#switched to english to pull bad aside and question him directly

[kadextra]

OHHHH Q!QUACKITY IS PRESSING BAD ON WHY HIS FACE IS BLUE

[ladykatakuri]

She is his treasure, part 1

Crosshair ( The Bad Batch ) x F Reader

Rating: General

Warnings: Not really, it is mostly self indulgent fluff, especially since E8. 

Summary: When Omega told him that, his head seemed to split open and the biggest of headaches ran him over like a speederbike. For the first time since he was ordered to tie up all loose ends, he was in serious doubt and he doubted the order given to him. It was as if some switch in his mind was pulled and the duplicity of all that happened came rushing into his mind, all at once.

https://ladykatakuri.tumblr.com/post/655438717332455424/she-is-his-treasure-part-2

https://ladykatakuri.tumblr.com/post/656332331678892032/she-is-his-treasure-part-3

Crosshair never was much of the emotions. He was a soldier and a good soldier follows orders. After his inhibitor chip was enhanced, he did exactly that, following orders, to a tee. He even turned against his brothers from Clone Force 99, better known as the Bad Batch. Clones with a defect, or more humane clones as his brothers might have considered themselves. Now, Crosshair was once more just a soldier for the Empire. But the last message he received had him torn to his core.

It was three days ago he received that coded transmission and it was a good thing he took it in private. Omega had contacted him which was already surprising to him, after all he had expected it to be one of his brothers to contact him in a gamble to reach the old him. But what Omega had to tell him….. Well, this was completely unexpected.

When he was ordered to hunt  the rest of CF99, he had no doubts and used all of their old contacts to track them down. Though the Empire was only interested in his brethren and Omega, he had an extra incentive to find them fast now. She was with them when they deserted and she was his reason now to find them all even faster.

“I think you should know, she is pregnant.” When Omega told him that, his head seemed to split open and the biggest of headaches ran him over like a speederbike. For the first time since he was ordered to tie up all loose ends, he was in serious doubt and he doubted the order given to him. It was as if some switch in his mind was pulled and the duplicity of all that happened came rushing into his mind, all at once.

All he could think of now was to find her. Her and their unborn child.  “Our child….. “ Something seemed to tug at his heart and he had no idea what to do with it. The headache was still there in the background, but to him it was just an inconvenience. Fully geared up he was about to depart from the freighter when one of the troopers approached him. “Are you sure you should go at this alone sir? If they are here, you might need backup.” Cocking an eyebrow he growled at the audacity of the trooper to question his orders. “ You have your orders, follow them.” Putting on his helmet he flicked his toothpick in a bin, departed and let the rest of the troopers take off to look for his brothers on the other side of the planet. There was no way he would lead them straight to her, ‘them’, if he could avoid it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a shock to everyone there when they saw the shuttle crash down, and even more so when they realised it`s occupants had somehow survived the crash. To think that the empire would try and take down a shuttle with innocent people in it was one thing, but a medical shuttle? People were outraged and they made sure to be vocal about it, until the troops came pouring in and made their way to the crash site. That was also the moment Hunter quickly decided to take his brothers and Omega away from the place. You would be safe, since nobody would expect a civilian to be tied to them, especially a pregnant one. That did not mean he would lose track of you though, and when Omega pulled him aside to talk, he realised once more how smart this young girl truly was and how much promise her idea had. But first things first, time to make sure that you were treated well and that you would recover soon. Safety above all, he instructed his brothers on how to move ahead.

“You all know that Y/N is best off without being directly tied to us. The only one who knows her as well as we do is Crosshair, and I doubt he will have informed the Imps on her. At Least not fully.” Hunter paused for a moment before continuing what he had to tell them and to give them their instructions. “Her chaincode has been forged and she also covered up her scars and tattoos. The only way the Imps will know who she is would be when Crosshair recognises her while he is with them.” Tech, Echo, Wrecker and Omega all nod at this simple statement.

“Right now the safest place for Y/N to be at is in the medical ward here in the city. We took a big risk moving her from one side of the planet to the other, but she made it and is treated now. Omega has a plan for us to get our lost brother back and also help Y/N.” 

For a moment all of them seemed to be lost in thought. The idea that you were injured already shook them, the idea that it might be used to reunite with their lost brother? Well, it gave them a double feeling. On one hand they felt as if they would use your condition and might endanger you if their brother was beyond saving. On the other hand it would give them that one good chance to either saving their brother and reunite, or give him the ultimate freedom if they failed. Either way, this was, as Hunter said, their one good chance and they would grasp it with both hands. Thankfully, they did have some help on the planet, especially since they helped out some of the inhabitants with an imperial problem. Corrupt officials were pretty normal, wherever you would go, you could find one or more of them. This one was no challenge and they made quick work of getting rid of him. Now they could rely on the help of one of the doctors in the med bays and that was a key part of Hunter's plan. 

