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#might make a few smaller posts about specific things that really had me rustled
blund3r-bust3r · 3 years
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so i’ve since had a chance to rewatch rise of the titans and i want to make a not so quick post about my overall thoughts
the ending didn’t ruin the movie. the movie had already hurt itself long before we knew what the khronosphere would do
i don’t even dislike the ending that much. it definitely wasn’t the ending toa should have gotten but it’s honestly so much less offensive than how criminally underutilized much of the main cast was throughout the movie. i think this type of ending could have worked with a smaller scale story, because it does imply a constant loop of trying to find the right combination of events for the best outcome and i think that has potential to be fun. problem is toa is kind of long overall and that’s a LOT of backtracking to consider. this kind of ending suits a standalone movie better than the conclusion to a three series’ long epic
tales of arcadia is the king of bittersweet endings (see: all three shows) and it really feels like this should have been the one time their efforts truly paid off. but they left room for a happier outcome, so i’ll let it slide cause i’m already over it
here’s really why the ending rubs me the wrong way: a lot of things in the movie happened because the writers knew they had a way out no matter what. exposure of magic in metro city, the changelings dying, archie and charlemagne trapped in hong kong, etc. especially toby dying. and i see many people saying toby’s death should have been permanent, but let’s be real. it’s a kid’s show and the studio would have never allowed one of its child protagonists to be killed off permanently. if they hadn’t planned for jim to reset the movie’s events it would have never happened, regardless of if it was a better narrative choice (which i actually disagree with)
i think the movie’s gorgeous. its ost is some of the best toa has to offer. all the new locations made the story’s scale truly feel massive and i cannot express enough how much i adore the team that worked on it all. but we were never going to get something totally satisfying with the way the presentation played out. wizards, whose runtime was sacrificed for the movie, was the ultimate indicator of this. its story was bogged down by constant plot progression that was so thick it was hard to process, and rott suffered the same fate on a way worse scale. it didn’t have time to let the characters breathe, let alone feel like the ones we know
i just think the movie could have benefitted so much more if it had abandoned some of its established elements. throw out the trollhunter amulet, heartstone junk, center of the universe concept (this was so bizarre), and time travel. split the hero role more evenly and have the characters play off one another’s unique skills more openly (fight combos anyone?). indicate some passing of time between the ending of wizards and the beginning of rott because the transition is quite jarring jumping from one to the next. make the titans stronger, not the characters weaker
finally, make toby the one who delivers the killing blow to the big bad instead of jim. there. i made him a hero without having him die. no reset needed :)
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astralkoo · 3 years
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the huntress | jungkook (teaser)
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Pairing: jungkook x (f.) reader
Genre: werewolf au, hunter au, action, thriller, angst, fluff, smut
Rating: 18+ (graphic violence / explicit sexual content)
Estimated Final Word Count: 15-20k??? Maybe more bc it’s already at 7.4k and I haven’t even fully hit on the main plot yikes
Teaser Word Count: 1,780
Summary: You are a hunter. You are a protector. And you are a killer. These are simple facts. Facts that have been drilled into your head since you were a child. These facts are all that you know, all that you can rely on when the world around you is constantly changing. But, what can you do when one of the very creatures you’ve been taught to hunt, taught to kill, taught to hate makes you question everything you once believed?
Warnings: explicit language, descriptions of blood, graphic violence, death, killing/murder, jk is kept in a cage, panic attack, betrayal, sad jk, explicit sexual content; sex in a lake, unprotected sex (please be safe!!), sub!jungkook, dom!reader, virgin!jungkook, lots of whining, light dirty talk, hand job, fingering, jk has a kissing kink, oral (f. receiving), biting, reader calls jk puppy (all warnings are subject to change)
Release Date: TBD
A/N ; ah shit here we go. she’s been coming along pretty smoothly, so I thought it was the right time put the teaser out for you guys! I’m really excited to get the full fic posted and hopefully it won’t be too far in the future, but with my track record... I can make no guarantees. thank you for 1.4K followers!! I hope you enjoy!
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You felt it building in your chest, swelling into something large and uncontainable. The sensation creeping up your throat, filling the back of your mouth and forcing open your jaws. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes and your dry lips strained as they stretched open, the monstrous yawn finally breaking free.
Fuck. You are so tired.
It had been an exhausting day to begin with and of course, with your luck, it was your turn to take the night watch.
Around you, the forest was alive: crickets and cicadas singing lazy songs, the warm summer breeze rustling through the leaves, the waning moon casting a cool silver glow over the sleeping earth. Beside you, the dying remains of a bonfire flickers and spits blazing embers, choking and fading with every gust of wind. The darkness is slowly closing in, the eerie shadows of the surrounding trees creeping closer and closer with every passing minute.
Gravity pulled at your eyelids, the sweet lure of sleep all too tempting.
Crack.
You shot upright, eyes wide and alert, ears straining. It was too dark to see past the outer layer of trees, and a heavy silence followed, only remedied by the soft crackling of the singed wood. There’s a familiar prickle under your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It’s dark, but you don’t need to see to know that there is something out there. Call it a self-made sixth sense if you will, something you’ve developed and trained into perfection over the course of many years.
Instinctively, your fingers reached for your bow. The sleek black metal scraped against the large stone it was propped up on as you swiftly and silently fall into position. Unsheathing an arrow from the leather quiver, you pull it back against the string until you feel that perfect tension. The side of your thumb caresses the cool skin of your cheek, and you close one eye, honing in on the dark tree line.
Come on. Give me a reason.
But you’re only rewarded with silence.
After a few tense moments, you slowly lowered your weapon, brow twitching in irritation.
“Get a grip, y/n.” You grumbled roughly.
You were on edge. It’s understandable; you were in completely unfamiliar territory, with no reliable knowledge of the land or its inhabitants to lean back on. The knowledge which you did have, however (that being the knowledge that the nearby town had been getting ravaged by a bloodthirsty beast under the cover of nightfall), didn’t ease the tension in your shoulders in the slightest.
After all, that was the whole reason for your troop’s relocation.
A little over three weeks ago, the head of your troop received a letter from a desperate mayor, pleading for your help. They had a problem. Almost every night for the past month, towns people that wandered the streets late into the evening when the sun had set behind the hills and the moon had risen past the horizon, whether it be walking home from a long day of work or going for an evening jog when the summer heat wasn’t so unbearable, had been getting killed. No, not killed— slaughtered.
You’d seen the pictures.
No human being was capable of doing what had been done to those people.
Ergo, the exigency for your troop’s presence.
This town didn’t need cops, they didn’t need police or detectives searching for some rampant serial killer. What they needed were hunters. More specifically, werewolf hunters. Which is precisely what you were. ‘Slayers of the Supernatural’, some might say. Your job was simple: find the murderous creature responsible for the bloody deaths of thirty seven innocent civilians, and eliminate the problem, once and for all. Pretty cut and dry when you think about it.
And for a troop as skilled and experienced as yours, finding and ending this bloodthirsty beast should be a cinch.
But, that didn’t make sitting out, so painfully alone in the dark of night with a killer werewolf on the loose any less unnerving.
Now, you weren’t afraid of the monster itself, you’d held your own against its kind and worse plenty of times in the past. No, it was the deafening silence that was most disquieting. The stillness. The lack of happening. It set you on edge, made it feel like you had to hold your breath to get the slightest idea of what was going on around you. The wait had always been your least favorite part of the hunt, despite it being one of the most vital.
You’ll admit, you can be impatient. It was your most notable cause of failure back in your training days and in some of your earlier hunts. But you’ve gotten better, become capable of capping your overzealous antics, improved in terms of self restraint. Though, you’d still much rather be in the heart of the action than sitting on the sidelines and waiting with buzzing anticipation nipping at your heels.
Exhaling heavily, you slumped back onto the ground, exhaustion quickly seeping back into your sore muscles once the brief flush of adrenaline drained from your system.
Then you heard the rustling of leaves. But this— it was different from the sound made when the breeze wisps through them. There was a certain force to it, a heaviness in the way the branches clicked and the leaves crunched. It was the sound of a body moving through the heavy foliage. A large animal? Maybe. Or perhaps it was something else entirely. Not human. Not an animal. But something in between.
Your hand was around the grip of your bow in less than a second, body swiftly falling into a low crouch.
It was dark. But the moon spilled just enough light over the forest for you to catch a glimpse of a silhouette: a tall, dark shape moving slowly through the brush. You had your mark. Now you just needed a reason to loose your arrow.
Never strike without absolute certainty that you have your eye on the right target. That’s what Junmyeon always drilled into your head during training after you attacked too early and without proper understanding of who (the dummy representing an innocent civilian, in such cases) you’d been aiming at. Because if you somehow mistook an innocent for one of the beasts you hunt— it was a thought you didn’t want to so much as consider.
Teeth gritting, you carefully followed the shadowy figure, feet shifting silently across the dirt. Suddenly, your boot clad toe suddenly knocked a pebble, sending it skittering across the ground. You froze, and so did the silhouette. Then its head whipped in your direction, and the very second you saw the flash of two unmistakable red eyes, your fingers released the taut string, sending the arrow whizzing into the tree line.
A shriek of agony ripped through the calm night air. The figure staggered, doubling over, before quickly righting itself and whirling around, taking off into the dense, black forest.
You didn’t let so much as a fraction of a second pass before you launched yourself off the dirt ground and bolted into the woods after the creature, a delicious combination of red hot adrenaline and childlike excitement immediately consuming you. It was this— this feeling, this exhilaration that you lived for. That you hunted for. It drove you in ways nothing else ever had. The combination of blood rushing through your veins and your heart thundering in your ears created an almost euphoric sensation. It was a high, thrilling and electrifying. But perhaps those weren’t quite the right words to describe it.
Maybe it was the fact that for these moments as you were rushing through the brush, low branches slicing at your arms and face, cool wind winding through your hair, you could clear your mind and focus only on this one thing, on putting every ounce of your energy into this one moment to accomplish this one feat. There wasn’t— there couldn’t be a single invading thought, doubt, concern. There was nothing but boiling determination, molten in your bloodstream.
Ahead of you, the creature rushed frantically through the dense forest, weaving and staggering around the bulging trunks of towering trees. It was trying to lose you. But you excelled when it came to the chase. The fact that it was wounded also helped; the dark red blood stained the leaves and mossy earth, leaving a clear path for you to follow.
You were catching up, the distance between you and it growing smaller and smaller with each moment. You could hear the creature's heavy footfalls, the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs. Within a few strides, you were within arms distance. If you were to reach out your hand—
Just as your fingertips grazed its back, you broke through the tree line. The creature, caught off guard, stumbled. A fatal mistake. Before it had a chance to recover, you rammed your shoulder into its back, directly between its shoulder blades, sending it stumbling forward with a stunned yelp. You hadn’t even noticed the massive body of water until he fell into it. Always be aware of your surroundings, you reminded yourself sharply, before honing in on your target. The water, reflecting the night sky like a mirror, rippled and spat around the form of the creature as it attempted to scramble away from you. But you didn’t let it get far.
You thrust yourself on top of him, pinning his kicking legs down with your own and making a grab for his flailing arms. A sharp hiss rushed past your teeth when you felt something slice into your arm, but you paid no heed to the warm, familiar trickle of blood. It only fueled the roaring fire of determination inside of you further. He was bucking up, thrashing wildly, trying to throw you off, but you held fast, angling yourself in such a way that you had the upper hand. Icy water splashed across your face, seeping into your clothes as you used all your strength to keep him down. But it wasn’t easy fighting a werewolf with your bare hands. Not even a wounded one. And you were quickly growing sick of feeling the piercing sting of his claws cutting through your clothes and biting into your skin.
