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vampire207343 · 2 years

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Rosebelle Swan

what if.... Bella Swan has a fraternal twin sister by the name Rosebelle Marian Swan.

Growing up Rosebelle Swan has never seem to measure to sister Bella in their parents eyes even when She did everything perfect, but it's still not good enough.

When I got imprinted on by my friend Jacob Black instead of accepting the imprint like the other wolves Jake reject it which only devested me. Even Jake dosen't want to accept me since I'm not Bella, I had enough always being compare to my twin sister that when I graduate high school early. I decided to leave Forks instead of staying around and didn't tell anyone where I'm going.

My twin sister Bella was so understanding for me wanting to leave even when she's going through a horrible break up but she disen't need me to get through her break up she has our dad even jake. I gaved her my new phone number and made her promise not to give my new number to our parents or Jake or any of the pack which she did before I left without any backward glace.

I descided to move with my Aunt Anne and her husband Enrico Rivera. I always been close to both of them than I ever did with my own parents. They always wanted children of their own but Aunt Anne is unable to have a child of their own so they both treat me like the daughter they never had before which I don't mind since my parents never show me love like I wanted the one who did was both my Aunt Anne and Uncle Enrico their more my parents than my actual parents.

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Emily Young the Imprint of Sam Uley understand why Rosabelle left Forks a few weeks after Jacob Black rejected his own imprint which broke Rose's part of the imprint but it dosen't mean that it hurt her anyless especially since she has always been under her sister's shadow. While the part of Rose's imprint broke it dosen't mean that Jacob's end also broke but on the contrary it still very much strong when he first imprint on her. Rose might have a chance of falling in love with someone else and get married if she want but Jacob dosen't have that luxury of beging with someone other than his imprint which is now impossible since he rejected her which cause her to leave washington all together, even the other wolves knows the only one who don't is Jacob himself.

Who was to busy beging the lap dog of Bella Swan the twin sister of his own imprint to care she left at all. Sooner or later he would regret rejecting his imprint before they even had a chance just because she wasn't Bella Swan. The only one who still has contact with Rose is bella herself and she isn't telling anyone where she is because she promise her sister she wouldn't tell anyone her where about unless Rose told herself that it was alright. Which the pack understand which they mostly wouldn't see Rose again, unless Bella get married if she even get married at all, which we doubt that Bells would ever marry Jacob shd may date him just fill the hole that Edward Cullen left from her heart but they are 100% sure that Bella would never marry Jacob.

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I work so hard to gradute Collage after I moved to the Philipines with my Aunt and Uncle and I, Rosebelle Marian Swan has decided to attend Atenek de Manila University and work hard to graduate Early that by the time was 20 years old I already graduate and I only attending this University for about 3 years before graduating decided to make a name for my self as a singer and actress.

I got casted in my first movie when I was 20 years old as dyesebel herself in a Philippine television drama romance fantasy where she meet her co-star Nathan Raphael Dantes casted as Fredo the love intrest of Dyesebel, they became friends with one another but as months pass feelings for each other grew like no other that I manged to forget all about Jake and feeling unloved but with Nathan is different he makes me feel wanted and love like no one has ever show me. It wasn't before we end up together. He even heal her broken heart, I know then he is the man I wanted to spend the rest of life not Jacob. I'm glad Jacob reject me as his imprint if not I would have never been able to meet Nathan I wouldn't have left Forks and meet Nathan and that is something I never wanted to happen meeting Nathan is best that could have ever happen to my life.

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3 years after, after Rosebelle left Forks Jacob manged to get Bella Swan as his girlfriend but the pack kniws that she has no feelings for him she was only using him to fill the hole Edward left behind 5 years ago. She only agree to be his girlfriend since she dosen't want to lose him to like she lost her leech of an ex-boyfriend. Bella was 22 years old by then attend Washington State University for her junior year of college.

2 years later...

Bella Swan was invited to a wedding in the Philipines which she attend alone since Jacob can't leave the tribe unprotected from Vampires even with his pack brothers not that Bella mine going alone to wedding it was like Bella dosen't want Jacob to come to wedding at all. Unknown to the pack the wedding inivation was from Rosebelle's wedding to her boyfriend Nathan Dantes who she dated for four years. It's why Bella didn't want Jake to come, bella travel to the philipines for Rosebelle's wedding which all the their friends and close family were their.