Omega was restless as she was sitting at the side of your bed. Looking at you, deep asleep and not knowing what was happening around you, she could not help but smile. “I don`t know if you can hear me Y/N, but I really hope my plan will work. Especially for you.” Grabbing your hand, she squeezes it slightly and sighs. “You are always so kind to me and you help me understand things the men can`t. I want you to be happy.” Tapping her foot on the floor, Omega looked around the room they had you moved to. Far away from the other patient rooms and private enough to make sure that they would be able to confront Crosshair without causing too much of a ruckus in the ward. Everything was now in place and all they could do was wait for their  missing brother to turn up. He already landed on the planet, now it was just a matter of how many would come and how well prepared he was for this confrontation, he surely knew would come.

Notes: This is my first TBB story and it is a 2 parter, i am currently working on part 2. I hope you all like it. English is not my native language so if there are any mistakes please do let me know :D And as always i demand Crosshair to be set free and reunited truly with his Vod !  @loth-wolffe  I am redoing all the tags. somehow they never showed up right lol

So i edited this post because, it became a 3 parter >.< I blame the guys for not letting me do what i intended to do and Crosshair for being so kriffing awesome and loveable <3 

@nahoney22 Boo i hope you also like this story or maybe have some tips for me. @reluctant-mandalore I wanted to tag you as well because as a fan of your work i would highly appreciate any tips you could also give.  If i did not tag you, it really does not mean i do not want your words of comment or advice etc. I highly appreciate advice or when i did something wrong. I just am a lazy tagger most times and am not the most secure in tagging when it is about my works :D

@catbustours​ Thought you might like it even if it is not as awesome as Coriolis ;)

[lunapwrites]

AO3 Stats Tag

Thanks @jmilzwrites for the tag!

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 26 published works.

What's your total AO3 word count?

I have apparently published 162,757 words in total.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I am strictly a Harry Potter author. Maybe some day I'll add something else to my collection haha. Probably Dragon Age, if I'm going to be perfectly honest with myself.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1) When the Moon Rises to Meet the Stars (hard 18+!!!!) 2) for him. 3) Louder Than Love 4) A Matter of Interpretation 5) The Great Biscuit Calamity of 1978, and Other Such Disasters

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond to everyone that comments (except for like... one comment I got on Moon, but it was only because I was very unsure of the spirit in which the comment was meant and I overthought it and proceeded to push it under the metaphorical rug to not address ever lol.) But aside from that, I just like reaching out to people and letting them know that I do see their comments and it really means a lot to me to read their thoughts. :) I also like making friends, and if I can make friends in the comments, then that's all the better!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Red, probably haha. I mean I've written a lot of angst, but that one is... it's just whump.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I had someone yell at me for taking the Marauders' side in A Matter of Interpretation, which led me to believe that they didn't actually read the fic, because the literal entire point was that the actual "bad guy" for The Prank changes depending on who is telling the story. But hey.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

(eyes Moon) yeah... so apparently my brand is safe, sane, and consensual kink in which I talk around the bits more than I refer to them directly, and more headspace and emotions than mechanics. I will say that if you like the tags in Moon, I think I'm handling some of those things a bit more effectively in the few scenes in LTL where this has come up (such as the most unintentionally erotic language lesson) so if you're not completely put off by the relationship tags, I do highly recommend it! Especially since Moon was literally the first smut I have ever written... ever.... and part of me wants to bury it in the sand. XD

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

What's your all time favorite ship?

I have a WEAKNESS for Wolfstar. They're super versatile in terms of writing subject. (I do like Hinny for fluff pieces though.)

What's a WIP that you want to finish, but don't think that you ever will?

Honest answer: No Code (I'm not even going to link it.) I made the mistake of posting the sequel to Louder Than Love at the same time that I was working on Louder Than Love, and I hadn't actually mapped anything out correctly at all. A lot of the overarching plot points are still going to be the same, in terms of what the end game is, but I really am not happy with how it gets there, and some major beats have moved away from the way that I have them written there. So I think it's less that I'm not going to finish it, and more that I'm going to rewrite the whole bloody thing, and probably put it all in order to boot.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue for sure, particularly banter. Remus Lupin. Just... Remus. XD And probably also writing train of thought.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Telling, repetition, letting the wheels fall off the banter bus (ie: the feedback loop of snark that is Remus and Sirius), plotting in general (working on it!!), and tagging dialogue. I've got weird dialogue tags I've discovered, and I've got a thing about leading directly into dialogue with a tag first, so I have to put it on a separate line, and it's just... ugh. I can't explain why I can't lead with the tag on the same line, because I have no issues when others do it, but when I do it, it's WRONG. It feels wrong, it looks wrong, and the whole universe is going to die if I keep it. So I don't.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

