#pretty much just be wary when you reach the white hat section

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

Pirate au part seven segment 3

PLEASE READ before you read

White is not nice that’s not said in a joking way, warning there may be some things you might consider gross that you learn Thaddeus likes to do. So unless you really don’t mind horror or gore even in mention ...I mean it’s probably not that bad but I am gonna panic and at least I have warned you...but uh...if you don’t mind repo the genetic opera you should be fine lol heh heh yeah anyway last part of this segment for now. you have had your warning.

Okay  also so there’s a few suggestive and you sure as hell know what’s happening moments in this one it’s nothing particularly graphic but still hence the reason  it’s mostly under read more and , White hat and Slug finally make an appearance. their names are Thaddeus and Edward.

Now we reach the third part of this seventh segment, if you’re reading this and new to my blog know that I post anything story like at a painfully slow rate, but you are always free to ask questions, old and new followers, just be aware that headcannons and ideas can change at a drop of a hat lol, I’ve mentioned before I’m not the best at continuity and just kinda go with whatever I’m inspired to write at the time. Love to you all <3 

 He knew he shouldn’t, that Acylius would most likely not want him anywhere near him, but Amadeus knew he was the only being alive besides him who suffered at the hands of Thaddeus’s cruelty, who did not revel in it like Edward did. Phasing through the glass he transformed into a mercreature himself, he had two , one was that had a fish tail the other long winding tentacles, dark and shimmering, only glinting with flecks of red in the brilliant light of the sun, here though in this moment he chose his fish tail…he’d hoped throughout his life he’d figure out how to breathe as freely as those who did live beneath the surface, but even Elderichts have something’s they cannot achieve, he could breathe a while but the time was always so limited, at least the surface was close so he didn’t need to panic .

His tail was of a brilliant blood red, marked with black, fins at the front, deep grey, deep grey almost black in the front line center. 

 Hat explained gently, his voice was soft in this moment, he did not want to aggravate him or put him further on edge, he watched as Acylius’s ear fins twitched, while he was not looking at him, it was clear he was at least being listened to, that was reassuring. 

“There were other siblings but he killed them…Emory left before Thaddeus could and I was born later, I have my reasons as to why I managed to stay alive, to why I fought to…but my story is unimportant in this moment…” 

Black Hat moved in closer, his shoulders relaxing as Acylius made no motion to move but stayed in his sand nest he’d made himself to feel comforted, Mew Mew Loaf stayed in the corner, but something told Hat if he so much as considered hurting her friend she’d bite his face off. 

  “He hates us….because he’s jealous….because in our kind the richer the colours, the more status, the more power he had, children in our world are never really children, we are not born to be loved but to survive, I and one other brother survived White…”

“The lighter of our kind are seen as ugly and unwanted, he wouldn’t believe me now even if I told him that things are beginning to change, but despite that, even if he did, I know he enjoys being a monster far too much, I don’t expect you to forgive me but I truly am sorry.”

That tone, did he have to say it like that, in such a predatory manner, eyes so fixed on him that if he so much as flinched Acylius would see it and he was coming in closer, he could easily escape but a part of him wanted to surrender just a little, to see where this was going, if it was of ill intent he could easily escape.

 There was a shift between them and Amadeus noticed that Acylius’s demeanour had grown eerily calm as he moved in closer. “I know you are sorry, and Eldericht pleading forgiveness is practically unheard of…but it does not undo the past, it is the future that needs to be tended to, fixed, altered, and rectified…”

Hat started to move back, his presence seemed to sooth him now as if it stroked the aura that he was constructed from, purring like a dark serpent winding around him, the sensation slithering “Your species have always been so peculiar, those in the beginning unable to see the beauty in the light of pearls and splendor while the darkness moves dying in the shadows cold and alone and look where it has gotten them, in every living species there will always be a shallow nature.”  

Pressing the tip of his claw under Amadeus’s chin, it was sharp enough for a small tendril of blood to make its way out, curling and winding as smoke does, Acylius’s lips parted slightly as it slipped passed them his nostrils flared, the colours on his scales rippling as a wave does across the shore, his eyes closed and a bite of his lip. Hat’s heart was racing, so that’s why Thaddeus so desperately wanted him back, he was right this was a Legion demon, one of the very few beings who could match their power if not surpass it if well fed.

 “In this world, this dimension at the very least I am older than you, but I have met others older than myself in past lives, I have hidden behind my fear, made weak because  I dared to be of noble heart, or as one might call a Hero but I have been neither that nor villain…” He traced lone long claw along Amadeus’s jaw and over his bottom lip

 Thaddeus had been trying to break it’s will so it would tremble and bow before him and if he had succeeded in that…White would have been unstoppable.

Amadeus let out a soft whine, he felt so pathetic, but he’d been aching just to have him this close, and they were close, he could feel the warmth radiating from the demon in front of him and noted the slight twitch at the corner of Acylius’s scarred lips, where old needle marks had been made to sew his mouth shut to make it smaller. “If you devoured me…how strong would…”

 Acylius clasped  his face with one hand making Amadeus purr, his chest vibrating, the grasp was tight enough to have his lips pucker, even this small sign of dominance was doing things to him. “The Ocean itself Amadeus would be a mere puddle.” 

 Fuck, fuck, fuck he felt like prey, a part of him wanted to be devoured, to feel his fangs, his lips upon him, hands clawing down him and to be desired as such, so desperate and hungered for, oh he could relate to the satisfaction of eating a meal like that and after years of abuse at the hands of White…he would offer himself if only to stop Thaddeus. 

“I denied my powers and what fed them, ignored the need of devouring the flesh and soul of another, to consume something that could make me…whole.” 

“Not all Legion s walk on land nor grace the skies, I have no intention of eating you though, I have grown to enjoy your company, but it is a sad thought that constantly haunts me that with just a few men, their lives forfeit to me, could have saved us but things need to end and some worlds are only short lived, fate has its design even if we do not agree with it.”