In one swift motion, you unsheathed the silver blade hidden in a pouch sewn into the inside of your boot. Every muscle in his body froze up at the feeling of cold metal pressing threateningly against his vulnerable throat.
Panting through clenched teeth, you pinned him with a chilling glare.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat.”
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danifics18 · 4 years
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🎃  Dance of the Wolves  🎃
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Welcome to day one of Spooky Time Drabbles! I have thirty two prompts that I’m going to attempt to pump out in spirit of Spooky Season! If you want to see a continuation of any of these works- let me know! Once I post the majority of my Spooky Time Drabbles, I will be posting any extra smuts, or small continuations. 
Tags : Werewolf! Mingi//PWP//Marking//Slight ass play//cunnilingus//knotting// 
TW: Mentions of blood
Word Count : 4k
    General Masterlist    Ateez Masterlist
  With a cold breeze skittering down your spine, you place the last box inside your home to look around, figuring out where to place the new Halloween decorations you’d just bought that day.
  Moving away from a big city, to follow the feeling of Wanderlust- as your mother would’ve put it, to end up moving to a much smaller town in a more remote, forest area. It wasn’t even a quarter of the size that your previous town was, but you like it. The neighbors were kind, the community was tight-knit.
  It felt like home.
  And with the feeling of home and wanting to fit in in mind, you decided what better way to fit in than to join the town’s celebration by decorating your house to match the others. 
  Normally, for Halloween, you would’ve left a candy bowl out by your door for anyone in your apartment floor to get, along with hand delivering small bags of candy to your apartment’s security guard - Seokmin - for him and his kids to have, as well as to the elderly couple who lived right down the hall. But, besides that, you weren’t the one to really go out that night, preferring to stay in and watch movies like ‘Halloween Town’ or some other movie that wasn’t deemed as scary. 
  But much to your findings, people here didn’t celebrate Halloween, instead they celebrated something they called ‘The Dance of the Moon’ - where they essentially partied all night at home and at the town square. From what your town mayor , Mr. Song, explained to you, was that hundreds of years ago, the small town had been plagued by wolves. They would go after children, elderly, anyone who couldn’t readily fight back from being eaten. Every time someone was found missing, the townspeople would send a group to kill some wolves; how many people were taken and eaten- that was the amount of wolves that would be killed in return.
  “An eye for an eye,” as the older gentleman had explained, with a hardened look on his face.
  Supposedly, the resolution was found as the town had experimented with what would please the wolves- since back then, the closest town with a decent hunter was days away, and there weren’t enough people to both send out and watch over the rest of the town. The wolves would stop going after a lot of townspeople if there were sacrifices made.
  The Mayor was quick to assure that the legends hadn’t specified human sacrifices- they never exactly said what was sacrificed, really, but for the past thirty years or so, they had been using pigs, goats, or cows that were due to pass on soon. They would drop them off at a specific place in the forest, and knowing that the residents would be safe from any wolves, they would celebrate in the town festival until early dawn. 
  The last piece of information that Mayor Song had dropped on you before he handed you your house key- new residents had to participate in the festival. Seeing that you were the only resident to come in this year- it really is a small town with not a lot of travelers- he asked you to accompany the animals to the post; with his son, Mingi, of course. When you had agreed, Mayor Song had sent you on your way, notifying you that his son would pick you up with his animal hauler at around five, the evening of. 
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  To prepare yourself for the festival- that did make you a little unsettled, but you were sure it was just a stretched out rumor- you spent the week finding whatever Halloween knick-knacks for around the house that you could. 
  You had no plans of dressing up at all for the festival, until one of the ladies- Theresa- working the cash register, had asked if you had your outfit ready yet. With a glace to your face, she had explained that for the festival, people usually wear red, purple, white, and black. It didn’t have to be a full outfit or anything, but you would look like an outsider, since most of the town residents liked their outfits to look from back then. With that in mind, you quickly used up your last days trying to piece together an outfit with the corresponding colors.
  A white, knee-length, lace dress accompanied by a black headband, and purple nail polish. The red garment, however, left you slightly baffled. The only red clothing that you could find was a deep red cloak that you had bought on one of your ‘spurge days’, after getting your first job at seventeen. You didn’t need the item for anything, it just looked so cool that you had to have it. And now, so many years later, you contemplated wearing it- quickly deciding that you’d ask Mingi his opinion when he picked you up, but just in case, you’d wear a lipstick the same shade of red.
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  The day of the festival had left a pit of excitement in your gut. You hadn’t had work today- town’s rules that no work was permitted on holidays, and that included town holidays- and the same goes for tomorrow as well, although, it is asked of residents to come to the festival grounds to help clean up.
  As the day dwindled to late afternoon, you decided to head back home to get into your costume for later tonight, and then wait for the mayor’s son. This would be your first time meeting the boy, the only things you know is that you are the same age as him, and he’s got a deep voice- from what your coworker has told you.
  A loud knock on your front door snaps you out of your thoughts, checking yourself over one last time in the foyer mirror, before opening the door to see a tall man with brown hair- styled in a gelled undercut. 
  “Hi, I’m Mingi, it’s nice to meet you”, the mayor’s son reaches his hand out for a handshake, feeling your fingertips and palm tingle from the contact. Feeling thankful that he can’t notice the blush on your face, you shake his hand and return the greeting.
  You both take a moment to look each other over, and you have to admit, he looks good. He’s dressed in a flowy, long sleeve white shirt that has two untied strings in the front of the collar- showing off the black velvet choker with subtle deep purple moons embellished in the fabric - and a pair of cropped black pants. Looking up to meet his eyes properly, you gasp under your breath.
 Hearing a cow moo in the trailer behind him, he suggests that you guys leave now, before quickly turning to walk to his truck. Walking after him, you thank him as he opens your door for you, before he enters on his own side. 
  Throughout the drive, you both make small conversation about your likes and dislikes, finding out that you both had quite a bit in common. You were both shocked to find that you enjoyed things like Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, and neither one of you really like cake. You found out that he was a nature photographer who used to live a few hours away with some friends; he moved back a couple years prior after he had gotten attacked by some people who were illegally hunting who had mistaken him for an animal. He had plans to move back with his friends, he just felt like he should be back in his home roots for such a big injury. 
  Looking out the window, you try to make out any shapes of the passing by trees- the darkness of the early night made the forest a lot darker, being unable to see anything if it weren’t for Mingi’s headlights. For the next thirty minutes, the only view you could see was the dirt path with the occasional flying creature - probably bat - flying above the truck, before flying into the darkness. 
“We are almost where we need to be, there’s a small cabin that this road leads to. From there we can stop and walk the animals a mile out to the post”, Mingi says, his unnaturally bright, honey-colored eyes flashing over to you- being so bright that you can’t decide if they’re real or not. You’d been wanting to ask him since you had first noticed them, but you didn’t want to be nosy, or feel like you were asking a really obvious question. 
  Soon enough, the trees break away to show a meadow, a cabin and a shed in the middle of the clearing. Pulling the truck to a stop in the make-shift dirt driveway, you both get out and walk to the back end, where Mingi opens the back trailer revealing a single cow and two goats. Mingi hands you the leads for the goats as he takes the cow, and you both start walking down a pathway- stopping frequently when the animals decide to graze at the long grass. 
  Neither you or Mingi made conversation, besides the occasional comment towards the animals. Eventually, you both had made it to a pen of sorts, seeing other animals in the pen as well.
  Giving Mingi a questioning glance, he ignores you, taking the leads from you to walk the animals into the pen, before disappearing to the sheltered building, before coming out with handfuls of hay to give to the animals.
  “There’s no wolves out here, you know?” The tall man finally says, “ No actual wolves. Just me,” he finishes giving you a smile,” I know my father meant well, but I was hoping for this to be more natural.” Confused, you start walking backwards, your heart beating so hard you think it might go through your chest. 
  Not waiting for you to say anything, he continues, "I know you must be confused, but I can explain. You should probably stop walking back though; it is a full moon tonight, and my wolf isn’t in the playful mood tonight- especially not with how you smell.” As his last sentence rings through your ears, you quickly decide to ignore his warning, and run down the path back to the cabin.
  As you pump your legs faster you hear a forced laugh from the man, ”So this is the type of mate I have,” the pen gate rustles behind you, and as much as you want to look back, Mingi’s words make you feel the opposite. With the now red colored moon shining your path, you reach the cabin, not being able to decide what to do next. 
  Apparently, you wouldn’t have any time to decide anyways, seeing that as you started to go to the cabin’s door, a large hand grabs your shoulder, halting you from moving. Being forced to turn around, Mingi stares down at your form breathing heavily. Eyes widening, you start to squirm as you see his eyes now a deep red color, before freezing at the deep rumble that comes from his chest. 
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  “You're not too good at following directions, huh? C’mon, let’s get inside, I’ll make some tea and properly explain since you wouldn’t let me earlier. I won’t hurt you- if I had wanted to do that, I could've done that on the trip here,” He tells you with an unimpressed look, before walking you in front of him, to the cabin. 
  Minutes later, you were sitting down on a couch facing the fireplace with tea in hand, as Mingi sat on the recliner angled to the couch, tea in his hand as well. Taking a sip of his beverage, he clears his throat “ So, I’m sure my dad and some people have been talking about tonight’s festival,” you nod “Okay, well pretty much, my dad told you a different version of the town’s legend. We did try sending animals, but they hadn’t worked, it wasn’t until the town herbalist had offered to go out as a sacrifice instead. Seeing that nothing had worked, previously, and she was a recent widow, everyone let her,” Mingi stopped as he heard your soft gasp,” Apparently, she went out, and she did get attacked.”
  He paused, tilting his head as he asks” Did you know that wolves can tell when a human is pregnant?” You nod your head- you’d seen plenty of videos of how wolves in safe havens had reacted towards pregnant guests. Mingi smiles at your knowledge and continues on,” Well unfortunately, they noticed that she was pregnant after attacking her. As she was dying one of the she-wolves approached her, and somehow gave the human her life force- their spirits joining together. The lady survived, but she was the town’s first werewolf- her son being the first born werewolf. Seeing the power she had, the rest of the pack listened to her. As she went back to the town- the villagers considered it a blessing. It isn’t clear how it happened, but she was able to get the villagers to join their spirits with the pack. Of course there were people who rejected- and they left the village,” Mingi stops again sipping his drink.
  “How does that work though? Would that mean the entire town is full of werewolves? Isn’t that unsafe?” You ask, setting your now empty mug, on your lap. 
  “This has never been a town to get a lot of visitors. After a while of the town learning how to be wolves and humans, there were quite a few attempts to kill the pack from the people who’d left. The first woman, at that point she was what we call a Luna, had heard about a witch a few towns over who might be able to help- so they sought her out. After agreeing to help the witch with a small problem, the witch put a circle around the town. Other supernaturals can find the town- but to humans, this entire place is just forest. The only humans who can come here are like you, they’re mated. Destined to be with someone from here. And that person happens to be with me,” Pausing to gauge your reaction, he continues explaining,” Werewolves have mates, and they’re pretty much soulmates. I can tell because your scent is intoxicating for my wolf, it’s a very homey scent. You will be able to feel the pull the more we are around each other- for now, you’d probably get a ticklish feeling if I were to touch you,” You think back to when you’d shook his hands, and the feeling you got when you brushed against his arm- it makes sense, but earlier you had thought it was just your nerves from being around a handsome guy,” But eventually, you will develop a better sense of smell, and probably better hearing and sight- although it won’t be the same as being an actual werewolf. Unless, that is, you choose to reject me?” He questions with his facing down to look at the unlit fireplace.