(Rosebelle Marian Swan & Nathan Raphael Dantes)

They have huge wedding which bella should expected their both famous actor and actress making about a couple million a year. And Rose make even more beging a singer as well.

Bella was happy that Rosebelle found her own happiness that she deserve after many years of beging alone, she finally found the guy she want to spent the rest of her life and anyone call tell Rosebelle is happy with Nathan they are each other's better half.

Nathan gaved his new wife Rosebelle a song writen just for Rosebelle composed by a friend of their.

youtube

(Replace the name Marian River for Rosebelle Swan)

After the wedding Bella return to Forks after saying her goodbye to her Aunt Anne and Uncle Enrico Rivera along with her twin sister Rosebelle and her new husband Nathan, who plan to take Rose to Malamawi Island, the crown jewel of Basilan, for their honeymoon for a month.

Charlie Swan didn't ask why she travel to the philipines for a wedding which she lied about an old friend she has when she and Rose visit their Aunt when their kids just got married. Which he accepted by then charlie Swan already realized how he treated his youngest daughter always comparing her to Bella that she grow distant to him over the years and the only one she seem to get along with is Bella herself. He didn't even realized that she left he was to worried about Bella now he dosen't even know where she was or she was even alived, he regret many thing on how he never seem to pay attention on Rosebelle growing up that he didn't even know the most basic thing about her he thought her favorite color was green until Bella correct him that it was Red & Purple not green like he first thought it was like he didn't even know his youngest daughter.

Charlie Swan wasn't the only one who regret how he raised Rosebelle so did Renée Dwyer who never payed any mine to Rosebelle until she left altogether. Bella and Rosebelle are now 24 years old so they don't really need them anymore, but I know I wanted to make up for all the things I miss in Rosebelle's life I know charlie felt the same but we both know we can't turn back time we just need to keep moving forward maybe one day we might make up for our mistake with Rosebelle and we hope one day she would find it in her heart to forgive us.

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A year after Rosebelle and Nathan Danates got married they were noth bless with twins a boy and a girl while their children where unexpected but they are still equally love by the time Rosebelle give birth to her twins she was already a 26 years old woman and her children was given the name Rosella Anne and Adrian Xavier Dantes.

Which Rosebelle and Nathan welcome their two children's birth and they were both over joy at the birth of their own children. Which Bella congrasulated them on Skype since she can't visit in person just after a year after her return from the philipines so they understand they she would most likely not meet the twins in person at less they can talk on skype when they grew up.

It wasn't long before Bella decided to break up with her boyfriend Jake Black who she been dating for almost 3 years now since she wasn't even in love with him to begin with she only agree to date him so that she would lose him like she did with Edward and by then the pack already destroy Victoria who wanted to kill for unknowingly getting her mate James killed by the Cullens in order to protect me.

Beside any feels I may have had with Edward has long fade after all it been 8 years since Edward left me and it's doubtful that they would come back for her and it's about time I move on with my life instead of living in the past like I have been doing since Edward left me.

"So in order for me to truely move on from Edward I decided to leave forks for a while decided to move yo the Philipines to near my Aunt Anne and her husband Uncle Enrico and be near my sister and her husband along with their two beautiful children. Maybe who knows I might find love again here like Rosebelle did" bella thought to herself.

3 months later...

Bella end up meeting a friend of her sister and brother-in-law, Richard who is well known Filipino actor, environmentalist and model. They fell in love with each other, it was like it was love at first seight that they are now dating each other and look together many people told them that.

(Richard De la Cruz and Bella Swan)

Richard is the now who really help bella move on from Edward Cullen the moment they meet each other it was like Edward never even walk into to her life. She was glad to move to the Philipines because it allow her to meet the lovd of her life Richard this Bella was sure of she dosen't know what she'll do if she ever lost Richard he is her life if he isn't in it then life isn't worth living without him by herside.

