumptions are based in Jon’s interactions with the following women:

Ygritte, a spearwife, a warrior woman, his first and only lover.

Arya, his favorite and beloved sister, Jon himself gave her a sword, Needle. Needle was named because of Sansa tho... Ygritte reminded Jon of Arya.

Val, “the wildling princess”. Jon considers Val very physically attractive, he decided that she was a “warrior princess”. But sorry, let me tell you that GRRM himself has said that Val is not a warrior woman.

Lady Alys Karstark, because she reminds Jon of Arya and she flirted with him. She remembered them dancing in the past and invited him to dance again during her wedding. Dancing is something very ladylike tho, just saying...

Arya

Back in 2016, a person asked GRRM about the possibility of a romance between Jon and Arya, pointing out the similarities between Ygritte and Arya, this is what he said:

“My con friend asked about the Jon/Arya relationship again and brought her (impressive) Game book that had all of her references marked out with little flags. She brought up the Ygritte connections to Arya that Jon saw in her. George did not directly answer yes or no if there would be anything romantic between the two.”

“George did say, despite what readers see as clues to a romantic relationship between Jon/Arya in the books themselves, he did not confirm this so easily but inferred that what Jon saw in Ygritte was a comfort level of femininity. <<< She and I obviously discussed these comments after the meeting and this was the general feeling.”

“My con friend was referring to George explaining Jon’s perception: GRRM replied, “You know, I don’t think it’s a reference for that [for romance]. It’s a reference to a certain physical type, and a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It’s like someone who reminds you of, you know… Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn’t put him off because he is used to that.”

[Source 1] [Source 2] [Source 3]

So, as you can see, these links between Jon’s favorite sister and Jon’s first lover, according to the author himself, mean:

“Comfort level of femininity”,

“Jon is used to messy hair”

“Not reference for romance”.

Not reference for romance indeed...

Here you can read more about my opinion regarding the possibility of a romantic relationship between Jon and Arya: [x] [x] [x]

Val

Repeat after me: Val is not a warrior woman. Again: Val is not a warrior woman. One more time: Val is not a warrior woman. If you don’t believe me, then read this:

However, in my own defense, I should note that Dalla was not a “warrior woman” per se. She was from a warrior culture, yes; one that gave women the right, but not the obligation, to be fighters. Ygritte was a warrior woman, as was (most conspicuously) the fearsome Harma Dogshead. Dalla and Val were not.

[Source]

But you may say, ¿What about the “the warrior princess and the willowy creature that only brushes her hair” quote?

Well, as GRRM has stated many times, all his POVS are “Unreliable Narrators”. Being from a “warrior culture” doesn’t make you automatically a “warrior woman”. But here is Jon Snow “deciding” that Val was a “warrior princess”. Once again, the contrast, the dichotomy in one single person: ¿A warrior like Arya, a princess like Sansa? Not that Arya has ever fought in a war, but you get my point. And Sansa was created following the princess archetype.

I will show you one of my favorite Jon’s passages that will serve us to read “the warrior princess and the willowy creature that only brushes her hair” line with a better and more revealing light:

I call this passage the “Jon -It’s nothing special- Snow”. Or as we say in Spanish when we can’t get what we really want: “Al cabo que ni quería”, that can be translated as “I didn't even want it anyway”. Let’s see:

"Oh, I learn things everywhere I go." The little man gestured up at the Wall with a gnarled black walking stick. "As I was saying … why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?" He cocked his head and looked at Jon with his curious mismatched eyes. "You do want to know what's on the other side, don't you?"

"It's nothing special," Jon said. He wanted to ride with Benjen Stark on his rangings, deep into the mysteries of the haunted forest, wanted to fight Mance Rayder's wildlings and ward the realm against the Others, but it was better not to speak of the things you wanted. "The rangers say it's just woods and mountains and frozen lakes, with lots of snow and ice."

—A Game of Thrones - Jon III

I mean... COME ON! This is one of the most telling passages to know, to really know Jon’s true nature, and it’s very, very similar to the quote about “the warrior princess and the willowy creature that only brushes her hair”:

They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

“Some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.” Nah, it’s nothing special, I didn’t even want it anyway, not for me, no.

Do I have to say more???

Actually, yes, I have.

Jon Snow does really want a lady. Jon Snow does really want to be a knight and rescue a maiden. Jon Snow does really want a lady to love and be loved back by her. Here some evidence:

Jon Snow wished that his mother were a highborn lady: “Not my mother, Jon thought stubbornly. He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind.”

Jon Snow wanted to be a hero like the Prince Aemon Dragonknight. The same Prince Aemon that jousted in a tourney, won it, and crowned his sister and lady love “Queen of Love and Beauty”, something that is straight out from the courtly love book: “The Dragonknight once won a tourney as the Knight of Tears, so he could name his sister the queen of love and beauty in place of the king's mistress”.

Jon Snow tried to comfort Gilly with courtesy: "Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower." "That's pretty." He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name. He could not help the girl, but perhaps the courtesy would please her”.

Jon Snow put Ghost between Ygritte and him and remembers that knights put their swords between their ladies and themselves, something that is straight out from the courtly love book: “After that he had taken to using Ghost to keep her away. Old Nan used to tell stories about knights and their ladies who would sleep in a single bed with a blade between them for honor's sake, but he thought this must be the first time where a direwolf took the place of the sword”.

Jon Snow imagined romancing Ygritte as if she were a lady: “If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us”.

Jon Snow wished for a domestic life in Winterfell, with his wife and children: I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. [...] I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. [...] Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb. He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily”.

Jon is a romantic that called his mare “sweet lady”.

Jon Snow closer friends in the Night’s Watch are Samwell Tarly and satin, they are literally male!Sansas.

Jon remembers fondly Sansa’s more feminine and ladylike traits: her romantic nature, her courtesies, her singing.

It’s also worth to mention that, despite Val’s beauty and physical attractiveness, Jon Snow, once again, appreciates her being maternal and singing to Gilly’s son, but was turned off by Val saying she would kill Princess Shireen:

"I have heard you singing to him."

"I was singing to myself. Am I to blame if he listens?" A faint smile brushed her lips. "It makes him laugh. Oh, very well. He is a sweet little monster."

"Monster?"

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VIII

Once outside and well away from the queen's men, Val gave vent to her wroth. "You lied about her beard. That one has more hair on her chin than I have between my legs. And the daughter … her face …"

"Greyscale."

"The grey death is what we call it."

"It is not always mortal in children."

"North of the Wall it is. Hemlock is a sure cure, but a pillow or a blade will work as well. If I had given birth to that poor child, I would have given her the gift of mercy long ago."

This was a Val that Jon had never seen before. "Princess Shireen is the queen's only child."

"I pity both of them. The child is not clean."

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

Wait a minute! Val was “singing to herself” like Jon’s memory of Sansa “singing to herself” while brushing out Lady’s coat???

Where did Jon get this idea of “some willowy creature that only brushes her hair” from??? It could be from his half sister Sansa, a literal princess, now trapped in a tower, that always brushed her hair and even brushed out her direwolf’s fur???

“She had brushed out her long auburn hair until it shone” —Sansa

“Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone.” —Eddard

I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. —Catelyn

He thought [...] Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. —Jon

And I also suspect that when Jon said this about Val:

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

He was remembering another pretty girl, princess like, next to a direwolf, looking as though they belong together.

A young beautiful girl, that everyone considers a princess, next to a direwolf???

Val is a beautiful young woman, Sansa is a beautiful young maiden.

Val has long blonde hair the color of dark honey which she wears in a braid. Val actually take care of her hair, enough to braid it, like Sansa that always brushes it. And if you google “dark honey” hair color you will find a variety of reddish brown (auburn) and reddish blonde hair colors.

Val has high sharp cheekbones, like Sansa.

Val’s eyes are pale grey or blue. Again the grey/blue eyes pattern...

Val is slender with a full bosom, like Sansa.

So?

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him. [...] It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself.

Think about it!

Alys

You may have heard about how Alys Karstark reminds Jon of Arya. She was the girl of Melissandre’s vision, right? No? Melissandre was wrong? Really?Anyway, this is another subject, for another time. The thing is that Jon was really hoping that the “Grey Girl” was Arya. He was desperate to have Arya safe and away from the Boltons. And once again, look at Alys Karstark’s description:

Alys is a tall, like Sansa, but skinny, like Arya.

Alys has brown hair, like Arya, but wears it into a braid, so she cares about her hair, like Sansa.

Alys has a long face, but blue-grey eyes. Blue like Sansa, and Grey like Arya. This pattern again? George, I need some explanations. What are you doing?

And also all these connections with Sansa:

Alys is a lady, a maiden, and she asked Jon his protection: “You are my only hope, Lord Snow. In your father's name, I beg you. Protect me”. She sounds like a willowy creature in need to be rescue by some knight, right?

Alys remembered dancing with a sullen Jon Snow when she visited Winterfell in the past. Alys invited Jon Snow to dance again during her wedding.

Alys’ wedding happened in a very similar way to Sansa’s dream wedding: ”It was not supposed to be this way. She had dreamed of her wedding a thousand times, and always she had pictured how her betrothed would stand behind her tall and strong, sweep the cloak of his protection over her shoulders, and tenderly kiss her cheek as he leaned forward to fasten the clasp”. —A Storm of Swords - Sansa III & “The Magnar all but ripped the maiden’s cloak from Alys’s shoulders, but when he fastened her bride’s cloak about her he was almost tender. As he leaned down to kiss her cheek, their breath mingled”. —A Dance with Dragons - Jon X.

A northern maid and a wildling warrior, bound together by the Lord of Light. A northern maid like Sansa: “The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter”. A wildling warrior like Jon: “I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling.”

There is much more to say about Women & Jon Snow, but I will stop here. There are more topics to explore for this answer.

This is too long already, so I need to make a cut.