  Taking a moment to think, you make up your mind before answering,” What do I have to lose?” You get up to place yourself on Mingi’s lap- something that you wouldn’t have done if it were anyone else, but you knew that you were comfortable with him.
  “I’m in a new town that although it might be new and strange, it still feels right. I definitely don’t understand the whole wolf thing, but there’s plenty of time to learn,” You finish, leaning into the large hand that was placed on your face. Feeling his breath on your face, you close your eyes as he gets closer.
  “I’m glad, now shall we go back to town? Everyone was really excited to be around a new face, you know,” Mingi says, placing a kiss on your nose.
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  Weeks turning into months, and months turning into years; two years precisely, you’d never imagined the day that you’d leave this cozy town that you had considered home.
  You and Mingi had officially started dating two weeks after first meeting- although, typically werewolves never really bothered with the whole dating thing, unless they weren’t mates- and you two were still going strong.
  With an influx of new packmates from a neighboring pack alliance, and Mingi’s need for joining back with his friends- which you had found out were actually his formed pack- you two decided to move away, to the plot of land that they owned.
  When you two had first pulled up to the place, you couldn’t help but scoff at your boyfriend’s words. “Only a small plot of land he says. And Disney World is just a small fair, right?” His only response had been a bashful grin. 
  The place still felt very homey, and very similar to your previous town; being located in the middle of nowhere, it was twenty acres of land, fenced off to show the property lines. It was pretty clever- seeing that when you first pulled into the main road in, it honestly looked pretty inconspicuous, if it weren’t for the big fence surrounding the place. 
  Meeting the pack members had made you a bit nervous, but you soon realized that they reminded you of brothers- very teasing, a little annoying at times, but you cared for them, and they cared for you. 
  Thankfully, you guys didn’t share a house together. It was bad enough that most times, you would wake up to find Wooyoung, Hongjoong, or hell- sometimes the entire pack in your house, eating your food and lounging about. Every pack member had their own individual houses- each spread out, and separated by a lot of trees.
  This was extremely helpful when it came to your boyfriend’s mating season.
  Usually, for his rutts, you guys had been fine for the most part. He hadn’t marked you yet, so of course, he would be a bit more aggressive and testy with the other males. But, unfortunately, his heat this time had definitely taken a toll on you both.
  With him being, essentially, part wolf, he can keep track of your cycles pretty well. If he’d noticed that you were bleeding, he’d be more attentive than usual. Early in your relationship, it had embarrassed you that he could literally smell you, but now - although it does cause some embarrassment - it doesn’t make you feel as weirded out, especially since he only tries to help you.
  But, a big downside of this has been him knowing when you’re ovulating. When this starts, you aren’t really allowed to go anywhere; Mingi’s wolf sees this time as your heat, even though humans don’t actually have one. It’s even worse when your ovulation is timed up with his rutt.
⇛                                                                                                                  ⇚ 
  Laying on your stomach with your arms crossed under your head, you blink your eyes open, shutting them as the late afternoon sun works its way through your window. As you decide to fall back asleep before your boyfriend awakens, the hand that is wrapped around your waist, tightens; your naked body shifts under the loose sheet as you get moved to your side.
  You attempt to even out your breath to trick your needy boyfriend into thinking you were still asleep. You loved the attention he gave you during this time, but with how long you two were going at it earlier today - hence why you had taken the nap in the first place - you did have a small worry in the back of your head of you both getting over exhausted.
  Your plan quickly got thrown out the door; a growl emitting from the chest behind you, as Mingi rutts his bare length into your lower back.
  Spotting kisses around your neck and shoulder, your boyfriend speaks.
  “You know, I think it’s so cute,” placing a kiss on your shoulder “That you think I can’t tell when you’re awake,” placing a kiss where your shoulder meets your neck “When I can still smell your sweet cunt beg for attention when I barely graze you,” he finishes with a light bite below your ear; a place that makes you breathe out a whine.
  “Mingi, please,” “Please what?”
 Pouting at his teasing, you pull his hand that’s wrapped around your waist, and place it in between your legs- sure that he can feel the accumulated arousal.
  “Please fuck me, I really need it. I really need you,” You beg, tilting your head to the side as much as you can to tantalize him.
  In an instant, you are shoved onto your stomach, Mingi’s thick thighs straddling yours, his long length resting on your butt. Feeling his precum dripping onto you, you grind your ass up to feel some type of friction- being stopped by Mingi grabbing your hair and pulling you back enough for him to whisper in your ear.
  “Little mate, I suggest you not tease me. I would love to make you properly mine- but if you keep acting up, my wolf will take over, and you will be marked and knotted,” His raspy voice makes your eyes flutter back. Inhaling a deep breath, his hand in your hair tightens, as he undoubtedly smells the new wave of arousal gushing out from his words.
  “Please Mingi. Mark me, knot me, I don’t care. I just need you in -!” Your begging gets cut off as you feel your boyfriend crawl down you- him lifting your hips up, and sliding his tongue through your slit.
  Rolling your eyes back as his talented tongue does wonders on you, he grabs your ass cheeks for more leverage. After sliding his tongue into you a few times, mocking what’s next to come, he travels up, licking at the pink hole between your cheeks. Reaching your arms out behind you, you attempt to hold him in place to continue eating you out. Much to your disappointment, he gets back up to his previous position, holding your hands behind you.
  “Baby, hold yourself open for me,” You quickly obey, grabbing your cheeks to present yourself to him.
  His groan fills your ears, before feeling his cock enter you, him only stopping when his lower stomach is fully resting on you. Being left breathless from the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud moan when he pulls out, only to thrust back in- the power of the thrust shaking your form.
After a few more slower thrusts, his resolve finally breaks, as he starts snapping his hips into yours at a faster pace; the room filling with the sounds of moans, and slapping skin.
  Hands having fallen, you grasp the bed sheet, as you raise your hips back to meet Mingi’s thrusts.
  Feeling his cock throb inside you, you moan out, letting him know you’re close. He bends down closer to you, hips pistoning even faster. If it weren’t for the pillow between the wall and the headboard, you knew that there would for sure be a dent in the wall.
  Placing kisses on your shoulder, to sweeten the blow that was prepared to come, he finally finds your sweet spot; biting down on it as he feels you come around his length. Whining at the intensity of the strong orgasm, you don’t notice the trail of blood running down your collarbone, from where your boyfriend was latched onto you.
  Mingi finally pulls back, slowing down his thrusts as he comes, his cock swelling in size and pumping his seed into you directly.
  Gasping out at the slightly uncomfortable feeling, your attempts to wiggle around are thwarted by Mingi laying his upper body on you- turning your face to kiss it. 
  “So this is what knotting is?” you question, as the uncomfortable feeling subsides, having adjusted to his large size “Yes it is. The knot should go down in around twenty minutes- there was a lot that went in, so it’s going to take a little longer than usual,” He replies with a tired yawn.
  Turning over to your sides, you press your upper body against his before falling asleep feeling content.
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nny11writes · 3 years
Note
You’re recent fic killed me!- could we have rex comforting ahsoka after a mission goes wrong? Maybe obi-wan and anakin are injured bc of a miscommunication by her
Alright, have some additional Declarations! 
This should still make sense without having read the full fic, but it certainly provides more background to this moment. And, also, Anakin is referring to that chapter I’ve been wishy washy about posting where the two of them FINALLY talk a bit and start figuring out how to communicate better. He is a good man doing his damn best, but Anakin is all about extremes.
“Alright kid, time to stop sulking.” Rex sighed heavily as he leaned against the bulkhead. It wasn’t like he knew where Ahsoka was hiding specifically but he’d narrowed it down to this room in particular. Stars, he hoped she wasn’t in the vents, they’d have to find the lankiest of them and force the poor sod up in after her.
His comm blinked on silently and looking down he could see Ahsoka sent him a message.
Not.
His whole body felt too heavy for a moment before he spoke aloud for her benefit. “No. No, I know you aren’t.”
He didn’t get another message and she didn’t climb down though.
Rex had to remember to thank Cody some time for the heads up on togruta. Obi-Wan had apparently gone half insane researching before that all blew up in his face, but the knowledge that she would be very quiet and make herself very small and might even hide away was the only thing that had stopped him from panicking when she was still missing. They were technically on shore leave and could do whatever they wished, sure, and Anakin had apparently told her to just take some time to stabilize.
“She’ll come back when she’s ready, and she’ll be ready sooner than you think.” Anakin had said with the strangest cross between a determined frown and a watery smile.
“Huh, who are you and what did you do with my General?” Rex had chuckled half confused before Anakin laughed.
“Yeah, well, we talked a bit after the whole…” Anakin waved his hands vaguely, but somehow Rex was sure he meant Grievous and Goldie. “Boundaries.”
Unsure what else he could do, Rex cracked another terrible joke. “Well, look at you. Rather big of you sir, I think you might be maturing.”
Anakin stuck his tongue out at him and really that said all he needed to about that.
But that conversation had been nearly three rotations ago, and Rex had a sinking feeling that Skywalker was doing his best without knowing what Ahsoka actually needed. Not that he thought he really knew either, honestly no one could know except for Ahsoka what she really needed. The first set of casualties under orders were always the hardest.
He stared at his comm until the backlight powered down before trying again, “Come on then little un, you know no one’s upset with you, so why are you hiding? Give me a good reason and I swear I’ll leave you and the K rations I snuck here alone.”
It took another long minute before his comm lit up again.
Fine.
He winced but did his best to put his new mental shielding in place. He didn’t want her assuming his upset was with her after all. There was some soft rustling that bounced around the storage bay and then Ahsoka dropped from the ceiling scaring him half to death. At any other time she would’ve been laughing at him, and the fact that she instead just walked over to him with her head down before curling up on the floor was…
Rex slowly slid down next to her and held out the ration and hydration cylinder for her. It took a small prompting with his free hand before she took them and mostly picked at them. He rather she have the fuel and option to consume it than not. 
“Would it be better if I wrote with you?” Rex asked, lifting his wrist with the comm.
There was a pause before she shook her head, and finally, blessedly, finally took a bite of food. Far as he knew the first food she’d had in over a full rotation.
“Alright.” He slowly, carefully put his arm around her shoulders, waiting for anything to cue him into stopping. “Is it okay if I stay here with you for a bit?”
A shrug, but at least she pulled out her comm again.
Okay.
“Then I think I’ll take a sit for a bit, yeah?” He squeezed her as gently as possible, and almost pulled away when she shuddered only for her hand to desperately catch his wrist and pull him against her more firmly. Message received Commander. “You know, General Kenobi called today and was asking after you. You want the updates sir?”
She started shaking in lieu of writing so he squeezed her tightly again. There were a few painful sounding gasps before she weakly asked, “Is he okay?”
Her raspy, absolutely wrecked voice was the best thing he’d ever heard.
“Kenobi reported that he was fighting fit, and Cody reported that he was released with light exercise restrictions for a week before actually being ready to slash some clankers.” He paused as she gave a small half huff, half sniffle. He’d take it. “But yeah, he’s perfectly fine.”
Ahsoka nodded before taking another, smaller bite of the ration bar. He could feel her lek twitch under his arm and quickly scanned her to make sure she wasn’t about to vomit all over herself. Probably the only thing that could make her feel even worse at the moment. But instead she simply put the ration away in a belt pouch and typed into her comm.