Well I'm just gonna point at myself here... use it sparingly. I had to go back and edit a buttload of stuff in Moon and No Code because I had too much fucking Welsh and I was nowhere near proficient enough in it to be able to write it as confidently as I was. It can also make things very difficult for readers and pull them out of your scene if you go too hard. Now on the flip side, there's a scene I have in LTL where Remus is falling asleep and his inner monologue switches from English to Wenglish to straight up Welsh as he falls deeper asleep, and it gets more and more disjointed and associative. This is purposeful: it's not supposed to make sense to the reader. So to that end, it's like... if it makes sense narratively and isn't going to trip your readers up too much, then go for it.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The first fandom I published for is Harry Potter... but the first I wrote anything for was... probably Dragonball Z.

What is your favorite fic that you've written?

This is a very hard question. I like Red a lot because I literally wrote that as if I had been suddenly possessed, and it shows. I like Louder Than Love a lot because I've put so much work into it and it's really coming along beautifully (I'm just perpetually annoyed by the first few chapters lol.) And I really, really enjoy Lost Dogs because it was such a challenge to write, and I think that the images I managed to pull out in such small word counts were more powerful for it. But if I had to go with a favorite... Numb (Phobos I) from my Satellites series, which was originally published here. I love Peter in it. I love the way that he and Remus talk to each other. I love the palpable spite in the air. I love the fact that there's a real past between them, that the hurt is still so raw. I so rarely get to see people in the fandom explore Peter at all, ESPECIALLY Wolfstar folks, because most prefer to not address him at all. But he's a constant specter in the background of LTL as well, and Numb is a sort of "What if" taken from that Universe. It may not be my cleanest or most cohesive work, but it's the one that keeps me awake at night.

That was fun!! Tagging in @impishtubist @wanderingbandurria @allalrightagain and anyone else who would like to play! <3

[dikanamai]

—Rosa Rivera, in the Land of the Dead <3

I'm not very fond of AUs, but there's a kind of fic in the Coco fandom that I really like a lot: retellings of the movie with a little divergence or some sort of role reversal/role switch.

Some of the fics I've read and enjoyed the most over these months are like this. Like Elegy, my very favorite, in which Imelda is the one who gets cursed in 1942, after Ernesto's death, and visit the Land of the Dead to find out the truth (Elegy isn't a retelling of the movie, but follows a similar plot). Or Shaken by How Long it Took, an actual retelling of Coco, but with an important canon-divergence: Miguel found the wedding photo of Héctor and Imelda years ago (with Ernesto as padrino) and he knows since the beginning Héctor is his great-great-grandpa. This fic is sooo sweet and heartwarming, because both Héctor and Miguel develop a beautiful relationship. Fluff and family bonding.

Other examples are The search for the Female Mariachi, with a role switch between Héctor and Imelda (so she was the one who left and the one who guides Miguel in the Land of the Dead). Or Miguel, a fic with a complex multi role swaps (still on-going). And I'm sure there are more that I've missed.

The last one I've read is Rosa's Journey, a fic that FINALLY follows a plot I was eager to find: Rosa's the one who goes to the Land of the Dead, instead of Miguel. I've been thinking about it a lot. How would've Coco been if the main character was Rosa? I got very excited with Rosa's Journey, though the role switch isn't just between Miguel and Rosa, but between Héctor and Imelda as well (she's the one who left, again). There's a completely new villain, too: Ernesto doesn't exists and Imelda's colleague is a woman named Earlina de Paula. I've loved this fic and, to be honest, it's been a pleasure to read a Coco retelling with female characters in all the main roles (except for Héctor, obviously).

But this last fic let me thinking… what about a Coco retelling in which the only difference is who goes to the Land of the Dead? I mean, what about a Coco retelling in which Rosa goes to the Land of the Dead, but there's no actual role switch? Miguel is the one who wanna be a musician, he's the one who runs away, he's the one who's about to steal de la Cruz's guitar… but then, Rosa follows him, catches him in the cemetery and almost by mistake gets cursed by picking the guitar for Miguel. How many things would've changed then?

The idea got stronger and stronger, because it's a kind of story I would love to read. Rosa loves music too, but she loves and admires her family. She despises her great-great-grandpa for being a jerk. She doesn't idolize de la Cruz. She's sassy, funny, smart, sharp. So what kind of relationship would she develop with Héctor, who's salty, sarcastic, has no more fucks to give and also despises de la Cruz? I mean… wouldn't they be the perfect duo?! I've realized the relationship between Héctor and Miguel in the movie is kind of tense most of the time, because the kid adores Ernesto and Héctor doesn't want to disappoint him but knows the true face of that fucker. But if the kid had been a bit warier about Ernesto, their bond could've been very different. And, let’s be honest: taking care of Rosa would remind Héctor of Coco ALL THE TIME.