“Demencia and 505 are off limits every-“ 

“No not them or you…you say Thaddeus has chosen tomorrow, it’s the one day I will have legs, that I am forced to, he has planned it out carefully, I will not be as agile and I will be on deck with you, standing by your side in the day that was made and exists once in the span of four years, the others on this vessel will do just fine.” 

His voice was husky, fingers loosening their grip on Black Hats face, claws now trailing down over his chest, down, down over his tail to rest on his hips

Acylius leaned in , their lips only inches away and Amadeus was watching the beauty of those blue eyes as they swirled in colour between thought and emotion.

“You did not think I had lost the power I gained when you fed me that kill you so willingly offered me…why you practically asked to court me with that meal, how cute.”

 Hat glanced at Mew Mew Loaf the little cat gold fish who feigned innocence after all it was her who’d suggested Hat give him that to eat, he let out a sound of surprise when he felt Acylius tap a claw on his chest and felt his body change back to his bipedal one, did he just really force him to change back !? 

The blood in his body rushed south, he wanted to be pinned by him, to be taken and feel it, that age old hunger that existed even within the oldest of beasts. 

 “Acylius are you sure-�� 

“Well if you’re not in the mood, you’re always free to walk out.” The door to the captains quarters locked so suddenly and with such force that the lock nearly exploded. 

“Hmm I’ll take that as a yes Captain.”

 He purred chuckling softly , tenderly placing kissing along his jaw, teasing his fangs long and sharp over his throat as hands explored him, seeking out every line and inch of him, mapping out his body and adventurer eager to search out the beautiful terrain before him, he’d sensed the moment of Amadeus’s arousal and with how eagerly he reciprocated , between passionate kisses and sweet moans he found himself sinking into something wonderful…something dangerous…and beautiful all at once…

“Hmm I do so much prefer you with legs, yours are so pretty.”

He dare not utter the word though, not the word love into the world where it could crumble and turn to ash , the thing he’d felt when he’d been small and he’d saved Amadeus all those years ago…he just wondered if his pirate king and guessed yet who he was or would ever realise it.

 Mew Mew Loaf was in the corner blushing brightly and buried herself under the sand, she would just let them get on with that, though she might have peeked once or twice giggling, she did find it odd though how the captains hat never came off, oh my there they were going at it again, water splashing over the side of the tank and Hat was far from quiet.

 Yep she was going to her sand nest again, but oh my god finally, Acylius had been pining for weeks, at least he might be a little happier now, he deserved it. 

@villainousqueenofhel​ gave me permission to use her art work <3

White Hat with his Glamour on to his his real face and Edward Slug (design for him may change later never know)

Down below the Ocean’s surface Thaddeus glided through the undiscovered waters of the world with Edward gracing his side, sunbeams breaking through glistening over White’s tail of pearl and sky blue scales with gold translucent fins veil like and swaying with each movement. 

“Sir, do you think the others are starting to suspect something?” 

( I don’t have a voice chosen yet for Edward, so if you have any suggestions I’d love to check them out <3) 

“And what exactly do you think they are starting to expect Slug?” 

(If you wanna know how I hear Thaddeus’s voice, look up V for Vendetta Hugo Weaving) 

“Well people have started to go missing since Acylius disappeared.” 

Edward returned plainly. 

“If they ask my dear sweet Eddie, blame it on their fallen king who oh so willingly greeted me into his kingdom like some naive little child.” 

White smirked, voice sweet but cruel, there was no kindness there.

 Thaddeus had decided he’d journeyed for long enough and wished to rest, they’d reached a clearing of rocks surrounded by lush green plants that danced invitingly, sitting himself down motioned with elegant hands for Slug to sit by his side. 

“Tell me Eddie how beautiful you think I am, you’re the only one I believe amongst those social climbers.”

 He purred claws gently stroking over Edwards chest only to bury them into his flesh as he allowed his glamour to fall away, his perfect face with soft lips disappearing as it was replaced with a maw of fangs that were forever exposed, protruding from his skull, unable to smile or express such little things, only his golden eyes giving away any sign of emotion.

 However Thaddeus cared little for sentiments, he wanted to look soft, to be beautiful and he hated people most of all with all their plump little faces and pouting lips, those fools who would call themselves ugly had no idea that such an ancient beast could envy their flesh, all these beings he was constantly surrounded by with elegant lips he would tear from their faces in the darkest of nights until Edward had come to so lovingly cut them, perfect precision, in the privacy of his room he’d wear them and pretend until they’d rotted away that they were his. 

He pulled Edward forward, oh he could never tear apart his most devout follower, no…he’d thought about it a million times, just killing him like all the others, but Edward’s words were far too genuine and stroked his ego almost as well as those lips of his could suck his cock.

 Hearing his gasp as fingers curled around his throat, squeezing just enough to aggravate the gills on his neck, the ones on Edwards cheeks trying to draw in oxygen, you could see it in Thaddeus’s eyes that he was smiling at the slight sign of struggle, oh he wouldn’t kill him, he was far too fun to dispense of…though if he could get Acylius to be his broken little pet… It wasn’t that he loved Flug, far from it, no what he loved was the idea of having such a powerful being beg and whine, calling him master as it crawled  and allowed itself to be used as he desired. 

“Come now dear Edward, look into these eyes and tell me I am more beauteous than the heavens themselves, these accursed sea water does so dull me without the blood of rich coloured scales to feed on, lie to me.”

 White listened a moment before sighing, rolling his eyes and making a disgruntled sound

 His madness was beginning to show with each word, slamming Slug down onto the rocks under him, his voice slipping into to demonic tones, head tilting, purring contentedly as he felt Edward stroke along his cheek and smile up at him in that tenderly obsessed smile of his.

“You’re more beautiful than the seven Oceans and heavens above my dear, if I were a rich in scales and colour I would offer you my blood, all I can do instead is offer my love.”

 “Yes which is useless but the sentiment is appreciated all the same I suppose.” 

Letting go of him, he rested by his side propping his head up with a hand and looking over him, watching as Eddie touched along his throat, clearly worshiping the touch he’d been given.

 “Why don’t you put that love sick expression somewhere far more useful, use those pretty lips Edward, remind me why I let you keep them hmm.”