Men?
“Will be right in no time. Sinker is out of bacta as well and already back on the front.” He’d hoped she’d perk up at that, but instead she almost melted down. “Hey, that’s a good thing!”
There was another series of pitiful sounding gasps, but this time she didn’t speak instead she leaned further into him and reached for his wrist again.
“You don’t have to speak if you’re not up for it.” Rex whispered, knowing she’d hear him just fine and more concerned that she was going to force herself into something that would make her feel worse.
He’d had a batchmate like that, CT-8532, didn’t make it far enough to get his own name, but Three Two had always been more sensitive than them. A lot of the time it had benefited them as a squad, after all, Three Two could hear electricity so he could often tell if there was a pack of droids around the corner or not. But sometimes when he got too angry he’d go from screaming and crying to dead silent. And each time the trainers forced him to speak, it only made it worse. 
He’d made it off Kamino only to die with the rest of his squad on Geonosis.
What he’d give to listen to Three Two humming absentmindedly again…
“I know it’s already been said, but it wasn’t your fault. Orders were unclear and you did your best.”
Ahsoka went still and air hissed from between her teeth, and it broke his damn heart to hear.
“They were. They completely skipped vital info that-”
Ahsoka shook her head violently before ripping her hand away to type on her comm.
Obvious. 
Should’ve known.
Rex held in another sigh and made sure his shields were hiding his frustration before speaking. “No, it was incomplete orders sir. They sent you incomplete orders and incomplete information. Just because you can see the connections now, doesn’t mean it was obvious.”
Ahsoka curled up, hands going to cover her montrals as she went quiet again. 
He took the hint and shut his mouth, and instead sat with her quietly until he realized she’d fallen asleep at some point. Probably hadn’t been sleeping much, he’d wager money on it if he was allowed to have any. As carefully as he could, he scooped up his Commander and carried her quickly to her quarters. Doing his best to avoid and dodge anyone else to save her a little face. But once he’d gotten her into bed and gotten her a glass of water, he still sat down on the floor by her bunk.
She only woke a few times, but each time he reached up and squeezed her hand tightly, and each time she went back to sleep.
And that was a start. That was a good start.
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birdscreeches · 4 years
Text
To Fix | Aisha R.
Domeng has been awake since sunrise. 
His owner had taken him the moment the sun shone over the horizon, streaming into his coop in bars of light. The tie around his ankle had been gently unwound, rousing Domeng from the last fits of sleep and his dreams of victory. Vague images of blood and ripped feathers and raucous applause follow him as his owner lifts him from his coop, walking with Domeng tucked safely in his arms. 
The streets of Tondo pass like that. Shrouded in the last vestiges of certainty on their way to both of their turning points. 
The arena is deserted when they get there. His owner takes him out back to the cages. A stand of cages with rows stacked one on top of the other. Domeng is placed in the last one. His owner gives him one last stroke over his back, shuts the door of the cage, and leaves. 
Domeng doesn’t know how time passes after that. The energy inside of him blurs what would have been regular hours into swatches of moments. Owners stream in and, one by one, the cages fill up. The other roosters are as restless as he is but they don’t have it in themselves to drown in it. Instead, they pace the small expanse of their cages. Three steps, turn, three steps, turn, three steps—repeat. With nothing else to do, he follows. Three steps, turn, three steps, turn, three steps—the talon of his left leg scrapes against the rotting wood of his cell, it sends a shiver down his spine, his feathers standing on end—turn. A cacophony of manic, feverish, constant scratching, over, and over, and over, and—
“Domeng,” says Manuel from the next cage. Domeng hadn’t noticed he’d been put there. When did that happen? “Will you please stop that?”
“Stop what?” Three steps, turn, three steps, turn, three steps—
“Your pacing is giving me a headache,” Manuel grumbles, voice like dry dirt and rusted metal. 
Manuel always spoke like that. Manuel’s owner and Domeng’s knew each other, and often times when one would go speak to the other, they’d get tied to the same post outside in the sun. Domeng had been poised for a fight, because that was what they did, but Manuel hadn’t even gotten up, only cracking an eye to look at the young bird whose hackles were rising for no reason other than the belief that that was had to be done. Manuel always told him that he was too old and tired to attack him out of nowhere. Domeng always just thought he was too kind, but Manuel always hated hearing that. 
“Everybody else is pacing too,” Domeng stops so can turn to Manuel. Out of their entire row of cages, only he sits still. His feathers are unkempt and ragged from age. Down his chest, a scar causes a rift in his plumage. “You aren’t telling them to stop, are you?”
“They won’t listen to me. You, on the other hand, did.”
“Ah,” Domeng looks down at his feet and how he’s stilled. “You have a point.” 
Past the frantic scratching of wood, Domeng can hear it. The footfalls of men filling the arena. He can’t see any of them past the other row of cages opposite them, past the wall the keeps the back away from the stands, but he doesn’t have to see it. Their sounds, those sounds only humans can make, confusing warbles and roundabout grunts, crowd the air around them.
The cages seem even smaller.
“You’re fighting today, yes?” Domeng says, backing away from the door of the cage, to distance himself from the noise. 
“I’m here aren’t I?” 
Manuel looks so calm, just sitting there. He wears tranquility like he was born with it, like he grew in it, like he’s done with it. Domeng tries to copy him, sitting down, ignoring how his feet twitch with the need to run. Through the wood separating their cages, Domeng can feel the rough edges of Manuel’s feathers. 
“Are you excited?” Domeng asks him. 
“You’re a fool if you are, Domeng.” Manuel sighs, as if talking to a child. A wave of indignance surges in Domeng, unbidden and brave. “This isn’t something to be excited about. I’d have thought by this point, you’d know this.”
“It’s nothing against you, you know. This is my first fight. You can’t blame me for being excited,” he says, trying to sound dignified. If Manuel’s scoff is anything to go by, Domeng must have done a bad job. “It’s all I was born for.” 
“And it’s all you’ll die for,” drawls Manuel. Sometimes, when Manuel talks, Domeng can’t help but think he sounds like a person, what with how people always sound so tired all the time. 
“I won’t die. Not if I win.”
“If you win.”
Domeng puffs his feathers up. “When I win.”
“You’re impossible,” 
“You’re old.”
This shocks a laugh out of Manuel. Domeng can feel it rumble the cage, but the sound is all wrong. Too many jagged edges. “I suppose you’re right.”
From the arena, a voice pipes up from the mass mumbling. A few seconds pass of this one person yelling before it’s followed by cheers. A man comes into the back room and wrenches two cages open. For the first time today, the roosters go silent, their pacing cowered into trembling stillness. 
The man unceremoniously grabs a rooster in each hand and walks out.
Domeng knows what happens in a fight. Two roosters enter, only one leaves. He knows that Manuel has survived every fight he’s ever had. He might not have gotten out completely unscathed, but his scars are a sign of his victor, Domeng thinks. A sign of strength. He knows these things, but it doesn’t prepare him for the sound of it all. 
There are cheers, cheers so loud Domeng can’t hear anything but the vicious exclamations of men. Past this wall of noise, the fight is still strong enough to seep through. Quietly first. A rustle of feathers. A spray of dirt. A panicked cluck. Then, a flash of a second, and like a knife stabbed into the air, and there is a pained, anguished squawk. 
And then: cheering.
The man walks back into the room, placing one rooster back in its cage while the below it lays empty. Two more doors are wrenched open.
“Do you have any advice? For what to do?” Domeng asks, desperate to distract himself from sharp edge of sounds surrounding him.
“Stay alive,” says Manuel simply. 
“I was hoping for something more specific.” Domeng huffs. Another fight just ended, this one much faster than the last. Must have been a strong one pit against another who probably hadn’t grown all his primaries yet. It must have been that. “You’ve won so many, after all. You must have some tips.”
One rooster is returned. Two more cages are opened. Domeng turns and sees Manuel’s eyes trained on the ceiling. The wood is rickety and full of gaps like punched out teeth. Through the cracks, there is light. “I didn’t win. My opponent just lost. There’s a difference.”
“You make things so complicated,” Domeng stands, frustrated. Manuel does not stir. He just looks up at Domeng with an expression Domeng can’t place. “Do you have any advice on making the opponent lose?”
Manuel doesn’t answer for a moment, and all Domeng has company for is the racket of the next fight. Longer this time. Must have tired each other out. Helpless, Domeng begins to pace again. Three steps, turn, three steps, turn, three steps—
“Stay fast on your feet. Never stay still,” says Manuel, surprising Domeng. The man comes back. One victor. Two more fighters chosen from the lot. “Protect your eyes. A talon to the eye and you’ll be so blinded by the pain you won’t be able to see out of the other one.” Manuel doesn’t talk like a victor. He talks like Domeng’s owner after days of tireless work. “Protect your throat. What butchers do, we can do just as well. You’ll bleed out in seconds, and you won’t even die quickly. You’ll lie there in the dirt while the life drips out of you until the God those men are so afraid of finally lets you die.” Manuel’s words drip like Domeng assumes blood must. “Protect your chest. Some of them will try to rip your heart out. Some succeed. Some don’t. But you’ll never be able to forget it. You won’t be allowed to.” 
Around them, the cages get emptier and emptier.
“Protect your name,” says Manuel. “Stand tall. Don’t let them see you’re afraid.”
Domeng can’t hear the arena anymore. It’s still as loud as it was, but it’s muted. The severity of Manuel’s words lay heavy on Domeng’s back. 
“You know, I have a lot riding on this fight,” Domeng says because ‘thank you’ doesn’t seem like the right thing to say. “My owner, you know, he really took care of me. Carried me around everywhere, fed me, made sure I was strong. His life is hard, apparently, so this wasn’t easy, and I’m his ticket to make things better.” Manuel is looking at him again, and Domeng can see now that he’s getting looked at the same as the light from the ceiling. What that means, he still can’t puzzle out. “I don’t really understand it, but I know he worked hard for me. And I worked really hard for him too.”
“I don’t doubt it,” says Manuel, and this time, his voice sounds like grass. Gentle.
“We both put a lot into this, and it will pay off. If I stay focused and brave, I’m going to win.”
For a second, Manuel looks like he wants to argue in the way he always does. But he backs down. Maybe he understood what Domeng was trying to say. In Domeng’s mind, things were simple. In Manuel’s, he assumed things weren’t.
“I hope you win,” says Manuel.
Domeng clucks out a surprised laugh. “I thought you said there was no winning?”
“Well,” Manuel stands up. Domeng looks around and realizes the all cages are nearly empty or housing an exhausted rooster. The only ones who haven’t fought yet are himself, Manuel, and two other roosters. A man comes into the room. Manuel turns to Domeng, looks him straight in the eye. “Maybe it’d be nice to get proven wrong.”
The man flings Manuel’s cage door open and grabs him. With his other hand, he does the same with the rooster in the lower cage. 
“Manuel!” Domeng calls out as the man walks away. Manuel lifts his head from the crook of the man’s arm. “Good luck.”
Manuel is too far to say anything, but he nods once.
And then he’s gone.
With nothing else to do, nobody to tell him off, Domeng begins to pace again. He doesn’t want to hear the arena. He focuses on the sound of his talons against the wood. He focuses on the light streaming through the ceiling. He focuses on anything but the fact that his heart is hammering. This fight is long. Longer than all the rest. Wood. Talons. Small cage. Three steps, turn, three steps, turn, three steps—
The man comes back. He places the victor back in his cage.