Parallels & Contrasts:

As I said this post is already too long, so I will summarize with the help of my friends. Let’s see:

Some great findings by my friend @shieldofrohan in this post: JON X SANSA BOOK HINTS- IN ORDER:

Sansa is the blue flower that bloomed from the North

Ygritte tells about the song of Bael the Bard and the Winterfell’s Rose in ACOK; Jon VI

In the story the blue roses of Winterfell just bloom and they represent a love between King Beyond the Wall and Winterfell’s maiden heir

Next chapter is Sansa (ACOK; Sansa IV) and she flowers for the first time, next chapter is Jon again. (Jon-Sansa-Jon)

Bael the Bard and Winterfell’s Blue Rose

He meets with Ygritte

So after the introduction of his future love interest comes a Sansa chapter.

She tells him the story of a song about the love between King Beyond the Wall and Winterfell’s maiden lady heir.

Jon-Ygritte meeting // Sandor-Sansa last scene

Jon meets with Ygritte in ACOK; Jon VI

Sansa sees Sandor for the last time in ACOK; Sansa VII

Jon has grey eyes // Sandor has grey eyes

Ygritte has red hair // Sansa has red hair

Jon // Sandor puts a knife to her throat

Ygritte tells him a song // Sansa sings for him

Jon-Ygritte last scene // Sandor-Sansa last scene

Sansa-Sandor last scene ACOK; Sansa VII // Jon-Ygritte last scene ASOS; Jon VII

Ygritte cups Jon’s cheek // Sansa cups Sandor’s cheek

Ygritte // Sandor says her/his catchphrase:

You know nothing, Jon Snow // Littlebird one last time and dies // leaves.

The men didn’t touch redhead girls but girls say they did

Jon didn’t touch Ygritte but Ygritte lies that he did and Sansa believes that Sandor kissed her in ACOK; Sansa VII. But he didn’t

Sansa remembers UNKISS after a Jon chapter.

Jon-Ygritte // Tyrion-Sansa

Jon beds Ygritte and it kind of means they are married in Wildlings’ sense. Because they believe in stealing + bedding = marriage philosphy.

Meanwhile Sansa really marries Tyrion.

Two hearts that beat as one. Mance Rayder’s mocking words rang bitter in his head. [ASOS; Jon III] The septon raised his crystal high, so the rainbow light fell down upon them. “Here in the sight of gods and men,” he said, “I do solemnly proclaim Tyrion of House Lannister and Sansa of House Stark to be man and wife, one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever, and cursed be the one who comes between them.” [ASOS; Sansa III]

Jon has sex with Ygritte because he needs to prove that he is loyal. But he feels guilty because he takes pleasure. So he stole her and bed her. They are basically married. He didn’t want to but he was forced to.

Sansa had to do it because she is surrounded by the enemy. And Tyrion believes he has to consummate the marriage because his father commanded him. He desires Sansa even though she is a child and he feels a slight shame because of it. But unlike Jon, Tyrion doesn’t bed Sansa.

Bed your sister

Ygritte asks some interesting questions… while someone was about to bed Jon’s sister. She punched him. “That’s vile. Would you bed your sister?” [ASOS; Jon III]

I didn’t steal you… I’m no thief

Ygritte says that Jon stole her like Bael the Bar and talks about the star called Thief. But Jon says he didn’t steal her.

In TWOW; Alayne I, Ser Roland also calls Sansa a thief for stealing his heart. But she says she is no thief.

Ygritte is a girl with Tully look with her red hair and blue-grey eyes whereas Ser Roland has Stark look with his brown hair and long face. Sansa even says he is horse faced, and Arya is called Horsaface too and she looks like Jon.

Ygritte // Sansa

Ygritte is a northern girl with Tully hair and she says she is a “half fish”

Sansa is a half Tully aka fish, redhead and northern… Ygritte punched his arm. “You know nothing, Jon Snow. I’m half a fish, I’ll have you know.” [ASOS; Jon V]

More from this post by my friend on reddit: Jon and Sansa's parallel journey/imagery/settings in Jon and Sansa CHAPTERS PLACED NEXT TO EACH OTHER

ACOK Chapters 51, 52 and 53 - Steal the girl Chapter 51 - Jon, Chapter 52 - Sansa and Chapter 53 - Jon

Jon meets Ygritte who bares her throat for him and Jon puts his Longsword at it, intending to kill her but frees her:

She pushed her hair aside to bare her neck, and knelt before him. “Strike hard and true, crow, or I’ll come back and haunt you.”

“Now,” he said, “before my wits return. Go.”

She went.

The Hound puts his longsword against Sansa's neck but also frees her:

He laid the edge of his longsword against her neck, just under her ear. Sansa could feel the sharpness of the steel.

Now fly away, little bird, I’m sick of you peeping at me.”

Wordless, she fled

Before this, Ygritte tells Jon the tale of Bael the bard and how he stole the "Fairest flower in Winterfell"

‘All I ask is a flower,’ Bael answered, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o’ Winterfell.’”

Next, we have Sansa recieve her first moonblood described as having "Flowered"

You’ve had your first flowering, no more.

Chapter ends with Cersei asking Sansa if she wants to be loved and have it followed by a Jon chapter.

Do you want to be loved, Sansa?”

“Everyone wants to be loved.”

“I see flowering hasn’t made you any brighter,” said Cersei. "Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”

Next chapter : Jon

ASOS Chapter 15, 16

These two chapters are a bit icky and deals with sexual maturity. Feels like a parallel journey.

The Jon chapter consists of Tormund talking about his sex life, Jon claiming he's too young for sex and Ygritte basically throwing herself at him.

The Sansa chapter consists of men staring at Sansa's body sexually, maids remarking about her matured bosom, Margaery playing kissing games with her cousins etc.

First love’s Resemblance:

And Sansa fell wildly in love with Ser Waymar, and Jon fell in love with a wildling girl kissed by fire:

Indeed, Sansa’s first crush was a brother of the Night’s Watch:

“Bronze Yohn knows me,” she reminded him. “He was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black.” She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. “And that was not the only time. Lord Royce saw … he saw Sansa Stark again at King’s Landing, during the Hand’s tourney.”

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

And Waymar Royce looked like a Stark. Waymar Royce was Jon’s lookalike. More about it here.

And Jon’s first love was Ygritte, a redhead, with blue-grey eyes, and to make the Tully look even more evident, Ygritte called herself half a fish:

“Ygritte punched his arm. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. I'm half a fish, I'll have you know.”

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

Sansa’s first crush having the Stark Look and Jon’s first lover having the Tully look, reminds me of Catelyn being first betrothed with Brandon Stark but marrying Eddard Stark instead. Brandon, died like Waymar. Ned said Jon’s is a younger version of himself. Ned never imagined marrying Catelyn, he had a young infatuation with Ashara Dayne, but he never acted on his feelings for her, and she died. Ned also killed Ashara’s brother Arthur.

Sansa fell wildly in love with Waymar, but she won’t marry him, he died. She will probably fall in love with Jon in a more mature and calmly way. Jon Snow, after a non-con beginning, ended loving Ygritte, not a lady, that offered him a “comfort level of femininity”, but he won’t marry her, she died. Jon will probably fell in love with Sansa, freely and willingly.

I think there is more to say and I could expand what was already said, but I think I covered the basics.

And to finish this post I will leave you with this picture. A friend helped me to colored the rose blue, the original was yellow. I call this picture: “Sansa with messy hair”. And I think this picture is the perfect way to end this long answer.

Good night.

#Sansa Stark #Jon Snow #Sansa x Jon #Jon x Sansa #jonsa #Ygritte #jon and ygritte #jon and arya #jon and val #jon and alys

163 notes · View notes

hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years

Note

Imagine a scenario, where the country representative develops romantic feelings towards their soldier, who 100% loves them back, but thinks about it as "I-its just a patriotic love, r-right??" And what's worse, it's a wartime, and the soldier is so loyal, that they're willing to die for their country with no regrets like a hero, without realizing how much it might hurt representative's heart. Even though the victory is extremely needed, (c/n) can't leave their soldier to sacrifice themselves, but they can't be together all the time either (cuz soldier is a mortal human, and country.. is a country). Note that they probably won't confess to each other until the war ends. (Or until some dramatic event, if you choose an angsty route)

So.. what do you think about it? I'd ask you to make axis&allies hcs on this, but I think it's a way too much xD You may choose any of countries you like to explore this~

This sat in drafts too long. I apologize for getting caught up in the Headcannons so much that I'd didn't do the exact thing you asked for... (I have a habit of doing this and I'm extremely sorry) but if the countries heard news that their soldier was injured they'd all 100% fight to get to them. I also changed the scenerios up a little For each country because it just fit better for the Headcannons. I.E I had a scenerio in my head, and it leaked all over the ask :3

Trigger warnings: Blood, mentions of violence, and amputations, minor mentions of alcohol. (If I missed anything let me know!)

Allies and Axis x Treasured!Soldier: Battle Scares.

Allies:

America:

The amount of panic set in was unbearable.

It was bad enough he had to painfully separate himself from England, but to hear news that he might lose his best soldier?

No, they were more than that, but he was so busy with the war he forgotten all but how he truly felt.

Even more so, he had to distance himself because a country and a human love was (at this time) unheard of.

He tried but seeing them laying on a dirty table, whiskey in hand to numb the pain, that was the final straw.

Running over and fighting past the nurses and doctors he stood at their side, caressing their face.

"Sir? Why are you here. I can still hear the gunfire. They're closing in on us..."

The soldier's illusions did nothing to stop Alfred from spilling his emotions to a mostly drunk, and badly injured human.

The worst pain came from the lack of response, and being pulled away from their table side.

Back at the main base of operations he was too distracted to be drinking over a victory.

To him, it was still worth the freedom, but not worth the loss.

Then it burned him at how many others felt this pain.