 He crooned. 

Tracing a claw along his jaw line, chuckling knowing that Edward would be more than happy to oblige, Slug had been obsessed with him the moment they’d met so why not use him as he saw fit.Tonight they would stay here and then tomorrow he would reclaim that pathetic excuse of a Legion demon.

 End of part seven

[harveywritings92]

The path to Isolation pt.1

-now-

"They sat on and threw trash at me again..." Anri mumbled burying her head into her hands as Mayuki patted her back while texting her other friends. "Like I said before An-Chan. they'll never notice you, if you don't assert yourself!" the raven haired girl let out a frustrated sight "How the hell would I do that, when I've put so much work into..this?" She sighed gesturing to herself as her friend frowned trying to come up with something.

"Stop dressing like a grandma for one, and Lose those dumb glasses, I don't think I ever seen you without them." the blonde hummed reaching for the the round frames, only for Anri lean away just out of her reach, causing the blond to pout.

"Boo! you always do that!" Mayuki whined as Anri readjusted her glasses. "How about I just color my hair or something, then I'll think about it?" the ravenette cringed as her friend let this glass shattering squeal, causing a few students to gawk at them Genji's group included.

The green haired boy brows furrowed bemused trying to piece together what the chick..uh, he banged her once, whats her name?...Mizu..no Erm?? Mayuki! that's it! was saying to Anri, but the bottle blonde was talking a mile a minute and pretty much carried the shorter girl out the door. "W-Wait my bag! Mayu!!!" 

She quickly walked back for her things as The blonde rushed her out "Hurry, Hurry!!" surprising the class that Goose girl was ditching class, with a cheerleader who yelling a about salons and colors? Were they getting their nails done, Was Anri actually into that kind of stuff??

"I always did like the color..." Anri's voice got distant Genji's gaze then shifted to the window along with rest of the class, it faced the back courtyard, a few minutes later he saw Anri and Mayuki sneak out back; via hole in the fence just missing the gym teacher who was out for a midday smoke.

 "Wow..The nerd actually did it." A girl with too much make up on said then turn to her friend. "We can use this! Let's make that nerd do our homework." She suggested a of her friends agreed even throwing in a few ridiculous demands one guy even asked if Anri 'puts out' that caused the girls to laugh before the green haired ninja intervened.

"So, she ditched class once? Whoopee! like we haven't done that before, And you don't see us doing other people work." The makeup girl gaped at Genji like a fish then began to stammer" B..but-" the young Shimada cut her off with sharp look. "Leave it." He said in a deadly tone causing chill to go down the groups spines,they nodded knowing that crossing Genji would be a very unhealthy choice...

on the street with Anri and Mayu!

"So, where do we star?" Mayuki asked Anri who smiled at her friends energy, then noticed something in peripherals thinking fast, the twin braided girl grabbed her blond friend and ducked behind a dumpster, just as a patrol car drove by.

 "Well, first let's change our clothes, we stand out like sore thumbs" the honey eyed girl suggested knowing they probably get away better with without looking like a couple of escaped high school schoolgirls, they walked for a few blocks before Anri pointed at a thrift-store across the street.

Causing Mayuki to sweat dropped she's never been in a thrift-store before...and was little wary, [Yes she's from a well off family.] She changed her mind once she found a cute black sleeveless top with a black skirt with a pink floral pattern, that she just had to have. 

she changed into those and waited for Anri to come out of the changing room, when she emerged the ravenette was wearing a brown turtle neck under a dip dye sundress that started out white then faded into a pretty leaf green and little grey paper boy's cap.

"Oh you look cute Mayu!" The blond smiled at her friend about to say the same thing but felt something was missing, spying an orange belt Mayuki grabbed it and put it around Anri's waist surprised at how thin the short girl actually was, the ravenette always wore baggy cardigans and slouched a lot walked or sat down it gave everyone the impression that Anri was pudgy! "And now you look like a girl!" the blond chirped as the her honey eyed friend went to pay.

It's a good thing Mayuki was distracted by some of the old toys lining the shop walls, otherwise Anri would have a tough time explaining why her debit-card said: Shimada Anri instead of Townsend. Only Takumi knows about her relationship with the Shimada clan; Mayuki and Mikoto think she's working for them as maid that why she and Genji know each other. 

The clerk thanked them for their patronage and the two girls went on with their ditch day, stopping at a restaurant that Mayuki's family owned it took a moment for the hostess to recognize the bottle blonde "Oh miss Sonohara, Table for you and your friend?" the old woman asked leading Anri and Mayuki to the VIP section they were seated in a small booth they ordered some drinks and got down to what Anri was looking for style wise?

"I was thinking red,maybe? nothing too flashy to get get me into trou-" The ravenette was interrupted by someone tapping her shoulder both teens looked up and saw annoyed ginger haired woman around college age wearing very provocatively short purple dress standing behind them. Anri squirmed in her seat knowing exactly what was coming. 

"Why hasn't Genjikins been returning my calls." She whined close to stomping her foot the short girl cringed as Mayuki mouthed out "Genjikins?!" in disbelief and snorted as the ginger waited for Anri tell her why Genjikins has been avoiding her. The ravenette though for a second and looked the annoyed woman. 

"Ever hear the saying; A critic never pays to eat the same meal twice?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"What I'm saying Ko-ne-ko~...Is that your Genjikins menu isn't just exclusive to yours...he likes to eat around." Anri's voice dropped to a sultry tone as she watched the woman face drop in recognition after all Anri just called her: Koneko. That was the pet name Ginger's darling Genjikins called her by, and no else! 

There's no way her handsome Genjikins was playing around! this little brat was just jealous of their love! Ginger's mind tried reasoned "You're lying! you don't know him you don't know us!" the ginger haired woman hissed as her face was turning a lovely shade of purple almost matching her dress.

Anri feigned innocence, the honey eyed girl pulled her glasses down a tick and winked as she gently took the distraught woman's hand in hers and smirked up at her flirtatiously.