Manuel is nowhere to be seen.
Domeng wishes he had time to grieve, wishes he had time to entertain the cold, overwhelming chill that had begun to grow in his gut, but he can barely even blink before his cage door is opened. The man takes the other rooster, Domeng’s opponent, in his other hand. Domeng meets eyes with his opponent, and he sees nothing. He sees nothing there but a terrified blankness, and inside his own chest, rattling along with the sharp pain of Manuel’s loss,  he found his own fear scratching against his heart.
The man takes them out of the room and into a small hall. Domeng is handed to another man, and they split ways, going to the other end of the arena. This man’s hands are rough, grip strong on Domeng’s body, nothing like the near adoring way his owner held him. His fingers hold onto Domeng’s legs, as if he were going to escape. He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He was born for this.
There, the entrance to the arena. 
The man takes three steps and—
The pain is like fire shooting up Domeng’s body. It’s like a nail being plunged into his body. The man’s hand around Domeng’s left ankle is heavy, but Domeng can’t even properly register it past the throbbing agony. 
He barely has time to blink before he’s flung into the arena. 
Around him, the stands of people begin to cheer. Their leery eyes look down on him. Their terrible little sounds. His opponent is pacing side to side, three steps, turn, and this isn’t fair. He worked so hard.
Domeng is ruined, he will be ruined, and he stands on his ruined leg, raises his head, and looks ahead. Protect your eyes. Protect your chest. Protect your name.
His opponent surges forward.
Never stay still.
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ograndebatata · 4 years
Text
Gift Memories and Floating Leaves - Extended Edition
Note: I first wrote this fic as a Secret Santa gift last Christmas, which you can view here. However, I have recently decided to revamp it slightly to include an element present in a fanart which she commissioned for her fic universe, and because I ended up doing a few minor typo and goof corrections as well, I decided this merited an independent post.
For those who already read the original version, I hope you also enjoy this new one. For those who are first reading this version, I advise you to stick with this one, but you’re free to check the older one if you would like. 
This fic is written as taking place in @lostbutterflyutau‘s Mirror World AU, and being familiar with it will help to understand much of what goes on here. But for whose who are unfamiliar with it, I will be including a few basic notes below to provide some context. 
Basically, this AU takes the show’s timeline as canon until Song of the Sirenas, at which point it diverges from the show, besides a few isolated elements.
A few key differences are that in this AU, Carla’s mother died when she was born, and Carla herself, after coming to see the error of her ways earlier than she did in canon, attended a school named Walter Mickey School for some time in a place caleld the Mirror World, where she grew as a person and saved the school and potentially more places several times. She also became one of the Princesses of Harmony, a group of magical girls, each with different powers of their own, Carla’s being that of reading minds.
In this AU, eventually Carla and Gabe fell in love, and started a happy relationship, and... well, I can’t say more without spoiling a key element in this fic.
But for anyone interested in a fuller context of this story, I very strongly recommend both her post with more information about the Mirror World AU (which can be found here) and her great fanfic When The Music Changes, which can found here (if you prefer FF.NET) or here (if you prefer AO3).
I hope you enjoy them both, and that you also enjoy this fic, whether you read the original version or are reading this one first.
_____
Gift Memories and Floating Leaves
At the Royal Palace of Avalor, on Noche Buena…
Standing on the balcony of the palace’s ballroom, her light blue wrap draped over her shoulders, the young brown-haired woman contemplated the twinkling lights of the massive árbol navideño that had been set up in the palace’s courtyard, as well as the smaller and more distant ones of the many decorations put up throughout the city, and the twinkling stars that glittered on the above sky.
It was a lovely view, matched only by the one she knew her violet eyes would meet if she turned around and peered through the ballroom windows. Behind them, people would either be standing in groups or twirling through the dance floor, the spirit of joy and love inherent to the season palpable in the air and visible in everyone, even those who for most of the year weren’t exactly the most agreeable people to be around.
Put together, both pictures combined in such a way that Carla couldn’t help but find surreal, as if Avalor had temporarily lifted itself out of the EverRealm and into another world.
It might seem like a weird figure of speech for someone who had literally lived in another world, but her strong points were dancing and magic, not poetry, and she felt it fit.
A brief breeze blew over her, rustling the glitter-studded dark blue of her ballgown and fluttering her loose hair and running over her skin like a warm soothing hand. Though Carla knew through Elena that ghosts only celebrated with the living on Dia de los Muertos, for a moment, it almost seemed like her mother was beside her this very moment, silently telling her that she got the metaphor, and she didn’t need to be so aggressive, especially with herself.
The thought warming her heart, she closed her eyes and took in a long, deep breath, releasing it in a drawn out, comforted exhale.
As a child, she never would have imagined she would end up spending Navidad like this.
Back then, it had always been pretty much the same thing, one year after another. She and her father would find some place to settle for the season, her father went all out with cooking (the only time of the year at which it was consistently made of purchased ingredients) bought her gifts that she now knew he had sometimes been hard-pressed to afford, and the two of them caroled together.
All things considered, besides the ‘extra mile’ her father went to, Navidad hadn’t been all that different from ordinary days. Her father always went as far as she could with cooking, gave her all the gifts he could afford without impacting their savings, and always tried his best to help her to not feel alone despite the fact that the only company they had was each other. The only real difference between that time of the year and all others was that, unlike all other ceremonies, which her father saw as opportunities to ‘raise their funds’, Navidad was the one where he insisted that people were to be left alone.
But now? Now she actually had a home she could call her own, an actual celebration to attend, and true friends to celebrate it with. And she even still had her father. Granted, he was back in the ballroom rather than outside with her, but that was a small distance, especially compared to certain previous years, which the two of them hadn’t even been able to spend together.
Having him with her was already something to be thankful for.
Her wrap slipped slightly. Carla adjusted it around her shoulders, looking down to make sure she hadn’t creased it.
As she did, her eyes met the silver band on her left hand, the purple gemstone twinkling like a firefly.  
A different kind of warmth filled her at the view.
By itself, it was already a beautiful jewel, but the meaning behind it, joined by the two sets of initials - one on each side of the gemstone - reminded her of something else she had for this Navidad.
Yet another thing to be thankful for.
“There you are.”
Carla’s heart gave a slight leap as she flew from her thoughts. Then, a smile spreading across her features, she turned around to the one she knew had spoken, her violet eyes meeting the familiar profile walking toward her underneath the gazebo.
The next moment, he stepped out of the shadows, giving her a full view of him in his dress uniform, and another view she found even better - that of his warm smile and twinkling eyes as he saw her.
“There you are,” she deliberately echoed, her happy smile turning into a teasing one.
Her chuckled fondly at her retort as he strolled up to her, the sword at his waist swishing to and fro with his steps.
As he rested his left arm over her shoulders and she curled her right one around his lower back, she asked, her voice more serious, “Is everything alright?”
She thought she had managed to keep her voice calm, but she couldn’t hold back the faint concern flickering up within her as she remembered Gabe’s departure from the dance. Today should be his night off, and the fact he was in dress uniform rather than his everyday guard outfit only reinforced that. But as she knew after years of being with him, it could be difficult for the Captain of the Guard to fully have time off. And just their luck, it seemed he had been needed during the Navidad festival.
“It is,” he replied, rubbing her shoulder soothingly through the wrap. “Just a few of the newer guards who weren’t certain of where exactly they should go on their rounds.”
Though a tiny part of her couldn’t help but think that that reason hadn’t been good enough to request Gabe’s presence specifically, the rest of her sighed in relief. At least it wasn’t about any villain having been spotted in the premises or some monster unleashed from a jar or some escaped criminal. Were it any of those, she could only guess their party would end faster than Cinderella’s. Festivals tended to be a magnet for scumbags of all sorts, and despite all the security measures that were put in place, there could be a few who were wily or lucky enough to get past them and wreak havoc.
She should know. She had helped to wreak havoc at similar events in her old days.
Don’t think about that now. She told herself, forcing down the lingering shame brought by the memories of her past life. Those days are gone.
Yes. They were. And she’d never want to go back to them. Not after learning how wrong they were.
“Well, I guess it’s nice that they feel comfortable enough with their Captain to ask directly for him,” she at last said, hoping she hadn’t spent too much time silent. “Even if they could have picked a better time to do it.”
She felt Gabe nodding against her.
“Yes. On both accounts.”
A moment of silence went by, the two of them basking in the comfort of being together. Then, she felt him shifting against her, his stance suddenly more rigid.
“And here?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”
She turned up to face him, meeting the liquid warmth of his chocolate brown eyes.
“It is,” she said. “Just a few… unwanted thoughts.”
His stance turned the slightest bit more rigid. “Is that why you’re out here?” A hint of alarm flashed across his face. “Did anyone…”
He let the sentence trail off, but Carla could read the rest of it just fine. Smiling up at him, she rested her free hand on the one he had over her left shoulder.
“No,” she said. “Nothing like that. I’m only out here because I was hot.”
His stance loosened at her words, but then, his eyes narrowed pensively, as if he was wondering whether he should say something he had in mind or not. Carla held back the urge to curl her eyebrow inquisitively.
“You used the wrong tense,” he at last added. Then, with a mischievous smirk, he added,  “You are hot.”
Her lips shifted into a smirk of her own even as joy bubbled up within her. He really was getting a bit too good at teasing her.
“So are you,” she replied, running her hand over the front of his jacket.
And she meant it. As much as it was part of her own teasing, seeing him in full dress uniform was a treat for her eyes.
An even better one than the usual view of him, at any rate.
The slim fit of his black trousers and dark blue jacket outlined his profile in a way that she could only describe as wonderful, the jacket's color going perfectly with the golden buttons that lined its front. Golden cuffs with matching cufflinks and two burgundy stripes running through their middle added what could only be described as a formal layer, which was only reinforced by the red collar with a golden top and laurel leaves of the same colour circling it. For a further element of fanciness, golden epaulettes with burgundy straps were fastened to the jacket's shoulders, and a length of golden thread that went from the jacket's shoulder to its neck dangled over the right side of the lapel. Adding a final touch of both color and fanciness, a creamy belt tied with a white band running along its middle circled Gabe's waist, securing a sword to it. And the five medals he had earned for his services to Avalor over the years, pinned to the jacket’s front by red ribbons, made up what could only be called the final missing elements whose previous absence was only noticed after they were already present.
For many people, it made for a very eye-pleasing picture. For Carla, it did the same, but it added a much more wonderful element. Namely, that of the happy memories of the the last time he'd worn it - on their wedding day three months prior. The day that had arguably been the happiest in their lives thus far.
As if reading her thoughts - which Carla knew that he, unlike her couldn’t do literally - Gabe smiled at her and drew her further into him, his lack of actual mind-reading powers never a barrier to knowing what she was thinking, not with how well he knew her. Taking care not to snag her wrap on his medals or buttons, Carla rested her head on his chest - careful so she wouldn’t poke his chin with her tiara - and listened to the comforting steady beat of his heart.
And for some amount of time neither of them cared about tracking, they simply stood as they were, the same warm breeze from before flowing over them as they contemplated the twinkling lights of the árbol navideño and the city, no words necessary between them.
It somehow seemed even more surreal than the sheer beauty of the picture all around her. And yet, she had no problem believing it was real.
Not when she could feel it so intensely, seeping into every fiber of her being and spreading through all of her to the farthest depths of her soul.