His head spun from the alcohol, but not being fully drunk, he was hyper aware of the whole place that had gone silent.

Looking around for the cause of the broken happy atmosphere he spotted his beloved soldier, crutches under each arm, and missing a leg.

Yet they still gave him the biggest smile.

"Was I not invited to the celebration?"

England:

"Too soon" he thought, no he begged to whatever cruel god would allow this to happen. How his soldier became cannon fodder was beyond him, but he's going to best the life out whatever general allowed them to go the first wave of attack.

Not only were they badly injured, but they were still somewhere in enemy territory. The other soldiers couldn't find his top combatant, but England is.

He was gone for hours, even if he found them dead, bleeding out, or worse they would be found.

Meanwhile the rest of his army grew sick with either guilt, or shame for not trying harder.

Back out on the field, underneath fallen trees and broken up rocks laid his gem.

His gem. He tried to avoid it. Tried to sweat it off as admiration, but it was to no avail.

Heart sinking, he screamed and hollered as he dug out the fallen soldier from the rubble and debris.

Soft groans made his heart flip as his treasured soldier shifted.

"shh, shh, shh, shhh- do not move love."

He tried to quiet them, but what they said next surprised him.

"Love, huh? I can't tell you how long I've wanted to hear you call me that..."

Blush across both faces, they made it back to base.

Since then his feelings towards them had grown, and he had them the new general of his army, that way they were able to stay as close as possible.

France:

This was the worst case scenario.

Everyone was celebrating in the mess hall, the final victory was won, but something was off.

When he realized his top soldier was MIA from the party his face paled. Panic setting in, he rushed around and questioned everyone.

How where they not accounted for? His heart ached and body was shaking viciously as he went to check their room.

Nothing. His soldier was nowhere to be found.

Tonight was the night he was planning on flooding a private room with his feelings towards them. But now...

Then it dawned on him to check the infirmary. He almost regretted it.

Sat up right, bandage on their side they sat. Alone.

He rushed over asking a thousand questions. Why, how, what.

He was surprised and utterly ticked off when they told him they had hidden their wounds, and had fixed themselves up.

He still had someone check them over, just in case. Despite their proper knowledge of these kind of wounds.

He wanted to say it. How heavy they made his to give feel, and how fast his heart would beat.

But he refused to cause any more strain to them. For now, they drank and ate in private. Plans of a new tomorrow giving them both reassuring hope.

China:

He froze, the enemies retreating.

All around him his men cheered but his heart lumped up in his throat as he darted over to a figure a few feet away.

The battle was exhausting, and a good handful of his calvary had fallen. Including his soldier, and close friend.

They had given a shrill shriek moments before the battle was won, and China couldn't see where they were through the fighting. Not until the enemy cleared way did he see them on their knees. A blade embedded in their back.

Once he rushed over the others followers through and it was a team effort to get them somewhere safe to examine them.

He was now under the assumption that his fighter was not going to make it to sun rise.

But he did not leave their side. He was not going to let them die alone, and though they faded out of consciousness, he took his time filling their ears with his confession.

Chokes and tears filling his eyes he laid his head and slept.

Then morning came. He stirred but refused to look up at the body that rested before him.

That is until he heard a faint snore.

His face flushed and he sprung up, almost missing the fact their hand had made it's way into his. A silent acceptance of his feelings.

Russia:

The blood spilled from the enemies as he easily cut open into everyone of them. His anger raging inside him.

Part of him recognized his blood lust, the rest of him not understanding why.

The only thing that gave away to his true feelings was the tears that tricked down as soon as he saw his soldier staining the snow with their own blood.

Moments and blinding rage passed quickly as he stayed worldless, carrying his favored human to the closest infirmary.

He sat by their side as the nurses and doctors worked at them. Refusing to move, and dare they fail him, punishment would be considered.

Dark violet eyes hummed with regret, hatred, and sadness.

If anyone had stared long enough they would see the broken breaths he had, the only sign of his inner emotions.

He did not want to lose something- someone so precious to him. To be left alone and so quickly after building trust between them was more than he could bare.

The gasps and coughing of his soldier stirred him, and he rose from his chair.

They coughed up blood, and cussed. Eventually they gave Russia the news that they had been unconscious, but not too badly hurt, but complete recovery would take time.

He nodded and thanked them for their work and left. The only sighs of his true affection was the rich delicious food and paper flowers that would show their way to the soldier's room.

Yet the war wasn't done yet, so Russia had plenty of time to figure out his own feelings, and hoped that his soldier would help him with that.

Axis:

Germany:

Hands dug into the fabric on his knees. He was side by side with his soldier, yet somehow some stray debris had found its way into their arm, almost severing it.

He was also injured, but not as badly. His knee was scrapped up but that pain was nothing as he was forced to watch his top soldier squirm and writhe in pain as their arm was... Taken.

He wasn't allowed past the curtains, his own wounds needing to be addressed.

The only comfort he could offer was his words of pride, and praises for their courage. He knew it wasn't enough to help them as the screaming stopped, and he felt a creeping fear grow stronger. Concern over their life taking over.

Moments went by, and he was finally allowed up, so he waltz right past the curtains and stood beside their linen bed.

Grabbing a washcloth and water, he softly cleaned up what was left of the blood, both on the bedding, and on the outskirts of their less brutal wounds.

He would take care of them when the others couldn't. He would be the reason they would recover, he had to be.

The day they fully came too, they requested to see him specifically.

It was Germany who was in shock of their confession.

"I needed to get it off my chest, guess that meant the arm had to go too..."

They laughed and he almost choked on his tears as they asked for a hug. He obliged.

From there on out Germany kept his own promise to make sure their life was worth living for. With or without mutual feelings.

Japan:

He's never touched anyone before. But this was a dire situation. His general, and most valued fighter, had been struck down by the cares, and was bleeding badly.

Japan had managed to fight off the enemies ambush, and was ripping sleeves and excess fabrics to stop the blood flow. The sounds of his close friend echoing through the trees shook his core.

He struggled carrying him to a medic, and his concern never waivered.

He almost walked away, unable to handle their screams as their wounds were treated.

He decided to tough through it anyway.

In that time he reflected over the situation, and he didn't realize the tears that had fallen. He wiped them away as best as he could. But the memory of their skin against his hand had set forth an unfamiliar urge.

It wasn't anything romantic, but the desire to protect them had increased, and it took him weeks after they started healing to come to his senses and admit his feelings.

The air was silent, and if felt stale. What was being asked felt almost forbidden.

Almost.

Italy:

White flags, after all, were just white flags. And some enemies did not take treaties lightly.

With Italy being under control of another country, his own army had suffered greatly. His heart weighing heavier with each loss, or vanished person.

But the one that hurt the most was a soldier he had praised time, and time again for risking their lives when he,.or the others couldn't.

A few scratches here and there were almost normal, but one day they had returned badly wounded.

Italy felt a surge of panic and fear as he ordered anyone to help treat their wounds.

His guilt for not staying closer grew with each passing second. He grew depressed as days went by. His soldier not arousing from their slumber.

Then one day they were gone. Confusion and hurt swelled within him.

He was close to just accepting the fact he just lost someone he had come to love, and almost openly.

He grew more fond of all the rejected passes and flirtatious remarks he gave his soldier. It was a little cat and mouse game for them both. But you can only play with fire for so long.

Then the door to their safe space swung open. His dear soldier at the door way, an enemy map in hand, blood on their shirt, and a smug grin in their face.

They had successfully infiltrated enemy lines, and came back with an advantage.

Italy wasted no time holding them, regardless of the others, and whispered his love to their ears. His solider promising to submit to his past affections and remarks as soon as they have more time to breathe and rest.

Yeah- y'all thought I wasn't going to get this sappy. Y'all thought wrong~ (just kidding I got super sucked up in this prompt I don't think I answered it correctly but ya know what. The sappiness stays!). Ignore literally any and all inaccuracies Because I know nothing about history or how armies work. These scenerios are purely created to fit the prompt and my style of writing so... There.

#hetalia #hetalia american #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia china #hetalia russia #hetalia germany #hetalia japan #hetalia italy #hetalia world stars #aph #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #tw blood #tw violence

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ajaymoditravels · 3 years

Text

Best North India Tour Packages – North India Holiday Packages

North India has beautiful tourist destinations that offer people a variety of options to explore. If you are planning to go on vacation or searching for North India tour packages, you need to make a list of these places first. In which you can find a lot of things in North India, from the beautiful hill stations of Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh to the most beautiful palaces, forts and deserts of Rajasthan. A place full of some of the most famous historical gems and a list of the best tourist destinations, North India gives you a myriad of options that can be included in the North India tour packages.

To make your search for the best places that can be included in North India tour packages, we have shortened the list of the best places you can find. If you are on a short journey, then you can go to places that are easier to reach and can be fully explored in a short period of time. If you have plenty of time and you want to explore most of North India, make sure the following destinations are included in your North India tour packages.

Popular Destinations of Northern India Tour Packages

Shimla Manali Tour Packages

Leh- Ladakh Tour Package

Uttarakhand Tour Package

Jammu & Kashmir Tour Package

Shimla Manali Tour Packages

Shimla and Manali are truly the most beloved and popular tourist destinations in India. Both these destinations have always entered the North India tour packages. And, there are many reasons they cannot be missed. Here you will find snow-capped mountains, lush green valleys and stunning natural beauty. Shimla and Manali take pride in their natural beauty, offering tourists some of the best and most breathtaking views they can appreciate for a lifetime. You can also explore the beautiful city of Chandigarh with your Shimla-Manali tour, and trust us this will be your best trip.