Bella also meet the nine months old children of her sister which she quickly adore them. Growing up with their mother Renée, Bella never wanted children but if it was Richard then shecwould love them because they are the proof of their love to one another like Rosella and Adrian are the proof of Rosebelle and Nathan's love for each other.

By then Rosebelle isn't just an Actress, and singer, she also model, Misician and Dancer. While Nathan isn't just an actor anymore he is also a Model, Film Director, Film producer, Televation Direcfor, Dancer and Political. Both of them are known as the Primetime king and Queen.

They recently finish foing a tv show called Encantadia which is a Philippine television drama fantasy. Rosebelle cast as Minea the fourth queen mother of the Kingdom of Lireo, and the mother of the four Sang'gres destined to be the keepers of the four elemental gems of the world of Encantadia. While Nathan casted as Raquim of Sapiro, he is a Prince of the Kingdom of Sapiro. He is a cousin of Rama Armeo and the father of Hara Amihan of Lireo.

(Rosebelle and Nathan as Minea and Raquim)

They both had fun acting in that TV show it was one of the best tv drama they did together and Dyesebel only coming in secound.

Bella Watching her sister act at her latest Tv show made her wanted to try beging an actress it look found to her so she try and her first Tv show as Alwina in Mulawin a Philippine television drama fantasy which she casted along side Richard that's when she realized her true calling as actress. And she even did Mulawin: The Movie is a Filipino fantasy action film sequel to the Mulawin television series. Which is very big hit.

17 years later....

Jacob Black regret ever rejecting his Imprint on Rosebelle 25 years ago, I don't even know if she's still single. I was stupid enough to reject her just for the chance to be with Bella who never loved him not even the 3 years they dated and now the pack recevied a wedding inivation to wedding which the pack attended only see his imprint that he rejected 25 years ago happily married and have two 17 years old son and daughter.

If I wasn't so stupid to reject Rosebelle I might have been happily married to Rosebelle by now and her twins could have been my own children, if only i wasn't stupid i would be happy like the rest ofmy pack mates.

#Bella #twilight #Bella swan has a twin sister #Bella swan #Ateneo de Manila University #Rosebelle Marian Swan x Nathan Raphael Dantes #Mestizang Caviteña found in Youtube #Rosella Anne and Adrian Xavier Dantes Twins #Isabella Marie Swan x Richard Christian De La Cruz

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resurekto · 3 months

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Do you know what's interesting? Have you ever been lost in time? I've been lost for a long time… yesterday I was talking to my cousin, we were exchanging singers and bands we listen to, and she was surprised that I listen to some singers who I think are popular, but it turned out they are not, and that some of them were in the trend back in 2015… how? it's so strange. …I'm only now realizing how much everything is mixed up for me… and I also feel sad that many good singers are not noticed… both Ukrainian and foreign, there are so many of them, when I find a good singer even in an unfamiliar language, I go to listen to him, because I can translate the song, find out the meaning and enjoy the voice I hear in my headphones… If anyone is interested, I listen to music through Spotify, and I would like to share with you the singers, bands, and singers I listen to, maybe you will find something new and interesting for yourself, haha...

Abe Parker, All Good Things, Alice Change, The Amazing Devil, Anya Nami, Anze Rozman, Ari Abdul, Atharva Mohite, Aurora, Bad Omens, Bambie Thug, Barns Courtney, Belle Sisoski, Billie Eilish, The Birt and the Bee, Biz, Bôa, Cleffy, Conan Gray, The Crane Wives, DaVishenka, Dianic, Dutch Melrose, Fall Out Boy, Fish in a Birdcage, Glass Animals, GRAHAM, HEARTSTEEL, Jagwar Twin, Jake Daniels, Jann, Jorge Rivera-Herrans, Karna, Klavdia Petrivna, Kate Bush, Lady Gaga, Lana Del Rey, Lappy, Linkin Park, Luke Black, Lydia the Bard, Laila!, Melanie Martinez, Mitski, MOLODI, Mother Mother, MOTHICA, Måneskin, Nxdia, Odetary, Of Montreal, Oh The Larceny, The Oozes, To Eternity, Paris Paloma, PinocchioP, PLVTINUM, Poor Man's Poison, Pusher, Rabbitology, Radiohead, Rio Romeo, Rohata Zhaba, Sad Novelist, Skillet, SadSvit, Schmalgauzen, Set It Off, Shaya Zamora, Sir Chloe, Soap&Skin, SOFIA ISELLA, STARSET, Three Days Grace, Tom Cardy, Unlike Pluto, UPSAHL, The Weeknd, Within Temptation, Yaelokre, Yuu Miyashita, Zaton, ZERA, Ziferblat, Zwyntar, Лея, МУР, Хейтспіч