"Why so mad Koneko?~ Oh, I get it...you don't like that name anymore? Well the how about my Dove, Angel or princess,... my dawn?" The ravenette purred before kissing the girl's hand mimicking how Genji would do it, the girl recoiled in disgust than ran off in tears. "Well at least this one didn't slap me." Anri said apathetically recalling the last couple girls who came around asking about Genji.

Mayuki cocked a brow at her; Damn this shorty can one mean Mama Trucker, She then noticed how quiet the ravenette had gotten. Anri seemed to be in pretty deep thought...she almost looked lonely. 

"Genjikins, She seriously called him Genjikins?" Mayuki snickered breaking the tense silence between them as Anri snorted "I've heard worst, trust me!" the bespectacled girl giggled before returning to their original conversation, After lunch they set up an appointment at the hair salon just down the block from the restaurant.

They got there and the stylist was a bit hesitant on touching Anri's hair because it was so pretty and well taken care of. he had to ask her several times if she was sure about him taking her hair's virginity, Anri although a bit creeped out by the guys question was totally fine with it, after she pick out a color called chocolate cosmos. the stylist got to work...

it was almost dark by the time he was done, Anri had her newly dyed hair up in a bun and stuffed under her hat for safe keeping as she walked Mayuki home. "Are you sure you don't want to sleepover? My parents wouldn't mind." The bottle blond said as they split a Popsicle on the way. 

the former ravenette shook her head; she was pushing it today by skipping school; Hanzo was surly having an aneurysm wondering where she was; her bodyguards were probably out looking for her right now. "Maybe next weekend, I think I'll be grounded for next three days but it was worth it," Anri said awkwardly while rubbing the back of her head, she bid farewell to her friend began the trek home...

Then Anri stopped in her tracks and calmly took off her glasses off almost as if she were cleaning them, not noticing the man behind her ready to grab-. "Y'know..." the man retracted his hand and stood still in the shadows as Anri continued taking "..stalking is a very complicated affair..." She hummed calmly as she tucked her glasses away. "You watch and learn thinking it'll be easy once they're alone."

The former ravenette began to walk again; leading the man deeper into an alley." And just when you think have your target... " She slipped into the shadows that led to dead end the man had a baton ready he reeled it back ready to swing as he rounded the corner only to find...Nothing? but he saw her come this way!

a cold sweat formed on the mans brow as he felt presence behind him. " You find out your target had you from the start.~"  The man could only gasp in horror a hand covered his mouth, Needless to say the police were confused when they received a call about a pervert terrorizing a high school girl! only to find said pervert in his underwear hogtied with his own rope with a baton sticking out of his ass.

Anri resisted the urge to laugh as she got home to find Hanzo sitting on the front steps and he looked livid. "And just were where you today?" the elder Shimada brother demanded as the bespectacled girl shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. 

"O-Out with a friend?" She stammered as his brown eyes narrowed at her. "Oh, and was time with this friend more important then school?" He hissed Anri swore she saw a flash blue in his eyes as Hazo held back his wrath. "Honestly, I expected better from you Anri." and with that Hanzo went to train leaving the girl to wallow in her now soured mood.

"Now I wish I hadn't gone easy on that creep..." She mumbled taking her shoes off mentally picturing herself beating snot out of the perv. "What creep?" She jumped hearing Genji's voice glanced around before looking up and finding him hiding out in the rafters, staring down at her curiously. "A pervert tried grabbing me on way home I-" the green haired boy suddenly bristled he jumped from rafters and landed in front of her with a heated looked "Why didn't you say anything when Hanzo was yelling at you?!" Genji hissed as Anri dismissed his anger.

"It wasn't a big deal I handled it." Genji's eyes seemed flashed green the bespectacled girl jumped when he punched the wall just above her head the sound seemed to echo through the halls as Genji glowered at the short girl.

 "Not a big deal..." He snarled grabbing her front of her shirt, Anri looked at him in fear before Genji caught himself and pulled away from her; a pregnant silence filled the entryway, the frontdoors suddenly looked interesting to stare at, he glanced back at Anri and saw her hands were shaking...

All because he couldn't keep his stupid instincts in check. "Did he touch you?" He asked hoarsely before biting the inside of his cheek as tiny voice managed to stammer out.

 "n..no." 

Genji's shoulders relaxed a he let out breath he hadn't realized he was holding as he heard Anri's footsteps hurry away, leaving him alone. "Dammit, I screwed up again." he berated himself before he heard Hanzo yelling for him from the training room, At least he'll have something to take his anger out on...   

[beckytailweaver]

[FIC] Coco - What the Xolo Dragged In  (Part 7)

Before anybody wonders, remember that in another lifeline, Héctor Rivera had the moxie to punch Pepita in the nose when he thought she was after his chamaco.  This is not a cowardly man, for all that he graciously yields to more forceful personalities...most of the time.

Coco - What the Xolo Dragged In

Part 7 - Break

These days, Héctor always felt terribly out of place up in the nicer sections of the city.  Everything was clean, clearly lit, and brightly painted, pretty as a picture in the mid-morning sunlight.  The skeletons walking to and fro about their business were well-dressed and had the white, sturdy bones of the Remembered.  The stares and whispers, however—disdainful and sometimes horrified, unlike the mere curiosity of his Shantytown peers—made him glad he’d kept to the side streets and alleys, acutely conscious of his awkward gait, ragged clothes, and chipped, weathered bones.

The Forgotten were memorable when they appeared outside their dank domain below—as memorable as a leper at a gala ball, and just about as welcome.  It was always the same; the constant prickle of open stares, or the cold shoulder of being deliberately ignored.

At least if they were staring at him, they were less likely to notice the little shadow he led along by the hand, or at least more likely to pass it off as a Forgotten child—something they wanted to acknowledge even less.

Miguel was doing a good job of keeping up, uncomplaining, though his small head swiveled this way and that the whole trip, in awe of the bright maze that was the massive city of the dead and its inhabitants (they’d taken care of Miguel’s business in a dark corner just outside of Shantytown, where hopefully no one would really notice one more puddle on the damp pyramid stones).  The boy was probably getting tired from the very long walk, but he gamely kept going; he had a lot of questions, but was mostly distracted by anything resembling music.  Every time they passed another source of song, the child locked on to it like a pointer dog until they passed out of earshot or another one appeared.