So I couldn't help but start writing my own retelling, because I couldn't stop thinking about it. In this story, Rosa lives the adventure that was meant for her cousin. The motivations and relationships between characters are very different. She meets a family she loves, she finds herself forced to look for a great-great-grandpa she despises and joins a trickster who has a lot in common with her. And it's being a joy. I'm writing it in a row (7 chapters by now, I'm in the battle of the bands) and I'd love to post it when I finish. But I wanted to share a little bit, because I'm enjoying it very much. So, if you're interest, here's a sneak peek of chapter 4, when Rosa and Héctor meet each other :D

Before reading: please, remember English is not my mother tongue and this is actually the first time in my life I write fiction directly in English (instead of translating something previously written in Spanish). Though I've been a writer for 20 years now, I'm not good at English. This is the first draft and it hasn't been revised. I have no beta readers, either. So any kind of tip, feedback or whatever would be very appreciate. Enjoy! :)

(...)

She thought she had lost him in the crowd, but spotted him again very quickly. It wouldn’t be possible to get too far with that limp, though he strode across the gallery with firm determination. He was crumpling the officer's warning and throwing it aside.

"Hey! Hey!" Rosa sprinted to him. "You, err… ¡señor! Do you really know de la Cruz?"

The man huffed loudly and began to turn. "Yeah, who wants to—" Then he saw her and shrieked so stridently it seemed to echo around the whole hall. "Y-YOU'RE ALIVE!"

Forget the curse: she was going to die tonight by a heart attack. Blind by the panic rush, she grabbed the man by the suspenders and pulled him rudely into a near phone booth to get out of sight. He pressed himself against the farthest corner, still as scared as if he'd just found himself trapped there with a chupacabras instead of a girl. He seemed about to start screaming again and she was going to throw up, seriously, she was going to.

"Stop yelling, por Dios!" she demanded frantically. "Sí, I'm alive! And just in case you haven't notice, I shouldn't be here right now! I'm in a big trouble and need de la Cruz's blessing to go back home in the Land of the Living!"

"You need— You just— Wait, what?" He was babbling, but then frowned. "Wait there, that's weirdly specific…"

Rosa grunted in frustration, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Okay, this needed a direct approach. "He's my… great-great-grandfather."

"He's your WHAT?!"

"STOP YELLING!" She shook him, so on edge she didn't even notice she was shouting herself. "I need his blessing now, okay? A family blessing! I just wanna know if you can help me or not!"

"Okay, okay, okay, wait." He waved a hand to shush her and looked aside, a deeper frown shadowing his face as he focused on his thoughts. Some very complex thoughts, it seemed. "Wait, wait, waitwaitwait…" He started tapping on his chin, as if trying to figure something out, and Rosa started tapping her foot impatiently.

"Look, I don't have much time."

"It can't… but what if…"

"Could you just answer my question, ple—?"

"Yes. Yes!" He brightened up and flashed a wide smile at her. "Yes, you're going back to the Land of the Living!"

"No, I'm not, if we spent the whole night here!" Rosa put her hands on her hips, but then noticed his wild expression and grimaced. This guy's mind seemed to be racing even faster than her own, no brakes. Perhaps he had already lost it in full. "Aaand now it's when I start regretting all of this…"

"Nononono, listen up, niña!" He bent down a little, snapping his fingers under her nose. "I can help you, but you can help me too! I can help you, you can help me, we can help each other, but most importantly, you can help me!"

"Whoa…" Rosa couldn't but stare at him, raising an eyebrow. "And I thought I was desperate…"

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, his shoulders drooping. "Oh, you've noticed? How sharp!" Okay, that sounded far too salty. "Desperate is my second name, chamaca, nice to meet you."

"That's not very comforting…"

"Hey, hey, hey, look at the bright side! Since I'm desperate to cross over, I'm also desperate to get you to go home! Take it as a guarantee of my honesty, I'll help you!"

She narrowed her eyes, too. The guy was really something, but he didn't seem dangerous, despite his ragged appearance. Rosa was used to identify and avoid creepy men; they all had some kind of energy around them that gave her bad vibes just by being close. But this one just looked like… Miguel. A taller, older Miguel, as harmless as her cousin. She knew she couldn't trust a stranger and she would keep her eyes open, but maybe this could actually work. She glanced at Dante, checking for approval, and the dog was so calm she relaxed a bit.

"Okay then, don Despair." She shot him a smug gaze. "And what's your first one?"

"Héctor." He smiled and offered her his hand.

"I'm Rosa." She shook it and kept the grip to pull him out the booth. "And we're going right now, because I'm chased."

"That's new." She could hear his frown even without looking at him. "Chased by whom?"