No of days required: 6 nights/ 7 Days

Itinerary :

Day 1 - Delhi to Shimla (tentative distance 350km and 10 to 12 hours travelling ) Day 2 - Shimla - Kufri - Shimla Day 3 - Shimla Local - Covers Mini Train - Sankat Mochan Hanuman Temple Day 4 - Shimla to Manali Day 5 - Manali Local - Vashisht Kund and Hidimba Temple Day 6 - Manali to Rohtang Snow Point Day 7 - Departure (Manali to Delhi 16 hours drive)

Leh- Ladakh Tour Package

Whether you are traveling alone or planning a trip with friends, Leh-Ladakh is a "mecca" for all travel lovers. Witness the beautiful monastery and adventurous pass in Leh-Ladakh. A place that gives you some scenic views among the many places included in the North India Tour Packages. This is truly a paradise you can't miss.

No of days required: 5 Nights / 6 Days

Itinerary :

Day 1 - Arrival at Leh Day 2 - Visit Khardungla Pass and Nubra Valley Day 3 - Nubra to Pangong Day 4 - Leh Local Sightseeing Day 5 - Leh Local Sightseeing Day 6 – Departure

Uttarakhand Tour Package

If you are short on time and want to get a comfortable vacation between the mountains, Uttarakhand is where you are. At any time you will be able to reach some of the most popular tourist destinations in India like Mussoorie, Nainital and Ishikesh. To many, these are just a few of the favorite destinations that are always on the North India tour packages. But, there is so much more to Uttarakhand than you can find.

No of days required: 7 Nights / 8 Days

Itinerary :

Day 1 - Arrive and Check Inn to the Hotel Day 2 - Proceed to a full day local sightseeing trip to Mussoorie. Day 3 - Check Out from Hotel and drive to Corbett Day 4 - Early Morning go for Jungle Safari Day 5 - Check Out from Hotel and Drive to Kausani Day 6 - Early Morning can go to Baijnath Temple, After

Day 7 - Proceed to a full day sightseeing to Nainital

Day 8 - Proceed to Delhi

Jammu & Kashmir Tour Package

Properly known as "Paradise on Earth", the state of Jammu and Kashmir casts a spell on each and every one who visits this beautiful paradise. Kashmir definitely ranks it among the best destinations in North India tour packages. Exploring the beauty presented by this state is everyone’s dream.

No of days required: 6 Nights / 7 Days

Itinerary :

Day 1 - Arrival to Srinagar Day 2 - Day Trip to Sonmarg Day 3 - Srinagar Local Sightseeing Day 4 - Gulmarg Day 5 - Srinagar to Pahalgam Day 6 - Pahalgam Local Sightseeing

Day 7 - Proceed to a full day sightseeing to Nainital

Day 8 - Departure from Srinagar

The list of places to be included in North India tour packages never ends. For a wonderful trip to North India, make sure you travel with the best travel agent- Ajay Modi Travels who can offer you a wide range of North India tour packages. All the packages offered by Ajay Modi Travels are designed in such a way that you will fall in love with travel as well as the destination.

#best tour packages #couple tour packages #himachal couple tour packages #north india tour package #shimla couple tour packages #tour packages #india tour packages #goa couple tour packages #diwali tour packages

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fanfic-corner · 3 years

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Christmas!

18/12/20 - It’s nearly time... so whether you celebrate Christmas or not, I hope you have a lovely holiday and enjoy reading about our boys being festive.

a covenant of salt by museaway on AO3. (5,175 words).

Tags: Christmas, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, First Time, Holidays, Fanart, Men of Letters Bunker.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: They didn’t put up a tree on Cas’s first Christmas in the bunker.

Notes: This was so wholesome and was written excellently - the ending gave me chills!

It Started with a Fanfic Competition by Tenoko1 on AO3. (124,487 words).

Tags: Humor, Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Accidental Plot, Personal Growth, Found Family, Fluff, PTSD, Therapy, Alternate Season 12, Charlie Lives, Crack, Thanksgiving, Christmas.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: What started off as a game becomes a journey of friendship, love, and personal growth; filled with all the ups-and-downs that will make and bind a family.

Notes: This was written beautifully (I adore Tenoko1′s fics!). It is so wholesome, absolutely not afraid to call characters out on their bullshit, and genuinely has more character development than we see in the entire 15 seasons of the show.

Cuffed to an Angel by mattzerella_sticks on AO3. (72,529 words).

Tags: Fake Relationship, Professor Dean, Writer Dean, Detective Castiel, Fluff, Angst, Mutual Pining, Bisexual Dean, Gay Castiel, Christmas, Sharing a Bed, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, New Year’s.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester has a lot going for him: he's beloved by his students, he's finished writing his first book, and he's living comfortably in New York City. The only problem is... he's single. That wouldn't bother him much if his family wouldn't be visiting for the holidays. With cuffing season over, Dean has to face his family alone... or will he? Castiel DiAngelo is a simple detective who hasn't really celebrated Christmas in over 9 years, holidays and family being a sore spot for him. But after taking Dean up on an offer, he finds that you can't really avoid the holidays. Will these two be able to pull off a seminal holiday trope? Or will certain developments get in the way...

Notes: This was painful to read in the best way - I was waiting for the inevitable moment when everything goes bad, and when it did I was actually screaming! U absolutely adored this fic.

Welcome All Winchesters by almaasi on AO3. (60,237 words).

Tags: Romance, Fluff and Smut, Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, Mistaken For A Couple, Friends to Lovers, Bi-Curious Dean, Artist Castiel, Chef Castiel, Agender Castiel, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Marriage Proposal, POV Alternating, Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic Fluff.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: When Dean’s engagement breaks off three days before Christmas, he’s left with nobody to accompany him on a road trip to his family’s mountain log cabin. His best friend Castiel happens to be available, and is willing to help him through a tough time. But when Dean's mother and brother arrive, expecting to meet the person Dean plans to marry, they understandably assume Castiel is Dean's fiancé. After a weekend of comfortable domesticity, sharing clothes, intimate conversations, and definitely-one-time-only therapy sex, it feels almost too easy for Dean and Cas to fake a loving, romantic relationship. The hard part is going back to being friends afterwards. They can’t keep their hands off each other, and they’ve discovered some fun things to do together which they’d never tell another soul about. And, oh boy, feelings. Now being ‘just friends’ is so impossible, it seems as if fate had another plan for them all along...

Notes: This was so cute, even if Dean was a complete idiot. Also, ferrets.

How to re-gift fruitcake and other tips for surviving the holidays by museaway on AO3. (4,663 words).

Tags: Christmas, Neighbours, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Human.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: The saying goes you should “love thy neighbor,” but Castiel Novak was the neighbor from Hell.

Notes: This was so cute and funny and sweet... my heart is gonna explode.

all those lovely things by museaway on AO3. (7,870 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe - Smith/Wesson, Christmas Party, Co-Workers, Trapped in Elevator, Cuddling & Snuggling, Ridiculous Premise, Christmas, Holidays.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Oh, no. No. No. He’s not dying in a freak elevator accident on Christmas Eve with Castiel Novak. No way.

Notes: This was so cheesy but in that really fun, Christmas rom com way.

Peace And Good Luck To All Men by KismetJeska on AO3. (31,367 words).

Tags: Christmas, Alternate Universe - Human, Humor, Dysfunctional Family, Unrequited Love.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Christmas in the Milton household was difficult enough without the added complication of guests- and if Luke and Gabriel placing bets on who can get with Sam first wasn’t bad enough, then Cas developing a ridiculous crush on his sister’s boyfriend definitely is.

Notes: This was absolutely hilarious and officially the second fic ever to convince me to ship Samifer (kind of). I love the idea of a dysfunctional family Christmas.

Snow Place Like Home (But My Home Is With You) by almaasi on AO3. (47,814 words).

Tags: Alternate Canon, Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Sam Ships It, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel’s First Christmas, Bed & Breakfast, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Smut, Marriage Proposal, POV Alternating.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: It’s Christmas Eve, and Dean, Sam and Castiel are snowed into a small town with a big festive spirit. They splurge on a fancy room in a B&B – hey, they deserve a treat. There’s a tiny plastic tree and a working TV, so they could perhaps overlook the lack of hot water and Dean having to bunk with Sam. Sleeping arrangements soon reach a happier equilibrium: Dean’s just cuddling Cas to keep him warm, he swears – the tingly feeling means nothing! Christmas Day arrives, and Cas still doesn’t have a gift for Dean. Dean doesn’t know what to give Cas, either. Sam has a few ideas, but will the other two truly understand what he means?

Notes: This was the Christmas fluff we all deserve after this year.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year by fairychangeling on AO3. (8,152 words).

Tags: Christmas, Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobia.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Castiel doesn't have a date to the office Christmas party until his best friend Dean volunteers to accompany him. Everyone thinks they’re a couple, but they’re not. At least, not at first.

Notes: This is amazing... as they say, it isn’t Christmas without a homophobe being punched! (or fired).

I Won’t Even Wish for Snow by Annie D on AO3 (6,521 words).

Tags: College/University AU, Christmas, Mistletoe, Mild Angst, First Kiss, Castiel POV, Fluff, Friends to Lovers.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: It’s the third year that Castiel’s spending Christmas with his best friend’s family, and he expects it to be much like the previous two. Then mistletoe happens.

Notes: This was so cute and hit me right in the feels!

Santa Doesn’t Wear Eyeliner by crossroadswrite on AO3. (2,091 words).

Tags: Jock!Dean, Punk!Cas, High School AU, Christmas, Secret Santa, Artist!Cas, Christmas Sweaters, Fluff.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: In which Dean is a jock, Cas is a punk and they're each other's Secret Santa.

Notes: This was so adorable - especially Dean’s nervousness - and such a great idea.

Failure (to Cuddle) is Not an Option by Annie D on AO3. (3,766 words).

Tags: Christmas, Cuddling and Snuggling, Schmoop, Angst, Humor, First Kiss, Friendship, Fluff, Plot What Plot, Dean POV.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: All Castiel wants for Christmas is to cuddle, is that really too much to ask?

Notes: This was so cute and I can totally imagine this actually happening.