#ukrainian tumblr #global #my post #my opinion #am #spotify #i dont know #haha #:_3

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bedbellyandbeyond · 3 years

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The Other Therianthrope

(Story Post)

Reid took care of Nathan, making sure he got some new clothes and a proper check up. Once again, he was perfectly healthy, with the same wolf features he ever had. This time however, his transformation had been caught on surveillance camera so the doctor made a request to get the footage for review. He did want to see the transformation firsthand at some point but he didn't want to try to force Nathan into anything, especially if it meant provoking him. He planned to look over the footage with Dr. Aias and then get back to Nathan if he found anything noteworthy. Nathan did however request for Reid to be present for the rest of the meeting with Camilo and Korsgaard. He felt well enough to finish their discussion after having lunch in the cafeteria so Camilo arranged to meet again in the afternoon. Korsgaard's office wasn't very big and cramming five people into it at once was really pushing it, so they found a free meeting room to congregate in and give everyone some breathing room. Reid was last to join them after he finished an appointment with another patient, but he got in before they really started up and sat himself beside Nathan and Dax.

Nathan got right to the point as soon as he felt ready. “If Kent's really alive, where is he? Texas?” Korsgaard shook his head. “Short drive out of Thunder Bay. New name. Kent Rivera.” “He's still in Canada?” Nathan asked. “I thought you took him back down to the US.” “We did,” Camilo said. “Initially. The FBI needed to identify him before arrangements were made to get him into protection.” “Thunder Bay?” Dax shook his head. “That's a whole day’s drive up north. It’s even plane worthy.” “Remote for his protection,” Korsgaard said. “His protection?” Nathan frowned. “He's built like a fucking tank. What does he need protection from?” “The US government,” Camilo said as he got off the phone. “The only reason he's alive right now is because we made a deal with their government to keep him out of their country. They had enough evidence to prove he was innocent of the crimes he was accused of, but proving it to the public, which already loves to believe he's guilty, would mean exposing the fact that therianthropy exists which is not something they would want to do.” “So…it's all a cover up?” Dax said. “They know he's innocent but can't prove it to the public so they fake his execution? Sacrificing his freedom for PR?” “It’s the FBI,” Korsgaard said. “They also don't have another suspect,” Camilo said. “They just want to close the case entirely.” Nathan turned to Reid. “You swear you didn't know about this?” “No, not even a bit,” Reid insisted. “Honestly, I grieved for him too. When we met him those months ago, I saw a broken man trying to survive but unable to really live his life. I was hoping you two could at least help each other.” Nathan grit his teeth and turned back to his case workers. “Why did I have to be kept in the dark?” “That would be for your protection, Nathan,” Camilo said. “The FBI is very adamant that the Canadian government participate with them and share our catalogue of registered alternative persons. They want us to but, for the most part, we don't have to and we don't want to, because their policies around the handling of such people conflicts with ours as it strips a lot more of your rights from you. If you were to be associated with Kent around the time of his transfer, we would have been required to submit your information to the FBI, including the status of your condition and all our information on your children as well.” “But that should've been my choice, don't you think?” Nathan argued. “If you just kept me up to date… I would have participated willingly.” “It's all procedure,” Camilo explained. “Kent didn't even know what the plan was until he was dropped off up north.” Dax squeezed Nathan’s arm. “At the end of the day, it already happened. And Kent's alive. That's good, right?” Nathan just folded his arms. “…I'm glad he's alive… You know, good for him, I guess. I just…this changes everything…” Camilo reached out and placed a hand on Nathan's. “I am very sorry that we had to keep this from you. But please try to see the brighter side of this. You