But there was no time for explanations. Rosa had just put her feet in the hall, when a well-known female voice called out her name from the distance. She finally spotted her family far away, rushing down the staircase of the upper platform. And the punch of stress and dread hit her hard again, making her heart jump and her stomach twist.

"¡Ay, Dios! Come on, come on, COME ON!!"

She pushed Héctor to the exit, ignoring his complaints, and the three of them bolted to the street. They zipped through the revolving doors so fast that several skeletons broke apart as they slammed against the glass. But she couldn't stop now. Rosa leaped down the steps of the stairway in pairs, with the clack, clack, clack of Héctor's footsteps tripping at her side. Dante passed them by and threw himself into the crowd that filled the place, disappearing between legs and skirts. Too many people, too many. Rosa collided with some passersby who yelled at her, and she babbled apologies and turned around again and again, increasingly disoriented and scared, surrounded by unknown skeletal faces and too bright colors. She was already panting frantically.

"Dante!" she cried out in distress.

"Don't get lost, chamaca!" And suddenly Héctor was at her side, one hand keeping his hat on his head and the other one gripping her wrist to drag her across the plaza. "Over there!"

Rosa had only two seconds to peek over her shoulder one last time, to the Station. She couldn't see her family anywhere. If something went wrong, how…?

Dios, what I am doing?

They rushed together down more stairs and loped off through a few side streets, in that never-ending getaway. At last, they reached an empty, arched alley, far darker and quieter. He finally let go of her hand there, puffing.

"Whoa, that felt like a breakout. You're chased by the authorities, by any chance?" He gave her a questioning look. "Not that I mind, you know, and I know better than to ask unpleasant questions, but this is—" He trailed off when he saw her face and his little smile faded. "Oye, oye, ¿chamaca?"

Rosa wasn't listening. With her back against the alley's wall, she fought to catch her breath, shaking. This was madness. What a mess. Her heart seemed to be fiercely beating in her throat, and she could still see Mamá Imelda's eyes on her with that furious frown. Oh, Dios, she had just run away from Mamá Imelda! From Mamá Imelda! Had she lost her mind? She gaped in horror and cupped her own face, panic bubbling inside her chest once more.

"Hey, chamaca!" Héctor was snapping his fingers again to wake her up. "You okay?"

Her last bit of self-control cracked. "Do I look like I'm okay?!" Rosa shouted in a high-pitched voice, hyperventilating now. "I'm frigging cursed and I'm in the frigging Land of the Dead and I have to find a frigging celebrity before sunrise or I'll be frigging dead and— Oh, Dios, I can see my finger bones already, I CAN SEE MY FRIGGING FINGER BONES!!"

"Rosa!" Héctor grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. "Calm down! No yelling, remember? Stop the 'frigging' thing. It's okay, you're gonna be okay. You looked so clear-headed a moment ago it was almost a bit scary, you know. I'm sure you can handle this. You have a plan, right? Just focus."

He talked as if she wasn't right before him in a full panic and he knew her since forever, both things untrue. But his voice was soothing and sounded very reasonable. It reminded her of Tía Victoria and the way she had calmed her down in the cemetery an… hour ago? Two? It seemed like a lifetime. You're a very sensible little woman with a lot of common sense inside that head… Would Tía Vico still think that way? She didn't think so. Rosa groaned and buried her face in her fists. Breathe in, breathe out. Dante pressed himself against her leg and nuzzled her thigh, whining. His warm was comforting, and her pulse began to steady. Yeah, panic wouldn't help her to go back home. She had to focus. She had made a decision and she had to think how many things were at stake. She had to keep cold-head and make this work, whatever it costed.

She had to get de la Cruz's blessing.

"Sí," she whispered finally, and then she straightened up and looked Héctor in the eye. "Sí, I have a plan."

"Great!" He smiled reassuringly. "We'll make it, chamaca. Don't worry, sí?"

Rosa nodded and swallowed. "Gracias. Sorry, I just…" She tried to elaborate, but gave up with a grunt. "That… pinche Miguel!"

"Miguel?"

"Mi primo." Rosa took off her glasses and pressed a palm over her eyes for a moment, praying for her headache to give her a break. "He was about to do a very stupid thing and I tried to stop him. Then I did a very stupid thing and got myself stuck in here. Everything's been a roller coaster since then, I feel as if running for hours. But enough of that. How do we get to de la Cruz?"

"Hey, hey, slow down!" Héctor looked suspiciously hesitant. "First of all, we should do something about all that… that…" He waved towards her, from head to toe. "All that flesh of you. We won't get far if you don't blend in, you need a disguise. Got any makeup or face paint? Something we can use?"