Another sigh flew out of her, this one dreamy. Gabe brought his free hand up and tucked one of her chocolate brown strands behind her ear, the hand he rested on her shoulder shifting ever so slightly, enough so as to let her feel the metal band resting around his ring finger.
A soft smile returned to her face.
They hadn’t openly talked much about it, but she knew from things he had said and done over the previous days, as well as from his own responses to some of her actions, that he was aware this Navidad would be yet another special Navidad for them.
“Soon,” she whispered to herself.
The next instant, Gabe shifted underneath her arm and head, and over her shoulders. Though she could tell without moving that he was turning an inquisitive eye down at her, she removed her head from his chest and looked up at him.
“I was just thinking out loud. And I meant how soon it will be yet another first Navidad for us.” Her lips curled in a mix of teasing smirk and fond smile. “Husband.”
Clarity lit up his eyes.
“I know,” he said. “And I can’t wait to celebrate it.” His look a mirror of hers, he added, “Wife.”
After a brief search for a reply, she instead ran a hand along his jawline, her smile still in place. As much as she liked to be a tease, this time somehow didn’t seem to be the right one to let that streak of hers unfold too far.
“And I can believe it,” he went on. “Even if I wouldn’t have in our early days.”
That was something else she got. After all, she had felt exactly the same way back in the days when she refused to even admit her own feelings for him, much less to do something about them.
And perhaps because of the season, one of those sprang to the front of her mind.
Despite herself, she briefly unleashed her urge to tease him.
“You mean like in a certain Navidad-related early day?”
Again, he didn’t give her a verbal reply. But his ever so slight nod, coupled with his fond chuckle and the spark in his eyes, told her that he understood what she meant, and was remembering the exact same moment right now.
///
Four years before, a few nights before Navidad, by one of the Avalor Palace’s living rooms…
Her heart pounding as she stood before the closed door, Carla aimed her tamborita straight at the lock, her senses alert to any kind of suspicious noise, and her being so jittery from the position she found herself in that she swore she’d jump out of her skin if a drop of water landed on her.
Thankfully it wasn’t raining, and the palace didn’t have leaks on the ceiling, but that didn’t make her feel any better. After all, being out in the palace in the dead of night seemed weird to say the least. Even if she excused herself saying that she couldn’t sleep - which sounded superficially plausible given she was in her pyjamas and a robe - coming all the way to this place during an insomnia would sound at least odd.
Of course, the suspicious air to her location was the whole reason she should stay here for as little as possible. The faster she was, the less chances she would be seen, she had told herself more than once as she kept staring at the door, as if her mere gaze could magically make everything end up where it should be and send her back to bed, safe from any suspicions.
Just get on with it! She told herself, mentally pushing all the determination she could summon through her being.
It was a sentence she had repeated more than once over the last five minutes or so. But somehow, this time it spurred her into action. Maybe something about her tune had been different this time. Or maybe she just needed to say it more than once to build up her determination. One or the other, it was meaningless. At least she could muster her will now.
“Nitla abrax conzaporti!” she whispered as she brought her hand down on the tamborita’s drum, trying to tap it in the slightest way she could while also doing so hard enough to cast the intended spell.
Violet pulses flew from the drum and toward the door lock, which then slid to the side with a low click. Then the panel itself slid open, more silent than a sheet of paper falling.
Armando really is a good chief of the castle, ensuring the door hinges stay so well oiled. She couldn’t help but quip in her mind.
Then, she scowled at herself. There was no time to joke when she was in such a compromising position.
At least it seemed that practicing this spell in secret had paid off. But there were still a hundred ways things could go wrong before she was done. And again, the longer she stayed up the more risks she took.
Finding it easier to return to her focus this, Carla aimed her tamborita to her right, at the sack that rested beside her.
“Llévaluq!” she said as she smacked the tamborita again. A purple glow bloomed around the sack, which silently floated off the ground and into the open doorway.
Twiddling her fingers, Carla directed the bulk through the room until it landed on its intended spot, the plush carpet muffling the noise.
Sighing in relief, Carla tiptoed into the room, hissing and grimacing as her bare feet briefly made contact with a few patches of uncarpeted floor. This was why she typically made sure to wear slippers. But wearing them now would make her steps noisier, so she had forgone them to reduce the potential giveaways.
A few seconds later, she pushed the door closed, but held it back just before it clicked shut. If the door fully closed, it would make noise, and bring about yet another potential giveaway. At least like this, as long as no one passed directly by the door and didn’t decide to give it a close check, there would be nothing suspicious.
For safety’s sake, she pressed an ear to the door, listening out for any suspicious sounds, like muffled footsteps on the carpet, the rustle of fabric as a guard walked, or even a guard’s breathing.
None came.
A breath forcing its way out of her lungs like clay, Carla straightened herself and headed into the room, half-lit by both the outside light that filtered in through the windows and the twinkling yellow and purple lights that decorated the huge pine tree resting close to the unlit fireplace.
Despite her nervousness, a smile blossomed on her face as she got closer.
There in the dark, with its lights now largely unhindered, rested what Carla thought was the most beautiful and most special árbol navideño she had ever seen.
True, she had seen others that could be described as bigger, or more opulent, or technically better in their decoration. But none could even come close to this one. The first true árbol navideño she had helped to set up since she decided to turn her life around, the first one where she’d truly had the fun of decorating in years.
Her smile only grew bigger as she remembered the various times she had spent working on it, whether it was picking out decorations with Elena and Isabel, or hanging them on the tree with Naomi and Esteban, or casting that spell Mateo had found to add twinkling firefly-like lights to the tree.
Even now, she could stare at it for hours, lost in the memories of the happiness that came with being part of something so special.
You don’t have hours! Her common sense shouted at her. Hurry up!
The warning making her spring back into focus, Carla hastened her step toward the árbol navideño, kneeling down beside her sack, which she had laid by the many gifts that had been placed under the tree. A relieved look spread across her face. No new gifts had been added since the last time she checked, and the current ones still looked indistinguishable enough from each other that there was no way to tell who had gotten each gift.
Her choice still held up.
A slightly easier breath flowing out of her, Carla unlaced her sack, looking into it as she plotted out her next course of action.
“What are you doing?”
A shout flew from her throat, her heart almost shooting out of her mouth as she jumped so high she swore her head nearly smashed into the ceiling. Her sack flapped as she rustled by it, her crash after she landed so noisy that it was a miracle she hadn’t woken half the palace.
“This isn’t what it looks like!” she yelped even as she whirled toward the sound, raising both her free hand and the one that still held her tamborita, her heart leaping like a demented monkey.
For a moment, she almost expected to see three or four guards raising their crossbows at her, their looks as stern as that of Elena when she had kicked her and her father out of Avalor on Carnaval.
Instead, only one guard stood there, and the only thing he had raised was his hands, even though he had a sword he could be drawing at her.
Even in the dim light, his startled and apologetic look was visible to her. And so was his identity.
“G-G-Gabe?” she managed to stammer, her heart still slamming all over her chest, but somehow an edge calmer at the sight of him. “W-w-what are you doing here?”
Of course, it was purely a rhetorical question. She could already paint the whole picture in her mind. Either he had been suspicious at the half-closed door or a faint breeze had somehow opened it before he passed by, all without her noticing. Then he had looked in, seen her kneeling by the tree and started thinking things. Probably bad things, given who she was and the fact she had her tamborita and a sack with her.
Strangely, his apologetic face shifted into a playful one.
“I asked first,” he quipped, somehow managing to sound endearing rather than silly or annoying, perhaps because of the wink he joined to his words.
Though her heartbeat was still frantic, she managed to muster a smirk.
“And I’m a lady,” she returned. “Don’t the rules of etiquette say it’s ‘ladies first’?”
The moment her sentence was done, she barely held back both a scowl and a wince, mentally kicking herself.
Where did that come from? Her inner voice shouted. Why on the EverRealm had her teasing nature decided to come out just at this very moment?
Fortunately, despite how it must have sounded, Gabe only nodded.
“Good point,” he acknowledged, the hint of a grin on his face telling her that he got her joke and was rolling with it, but at the same time something in his eyes conveying that he was also truly trying to respect her wishes.
Then, nervousness ghosting across his features, he stood straighter and then started speaking in a more official voice, not all that different from the one she heard him use with Elena when he was on duty.
“I was doing my rounds, and I saw this door was open, and saw you were here, and…” his voice faded, his arms twitching as if he was trying not to press them alongside his body or put them behind his back. “I have to confess I got confused.”
Fear flashing across his face the moment he finished his sentence, he raised his hands again and said, “Don’t get me wrong, I know you’re grown past your thieving days, but…”
Again, he fell silent. Carla waited for him to find his voice again, but while she could see from the unnatural stillness of his eyes that he was trying to find the right words, he didn’t make any more sounds.
And the silence dragged on, so thick Carla about expected to be able to hear the steps of the other guards as they did their rounds throughout the palace, or the crickets chirping outside.
“But?...” she eventually echoed, gesturing in circles with her free hand as if winding a crank.
His features and profile loosening a fraction, he added, “But my curiosity was strong enough that I just had to ask what you were doing.” After a moment’s pause, he added. “For some reason.”
He looked apologetic again, which Carla couldn’t help but appreciate.
But then again, there was nothing to appreciate to begin with. It was a good question after all. There should be no good reason for her to be kneeling by an árbol navideño with a sack in the middle of the night. And while she could tell from his voice and face that he really didn’t believe she was trying to steal anything, she could also tell that he was puzzled as to what she could be doing.
Before she could say anything, he shook his head with an annoyed scowl, the emptiness in his gaze telling her the expression was directed at himself.
“You know what? Forget it. I should have just left you alone. Like I said, I know you’re not here to steal anything.” He gave her a polite half-bow. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
He started turning around to leave, his gaze no longer focused on her.
Before she could stop herself, her arm shot up like an arrow, a single word flying out of her lips.
“Wait!”
Then, as the word finished, she mentally kicked herself again. But it was too late. Gabe had already turned around. Though his gaze was nothing but gentle and encouraging, Carla still felt as embarrassed as if she had actually been caught committing a crime.
But for a reason she couldn’t quite explain, she felt he deserved an actual explanation rather than to mull the matter over in his head and perhaps literally lose sleep as he tried to find the answer to his question.
His gaze remained as calm as before, but still, nervousness built up within her.
At last, she managed to whisper, “Promise you won’t laugh?”
She winced the moment the question was done, as if her body had already decided there would be a bout of laughter from it alone. But instead, his gaze looking even gentler and more encouraging, Gabe nodded.
“I promise.”
There was nothing forceful or demanding in the words or the way he said it, but her nervousness scarcely faded. After all, she was about to say something that would be weird at best. And yet, for some reason, as afraid as she was of what he could think, she wanted to tell him.
Fiddling with her bracelet as well as she could while she was still holding her tamborita, she tried to muster the nerve to speak up.
Then, she explained, “I’m dropping off my gifts for everyone.”
For a moment, his expression remained just the same. Then, ever so slowly, his left eyebrow started to curl, the hints of puzzlement all too visible in his widening eyes.
“And you need to do that in the dead of night?” he asked, the same puzzlement trickling through his voice.
“Yes,” she replied, trying her best not to look down in embarrassment.
He didn’t say anything, but she could read the next question on his features plain as day, even without using her powers.
Despite her nervousness, she managed to get out, “It’s just… I never had to get gifts for anyone other than Papá. And…” she paused, the incoming words seemingly so hard to utter that she needed time to gather strength to do so. “... well, in case they don’t like my gifts, I don’t want anyone to know they’re from me.”