Soon enough, the instances of music thinned and vanished as they walked, driven away by the austere silence of the forbidden zone surrounding the quiet street Héctor knew far too well.  The sense of impending doom curled his shoulders more with every step; he was walking into the jaguar’s den and he knew it, but a little stomach growled audibly at his side like a tiny angry alebrije and he continued putting one foot in front of the other.

If he kept thinking about Miguel, he wouldn’t think about the anger and rejection that awaited him.  Miguel was love and warmth and a ready smile and a cheerful voice that danced like happy guitar music and hugs that felt like home.

With every step he took, he grew closer to losing that joy forever.

But Miguel needed food and care and everything Héctor couldn’t provide, and that was far more important than his own wants.

Almost before he knew it (before he wanted it), they were in front of the familiar gate, overshadowed by the large sign shaped like a shoe.  The high wall was brightly painted; the house beyond it was even taller, built upward to contain the family like all structures in the Land of the Dead.  It was quiet within, the courtyard shaded from the sun by colorful sheets of fabric tied up in gentle swoops.

“Papá Héctor,” Miguel whispered, staying close to his side, “this looks kinda like my house.  See?  There’s the same sign.”

“That’s because it kind of is your house,” Héctor said softly, forcing the sadness out of his tone.  “Or it will be your house, someday.  It’s your family’s house, where everyone lives when they’re not visiting your ofrenda.”

“Oh.”  Miguel looked up at the gate a moment longer.  “They have breakfast here?”

Dios mío, I hope so!

“Let’s go find out.”  Carefully, Héctor pushed the gate further open and led the boy into the courtyard.  Up this high, the ground was wood and brick rather than stone, the yard tastefully decorated with art and sculpture here and there to give the look of plants and shrubs.  There was even a small fountain that bubbled pleasantly, which small bird-shaped alebrijes might use as a bath.

Héctor took deep breaths to steady himself as he approached the front door, not out of any need for air but only old habit.  If he let his hands shake, Miguel would notice, and the poor kid didn’t need anything more to worry about.  Standing on the mat, he took one last glance down at his grandson and winced; hair sticking out around the oversized hat, face smudged with grime from the back streets, covered in a tattered, filthy poncho, the boy looked like a complete ragamuffin.

...whoops. Not gonna win me any points...but I’m already in the record-setting negatives anyway.

Héctor raised a fist and knocked timidly.  He couldn’t exactly hope that no one was at home, but maybe Imelda would be out and he could speak to someone else—

A roar resounded through the courtyard and sent Miguel crowding against his legs with a frightened squeak.

Oh no.

Imelda’s huge, terrifying alebrije rose from a sunny spot on the outbuilding roof across the courtyard, wings casting a deep shadow as the massive feline leaped effortlessly to the ground.  The growl the creature emitted shook the courtyard floor as it advanced.  Pepita knew Héctor on sight and, after this many years, knew that her mistress didn’t want him around.

And yet, Miguel’s fearful whimper seemed to drown out all of the oncoming alebrije’s noise.

“Hey!”  Hyper-aware of the tiny hands clinging to his trouser leg, Héctor pointed a finger at the big cat’s nose, marveling somewhere in the back of his mind that his hands still weren’t shaking.  “Back off!  I’m here on business, and you’re scaring the kid!”

Pepita snarled but stood still, as if momentarily baffled by his defiance.  One swat from her paw could scatter him all over the courtyard like an upended bundle of sticks, and she’d never been shy about showing her displeasure.  Before she could respond, however, a small brightly-colored bundle of excitement bounced up to her feet, yapping loudly and tail wagging in a blur.  Apparently stymied by this enthusiasm, Pepita stared down at the Xolo-alebrije-pup that threw itself to the ground in front of her and wriggled endearingly as if ecstatic to see her.

With the fearsome alebrije thus distracted (perhaps she wasn’t sure if she should eat it or play with it), Héctor kept Miguel close to him and edged away from the hazard.  The only thing worse now would be—

Just behind him, the door swung open sharply.  “—is going on, upsetting my alebrije and—you.”

Imelda’s voice, quick to bare fangs of spite, bit into him with all the pain and force he remembered from the last time he’d darkened her doorstep—and the time before that, and the time before that...

Dios, dame fuerza.

Héctor closed his eyes, gave himself one moment to gather all his strength, and turned to her with the most neutral, earnest expression he could manage.  Now was not the time for smarmy grins, romantic flourishes, or exaggerated pleas.  “Imelda, buenos días.  I—”

“Get out!  Pendejo músico!” she snarled, her face twisting with rage.  “If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times, never come back here!”

“I’ll go, just give me a moment to—!”

“I gave you my heart!  I gave you years of my life!”  She had her boot in her hand in the blink of an eye, advancing on him as threateningly as her alebrije had.  “You spat on it all and threw it away!  I will give you nothing more!”

Already he was backing away from her wrath, ducking her swing.  “Imelda, listen—!”

“Cállate!  I told you to get out!  Out!  Never show your face here again!”

When he dodged back again, his leg bumped against solid warmth.  Miguel was still there, cowering from the huge angry alebrije and the shouting adults with a child’s innocent confusion, and Héctor was his only shelter from all that was frightening and unfamiliar.

Imelda had a right to her anger, but this was a separate issue.

Enough.  Enough.  This is not helping Miguel!

If he stepped back even once more, they’d be fighting on top of their great-great-grandson (a young child should never be subjected to their parents’ conflicts).  Héctor straightened his spine as Imelda swung again.  Instead of giving ground, he raised his right arm to block the blow.

Her boot slammed into his radius, snapping the brittle bone with a crack that seemed like a gunshot in the closed courtyard, thudding into his ulna with bruising force.  He grit his teeth against the lightning agony that rocketed up his arm, the pain turning his voice sharp.

“Will you stop shouting and listen to me for one God-blessed minute?”

For a moment Imelda stood blinking at him, startled as much by the fact she’d actually connected as with his tone.