Rosa rushed to unzip her pockets and sighted in relief when she found her little brothers' face paint still there. She only had white and black, and the old red lipstick of Tía Gloria, but that was enough. Héctor gave her a nod of approval and led her up the alley, till they found some crates and took a seat. Dante sat by their side and watched them closely, so incredibly happy again. The dog had relaxed after fleeing the Station and seemed very at ease around the stranger. Rosa took it as a good sign. Even if Héctor was a trickster, he had made a point before: his priority was crossing over the bridge, that much was obvious, so it was unlikely he could mean any harm. There was no point in hurting the only person who could help you.

"Hold still, hold still," Héctor murmured, so focused on her makeup that Rosa straightened up and held her pose. The quietness was very welcome after all the stress, she didn't mind the pause at all. But it was also pretty surreal to be sitting there, with a skeleton painting her face just as Tía Gloria would've done if she hadn't ended in that crazy place.

Perhaps she had just knocked herself out by falling from de la Cruz's sepulcro and was hallucinating the entire thing.

She really hoped so.

A few minutes later, Héctor finally looked satisfied. "Ta-da! The perfect calaverita!" He took a small mirror out of his pocket and held it in front of her. Rosa put on her glasses again and whistled in disbelief, actually impressed. It was a regular calavera makeup, but he'd got creative with the lipstick and had drawn beautiful patterns in her cheeks and around her brows. "Wait, no hood?" he added, peeking over her shoulder to the jacket's back.

"Err… no."

Héctor sighed dramatically. "Ay, okay, your hair. Let it down, we must hide those ears."

Rosa obeyed and he quickly parted her hair in two halves for a twin braids hairdo. He worked so fast, so I-know-perfectly-what-I'm-doing, that she couldn't help whistling again. "You know, you look pretty skilled at braiding," she scoffed.

Héctor chuckled, though his smile seemed a little bittersweet. "I used to make a lot of braids, a long, long time ago. Got any other—?" Rosa held up a second rubber band before he asked for it. "Girls, always ready."

"I must, with this hair."

"This hair's gonna save your day, chamaca." He arranged the braids to cover her ears and put back her diadem as if crowning her. "Okay, ya está. That diadema will keep them in place. Collar up! Perfect, I think we're done. Just…" He looked thoughtfully at her legs. "We should get a skirt. Long to the ankles."

"Oye, how old are you?" Rosa complained, and put her hands on her hips again in annoyance. "Now you talk like my abuela!"

"If Ernesto is actually you're great-great-grandpa, I assure you I'm old enough to be your great-great-grandpa too." Héctor pouted and crossed his arms. "But the point is we can't paint your fleshy legs. Can you unfold that hem?"

Grumbling under her breath, Rosa tried to pull the cuffed hem of her capri jeans as down as she could. It was disturbing to see the curse creeping up her legs, her feet fully skeletal by then like ominous ankle socks.

"Okay, now listen to me, Rosa: this world is not much different from your own, so here are the golden rules." Héctor lifted three fingers. "Stay close, don't get lost and never follow any weird guy to any weird place."

She shot him a dry glare. "You serious?" she blurted out. "I'm in a really weird place with a really weird guy right now!"

"This doesn't count!" He waved a hand dismissively. "We have a deal! And I would never harm a fly, far less a little girl or any other human being."

"Right the kind of thing a weird guy would say." Rosa rolled her eyes. "Look, I can take care of myself, don't worry about that."

"Oh? And how you—?"

He couldn't finish. As fast as light, she took off one of her flats and swatted him hard in the cheekbone. So hard that his skull spun around. Héctor shirked and grabbed his head to stop it, looking at her with wide, dumbfounded eyes.

"You'll never see me coming." Rosa gave him a smug smile and a sassy shrug, before putting her flat on.

"That…" He was speechless. "That felt familiar…"

"Did it?" She raised an eyebrow. "How many women have hit you with their shoes?"

"Just one, but she hit hard enough to be unforgettable." For a tiny moment, he seemed about to smile fondly, but covered it with a cough. "Okay, okay, I trust you, so back to business! There's something important you must understand, Rosa. This place runs on memories. If you're well remembered, people put up your photo and you get to cross the bridge and visit the living on Día de Muertos." He put a hand on his chest with a tense smile. "As you've probably notice by now, that's not my case."

"You've never crossed over?" She frowned, getting serious.

"No one's ever put up my picture. But you can change that!" He took an old photo out from his inner pocket and handed it to her. It was black and white, with a young living Héctor who looked a very little older than her own big brother. His eyes were big and bright, and his smile seemed to cross his whole sharp-angled face. She scanned it intently, feeling that something was off but not getting what. Dios, how old actually was that guy? How old was he when he died?

"So… this is you."

"Muy guapo, eh?" he joked, waving his brows.