have someone out there with a similar condition to yours. You can ask him for help and any insight into what’s been happening. And we know for a fact Kent wants to see the twins.” Nathan frowned. “…I don't even know if I want to involve them in this.” “Nathan, they're his kids,” Dax said, a bit alarmed. “So? They're my kids first,” Nathan said. “I did everything… I carried them alone. He didn't even want me to have them.” “He was scared,” Reid chimed in. “You know he was worried about leaving behind kids with a legacy like his. He didn't want them to grow up thinking their father is a murderer.” “As if I would let them think that,” Nathan huffed. “Well, with a new identity, he doesn't have to be that other guy,” Reid said. “It's up to you, Nathan,” Camilo said. “If you'd like to see Kent, with or without the twins, we can arrange transport. You just let Korsgaard know.” “Can't I just call him?” Nathan asked. “Well, you can try,” Camilo said. “He doesn't like to answer us when we call. We have a few agents that circulate around there that we can call but he doesn't go near them. He’s not allowed to leave the area so we have to check up on him regularly, but he doesn’t interact with out agents.” Reid piped up again. “I think a visit up north would give you a good break. And it’s summer too so the weather should be quite nice.” Nathan looked down, his arms crossed over his stomach. “...I'll go up there then...” He then looked to Dax. “You'll come with me, right?” “Of course!” Dax rubbed Nathan's back. “We could make it a small vacation.” Nathan nodded. “Okay...” He looked to Camilo again. “How soon could we go?” “We could probably arrange a flight for you as soon as tomorrow, it's up to your availability,” Camilo said. “We'll have to arrange for Wano to stay here first...” Nathan said. “And someone has to watch the kids.” “Maybe this weekend coming up?” Dax suggested. “Nari could sit, perhaps.” “Nari's in Europe,” Nathan reminded. “Shit, you're right... And Samara doesn't like babies...” Dax considered. “I could watch them,” Korsgaard offered. Nathan straightened up. “You could? No, I couldn't ask you to do that...” “You're not. I'm offering,” Korsgaard stated. “Korsgaard’s really good with kids,” Camilo backed up. “Raised two, and Eris loves him.” “Yeah, but... Are you good with wild animals?” Nathan said. “I have no idea if they'll stay human for you...” Korsgaard shrugged. “I like animals. Maya might as well be one...” “Uh, well...” Nathan looked to Dax. Dax shrugged. “I wouldn't say no if he's offering. I still think we should be bringing the kids, but it's all up to you.” Nathan nodded. “…Okay, sure. Korsgaard, if you'll watch the twins for us, I'd be very grateful.” Korsgaard gave a nod. “No problem.” “We'll just go...two nights?” Nathan suggested. “Is that reasonable?” “Sounds good to me,” Camilo said getting out his tablet. “So, Friday then, we’ll arrange a flight with a field agent to go along with you. You'll be back Sunday night.” Nathan nodded again. “Yeah, okay. Let's do it. Thank you...” “Don’t mention it,” Camilo said. “We owe this to you.”

#lore #Nathan #Dax #Reid #Camilo #Korsgaard #werewolf

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the-friendly-struggling-writer · 4 years

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The Wandering Side - Chapter 2

Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Characters:

Logic | Logan Sanders

Anxiety | Virgil Sanders

Morality | Patton Sanders

Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders

Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders

Deceit Sanders

Original Side(s) (Sanders Sides)

Additional Tags:

Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides)

My First Fanfic

fluff i hope

My First Work in This Fandom

Domestic Fluff

remus gives gifts to everyone

Disney References

Movie Night

Sympathetic Deceit Sanders

Panic Attacks

Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders

Walking into the room I was greeted by the three other people that they had been talking about. One had the opposite outfit to Remus. Another one had a dark blue tie and glasses. The last one also had glasses and a grey jumper that hung around his shoulders.

As the rest of us came into the room. It was a very tense atmosphere. Me, Remus and Deceit on one side of the room. Virgil in the middle and the others, that I didn’t know their names yet on the other side.