“This is important.”  He lowered his arm, pushing her shoe away; urgency made him force the pain to the background, though he didn’t dare try to move any of the fingers of his right hand.  “Miguel is here.”

“What?”  Her jaw went slack.  “You mean—my Miguelito?  But...I-I should’ve been notified—!”

“He’s not dead,” Héctor reassured her quickly, reaching back with his good arm to nudge the child forward.  He reclaimed his fraying hat, removing the haphazard disguise on the boy.  “He didn’t come in through Arrivals.”

Stunned, Imelda stared down at the living child on her doorstep.  Wary of her, Miguel kept a grip on Héctor’s trouser leg as if expecting him to disappear.

“He showed up last night near—near my place,” Héctor went on, “and...I thought it best if I brought him to you.”

“Last night?” Imelda snapped, her ire quickly returning.  “He’s been here since last night and you didn’t—?”

“He didn’t recognize me.”  Héctor tried not to bite out the words, tried not to sound the slightest bit accusing, the pain in his arm already sharpening his tone.  “And I didn’t know who he was at first.  And he was soaking wet—I wasn’t going to run him across town like that in the middle of the night!”

Imelda’s scowl deepened along with her glare.  “Explain.  Now.”

“He came from the Waters.”  Héctor kept his good hand on Miguel’s hair, trying to reassure the boy as he spoke quickly.  “Something about a ghost trying to grab him—maybe La Llorona?—and this alebrije puppy rescued him from it, but somehow he got from the river in Santa Cecilia to...here.”

Imelda spared a quick glance at Dante, where the pup was bouncing happily around Pepita’s paws as if trying to reach the big cat’s face to lick it.

“Alebrije can’t carry anything across the Veil,” she stated skeptically.  “If they could, people would have been sending letters and packages back and forth every day instead of only on Día de Muertos.”

“I don’t know how.”  Héctor shrugged, and immediately regretted it when the movement jostled his fractured arm.  Wincing, he hissed through his teeth and pressed on.  “I found my living grandson washed up from the Waters with this alebrije that used to be his pet, and he doesn’t understand what happened either, only that he heard a scary sound, fell in the river, and saw something that looked like a ghost before his dog pulled him under and he woke up here!  And now he’s got to get back to the land of the living, he’s hungry, and I don’t have any way to help him!”

“Another inconvenience you’re so eager to leave behind,” Imelda sniffed, folding her arms.

Struck, Héctor found himself glaring back at her for several beats, wondering if she’d actually heard any of the words he’d said.  He had to tighten his jaw to keep from retorting something about how she’d wanted him to bring the boy sooner.  His worry over Miguel had apparently short-circuited his usual guilt and passivity in her presence, but if he fought with her they’d get nowhere; Imelda never backed down from a fight, and the quickest way to defuse her was to avoid locking horns.

“I have nothing,” he said, as flatly as he could manage.  “I have no food for him, and my house is not fit for children.  You can provide for him better than I can.  You can make sure the Department does everything possible to return him to the living world.  This isn’t about me—this isn’t even about us.  Miguel takes priority, and I can’t help him.”

She studied him for long moments before finally rolling her eyes and looking away.  “Fine.  You’ve done your good deed.  Of course I’ll take care of him.  Now get out.”

“Gracias, Imelda.”  With only one arm, Héctor tried to push the boy toward her, but Miguel wouldn’t let go of him.  “Miguel...mijo, you’re gonna stay with Imelda now, alright?  She’ll get you some breakfast.”

“No...Papá Héctor, I wanna go with you!”  Miguel resisted the soft pressure, balking more when Imelda reached for him.  “I don’t want to stay here!”

“Easy now—I got it.  Hey, hey, Miguel,” Héctor said gently, kneeling to look the child in the eyes, “this is your Mamá Imelda.  You know her, right?”

“She’s on top of the ofrenda,” the boy said after a moment, guarded.  “Mamá Coco’s mamá.  She made shoes first.”

“That’s right.”  Héctor smiled encouragingly.  “Mamá Imelda has room for you, and food too.  That’s why you need to stay here.”

“But...”  Miguel cast a wary, suspicious look up at the stern woman, keeping a tight hold on Héctor’s left arm bones.  “She’s the one who said no music.  She’ll hate me.”

“No way!  Mamá Imelda loves you.  She takes care of your family that lives here, just like your Abuelita takes care of your family where you live.  You’re much more important than music, mijo.  You need to stay where it’s safer for you.”  Héctor didn’t let his smile waver, cajoling and positive.  “You’ll feel better when you get some food, okay?  Your family here will be so happy to see you!  And then Mamá Imelda will help you go home to your mamá and papá.  You’ll be fine.”

“Well...okay...”  Very reluctantly, Miguel let go of Héctor’s good arm.  He didn’t look pleased, but at least he wasn’t digging in his heels.

“Come along, Miguel.”  Imelda held out her hand, her voice firm but not cold.

The boy glanced at her outstretched hand, then at Héctor.  “When are you coming back?”

I’m not.  I’m sorry.

“Imelda’s gonna take care of you now.”  The tears he held back burned as his good hand cupped his grandson’s cheek, cherishing the warmth he would never touch again.  Leaning close, he kissed the boy’s forehead, lingering to murmur, “Be good, Miguel.  I love you.”

Please don’t forget how much I love you.

As Héctor rose and stepped back, holding himself rigid, Imelda caught Miguel’s arm when the boy reached for him again.  She still glared at him, but there was something off in her gaze that he couldn’t process; all his strength was taken by staying upright and polite.  There wasn’t time or space for one more hug, one more goodbye, one more anything—he would always want one more, and another, and another...

One more chance.  Please, just...

If he started he’d never stop.  He had to hold himself up in spite of his broken heart breaking all over again, in spite of the jagged pain in his cracked arm.  As if it wasn’t his family he was walking away from once more; as if it wasn’t the only kin who’d shown him any affection in almost a century he was leaving behind, never to see again.

I can’t...

I have to.