Rosa snorted. "So you want me to put up your photo on my family's ofrenda when I get home… in exchange of getting me to my great-great-grandpa."

"Well, yeah, about that…" Oh, no, that suspicious hesitation again. "Actually, de la Cruz is a tough guy to get to, and I need to cross that bridge soon. Like tonight. So, you got any other family here? You know, someone a bit more… ehh, accessible?"

Rosa stared at him, poker-faced. She couldn't think about her family without fretting again, but she couldn't afford another panic attack either. Héctor was really desperate; if he found out she'd just run away from her relatives, they would never make their way to de la Cruz. He could even try to take her back to the Station right away. So she hardened her look and narrowed her eyes, in what she hoped to look like an 'are-you-frigging-kidding-me' expression.

"What part of  'I need de la Cruz's blessing' you didn't get?" she hissed, trying her best to look offended. "Did you really think I'd be here if I had another option? It's de la Cruz's or nothing!" Rolling her eyes with a lot of drama, she huffed and pushed the photo against Héctor's chest. "I should've guessed you only wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible. Well then, don Despair! I won't bother you anymore, good luck with your bridge. Let's go, Dante!"

She stood up and strode away.

"Wha— Waitwaitwait!" Rosa was already half way to the alley's entry. "Argh! Okay, okay, niña, fine! Fine! I'll get you to your great-great-grandpa!"

Rosa stopped and waited while Héctor trotted towards her, limping. When he reached her, she flashed him a bright smile.

"Lead the way, guapo," she teased.

Héctor pouted again. "You're pretty terrible, you know that?"

And this time, she felt extremely proud.

[riteandwread]

By request, the first 1800 or so words of the AFTG Alias inspired AU I’m working on that now is tentatively titled Truth Be Told 

Tokyo, Japan

The cold water hit Neil like a brick wall. His head was shoved into the rusty tub filled with ice water for what felt like the hundredth time and each time it seemed that they held him under for longer than the last. Neil's eyes burned from the irritated contact lenses as he opened them under the cold water, desperately searching for a way out of this impossible situation. Neil was no stranger to torture but it didn't mean he enjoyed it or wanted to prolong it for any longer than he had to.

Neil's head was wrenched out of the water, his hair, dyed a bright and unnatural shade of red, whipped through the air as the guards grabbed him the the collar of his black shirt and threw him across the room. Neil tumbled through the section of the warehouse and through the plastic strips hanging from the ceiling and landed in a heap on the floor.

The guards, two Japanese men, screamed at him. They demanded to know his name, who he worked for, and how he could have possibly gained entrance to their facility.

“I don't understand what you're saying!” Neil gasped in between breaths. It was a lie, of course, Neil spoke fluent Japanese.

One of the guards kicked him in the stomach and spoke in Japanese again, “Tell us who sent you!”

Neil coughed and spit blood out of his mouth, purposely causing it to spatter across the legs of one of the guards pants. The guard kicked him again before grabbing Neil by the hair and hauling him to his feet. The man led him deeper into the facility and through locked and coded doors. Neil used the time to gain the lay of the land, committing each room to memory and trying to make out a basic floor plan for his escape. Neil's eyes lingered on a bright red door a the the bottom of a flight of stairs that they passed at a speed slightly faster than the rest of the rooms. His target was behind that door and if he could get in, retrieve it, and get it back to Ichirou then all would be forgiven. Ichirou would forgive Neil, no longer doubt his loyalties, and welcome him back into his good graces. Neil had to make it into that room, if he didn't then he would die; either by the hands of the people in this facility or at the hands of Ichirou himself. Neither was an option Neil was comfortable with, not when so many parts of his larger plan were riding on this single success.

The guard pushed Neil forward as Neil tried to drag his feet for a few more precious seconds of observation. The second guard rounded behind the first, kicking Neil in the back of his legs and making him crumple forward. The guards grabbed him by either arm and pulled him down the hall and through a twisting labyrinth of corridors until they stopped in front of an old looking wooden door. The right most guard released Neil's arm and held the door open while the other guard pushed Neil forward and into the room.

Neil didn't have time to react before the guard grabbed him again and shoved him down into a wooden chair in the center of the room. Neil only had a few seconds to scan the room to plan a possible escape route or find any weapons he could use before the taller guard rounded the chair and jerked Neil's hands backwards. Neil heard the sound of handcuffs opening and froze as he felt the metal clamp down around his skin. The guard tightened them as much as he could before he cuffed the other end to the back of the chair and then repeated the same exact process for Neil's other hand. Neil took a controlled breath and counted to five. Things had just gotten much worse but there was no use in panicking, if he panicked it would only make things worse.

The first guard left the room quickly and the second paused just before leaving the room, “You should have spoken with us. Things are about to get much worse for you.”    