To break the silence I said, “Hi, what are your names?” This seemed to snap everyone out of the standoff moment.

The one with the jumper was the one to jump to respond to the question. “Well kiddo, my name is Patton.” pointing to himself. “This one,” pointing to the other one with the glasses, “is Logan and he is Roman.” pointing to the last one on the right.

“Are Remus and Roman twins because their names are really similar and their outfits are opposites of each other?” I asked.

Everyone seemed surprised by my question. Well, they looked surprised at me.

They probably didn’t expect me to be so forward with any questions that I might have. “Kind of,” said Logan thinking about it. “They used to be one but then they split apart so they are now two separate sides. It happened when Thomas was about 8 or so.”

“Ok,” I replied, not wanting to ask about anything else at the time being.

The room clasped back into silence. “Are one of you going to explain what exactly is going on and how did you find them?” asked Logan since no one else seemed to be going to do it anytime soon. “I was having a walk in the subconscious and then I just stumbled upon them. So I took them back to mine and Remus’ room. But then we figured out it would be best if we talked with you guys. So we went to talk to Virgil first so he could help instead of surprising you all, so we could explain,” Deceit finished not wanting to let Patton, Logan and Roman know that he didn’t like their shouting.

“That was a smart move to make.” complemented Logan.

“So what are we going to do with them? Or at least figure out what to call them?” Remus asked struggling to stay calm and not burst out with something that the others would definitely not want to hear especially at this time while dealing with this.

While this conversation was going on. I had wandered over to sit in front of the TV that was playing a cartoon called Steven universe with my deer, bloodstains and all. It was a really good show.

After about 10 minutes of a discussion from the different sides, they then noticed that I wasn’t even paying attention to them or what they were saying. Apart from Remus who had joined me at the TV about 5 minutes ago, and was telling me about the darker things that happened in the show and when they were going to happen.

“Wait, where are they and Remus?” asked Deceit concerned to where we two could be and what trouble or not that we could be getting up to.

Everyone then went to go looking but before most of them could move Patton said” oh, there they before are,” looking towards the TV’s direction. “Why did you two wander off for?” Patton questioned.

“I wanted to watch something on the TV and Remus was talking to me,” I said confused. Why would they be worried about where I and Remus were?

“Ok then first things first,” said Logan wanting to figure out how to solve this problem. “Why don’t we come up with a name for you. So we don’t have to keep calling you they or the new side or something similar to that. Roman, Remus you are the creative ones why don’t you suggest something.”

“How about, Rivera, or Crystal or Michael?” Roman suggested. After a shake of my head, Remus started suggesting names.

“Or what about moggan, or frost,” \Remus was suggesting. After another shake of my head, he was saying names like water from a tap. “What about Clouds, or Wander or space.” At this point, Remus was becoming desperate to find one and Roman was still thinking.

“I like Wander,” I said quietly.

As soon as I had said that I realized that he had managed to come up with something that I liked. “Ok, that’s good. Now we have got a name for you.” Logan said.

“So what do we do now?” asked Patton.

“Well if Thomas’ mind-made,” Logan paused for a moment,' 'Wander,” getting used to the taste of the word on his tongue, ”so there should be a room for them. There should definitely be one because of how long they have been out here.”

“So let’s go find it then. It shall be a great adventure,” Roman burst out.

“Roman we are only going to find a room.” Logan sighed.

“Well, I shall make it an adventure then.” “Why don’t Wander go first? They might be able to find it easier than us.” Deceit said.

“Ok,” I said as I started to walk to the direction that felt the most right. The hall that I went down was a different one that I had been in before. The hall was the same as the other one but this one had strips of the different colours of the rainbow on the wall instead of just the green paint that was before.

I looked to my right and there didn’t seem that there was anything there just more of the rainbow wall. Then I noticed it, a small handle on the wall. I then knew that this was my room. It just felt right.

Placing my hand on the door handle and I pulled the door open and I stepped inside. I wouldn’t even know where to start describing the room if someone had asked me. Objects littered my room from books to CDs and films to little toys and teddies lining the wooden shelves. The small bed was pushed into the corner and pillows are stacked way up high.