He’d told her he would leave as soon as he’d explained.  His face a mask, he cleared his throat and tipped his hat to the lady as if she was a stranger he’d bumped into in the marketplace.  “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Señora.  Good day.”

She started and looked as if she wanted to say something, but he turned away too quickly.  He was already at the edge of his tolerances, and if he lingered now he’d collapse.  He could only try to ignore the sounds behind him—the scuffling of little feet, the click and rattle of a door opening.

“Papá Héctor’s gonna come back, right?  M-Mamá Imelda?  He’s gonna come back?  After breakfast?”

“Of course not.”  Imelda’s voice, gentler with a child but still displeased.  “That músico is not welcome here.”

“B-but, he’s—!”

“Miguel, behave and come inside.  We need to get you home.”

“No...no, Papá Héctor, please!”

I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I can’t help you.

Héctor kept walking, telling himself he couldn’t hear anything behind him, not the upset little boy or the irritated woman or the confused whines of the alebrije-dog.  Everyone here hated him, but Miguel didn’t want him to leave, and that was almost enough to break him.

My boy.  I love you.  Go home.  Live.

Closing the courtyard gate behind him helped drown out some of the noise, but it didn’t really stop until Imelda managed to get Miguel inside and shut the door.  Then he was walking through the quiet of an ordinary neighborhood in the late morning, with no living child at his side (no small warm hand in his, no sweet musical giggles, no curious little voice asking so many questions) as if once more it had all been a dream, as if it had never happened at all.

Every step he took carried him further away from the last scrap of love in his existence.  If by some astronomically slim chance he lasted long enough to see Miguel again, his grandson would be grown, old enough to understand the truth, and turned against him by the stories of their family.  The little chamaco who looked at him with love and adoration would never do so again.

But Miguel would live.  And that was all that mattered.

Héctor kept putting one limping foot in front of the other, his only company the broken-glass ache of his fractured arm.  He didn’t care where he was going, just away, and his feet carried him along aimlessly until he found himself all the way back where he’d started, just outside of Shantytown.  Old, old habit had led him back home.

Beyond the gate there was music and joking and raucous teasing shouts.  Everyone within sounded far too happy in the afternoon lull.  Like they hadn’t had their fondest wishes offered to them on a silver platter and had to let the gift slip through their fingers.

It wasn’t fair of him to be bitter.  He should not begrudge his Shantytown Family any happiness they could find.  They hadn’t had the privilege of a surprise living family visit, not even through an ofrenda.  He’d had an opportunity few of them could even dream of, and he should be grateful for the time he’d had.

It was his own fault.  He’d known Miguel for less than a day, and sending his grandson away was almost like leaving Coco behind all over again.  He got attached far too easily, even when he knew he shouldn’t.  He knew it only caused pain, missing what he couldn’t have, and he already had enough to miss just trying to see his daughter again.

His heart disagreed with his head.  His heart said that Miguel was his grandson and he had every right to miss him, even if he’d only known him for a few hours.  His heart wanted to rush back to his family’s home and beg for one more chance, even if pleading had never worked before.  His heart knew that he loved that beautiful little boy helplessly, instantly, eternally, just like he loved his wife, his daughter, and all of his faceless grandchildren no matter how far apart they were.

Héctor couldn’t stand the thought of returning to his cold, empty hut without the music of Miguel’s voice to fill it.  He had no strength left to don his careless grin for the sake of his fellow Nearly-Forgotten.  He turned away from the merry voices of his Shantytown Family (their laughter he couldn’t join and their questions he didn’t want to answer) and his feet took him onward to the shadowed place at the edge of the misty Waters where he’d first found Miguel.

There he slumped like a forgotten marionette, with his broken arm and his broken heart, silent tears rolling down his cheekbones.  In over a hundred years of existence, he’d never learned to stop longing for things he couldn’t have, and all he could think about was the precious boy just beyond his grasp and the beloved daughter whose whole life he’d missed.

He didn’t move from that spot until Chicharrón found him, hours or days or eternities later.

(tbc)

How can I not love you? What do I tell my heart? When do I not want you Here in my arms? How does one waltz away From all of the memories? How do I not miss you When you are gone?

How can I not love you When you are gone?

— Joy Enriquez, “How Can I Not Love You” (Anna and the King)

I know it’s a romantic song, but it has the right sentiment.

Partial inspiration for the bone break comes from @im-fairly-whitty and This Post.  (I hope you don’t mind, Wit!  I thought “Hey wouldn’t this be dramatic?” and then remembered “Didn’t someone already do this?“)

Imelda didn’t give Miguel the best of first impressions in the film canon, either. (He tried to escape her then, too.)

This chapter was just plain hard to write.

[hoodhollow]

It’ll nearly be like a picture print

Rating: G

Characters/Ships: Cupid, Briar, Hopper, background Ashlynn/Hunter, background Apple/Raven if you squint

Summary: The three of them were getting pretty good at throwing parties for heretofore-unheard-of holidays.

Notes: Gift for @jolie-poupee-en-rose​ in the Ever After High Holiday Exchange! Title from “Sleigh Ride.”

It was December 24th and the Royal Common Room was royally decked out. Boughs of holly lined the windowsills, and evergreen garlands were wrapped around the stair railings. Each of the living tree pillars had been draped in tiny multicolored lights and hung with round baubles of red, green, and gold.

“So we’re not celebrating the winter solstice?” Cupid asked. She had an armful of reindeer figurines and instructions to place them strategically around the room.

“No, it’s a Christmas party,” Briar said.

“What’s Christmas?”

“It’s a holiday I found in the forbidden book section of the library,” Briar explained, weaving red, star-shaped flowers into a pine wreath. “I’m not sure where it came from, but I guess it’s all about feasting and joy and spending time with your friends and family, so I figured, why not?”

“Why not indeed,” Cupid agreed. “And these are all traditional Christmas decorations?”

“Yep,” said Briar.

Cupid inspected the last figurine. “Why does this one have a red nose?”

“I dunno, the book didn’t say,” Briar shrugged. “Maybe he has a cold?”