So, enjoy! I wish you a very merry Christmas and hope that you stay safe and have a nice time. And don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for some New Year’s fics.

#christmas #destiel #fic recs #spn family #spn fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural

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wangxiangiftexchange · 3 years

Text

Winter Solstice Gift for ilyweiwuxian

For @ilyweiwuxian <3

Read On AO3

*****

how sweet it is

Lan Wangji knows what it is that others say about him.

He’s heard the awed whispers, swirling around him like gusts of wind as he strides past.

They say that he is truly a child of the snowy mountains near Gusu.

They say that he is as cold and untouchable as a wintry pond, the waters beneath the surface as still and icy as what lies above.

They say that his spirit is sheathed in ice that is as thick and impenetrable as the walls of the Unclean Realm.

Lan Wangji wishes it were true, but he knows that it’s not.

Within him rages an inferno, wild and untamed. It’s one he struggles every day to control.

Injustice sparks outrage within him, of course, and it always has, ever since he was a lonely child who could not comprehend why he was kept away from the warm embrace of the mother he loved so dearly.

But it’s the way he feels when Wei Wuxian is near, as though his veins burn ceaselessly with molten rivers of lava, that he finds the most troublesome, the most terrifying.

Lan Wangji can subdue rowdy disciples through his mere presence, and his icy glare has sent a shiver up the spine of many an evildoer.

Although Lan Wangji’s veneer of coldness is reason enough to demonstrate the respect that is due to a man of his station and bearing, for the soldiers of the Wen Clan who are dragging him to the Nightless City, it seems to be more of a challenge.

As he walks with all the stately pride he can muster, given the circumstances, they relentlessly try to see which of them can taunt and torment the great Second Young Master Lan into breaking.

Lan Wangji stubbornly does not allow them to see how deeply their taunts about the destruction of his clan, his home, his family, wound him.

He does not let them know that it is taking every ounce of his strength and self-control to stop himself from teaching them to show him the proper respect with the tip of his snowy white sword.

But he knows he cannot be so reckless. The consequences to those he loves would be far too dire.

It feels as though it’s only been moments since he saw flames rising above the only home he’s ever known, leaving behind nothing but ashes.

He cannot help but think, over and over again, that if he had not found the Yin Metal—if he had not defied the Wen Clan by seeking out the other pieces—perhaps, perhaps his home, his family, would not be lying in ruins.

He feels less a man and more a raw, bleeding wound. Every step he takes away from his home and family only cuts the wound deeper.

His mind is wracked with fear, doubt, and guilt as he trudges hopelessly toward the Nightless City, every step weighed down by a heart full of dread.

When Wen Xu had threatened to murder GusuLan’s disciples and Lan Wangji had opted to surrender and hand over the Yin Metal shard he’d guarded so carefully, had he done what was right? Or had he instead made possible a great evil for the sake of avoiding a smaller evil?

He’d thought, at the time, that it was right, but doubt has begun to creep in since then.

Once, and it feels so long ago now, he had been so sure of everything, of what was right and what was wrong, but his certainty has begun to fracture.

Lan Wangji feels more lost, more adrift, than ever.

His uncle is ill, perhaps dead, his brother fleeing from the Wen Clan’s forces, and may, for all Lan Wangji knows, be dead by now too, his home is in ashes, the Lan sect’s disciples dead or dying, and he cannot do anything about it all.

No—now he is trapped helplessly in the hands of the men who did it all, suffering stoically through the humiliations and indignities they heap upon him as they drag him to the Nightless City despite his broken leg.

He is terrified for his loved ones, and more alone than he has ever been in his life—and he is someone who knows loneliness. It has been his constant companion all his life.

But he will not give the Wen Clan the satisfaction of seeing him break.

He will exercise every scrap of the iron will that his uncle has hammered into him, and he will not break.

He will be the ice, cold and unbreakable, that they all believe he is.

And he will not break.

When he strides into the Wen Clan’s educational center and sees familiar faces—Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang, Jin Zixuan, and, of course, Wei Wuxian—for the first time since the burning of Cloud Recesses, it is a relief.

He doesn’t miss the way Wei Wuxian tries to sidle over and surreptitiously check on him, even after his younger brother hissed at him to stop.

Lan Wangji feels gratitude swell warmly within his breast, but he doesn’t show it.

All of his strength, all of his energy, is devoted to maintaining strict control over himself.

Despite Wen Chao’s arrogance and viciousness, he cannot speak out, cannot defend others, even though it goes against his very nature.

No, instead he must play along with this cruel charade, because it is all that keeps his loved ones safe.

If he rebels openly against the Wen Clan, it is his family, his clan, that will pay the price. And they have paid more than they could bear to in blood and tears already.

Lan Wangji cannot be the cause of more suffering, no matter what it costs him.

And so he will hand over his beloved Bichen, even though it makes him feel as though he has lost a part of himself.

And he will steel himself to ignore the pointed jabs and insults of that loathsome Wen Chao.

And through it all, he will remember the faces of those he is keeping safe through these sacrifices of his honor, dignity, and pride.

And he will be ice and snow, cold, serene, and unbreakable.

When Lan Wangji is finally escorted to his rooms by the Wen Clan’s guards, he is surprised to discover that his quarters, while not his Jingshi, are comfortable enough.

He had expected to be marched to the dungeons of the Nightless City, but instead, he has been granted a moderately comfortable set of rooms.

He does not, of course, miss the fact that his guards do not truly leave—they station themselves just beyond the doors, allowing him some measure of privacy, but standing watch just the same.

Lan Wangji is under no illusions. This is a prison, no matter how comfortable, and he is its prisoner.

But this is the first time since he left Cloud Recesses that he has been allowed any privacy by the Wen Clan’s forces, and he relishes the solitude.

Finally, there is no one for whom he must playact.

But then comes the abrupt realization that there is also nothing to do save to linger on the devastating events of the last few days.

Lan Wangji knows he cannot do that. Surely the thought of all that he has lost will break him, and he cannot break.

And so he does what he always does whenever his soul is in turmoil: he pulls out his guqin and begins to play.

From his fingers spills a melody that has been haunting him, filling the silent spaces of his life, lingering always at the edges of his consciousness.

He has never heard it before—of that he is certain—and yet it is so familiar that it feels as though he has always known it, as though it is a part of him.

It is wistful. Sweeping. Romantic.

And, for some reason, it always makes him think of Wei Wuxian.

He doesn’t know where it came from. Doesn’t know what to call it.

But playing it fills him with serenity and joy, and he is in short supply of both these days.

His eyes drift shut as he loses himself in his music and his thoughts drift inexorably toward Wei Wuxian.

He thinks of the dark, lovely mischief of Wei Wuxian’s eyes, of a bright red ribbon fluttering above windswept, raven-black hair, of swift clever fingers working deft magic.

He thinks of the soft, delicate curve of Wei Wuxian’s neck and dreams of pressing his mouth against it, longs to hear Wei Wuxian gasp and moan with pleasure.

He dreams of taking Wei Wuxian into his arms and kissing a sweet red smile that is brighter than any sun. Surely it would scald his skin, but Lan Wangji cannot bring himself to care.

As his long, delicate fingers dance across the strings of his guqin, he dreams and dreams of how sweet it would be to kiss Wei Wuxian. The thought haunts his nights and fills his days with endless longing.

So when Lan Wangji feels soft fingers curl beneath his chin, tilting his face upward, and sees Wei Wuxian leaning over him, he is not sure whether he is sleeping or waking, does not know whether the amorous Wei Wuxian who fills his thoughts has somehow walked from his fevered dreams into reality.

Lan Wangji’s fingers still, the silence settling heavily around him, as he waits breathlessly for a kiss that never comes.

“Lan Zhan,” the vision of loveliness that is Wei Wuxian says earnestly, “I came to check on you. Are you all right?”

That’s when Lan Wangji realizes, with a surge of disappointment, that this is reality. He gently removes his face from the reach of Wei Wuxian’s fingers and stares down silently at his guqin.

Everything that he has been trying so desperately not to think about is crowding into his consciousness, crying out to be heard.

Instead of pleasant daydreams about Wei Wuxian, he thinks of his uncle, blood painting his mouth bright red, of his brother, lost in the wilderness and pursued by the ravening hounds of the Wen Clan, of flames rising above the cold mountains of his home, of ash drifting from the sky like flakes of snow.

His worry must be palpable, because Wei Wuxian’s hand settles warmly on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, and Lan Wangji does not protest.

That seems to worry Wei Wuxian more than anything else Lan Wangji has done since his arrival at the Nightless City. “Lan Zhan,” he repeats insistently. “What happened to you? What happened at Cloud Recesses? Is your family okay? Where’s the Yin Metal shard?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head once, a movement so minuscule someone less observant might have missed it.

Wei Wuxian’s keen eyes do not.

“Lan Zhan, you lost the Yin Metal? Does Wen Ruohan have it already? How did that happen?”

Horror and disappointment fill his voice. Lan Wangji cannot bear the thought that Wei Wuxian would be ashamed of him for surrendering the Yin Metal to Wen Xu so easily.

Wei Wuxian is so clever, so quick-witted. Surely he would have thought of a way to defy Wen Xu, protect his family, and keep the Yin Metal safe.

Lan Wangji did the best he was capable of, but for the first time in his life, it was not enough.

He discovers that he is disappointed with himself and ashamed of his failure.

He surges to his feet and begins to move away, desperate to distance himself from the intoxicating beauty of Wei Wuxian, desperate to hide his shame.

Wei Wuxian catches his wrist between fingers that are surprisingly warm.

“Let go,” Lan Wangji demands, half-turned away from Wei Wuxian.

He still cannot bear to look at Wei Wuxian.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian begs once more. “Tell me what happened after you left Qinghe.”

His grip tightens around Lan Wangji’s wrist as Lan Wangji halfheartedly tries to pull it away.