Understanding dawned on his face. Again, Carla braced herself for laughter or some kind of reproaching comment. Now that he knew the reason, he was bound to find it silly.
But yet again, he didn’t laugh. More than that, he didn’t even seem like he was trying to hold back laughter. His gaze remained just as understanding as before.
“You didn’t need to have done that,” he soothed. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate the effort one way or the other. Whatever your gifts are, they will mean that you thought of them and took the time to get them something, because you like them.”
Despite the comment, Carla felt her whole being loosening. The calm and comforting way in which he’d spoken to her, rather than the mocking or derisive tone she had been so afraid to hear from anyone who might have caught her, made those words much better. At least as good as they could be when he was still telling her she didn’t need to go to such lengths.
She did suppose he was right, although she wouldn’t know for sure. Like she had told Gabe, she had never needed to get gifts for anyone other than her father, and even he hadn’t gotten all that many gifts from her, because she had only started being able to get away from him to buy them herself once she was fourteen, and even then she’d had her spots of trouble. Yes, her father had always liked the gifts she got him, and she had no reason to think her new friends and her found familia would be any different, but all the same...  
“I still think it’s better like this,” she managed.
Already, she gathered herself for further words of disagreement from Gabe, sure that he would keep insisting on the matter until she agreed that his point of view was the right one. But instead, he simply nodded again.
“I respect that,” he replied.
And though that sentence could easily be said out of mere formality, she could tell that he meant it.
“Can you please turn around then?” she requested. “I really would rather no one saw where I put anything.”
He gave her another polite half-bow. “I promise I won’t look.”
Then, without any further prompting, he turned around, suddenly rigid as if standing attention, though he was facing the door rather than any person. An invisible weight lifting from her, Carla again knelt by the tree and took her hand to the sack. All things considered, things had gone far better than she had hoped. While she had been caught, Gabe had believed her innocence and given her a chance to explain herself. And now that he was here, she’d be able to finish her job without without being seen by anyone.
Or maybe not. She realized, invaded by a sudden fear.
After all, Gabe was still here. What if…
Don’t be like that! She told herself. This is Gabe! When he gives his word, he keeps it! You know that by now!
Yes. That was something she had always known about him. It was true that many guys liked to pass them off as gentlemen when they were even worse than the scumbags she had met on the road, but Gabe was one of those who if anything was even better than what he proclaimed to be. If he had told her he would turn around, she had no reason to not believe it.
But maybe she should just make sure. And she could do it. After all, she knew a spell that could turn her tamborita’s surface into a mirror. And it was one of those that Mateo called a ‘hitless spell’, so she wouldn’t draw Gabe’s attention by smacking the drum. She only had to whisper the word and she would have a makeshift mirror on her hand, and would be able to see whether Gabe was holding up his promise.
No. She told herself. 
He had trusted her. The least she could do was now trust him in return.
All the same, it really might be better to simply be sure.
It’s Gabe! She insisted. If he told you he wouldn’t look, then he won’t look!
Then again, he might not just be able to help his curiosity. It had happened when he saw her in the room. There was no way to say it wouldn’t happen now.
Before he didn’t know what was going on! She insisted. Now he does! And he promised!
Yes, he had. And he never broke a promise. That was something Carla knew about him from the days she had been Rita. And, she realized now, it might have been one of the reasons she had never been able to bring herself to manipulate him. Granted, that should only make him an easy target by all means, but somehow, even for her self from back then, there had been something about Gabe that had prevented her from branding him as a target.
But still, maybe just…
I SAID NO! Her mind’s voice shouted.
Then, before she could change her mind, she finally seized one of the gifts from inside the sack, and placed it by the tree, at a spot where its wrapping wouldn’t stand out too much between the surrounding gifts.
Satisfied with her job, she repeated the procedure a second time. Then a third, and a fourth, and so on, until she had placed a total of eight gifts under the tree, each of them carefully placed at inconspicuous spots, inside wrapping paper that didn’t stand out, and with the name of the person they were for written in a disguised spelling so that they wouldn’t know it was from her.
Wiping a forearm over her forehead, she sighed in relief and grabbed her now empty sack in her right hand and her tamborita in her left one.
“You can turn around now,” she told Gabe.
So he did.
Then, to her surprise, he surveyed the gifts under the tree with the same probing gaze she saw him using during guard inspections.
Unlike those, it lasted only a few seconds before he looked at her.
“You did a good job,” he complimented, again somehow sounding both teasing and genuine. “I can’t tell which of these gifts were put there by you.”
She tried her best to shrug nonchalantly, her cheeks crinkling in a sheepish look.
“Well, I got one for everyone,” she said. “Even Esteban. I’m hoping no one feels left out.”
Puzzlement briefly flashed across Gabe’s face when she said ‘even Esteban’, but it lasted all of a moment. Then, for some strange reason, he started inching toward her, but stopped almost as soon as he started and straightened himself again. If Carla didn’t know any better, she would swear he had been about to move closer and comfort her, like she saw him doing a few times to Elena or Naomi, or even to Mateo once.
And despite her childhood mantra of keeping just about everyone at arm’s length, she couldn’t help but be a bit sorry that he hadn’t done so, even as she was above all touched that he had respected her personal space when he didn’t know if he was welcome inside it.
“Like I said, I’m sure they will appreciate the effort.” He smiled. “I know I would.”
She returned the smile even as she felt her blood rushing to her cheeks. She hoped so, almost as much as she hoped that it was dark enough for him not to see her blazing red face. After all, one of those gifts was for him. Which didn’t mean anything special, and wasn’t meant to - Elena and her family had each gotten a gift from her, as well as Naomi and Mateo. Of course Gabe would be included as well. Her getting him a gift didn’t have to mean anything.
Even if she had to admit she spent more time trying to find a good gift for him than for many other people. And that she, for some reason, was more worried about him not liking her choice than she was about other people feeling that way.
“Thanks,” she settled on.
“Anytime.”
Again, there was a moment of silence, after which he spoke up.
“Do you want me to escort you to your room?”
At first, she could only give him a dumbfounded look. Then, as if she was having a delayed reaction, a cartload of sleepiness crashed on her being as if the ceiling had come down on her. Before she could do anything to fight it back, a massive yawn forced its way out of her and into her right hand as she put it before her mouth for the sake of propriety, part of her unable to hold back the thought that she must look ridiculous by holding the empty sack in front of her as she yawned.
“Why not?” she replied after her yawn was finally out.
Saying so, she walked up to him, the two of them making their way to the door.
The fog in her mind suddenly thickened, despite her yawn to clear sleepiness out, almost making her sway on her feet. At the last moment, she managed to keep herself in check and hold a standing position.
And then her eyes widened in alarm as she saw what hung above the doorway.
“Wait!” she called, all drowsiness gone from her voice.
He snapped to a halt the moment he heard her.
“What?” he replied, alarm bursting on his features.
Her mouth opened and closed as she ransacked her mind for something to say in response. But despite her best efforts, nothing seemed capable of coming out.
She knew the real reason she had stopped, but she couldn’t tell it to him. If she told him that, he’d really think she was an idiot for sure.
But she had to say something before he started to get suspicious. Assuming he wasn’t already.
BUT WHAT DO I TELL HIM? She shouted at herself.
As if on cue, her eyes found the árbol navideño and the gifts underneath it. She seized it - that gave her a solution.
“On second thought, I think I’ll just check one more time, to really make absolutely sure my gifts are properly disguised,” she said. “Can you wait outside?”
This time, Gabe pursed his lips a few times, as if he was briefly struggling with whether or not to make a comment. But like on her request to turn around, he replied, “Of course.”
Carla waited with bated breath as he walked toward the door. For the briefest of instants, she thought she saw him freezing, as if he had also looked up and spotted what she did, perhaps even worked out her true reason to stay in the room. But before she could be sure of it, he kept moving and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Only when it clicked shut did she let out a sigh of relief.
That door had mistletoe hanging over it. And she knew what mistletoe meant. Couples who found themselves under it had to kiss.
So if she and Gabe had walked out of that door together, they would have had to do just that. And there was no way she would do it.
Would it really be so bad? A voice that seemed both annoying and patient asked.
Yes. It would. And not because it was Gabe. In fact, he had to be top of the list of guys she would mind the least about kissing if she found herself under the mistletoe.
Wait. Where did that thought come from?
It didn’t matter. Even if he was on top of that list, she would still mind about kissing him.
It would be her first kiss after all.
No one in Avalor knew that, and even most people who knew her in the Mirror World didn’t know so either, but it was the truth. Though she was eighteen, she had yet to have her first kiss. And while even less people knew that, she wanted her first kiss to truly be special. Weird as it may sound coming from someone with her background, she wanted it to be the kind of unique and dreamy kiss that was discussed in romance novels, the kind where only she and her partner seemed to exist in the whole world, where both of them were lost in each other and their feelings.
Yes, she still didn’t know if she would be able to have that, and she hadn’t yet found the right guy to share it with, but at least she had dodged giving her first kiss away.
Which meant that she still could be able to save it for a special occasion.
She only hoped that someday, she would have it.
///
Present day...
It had been years since, but Gabe remembered that day like it had been yesterday. His puzzlement and curiosity at seeing her kneeling by the árbol navideño with a sack beside her. His inability to hold back his question. Her alarm at his intrusion. His attempts to reassure her, joined by his fear that he was only making her feeling worse. Her own fear that people wouldn’t like the gifts she had picked out for them. And her relief at the fact he hadn’t laughed at her and had respected her wishes for him not to see what she was doing.
In a sense, it had been pointless. Everyone Carla had gotten a gift for had worked out that it came from her, and had taken the time to give her a hug and thank her for it. Of course, that included him, and he had been sincere in his gratitude for the sword care kit she had gotten him. Even today, he still had the box it came in, although the cloth had gotten too stained to use and the products had long since run out.
True, his thanks had come out a bit on the awkward side. Which even then he knew was to be expected, given that they had opened their gifts the day after that year’s Navidad festival, where he and Carla had ended up sharing what they both called ‘their dance’, the one which lead to both of them realizing their feelings for each other. The one that ultimately had been their first step toward this moment.
Yes, the walk had been long, and both of them had stumbled across the way, but they had both managed to get up and keep going forward. And now, years later, they stood outside the very same ballroom where they had taken that first step, now as husband and wife, together on a level they hadn’t been before.
His fond grin melting into a subtler smile, Gabe drew Carla closer and ran his fingertips over her hair. She closed her eyes in pleasure and again rested her head on his chest.
It seemed so surreal now to think there had been a time they had been so afraid of their feelings as to not even talk about them. And that was already discounting the days when they actually had their feelings for each other but were still in denial about them even to themselves. Like the day when they’d had the ‘Navidad-related incident’ both of them had just recalled.
Of course, that had turned out to be for the better. That way, they had been able to share a proper first kiss as a couple, and Carla in particular had been able to have a proper first kiss, period (though he had only learned about that months after the ‘mistletoe incident’).
He supposed it was a good thing neither of them was superstitious. After all, avoiding a kiss under the mistletoe was said by some to bring back luck.
And it was true they had been in some rough spots over the years.
But they had managed to overcome each one. And he knew that together, they could overcome whatever came next.
Still, that was no reason for them not to amuse themselves a bit with their memory of that moment.
On cue with the thought, Carla raised her head from his chest.
“Just what kind of naughty idea came into that mind of yours?” she teased, reaching up her arm to twirl his signature pushed up strangs.