“Wow. this is so cool,” I said staring in shock and awe.

“Hey, this room is similar to mine,” Patton commented as the rest of the sides walked into the tiny room.

“There's so much stuff that could be used as a”

“Remus,” Roman shouted to stop Remus from saying what he was going to say.

“What? I have been pretty good, haven’t I?” Remus questions them.

Compared to what he normally does. He had not been too bad.” Remus was just about to say something else but Logan interrupted him before he could talk. “But that does not mean that you can go shouting everything that you think of,” he finished.

“So what do we do now then?” Deceit asked.

“It would be best if we give them some alone time so that they can figure some things are on their own,” Roman said.

“Alright then. I will come and get you all when it is dinner time.” Patton said.

Everyone replied with “ok”, “sure”, and “if I have to.” Apart from me because I was looking at a pile of pictures that the others hadn’t seen before. All of the others then soon wandered off to do what they were going to be doing until Patton made dinner.

Chapter 3

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts janus #ts remus #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #original character #original side #fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #franthehorsegirl's fanfics

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franthehorsegir · 5 years

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The Wandering Side chapter 2

To break the silence I said, “Hi, what are your names?” This seemed to snap everyone out of the standoff moment.

“Are Remus and Roman twins because their names are really similar and their outfits are opposites of each other?” I asked.

Everyone seemed surprised by my question. Well, they looked surprised at me.

“Ok,” I replied, not wanting to ask about anything else at the time being.

The room clasped back into silence. “Are one of you going to explain what exactly is going on and how did you find them?” asked Logan since no one else seemed to be going to do it anytime soon.

“I was having a walk in the subconscious and then I just stumbled upon them. So I took them back to mine and Remus’ room. But then we figured out it would be best if we talked with you guys. So we went to talk to Virgil first so he could help instead of surprising you all, so we could explain,” Deceit finished not wanting to let Patton, Logan and Roman know that he didn’t like their shouting.

“That was a smart move to make.” complemented Logan.

While this conversation was going on. I had wandered over to sit in front of the TV that was playing a cartoon called Steven universe with my deer, bloodstains and all. It was a really good show.

“Wait, where are they and Remus?” asked Deceit concerned to where we two could be and what trouble or not that we could be getting up to.

“I wanted to watch something on the TV and Remus was talking to me,” I said confused. Why would they be worried about where I and Remus were?

“How about, Rivera, or Crystal or Michael?” Roman suggested. After a shake of my head, Remus started suggesting names.

“I like Wander,” I said quietly.

As soon as I had said that I realized that he had managed to come up with something that I liked. “Ok, that’s good. Now we have got a name for you.” Logan said.

“So what do we do now?” asked Patton.

“So let’s go find it then. It shall be a great adventure,” Roman burst out.

“Roman we are only going to find a room.” Logan sighed.

“Well, I shall make it an adventure then.”

“Why don’t Wander go first? They might be able to find it easier than us.” Deceit said.

“Wow. this is so cool,” I said staring in shock and awe.

“Hey, this room is similar to mine,” Patton commented as the rest of the sides walked into the tiny room.

“There's so much stuff that could be used as a”

“Remus,” Roman shouted to stop Remus from saying what he was going to say.

“What? I have been pretty good, haven’t I?” Remus questions them.

“So what do we do now then?” Deceit asked.

“It would be best if we give them some alone time so that they can figure some things are on their own,” Roman said.

“Alright then. I will come and get you all when it is dinner time.” Patton said.

Everyone replied with “ok”, “sure”, and “if I have to.” Apart from me because I was looking at a pile of pictures that the others hadn’t seen before.

All of the others then soon wandered off to do what they were going to be doing until Patton made dinner.

chapter 1 https://franthehorsegir.tumblr.com/post/190952564846/the-wandering-side-chapter-1

#sanders sides #fanfic #the wandering side #original side

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dikanamai · 6 years

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One of my favorite things about Coco is it's that kind of story you can "read" in different levels. I mean, the main plot didn't surprise me when I watched the movie for the first time, but I didn't care the slightest, because I enjoyed A LOT the way everything was being set: how the key information was never said aloud, how the characters' path crossed several times without actually meeting, all the misunderstandings here and there… In a way, it was like if there was another story happening behind the scenes.