“I know something happened,” Wei Wuxian insists. “Lan Zhan, after everything I’ve done to help, I think I deserve to know.” There is no answer. He sighs, and then his voice softens. “Lan Zhan, you can talk to me.”

But Lan Wangji remains stubbornly silent. He desperately does not wish to speak about this. Not to anyone, but most of all not to Wei Wuxian.

He is not ready to speak of the losses he has suffered, the violence and indignities he has endured.

And he fears that Wei Wuxian’s high opinion of him will diminish once Wei Wuxian learns of how quickly he surrendered to the overwhelming force of the Wen Clan’s army.

“Leave,” Lan Wangji counters, voice as sharp, cold, and hard as the steel of his icy white sword. “I do not want you here.”

Wei Wuxian’s hand jerks away from Lan Wangji’s wrist. It is as if Lan Wangji had indeed thrust a sword into his body, although this is instead a wound of the heart.

Lan Wangji steps away from Wei Wuxian, his body stiff and tense, and clenches both of his hands tightly behind his back where Wei Wuxian cannot see this sign of agony and despair.

Wei Wuxian’s wounded eyes are fixed to his face as he slowly steps away. “Lan Zhan, why are you being like this?” Lan Wangji can hear the hurt in his voice, see it in the depths of his eyes. “I thought we were friends.”

They are friends, and much besides.

Lan Wangji’s fists clench tighter. His nails will draw blood if they dig into his palms much longer, but still he says nothing.

“All right,” Wei Wuxian sighs after excruciatingly long moments pass and still Lan Wangji remains stubbornly silent. “I’ll go, if that’s really what you want.”

As he turns to leave, defeated, Lan Wangji belatedly realizes that he does not want him to go. He cannot bear the silence, the ugliness, the loneliness of this dim prison.

This time, it is he who reaches out and catches Wei Wuxian’s slender wrist, and it is he who will not let go.

Wei Wuxian halts, glances, perplexed, to where Lan Wangji’s hand is wrapped around his wrist, and then flicks his eyes disapprovingly back to Lan Wangji’s face.

“So you don’t want me to stay, but you don’t want me to go.”

Lan Wangji lowers his eyes and says nothing. There is nothing to say. It is the truth.

Wei Wuxian sighs, frustrated. “So what do you want, Lan Zhan?”

At his words, a fire within Lan Wangji blazes to life, but this time, he is heartsick, and he is tired...so very, very tired. He does not know if he has the strength to contain the flames that burn within him any longer.

He tries his hardest, but it is to no avail.

He feels something within him break, and before he fully realizes what he is doing, he finds that his hand is tugging Wei Wuxian closer.

He does not know who is more shocked, he or Wei Wuxian, when his lips press themselves against Wei Wuxian’s as though they have a mind of their own.

It is not at all the kiss he has spent so many hours dreaming of. It is perfunctory and unsatisfactory at best.

It does not help that Wei Wuxian remains perplexingly still throughout the kiss he presses so swiftly against Wei Wuxian’s mouth.

Wei Wuxian does not push Lan Wangji away, but neither does he pull him closer.

Lan Wangji does not know what that means.

When it is over, Lan Wangji retreats, eyes lowered, the sweet taste of Wei Wuxian’s lips fresh on his own, and Wei Wuxian remains unnervingly silent.

Lan Wangji did not know he was capable of such prolonged silence.

Normally, he would be pleased by this discovery, but this is not how he would have wished to discover it.

“Say something,” Lan Wangji says gruffly when he can bear the silence no longer.

Wei Wuxian is a man of so many words. He is unlike Lan Wangji in that respect. Surely he will find his way to the words that Lan Wangji cannot.

He hears Wei Wuxian take a deep breath as though to steady himself. “Lan Zhan?” he asks tentatively, sounding more bewildered than anything. “Why... why did you... why?”

“Why do you think?” Lan Wangji replies, somehow managing to sound cool and collected despite the turmoil and impatience within his breast.

Wei Wuxian is not usually so slow to grasp a situation. His mind is quick and clever.

“You... Lan Zhan... you want me?” is the answer Wei Wuxian settles on. He sounds shocked by the realization.

Lan Wangji wants a great many things from Wei Wuxian, but he does not tell Wei Wuxian that.

He cannot, however, deny that he wants him.

He nods his head. Once, ever so slightly.

Wei Wuxian begins to laugh, in great echoing guffaws, bent over from the force of his laughter, and Lan Wangji’s eyes flash in anger.

“No!” Wei Wuxian says quickly, reassuringly. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because... Lan Zhan, you’re really good at hiding your feelings. I never would have guessed that you felt that way about me. I thought you… I didn’t think you even liked me, much less liking me like that.”

Lan Wangji diplomatically chooses not to respond. It would be too easy to descend into a lengthy list of Wei Wuxian’s faults. He has come to accept and even like a few of them, but he cannot deny that they are there.

Instead, he hesitantly asks the question that has been occupying his thoughts more often than he would care to admit. “Do you… want me?”

Wei Wuxian tilts his head and taps a finger against his chin as he playfully pretends to think it over.

Lan Wangji's eyes flash. "Wei Ying!"

Lan Wangji's self-control is, admittedly, less strict than it normally is, but that is no reason for Wei Wuxian, much to Lan Wangji's growing fury, to collapse in laughter.

Lan Wangji feels as though they are back in the early days of their relationship, when Wei Wuxian teased him mercilessly and Lan Wangji was torn between wanting to kiss him senseless and longing to give him a lesson in swordplay he'd never forget.

"Shut up!" Lan Wangji snaps, in what is, he hopes, a forgivable lapse into immaturity.

It's not the most eloquent statement he's ever made, he admits that. He's not proud of it.

But when the laughter in Wei Wuxian's eyes fades away, replaced with something akin to curiosity, and he says, "Make me," in a voice that somehow sounds more like a promise than a challenge, Lan Wangji cannot say that he is sorry he said it.

He leans forward and cautiously brushes his lips against Wei Wuxian’s.

Wei Wuxian does not back away, does not laugh, does not mock him, as Lan Wangji had been half afraid he would.

He is half afraid that this is another one of Wei Wuxian’s games and that it will end with Wei Wuxian laughing at him for thinking Wei Wuxian could ever want him.

But if anything, Wei Wuxian seems disappointed, because he rolls his eyes, sighs, and says, “Lan Zhan, if that’s all you’ve got, then...”

He does not finish his—frankly ridiculous—statement. He cannot, because Lan Wangji interrupts by pulling him close, wrapping his arms around him, and pressing his lips against Wei Wuxian’s.

If their first kiss was fleeting, disappointing, and over nearly before it began, this kiss is its polar opposite.

Lan Wangji takes his time. He does not know if Wei Wuxian will ever allow him to kiss him again, and he intends to remember this kiss always--the sweetness of Wei Wuxian's mouth, the softness of his lips, his quiet, surprised gasps when Lan Wangji does something particularly clever with his tongue, the way he slips an arm around Lan Wangji's neck and presses himself closer with a fierceness that Lan Wangji does his best to match.

Lan Wangji feels as though everything within him has been set ablaze by the touch of Wei Wuxian's lips, his hands, his body.

No matter what his fate has in store for him and Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji knows this: he will warm himself with his memories of this kiss during all of the cold, lonely, miserable nights that are sure to follow.

The walls that surround his heart may be as high and as thick as the walls of the Unclean Realm, but behind them, this single memory will burn always, shedding its warmth, its light upon every moment of Lan Wangji's life, even when everything else has been reduced to ashes and embers.

Lan Wangji desperately does not want the kiss to end, and so h e kisses and kisses Wei Wuxian mercilessly, until Wei Wuxian melts in his arms and Lan Wangji suspects that Wei Wuxian has remained on his feet only because he is clinging so tightly to Lan Wangji, an arm thrown around his neck, the other clutching at his robes.

When Lan Wangji pulls away at long last, Wei Wuxian’s eyes remain closed, his lips softly parted, as though he is waiting breathlessly to be kissed once more.

Lan Wangji drinks in the lovely sight, until Wei Wuxian breathes deep, opens his eyes, smiles softly, and says, “Lan Zhan, where did you learn to kiss like that?”

Lan Wangji does not know how to answer. Wei Wuxian is the only person he has ever kissed. He was simply kissing Wei Wuxian the way he deserves to be kissed, the way he should always be kissed.

He supposes, then, that he learned how to kiss that way from Wei Wuxian.

He does not know how to say all of this to Wei Wuxian.

He settles for, “It is the way I have always wanted to kiss you.”

Wei Wuxian’s breath catches. “Lan Zhan,” he chides, “you can’t just say things like that without warning me.”

And then he kisses Lan Wangji, and this time he doesn't stop, not for a long, long time, and through it all Lan Wangji cannot help but marvel at the fact that everything in his life is somehow both the worst it has ever been and so much better.

#ilyweiwuxian #wangxiansolstice20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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lycorogue · 4 years

Text

ML Secret Santa Story: The Great Debate

Holy smokes, it’s 2am! Uh, I wanted to have this done by Christmas Eve, but I guess an official Merry Christmas to my @mlsecretsanta giftee @mouserzwuzhere is now in order. So... Merry Christmas!

Sorry for the delay, it actually kept me most of this month to lock down what I wanted to write. In the end, I ended up going with something inspired by a Tumblr post. Of course, I can’t find the post now to link it, but it talked about the logistical fallacy of most Christmas movies where Santa is canonically real, but adults still don’t believe in him.

I went with mouserz preferences of fluff, friendship/family bonding, and LadyNoir. I hope this ends up being a pleasant surprise for you under your digital Christmas tree this morning. :D

UPDATE (12/25/19): You can now find the story on AO3, on FFN, and on DA as well as below.

The Great Debate

Summary: When Ladybug agreed to meet up later with Chat Noir, she never imagined they would end up discussing the validity of Santa being real. It’s funny the things you do for your loved ones.