Cupid laughed, and set the red-nosed reindeer on the table in front of the fireplace. “Maybe this will warm him up a bit. I’ll get some matches for the hearth.”

“Wait, we can’t light the fireplace yet,” Briar said, “that’s where Santa Claus is coming in.”

“What?!” Cupid said, alarmed.

“Supposedly, he slides down the chimney in the middle of the night to leave gifts in exchange for milk and cookies,” Briar said. “I’m going to stay up to try to catch him in the act.”

Cupid blinked slowly. Back home, a lit hearth was essential to any celebration of family. But, as they said, when in Ever After… “Well, alright then.”

The double doors opened and Hopper staggered in, carefully balancing a tower of white pastry boxes.

“I’ve got the log cakes and the snowflake cookies,” he said. “Can, uh, someone help me unload them?”

Cupid took half of the stack, and Briar began making room at the refreshment table. It was already loaded down with food and drink, from fruit cake to striped peppermint candy to carafes of eggnog, cider, and hot chocolate, warmed over dragonfire coals. A basket of oranges sat at one end of the table.

“Perfect,” Briar said, once everything had been rearranged to her satisfaction. She glanced around the room. “Can you guys think of anything we’re missing?”

“Hm,” Cupid said thoughtfully. “Music?”

“I made a playlist,” Briar said. “Figured we’d go low-key instead of booking someone to perform, and it’ll be easier for the activities later.”

“Uh, we should probably, explain the holiday to everyone, and maybe warn them about the mistletoe thing,” Hopper said, casting a wary look to the corner. “I could write something up, if you’d lend me that book, Briar?”

“Sure thing,” Briar said. “So now that that’s settled…” She grinned, wrapping one arm around Cupid’s elbow and slinging the other over Hopper’s shoulders. “Let’s talk dress code.”

In The End, the holidaywear was not as odd as Cupid had anticipated. She had been provided with a pair of antlers on a headband. Hopper sported pointy ears under a green hat, and Briar herself wore a short red stocking cap with a white puffball attached to the point. Being Briar, she managed to make it a trend. When the other partygoers arrived, many of them were convinced to don silly headgear and festive sweaters as well.

Hopper, practicing his public speaking, gave the speech about Christmas and its traditions. As soon as he finished (in human shape—he really was getting better), the mistletoe corner was surrounded by a hopeful ring of boys and girls. They sighed quietly and batted their eyes at Daring or Darling, trying to attract the attention of one of the two most charming students in the school. Cupid thought she probably should have expected that. There would be no spontaneous kisses under the mistletoe tonight. Unless you were very, very oblivious.

Still, there were plenty of other things to enjoy at the party. Cedar and Lizzie were making tree ornaments, and Kitty watched over their shoulders while pretending to nap. Hunter and Ashlynn were bickering playfully as they put together a gingerbread house.

“You don’t think a one-bedroom cottage would be enough?” Hunter grinned. “I could build a really big shoe closet.”

Ashlynn lightly swatted his arm. “Kids, Hunter, where would the kids sleep?”

Hunter’s eyes went soft and bright. “Oh yeah. Okay, I’m liking this mansion idea more and more.” He reached for a few more pieces of gingerbread.

They were so adorable! Cupid couldn’t control the grin that spread across her face, though she did manage to hold in the squeal of delight.

Hopper was manning the refreshments table. Briar was refereeing a wrap battle. Cupid grabbed some hot chocolate and went to join in. She dared say the three of them were getting pretty good at throwing parties for heretofore-unheard-of holidays.

A few hours later, when the high-energy festivities had settled into something a little cozier, Briar paused the music and climbed onto a chair.

“Hey everyone,” she called, and the room quieted. “Caroling is going to start soon! If you want to go along, get the songs from Melody, and make sure to dress warm! It’s definitely getting chilly out there.”

A few of the carolers were already trying out the first song, which was upbeat and cheerful with lots of sleigh bells and ring-ting-tingling. As the traffic shifted, Cupid saw that the mistletoe corner was empty for the first time all night. She wondered if the hopefuls had given up, but then realized that the mistletoe was missing entirely.

She searched for the little leafy bundle, and saw it floating next to a mischievous smile. Just barely below it and backing hastily away were Apple and Raven, both looking as red as a reindeer’s nose.

“—a valuable multicultural experience!” Kitty’s voice said teasingly. “You don’t want to disrespect someone else’s traditions, do you?”

“Kitty, no!” Cupid immediately darted after her. “That’s not what the mistletoe is for!”

“Hey, it’s all in the holiday spirit!” Kitty reappeared directly above the pair, still grinning. “You know you want to…”

Raven rolled her eyes, then leaned in and kissed Apple’s cheek. “There, satisfied?” she demanded, face flushed.

“Boo, hiss,” Kitty said, but relinquished the plant. Apple and Raven hustled away and ducked into the crowd gathering around Melody.

With most of the students out caroling, the party began to wind down. A few of the stragglers were sent out with the remaining food—not that there was much left. Cupid made a mental note to compliment Ginger later. She gathered the platters for the cleaning fairies, thanking Hopper when he arrived to help.

“I think that’s probably about it for cleanup,” he said. He was still wearing the pointy-eared hat. “Have you seen Briar?”

Come to think of it, she hadn’t. “Did she go with the carolers?” Cupid asked.

“She might have,” Hopper said. He started for the door, then stopped abruptly. “No, wait, I found her,” he said, voice soft. Cupid quietly joined him.

Briar was asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace, head pillowed on a pile of Christmas sweaters. A plate of the beautifully decorated snowflake cookies had been placed on the table with a glass of milk. Next to them was a card proclaiming both to be “For Santa.”

“Do you think Santa Claus will actually come?” Cupid whispered to Hopper.

“Uh, well, I thought he was sort of fictional,” Hopper whispered back. “But I guess it’s possible…and it couldn’t really hurt to wait for him, could it?”

“Just in case,” Cupid agreed. “We’ll wake Briar up if he shows.”

She took a nearby armchair and Hopper sat down on the plush rug, legs crossed. With lights twinkling in the trees above and snow drifting down outside the dark windows, they settled in to wait out the night.