It took Neil a moment to realize that the guard spoke in English, it was sloppy and broken but it was still English and somehow that unsettled Neil even more. The guard wanted Neil to know that something bad was about to happen.

The room was dimly lit after the door closed and Neil could hardly make out anything except for what was directly in front of him. The cadence of dripping water from a rusty pipe above him hitting the floor was the only sound in the room aside from the scraping sound the handcuffs mad against the chair as Neil tried to free himself. Neil could feel the trickle of blood running down his face from the cut on his forehead, it had just reached his eye and his vision was starting to go blurry. If there was one thing Neil underestimated in all of this it was how much that assholes ring would hurt when he backhanded him. There was a tray a few feet away from him, metallic and glinting from the light overhead as it swung back and fourth. Neil had caught sight of it when they first pushed him into the room and he knew exactly what was on it. A few blades, a syringe, a large clamp, and a pair of pliers. Neil bit back on the wave of panic that washed over him for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

There were hushed voices coming from the other side of the door and Neil turned his head and strained his hearing to try and make out what they were saying. The voices quieted after a moment and everything seemed unnaturally still until the handle of the door started to turn slowly. Neil could hear the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears as everything else around him muted.

The door creaked open and revealed an older man with a deceptively soft look on his face; if Neil had to guess he'd put the mans age at somewhere around 60. The mans face was almost as round as his body and he was hopelessly out of shape but Neil knew better than to underestimate the man from that fact alone because you didn't need to be athletic to be able to inflict the worst kind of pain on someone.

The man stepped inside the room and shut the door behind him, taking an extra second to turn the deadbolt on the door. Neil flinched as he heard the soft think it made when it clicked into place. The man reached over and flicked a light switch and washed the room in a bright fluorescent light and it was then that Neil was able to make out more about the man. A pair of wire framed glasses balanced on the old mans nose and Neil's eyes were immediately drawn to the pair of black latex gloves that he wore on his hands.

Neil took a deep breath and shook his head, letting the wet and obscenely bright red hair fall over his eyes in a way that made him look younger and more vulnerable. As soon as the man took another step forward Neil began to sob, “Please, you have the wrong person!”

The man looked down at him, “Who do you work for?”

Neil choked out another sob, “I work for Best Buy for fucks sake! I'm just here on vacation, you have the wrong person!”

The man ignored him him and pulled a chair out from the corner of the room and placed in front of Neil, “Who are you?”

“You have my ID!” Neil yelled, “My name is Adam Reynolds, it's all there on my ID that you took from me!”

“If you answer my questions I will numb you for what comes next,” The man said as he sat down in the chair and reached over to pluck a syringe off of the metal tray near his right side, “If you do not then you will feel everything.”

Neil barely resisted an eye roll, he wouldn't like it but if anyone could take the pain it would be him, and instead he closed his eyes and willed himself into making more tears appear, “Please, please don't hurt me! I promise my family will pay you whatever you want, just look up my parents! They'll pay you anything to get me back as long as you don't hurt me!”

Before Neil could process the action the man had backhanded him and opened up another cut on his cheek bone. Neil shook his head, momentarily dazed from the impact. The room around him seemed to spin and it took Neil a few seconds to get his bearings back. By the time Neil could see straight again he found the man had replaced the syringe on the tray and was staring at him with his hands folded over his lap and a peaceful smile playing across his lips.

“I will ask you one final time,” the man said slowly, “Who do you work for?”

Neil let out a deep sigh before he looked up at the man, dropping the defenseless demeanor and chilling the man with a cold stare, “Fine. But you’re going to need a pen and a piece of paper.”

The man looked at him for a moment before nodding and pulling a pen and note pad out of the front pocket of his shirt.

“OK,” Neil said, “Write this down and make sure you pay attention because I’m only going to say it once.”

“Speak.” The man said.

“E. M. E. T. I. B.” Neil spoke slowly, enunciating so the asshole could hear every letter clearly.

The man looked down at the paper with a puzzled expression.

“I’m not done,” Neil smiled, “Now reverse the letters and read out what it spells.”

The man took a few seconds to write down the set of letters in reverse and looked back up at Neil, glaring at him, “Bite me.”

Neil threw his head back and let out a wicked laugh, “Hey, if you’re into that then who am I to judge?”

The man let out a low growl before he grabbed Neil by the jaw with one hand, “Then you will not be numb for this.”

The man furiously tore the clamp from the tray with his other hand. He forced Neil's mouth open, wedging the clamp in between his teeth and locking it in place so it held Neil's mouth open. Neil's eyes went wide as he watched the man grab the pliers next, opening them and shoving them in the back of Neil's throat. Neil sucked in a deep breath as he felt the jaws of the pliers close on one of the teeth in the back of his mouth and then looked back at the man who give Neil another soft smile before he began to pull on the tooth.