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 4032

Status: Completed one-shot

Disclaimer: I’m ignoring the two-part season 3 finale with regards to Master Fu; pretend this takes place before that....

Ladybug breathed in the chilled, crisp night air. Her breath escaped in a thin fog. Her supersuit kept her warm, but her cheeks still flushed with the bite of wind as she swung through the city. Thankfully, the snow recently ceased, and the air was calm. Once she was at her destination she would be warmer.

Looking down the long roofs of the office buildings, she spotted a figure already perched six buildings down the street. He was there. He was waiting for her. She shifted the weight of the package nestled in the crook of her left arm, and sprinted towards her meet-up.

Chat Noir lazily kicked his legs as he leaned back on the tower roof's ledge, staring up at the sky; looking for stars he couldn't see. He hummed “Silent Night” to himself, and was on the third verse when Ladybug landed behind him.

“You're late, Bugaboo.”

“Don't-” It was on reflex, but there was no akuma around now. She simply sighed, and shook her head. “Sorry. I wanted to get something for you first.” She held out her package: a box of Tom & Sabine Bakery macarons. It was risky to bring them to Chat Noir, but it was also a bit of an impromptu meet-up.

Earlier that day, for the second Christmas Eve in a row, Hawk Moth decided to not take a vacation, and akumatized a poor distraught person. As they were fighting, Chat Noir seemed more distracted than usual, exchanging his usual ill-timed flirting for requests that they hang out again later. The more the battle wore on, the more Ladybug picked up that perhaps this get-together was something Chat Noir truly needed.

Then they defeated the villain. Ladybug purified the akuma, and used her ultimate power to restore Paris. The duo fist-bumped in front of the rush of reporters capturing the latest attack on their beloved city. Ladybug's earrings chimed that she only had two minutes remaining, and soon after Chat Noir's ring beeped for the second time. She couldn't say anything to him in front of the reporters; couldn't let Hawk Moth potentially know where they would be. Instead, she gave him a silent plead to forgive her abruptness, and swung away. Once out of sight, she used the last few precious seconds of her transformation to text Chat Noir where to meet up. She prayed that he would get the message before de-transforming.

It seemed he did.

She didn't have much time to plan a Christmas gift for Chat Noir. She didn't imagine an opportunity to gift him anything. It would be far too inappropriate while they were actively attempting to protect Paris, and she didn't want Chat Noir to get the wrong idea if she asked him for a meet-up for a gift exchange. She didn't have the time to make anything, and she barely had the time to purchase anything; most stores were already closed for the holiday. She lucked out that her parents had anything left in their bakery.

“Huh. Great minds, it seems, M'lady.” Chat Noir smirked as he grabbed a matching pastry box he had hidden beside his right hip. His contained a pair of over-stuffed cream puffs. He brushed the snow off the ledge beside him and patted the now-bare roof.

Ladybug studied Chat Noir. She sprinted through the list of patrons she saw in her parents' bakery that day, trying to remember any young men with blonde hair. None came to mind. Perhaps he had bought the cream puffs while she was in her room. Maybe that was why he was so persistent with wanting a meet-up.

“Great minds indeed.” Ladybug hummed inquisitively, but still accepted the cleared-off seat. Holding out her box to Chat Noir, she traded peppermint macarons for her puff.

“Mmm.” Chat Noir popped the macaron in his mouth in one bite. “I guess it makes sense that we'd both pick pastries from the Tom & Sabine. It is the best bakery in all of Paris, after all.”

Ladybug lightly blushed, and hoped her cheeks were already red enough from the cold for Chat Noir to not notice. “I'm sure they'd appreciate hearing that, especially from a superhero.”

“You should tell them too, then.”

She had never thought of that. “Perhaps I'll take the time to do so.” She bit into her cream puff, and quickly licked up the filling oozing out of the opposite side.

Chat Noir popped another macaron in his mouth. “Thank you for meeting up with me tonight.”

Ladybug stilled, looking deeply at Chat Noir. “You sounded like you needed it. Is everything alright?”

“It is now.” He gave her a sad little smile, and then scraped some cream out of the center of his puff.

“It's Christmas Eve, Kitty. Wouldn't you rather spend it with loved ones?”

“I thought I was.”

“Come on, be serious, Chat Noir.”

He put down his treats, and instead scooped up Ladybug's right hand, keeping her gaze. “I am serious. Please tell me that you know by now that I'm always serious with every love confession.”

“Chat Noir-”

He dropped her hand and scooted further away from her. “I know, I know. You're in love with someone else. I understand that, but it doesn't lessen my feelings for you, and how dear you are to me.”

“Kitty.”

Clearing his throat, he tossed another macaron in the air, and caught it in his mouth. “Sorry I'm keeping you from your loved ones, though.”

Ladybug rested a hand on his shoulder. “You're not. You're dear to me too, remember?”

They finished their treats with small, simple, stupid conversation. They talked about nothing in particular, for fear of giving something away that would reveal themselves, and yet they said a lot with the way they each talked about being a superhero, or how they felt about the past year, or even about the weather.

“How could you not love the snow?” Ladybug gathered the empty pastry boxes, and tucked them beside her.

“It's lonely.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Most people stay inside; isolated in their homes. Paris isn't as bustling as normal. It's quiet.”

“See, that's one of the things I like about the snow.” Ladybug scooped some off the roof, and started packing it into a ball. “It absorbs sound, you know. That's why Paris seems so quiet and serene when it snows. The lights then reflect off the crisp white, and the city just seems clean and new. It seems safe.”

“It is safe, with you as its savior.”

“Yeah, well you're not too bad yourself there, Kitty.” They shared a smile. “Besides, snow isn't lonely. It's inviting. Families huddle together to drink cocoa as they watch the snow. Friends play together making snow angels or snowmen, or race on sleds, or build forts together, or have snowball fights.”

Chat Noir's face fell, so Ladybug threw her freshly formed snowball at his shoulder.

“Hey!” He quickly packed his own snowball, but Ladybug was faster and hit him with another one. “Okay! Okay, I submit!” He dropped his snowball, and held his hands over his head.

“Haven't you ever just played in the snow? How could you not feel the magic of it while you dance under a soft snow fall, or catch flakes on your tongue, or simply lay in the cold silence, just feeling at peace with the world?”

“I'll have to keep all of those in mind the next time it snows.”

“Good.”

Another soft, shared look as they each offered the other a gentle smile.

Church bells softly rang in the distance; breaking the spell as Chat Noir turned to the sound.

“It's getting late. Should we head home? Don't want to chance Santa passing us up since we aren't asleep.”

“Wait, Santa?”

“Yeah. You think he's in the area already? I mean, I really couldn't ask for a better gift than to spend time with you, M'lady, but I wouldn't want to push my luck with the Big Guy in Red.”

“Chat Noir, do you still believe in Santa Claus?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, and playfully smirked.

“I mean, are you telling me you don't?” His face scrunched up as he stared incredulously at her. “We literally saw him! Twice!”

“First of all, those were both during akuma attacks, so who truly knows what is and isn't real during those? Secondly, Santa Claws seemed to just be a friendly old man who dressed up as Santa; not Jolly Old Saint Nick himself, and his 'Santa' powers were because of the akumatization. So he doesn't count. Finally, I'd hate to break it to you, but the Santa we met when Paris was overwhelmed by giant attacking toys wasn't real. It was Chris Master's powers manifesting his interpretation of Santa: the Santa in his snow globe.” Ladybug rested a comforting hand on Chat Noir's arm.

“How do you know that wasn't the real Santa? He said he'd see us next Christmas Eve; tonight!”

“He said that because it was what Chris wanted Santa to say.”

“How do you know that, though?”

Ladybug's breath hitched, and she simply shrugged. “What? You can have Cat Intuition about how the Agreste mansion security works or the fact that Volpina had an illusion instead of the actual Adrien Agreste, but I can't have Ladybug Intuition about whether or not that was the real Santa?”

Chat Noir studied her for a tell, but eventually caved. “Okay, you got me on that second meet-up with Santa; that probably wasn't the real one. Although, you were the top of his Nice list, so maybe you should hope that your Ladybug Intuition was off, and that was really him.” He winked. She groaned. “Either way, he looked a lot like the man who got akumatized into Santa Claws, which means it could be possible that the man last Christmas was in fact the true Santa, but was posing as a regular citizen.”

“Why? Especially on Christmas Eve itself? Wouldn't he be too busy delivering gifts?” Ladybug tried to keep the smug look off her face, but Chat Noir's lips kept puckering more and more with each question. She could tell that he was trying to build up a rebuttal.

Chat Noir opened his mouth to respond, pointing at her in stunned silence. A second later he relented, shrugging in defeat instead. “Alright, so maybe we haven't met the actual Santa, but that doesn't mean he's not real.”

“He might have been, once. There could have been someone who spent Christmas Eve delivering gifts to the children of a very large area – so that it felt like it was the whole world to those people – and the legend of Santa came from that, but I don't know if I trust that he's still real.”

“Well, why not? I knew you could be pragmatic, but even this seems a bit much for you.”

“He'd be well over a millennium old, for starters.”

“Yeah, but what about Master Fu?”

“There's a bit of a difference between two-hundred and two-thousand years, Chat Noir.”

“Still, Master is as old as he is largely because of the magic of the Miraculouses, isn't he?”

“Possibly.”

“So why is it such a stretch that Santa has magic of his own, and part of it is the long life, or even immortality? The Miraculouses can't be the only form of magic within the whole world, can they?”

She gave it thought. “Alright, valid point. What about the gifts, though?”

Chat Noir lounged across the roof and dismissively waved his hand. “I already told you: magic. He probably has a bag with access to a pocket dimension or some-”

“No.”

Chat Noir rocked his head to the side. Ladybug pivoted to face him, folding her legs in front of her as she anchored her hands to her ankles.