In the early days, there had been a few such occasions where he had wondered if Carla had used her mind-reading power to figure out what he was thinking so quickly. But he had learned to sense when she did so, and he knew that outside of a few emergencies, the one time she had used it was on that time when she wanted to find out his feelings for her. This case was just a sign of how well they had gotten to know each other.
“You know, I’m not sure how that can be, but in all these years, I realize we never got to have that kiss we both dodged.”
Carla hummed mock-pensively, her lips quivering as she fought down a smirk.
“Is that so?...” she drawled. “And what are you going to do about it, Captain?”
Saying so, she again reached up and flicked her fingers through his hair. He raised his eyebrows in mock-pensiveness.
“Well, if we had some mistletoe, I know what I would do, but alas, there isn’t any over here,” he replied. “So it seems we will need to move over to a place where there is some?”
She frowned pensively at his words.
“I think that would give everyone too much of a show. We should find another solution.” Her eyes lit up. “And I know just the one.”
Saying so, she slipped her hand under the top layer of her dress and drew out her tamborita.
“I can just bring some over here.”
“Always prepared, I see,” he teased.
She smirked again, flicking at the handle of the sword at his waist.
“Look who’s talking.”
He had no argument for that. While this sword was slightly shorter and much thinner than the sword he used on everyday duty, and mostly meant for decorative purposes, it was still fairly sharp and would be able to make damage if he used it on someone. He hoped that day wouldn’t come, but too many things over the years had shown it was better to be safe than sorry.
“Llévaluq!” she said as she aimed her tamborita at a spot above the balcony’s door.
Three mistletoe leaves floated from their ties and floated over the balcony toward them, halting at a spot about a foot above Gabe’s head, magic keeping them still despite the breeze that blew around them.
Without any more words, she slipped her tamborita back into its giant custom-made pocket.
Then, she turned upwards to face him, a current of sparks flowing between them as their gazes locked into each other.
Resting his right hand on her jawline and his left one on her shoulder, he leaned down to meet her, as she in turn reached up toward him, both her arms wrapping around her shoulders, her left hand sliding up to rest on his nape.
Then, their lips met, their mouths moving over each other in exactly the same way both of them knew the other liked by now, nipping at the ideal spots, pursing their lips around each other’s with just the right amount of pressure, and moving at the exact pace both of them knew the other like.
His right hand moved from Carla’s jawline and dove into the chocolate-brown waterfall flowing down her back, his fingers and palm resting on her nape as her fingers wrapped around his hair. Somehow, the two of them managed to come even closer together, their kiss so tuned over the years that it seemed more rehearsed than one of Carla’s dance performances, and yet flowing from each other as naturally as breathing.
Neither of them spoke, and neither of them actively tried to convey their thoughts through any other way, but as their kiss lasted on until it seemed to grow eternal, both of them knew the other was thinking exactly the same thing.
That despite however things had started out back when Carla first showed up in Avalor, and however they had turned out by the árbol navideño all those years ago, both of them were glad they had found their way to each other, and thankful to be together.
All around them, lights kept twinkling whether from the stars above or from the various Navidad decorations nearby, neither of them paying much attention as they devoted their focus to the moment they were sharing, and the joy that was being with each other.
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alltimewhat · 5 years
Text
ABCs of Death
Hello!!!!! this is the very first of a series I started about two years ago!! the point of this series was to sort of test my writing abilities by writing a small ficlet with a death corresponding to each letter of the alphabet!! I only made it to H, abandoning H halfway through due to lost inspiration, but I’m gonna post the ones I have!!
This series is heavy on GORE, BLOOD, BODY HORROR, and (quite obviously) DEATH. If any of these topics upset you, please PLEASE be careful when reading or just avoid the series entirely! each one will include the specific warnings applicable to that fic, so please read those beforehand!! 
A/B/C/D/E/F/G
A contains: BLOOD, GORE, BODY HORROR, PARASITES, AND DEATH
CHARACTER(S) THAT DIE IN THIS FIC: will
A is for Alien
“How long do you think it’ll be until we find aliens?” Will’s quiet voice broke through the silence that had fallen over their campground. 
The sky was pitch black overhead, the distant horizon a faint blue. There was no moon, but the stars in the isolated country were brighter than any of them had ever seen, light pollution slowly diminishing in their minds as the milky way scattered herself across the sky. The night air was cold and crisp and there was a bed of newly fallen leaves underneath them, in all shades of yellows and browns and reds. The trees around them weren’t entirely bare, and the leaves they did have rustled softly in the dark. 
“I dunno. I think we’d have to develop, um, our space-travelling technology first, you know?” Mike’s soft voice came a second later. Will could hear the sound of him shifting in his sleeping bag, the low swish of skin against nylon. Will nodded. He knew Mike couldn’t see it, but he was too tired to respond properly. 
“Do you think aliens are really out there?” Lucas’ voice joined them, warm and gentle. He hadn’t moved, not that Will had heard, but his voice was closer than Will remembered. The smaller boy shifted, looking in the general direction Lucas’ voice came from. 
“Space is so big, it’s hard to imagine we’re the only, like, living things hanging around here, though, isn’t it?” Mike’s voice came from Will’s right side. Aside from the debate, Will liked listening to the sounds of his friend’s voices in the dark, where he couldn’t see their faces and their voices seemed so much richer and brighter when that was all he had. Will felt a chill run through him, and he shifted closer to Lucas’ voice.
“That’s true. I think i just need, like, concrete proof to really believe in them though.” Lucas said, close enough to make Will jump. He could barely feel the warmth of his friend’s body, but it was enough for him. He’d been getting cold a lot recently, minus one part in his gut that always seemed warmer than the rest of him. He could feel it now, an odd hot spot in the center of his stomach, a warm little pit in the center of a peach. He didn’t mind it unless it was cold outside, because all the heat in his body seemed to soak into that one spot. A wash of goosebumps ran down his arms, and he shuddered. Mike and Lucas were still debating the existence of aliens on either side of him, their voices a soft murmur above the crickets and leaves making their own noise in the dark. Will squirmed slightly, and he felt Lucas’ arm brush against his shoulder. 
“You okay, Will?” He asked, his fingers wrapping around Will’s shoulder, as if to ground him. Before Will could even speak, Lucas moved, touching more of his skin.
“Jesus! You’re freezing!” Will heard Lucas shift, and then a warm hand pressed against his cheek. Will giggled, pushing at Lucas’ arm.
“I’m fine, I get cold all the time-”
“Will, you’re not just cold, you feel dead. Are you- are you sure you’re not sick?” Lucas asked. Will could hear both Mike and Lucas shifting around him, and he frowned.
“Guys, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine. Just- get back to your debate.” Will flapped his wrist, but a moment later he felt Mike tentatively press a hand to his forehead. Frowning, Will smacked Mike’s arm off, sitting up.
“Seriously! Quit it! There’s nothing wrong with me!” He hissed, keeping his voice quiet so he wouldn’t wake Dustin. He could see the faint outlines of Mike and Lucas in front of him, his eyes beginning to adjust to the dark. 
“Will, your skin is freezing. Maybe we should get Steve-”
“-Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You don’t feel cold at all?-”
“-he might be able to call Hop-”
“-We can get help if you’re sick-”
They spoke over each other, two conversations twining together in a way that made Will’s head hurt.
“Shut UP!!” Will shrieked, squirming in his sleeping bag. He heard Dustin stir across from them, but their three voices were still the only ones in the clearing.
“Will, you can’t just go on ignoring being sick-!” Mike started, but he was cut off as Will smacked at his chest.
“I’m fine, seriously! leave me alone. I can take care of myself.” Will croaked weakly. He was exhausted, and the burst of emotion had distributed the warmth around his body again. He felt a twinge in his stomach, guilt twisting his guts from yelling at Mike and Lucas, who were only trying to help him.
“I’m- I’m sorry, I’m just-” 
“Tired of people freaking out over you?” Lucas offered. Will nodded, sighing. He wasn’t ungrateful for his friends and family, he was just tired of being treated like he was made of thin-spun glass, like any quick movement would shatter him. 
“Okay, well, maybe we could- we should get some sleep. Who knows how- how late it is.” Mike said, and Will could hear him shift back to where he’d been sitting before. He felt a gentle, reassuring hand brush against his shoulder. 
“Yeah. Maybe we should.” Lucas’ voice came a second later. Will curled up in a ball, laying back down and rolling a leaf stem between his fingers. There was the swish of nylon after a moment and suddenly there was warmth beside him, flooding through his body and warming up his fingertips. The warmth made his eyes droop, and he yawned.
“Goodnight, guys.” He whispered, just quiet enough he was the only one to hear, slowly letting himself fall asleep.
Will woke an hour later to a burning pinprick in the center of his abdomen. The outside felt like he was in the middle of a tundra, his fingertips frozen nearly solid despite the mild temperatures of fall. The ball of warmth in his abdomen was beyond scalding hot, and he could feel it moving. It thrashed violently, beginning to crawl up his throat. Choking, Will sat up, coughing up nothing but black spit. He felt the burning entity in his throat thrash again, and sharp pricks began to tear at his stomach. Wheezing, he pulled his shirt up just enough to see where the pain was coming from, fumbling around with hands he could barely feel. He could see the creature, wrapped in a tight coil. Occasionally, the indication of sharp claws or hooks of some kind pressed against his skin, followed by a sharp, burning pain in his abdomen. Shrieking, Will scrambled backwards out of his sleeping bag. 
The creature in his abdomen thrashed again, and Will felt something tear. Hot blood started to drip down along his stomach. A scream was ripped from his throat as the creature continued to burrow out of him. His vision was flickering and his hearing was going in and out, but he thought he could see Mike, Dustin and Lucas moving around. He thought he felt something on his stomach, but he was so numb that he couldn’t feel anything except the burning hot creature continuing to push out of his body. A tiny, clawed arm shot from the injury. Will screamed, somehow able to feel the pain so viscerally despite the numbing iciness that had come over his entire body. He heard the other boys screaming, and he took in a shuddering breath, blinking the spots out of his eyes and forcing himself to look at the monster crawling from his insides.
He wasn’t sure what the thing was, but it looked a bit like a lizard crossed with a worm, with no defined head but clawed limbs. It’s body was soft and made of a slick, strong muscle that flexed as it dragged itself forwards. Keratin hooks shot out of its body in neat rows, blood and tissue caught in a few of them. The creature had no discernable mouth, but it had beady black eyes in pairs that ran down about three inches from the tip of its nose. It made an odd squealing sound, and Will hissed, his strength fading rapidly. He jerkily raised his hand and closed it around the creature’s soft body, his hands numb enough not to feel the hooks as they gouged circular holes in his skin. Blood beaded up and dripped down his hands as he tugged on the creature as hard as he could, screaming at the pain as its massively long, hooked body tore more and more flesh out of his stomach. He tugged despite the other boys screaming at him to stop, pulling the creature out all the way. He stared at it as it shrieked and writhed around, wrapping around his arm and slicing thin lines into the skin. He squeezed as hard as he could, his strength nearly gone. It’s body, similar to an earthworm, gave under his grip until it separated into two pieces. 
Once the creature was ripped in two, Will sighed, dropping the head and dropping to his back. The numbness that had come over him was dulling the burning pain from the creature’s exit wound, but Will could feel his blood, hot and sticky, dripping down his sides in buckets. He heard the boys screaming above him, felt someone’s hands on his stomach and his collar and his face, but he was too tired to listen to them. His eyes fluttered closed, and he let his breathing slow to a stop. An icy numbness rolled through him one last time as his heart gave one final, weak pump.
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