“No,” she repeated, “I'm not even talking about the plausibility of him carrying all the gifts with him or getting in and out of people's homes. If I'm going to agree with him nearing two-thousand years old because of magic, I'll concede on those other magical parts.”

“Okay, so what's wrong with the presents then?”

Ladybug scooted closer to Chat Noir and leaned a little towards him, energy buzzing off of her. “If Santa Claus truly delivers presents every Christmas Eve, then why is it that most adults don't believe in him? Wouldn't him delivering gifts to their children convince the parents that he's real? Since a large portion – probably even a majority – of adults are also parents, wouldn't someone somewhere have factual evidence of his existence by now? Or, at least, wouldn't it be a much more widespread belief, even among adults, that he's alive?”

Chat Noir sat up, hugging one leg to his chest. His eyebrows furrowed, and he wouldn't look at Ladybug.

“I mean, think about it,” Ladybug continued, rolling onto her knees as she began to gesture wildly. “You and your wife wake up Christmas morning, and gather around the tree with your kid- You're picturing me as your wife, and imagining what our kid would look like, aren't you?”

Chat Noir sheepishly smiled and shrugged.

“Never mind that. Not the point.” Ladybug waved the thought away. “So your kid is opening up gifts, finds one that is labeled 'from Santa,' and unwraps it. You don't recognize this gift. You haven't purchased it for your kid. You may just think your wife must have gotten it and not told you, so you let it go. But this keeps happening every year, so you finally ask your wife, and she tells you she always thought you were the one who bought those gifts, because she certainly didn't. Isn't that suspicious? A random present from neither of you managed to make its way under your tree? Every year? Wouldn't you want to figure out who put it there? And you hear your friends – who are also parents – saying the same thing happened for each of their kids. Wouldn't that alone be enough evidence for most parents to believe that Santa must be real, because what other explanation is there for the mystery gifts?”

Chat Noir tapped his chin with two fingers, scanning the clouds for answers. “Yeah, I guess that's true.”

“On the flip-side, if Santa doesn't actually leave any presents - so that parents don't question where they came from - then why does it matter if he's real, because he still isn't going to be coming to everyone's houses unless it's to eat the cookies.”

“I got it!” Chat Noir snapped and turned back towards Ladybug, he was also up on his knees, waving excitedly. “Magic again.”

“How so?”

“Santa's magic is memory focused. He doesn't actually use chimneys – which really helps explain all those homes without fire places – instead, he arrives just before the parents lock up for the night, and he uses his magic to make them believe they already did. He then enters, leaves the present, and locks the door behind him as he goes on his merry way. His magic then makes the parents believe they had munched on the cookies to give the illusion of Santa, and that they were the ones who purchased the gift for little Julien. The question of 'who got him that present' never comes up, and Santa still remains a glorious holiday mystery.”

“What if the parents, still disbelieving of Santa, already bought little Mary a gift from 'Santa' and already ate the cookies before going to bed?”

“Then Santa saves on unneeded calories, and he switches up the 'Santa' for 'Mom and Dad'. Then his power works exactly the same way; except this time it also makes them think they didn't label the one gift as from 'Santa' at first.”

“It's still too many homes to leave presents for in one night.” Ladybug sat on her heels and crossed her arms.

“I thought you were going to concede on all of the 'other magic stuff'?”

Ladybug shrugged.

“Okay.” Chat Noir thought for a moment. “What if his powers also allows him to teleport? Or to slow time? Or to pause time? We have Miraculouses that could do some pretty crazy things, after all.” Chat Noir's ears perked and his belt-tail twitched as if it were real. “Wait a minute! What if Santa has a Miracle Box? That feast amuk was encased in stone before leaving Tibet, and we stopped it while it was still in Paris, so what if it didn't have a chance to make it to Santa to eat his Miraculous?”

“Master would have told me if Santa was one of the guardians.”

“What if he didn't know? What if there were Guardians secretly placed throughout the world, and for their safety, the monastery Master Fu trained at didn't have their names?”

“And he only uses the Miraculous once a year to provide extra Christmas gifts?”

Chat Noir started counting out his points on his fingers. “He's not using the Miraculous for his personal gain, so it's not breaking any rules. He's providing joy and wonderment to the world. He's making sure every kid gets at least one gift they'll love, regardless of the parents' financial or emotional standing. We don't know what he does with the rest of the year, so maybe he's protecting the world just like us, but with his memory-altering Miraculous powers, the world just never figures it out.”

Ladybug simply stared at Chat Noir. He held his ground and kept her gaze.

“Alright.” Ladybug pivoted on the roof ledge, and dangled her legs below her. “I relent that there's a possibility that Santa is real.”

“And a Miraculous Guardian?”

“It's a stretch, but I guess I can't argue against it. Not right now, anyway.”

“So does that mean you'll wait up for him?”

“No, that means there's no point. If he is real, and he does have a way of altering memories, then I doubt he'd let either of us remember seeing him. He's been doing this for over seventeen-hundred years, after all.” She gave Chat Noir a side smile.

“I guess that's true.” Chat Noir deflated a little and sat beside her.

“Besides, I thought you wanted to go to bed so you didn't chance missing out on your gift from him,” she teased.

Chat Noir curled into himself and blushed, again unable to look at Ladybug. She instantly knew she went too far. She couldn't say goodbye to him like that.

Ladybug detached her yo-yo, and looked intently at it. Chat Noir followed her out of the corner of his eye.

“Ladybug?”

She gave him the tiniest hint of a devilish grin while pressing a finger to her lips and shushing him. “Don't tell on me, okay?”

“Tell?”

Ladybug threw her yo-yo straight up, calling out “Lucky Charm!”

“What are you doing?” Chat Noir again hopped up onto his knees as he studied her. “What about no personal gain?”

The charm landed in Ladybug's hand, and she closed her fist around it before Chat Noir could make out the small red object with black spots.

“I think this one can be allowed.” Ladybug re-attached her yo-yo to her hip, and stood on the main portion of the roof. With Chat Noir still seated on the ledge, they were about eye-level.

He tried to spy her charm, but she kept her hand hidden behind her back. “So, what convoluted plan do you have for that?” He stood to try to look over her shoulder, but she blocked him with a stiff arm.

“Nothing too bad. Now sit back down.” She pushed gently on his chest, and he plopped his butt back onto the roof ledge. “Perfect.”

She then placed her hand in between them and unfolded her fingers. Resting on her palm was a tiny sprig of mistletoe, although, with the red coloring and black spots, it looked more like holly. With her spare hand, Ladybug held the Lucky Charm mistletoe sprig over their heads, then leaned in to kiss Chat Noir. Giddily, he rose to meet her, his hands reaching out for her waist as he puckered up and eyes fluttered closed.

She giggled, and used a finger to turn his head so she could kiss him on the cheek instead.

Chat Noir pouted and sunk back onto the roof. “You're supposed to kiss on the lips under a mistletoe.”

“Sorry, Kitty, but I do still love someone else.” She flicked his bell, and placed the sprig of mistletoe beside them. “I will give you one more gift though.” She cupped a hand on either side of his face, and pulled it towards her. Angling his head down a bit, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and then rested hers against it. “Merry Christmas, Kitty.”

Chat Noir wrapped his arms around Ladybug and squeezed her close to him; breathing her in. “Thank you, Ladybug. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

She let him hold her for a moment, and she held him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. With their eyes closed, and the normally bustling city quiet with snow, it didn't feel like there was anyone else in all of Paris but the two of them. It only lasted a moment, but it was calming for them both.

He's right here, Ladybug thought, he's not Chat Blanc, and I'll stop him from ever feeling that desperate and alone.

She's here, Chat Noir thought, she loves someone else, but for right now she's here and I can pretend for a few seconds that I'm the one she's in love with.

The thought didn't make Chat Noir purr, as it usually did; instead, a small whimper escaped his throat.

“Chat Noir?” Ladybug leaned away from him, breaking the illusion.

“Sorry. I had a moment, but I'm fine. Thank you again for spending time with me tonight.”

“No problem, Kitty. As long as you don't want us to make a habit out of this.” She ruffled up his hair until he broke his hug in a giggling retreat. “You are a friend of mine, Chat Noir,” Ladybug continued in a serious tone. “I want to be here for you whenever you need me, and I do enjoy spending time with you, as long as you're not flirting.” She cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.

Chat Noir meekly smiled back as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Is my flirting really that bad?”

She simply raised the second eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“In love with another guy,” Chat Noir sighed, “Right.”

She took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “You'll find someone. I promise. She'll see the amazing Chat Noir that I do, but she'll get to know your actual name, and her heart will be only for you.”

Before Chat Noir could respond – and Ladybug knew he wanted to – she let go, and lassoed a nearby light post. “Merry Christmas again, Chat Noir.”

He gave her a genuine smile in return. “Merry Christmas, M'lady.” He said nothing else, and Ladybug was grateful. Her earrings started rapidly beeping. It had only been about three minutes, but Tikki always seemed to wear out faster if Ladybug used her Lucky Charm for personal reasons. She probably didn't have much time left.

“Let me know if you do catch Santa,” Ladybug teased. She then scooped up the empty pastry boxes, and loosened the tension on her yo-yo, sling-shotting her through the Paris skyline.

Chat Noir looked at the discarded Lucky Charm sprig of mistletoe, and brought it up to his lips. The trinket cut their evening together short, but it was worth it for those kisses, and that hug. A couple of seconds later, the sprig burst into pink glitter that vanished in the air; like a miniature firework. Ladybug must have de-transformed, and the Lucky Charm vanished with her other superpowers.

Chat Noir no longer had his keepsake from the night, but he had his memories. Those were enough, and he trusted he'd make many more with Ladybug over the years.

Now he had to figure out how to capture Santa so he could prove to his lady that he was right.

19 notes · View notes