For example, one of those moments I love the most is Poco Loco scene. When the Rivera family gets to Plaza de la Cruz looking for Miguel, he and Héctor are performing on the stage and nobody seems to notice. Julio, Rosita and Victoria know nothing about Héctor, I suppose the twins got used to ignore his music too, but Imelda? Imelda would've noticed for sure. It was her song, after all. But she's the only one that didn't enter the plaza.

And if you look closely…

She did actually take a few steps towards the plaza, but then Héctor starts singing his verses of Poco Loco and she immediately faces the stage (actually, the twins are also looking at the stage quite shockingly, tbh; at least, one of them). The next thing we know is she has vanished. I like to think she saw him performing and then flew, but the movie couldn't show us her actual reaction, because (by then) we didn't know who Héctor actually was yet.

Another example I like a lot: there are many people that think the twins don't recognize/know anything about Héctor in the Land of the Dead, but look at the bridge scene.

One of the twins is smiling when Héctor shows up disguised as Frida. Why the hell is he smiling like that, when just a moment before they were all stressed about Imelda's and Miguel's situation? And it's a smug smile, like if he (Felipe or Óscar) was suppressing a chuckle ("So it's Frida this year, eh? Come on, Héctor"). But look how cleverly the frame of the scene is set, so his eyes are out of sight and we don't know where that twin is looking at exactly. As far as we know, he could've been lost in his thoughts or he could've spotted his brother in law.

And in the next moment, when Héctor manages to cross and runs to the bridge…

They're whispering! He's telling something to his brother and this is smiling too!

"There he goes again" "Pobre diablo" "I'm glad Imelda's not here to witness this" "It would be the icing on the cake…"

We will never know what are the twins doing or talking about, it's something out of our reach; but that's the magic of this kind of details. You can imagine whatever you want, and Coco is full of moments like these.

Recently, I've also noticed the faces of Rosa and Abel while the family is scolding Miguel after finding out his hideout. She looks concerned.

He looks shocked when Miguel's talking about Ernesto.

And when Elena is about to smash the guitar, Abel's not surprised, he's in pain.

Now I wonder for how long these two kids have also been loving music in secret, and if they weren’t caught just because they were better at hiding it than Miguel.

#coco #pixar coco #coco analysis #imelda rivera #tío oscar #tío felipe #hector rivera #prima rosa #primo abel #this is why I never get tired of watching Coco #I have the feeling there are many things happening around Miguel #but he doesn't notice

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a-secondhand-sorrow · 6 years

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take my hand and let it spin

So this is... quite different from what I usually write.

This will be a series of around 10 (ish? we’ll see) kind of standalone pieces, although they make much more sense when read in order.

title from “temporary love” by Ben platt

prompt found here

***

Tally marks were a blessing and a curse.

From the earliest ages, you learned about the tally marks. As a child, you’d gaze at the wrists of your teachers or parents, wondering what the stories were behind each red line, trying to figure out if the black tallies were anyone you’d known, or staring with a kind of quiet apprehension at the thin, white scars few carried.

So it starts like this; Evan’s father gets a new tally mark.

For Evan, tally marks were... complicated. He’d used to love tracing the marks on his parents’ wrists; Heidi had two red tally marks that had linked themselves in his mind, almost like twins, standing before the deeper, black tally that she shared with his father. And his father’s tallies were more complicated; there were more of them, a few red and a few black, one white scar standing out starkly amongst them, before the final black tally mark he shared with Heidi. Falls in love quickly, Evan could swear he remembered Heidi saying with a smile or a laugh, but this time it’s lasted.

It didn’t, really. It lasted for longer than his other loves, sure, but when Evan was six years old he saw the edge of a new red tally mark peeking out from his father’s sleeve, and after his seventh birthday, he could tell it had turned black. Shortly afterwards, Heidi saw it, and a few weeks later—mid-February, most likely—the U-HAUL truck pulled into his driveway, and then out, taking his father and his new black tally mark with him.

Tally marks never held the same meaning for him after that.

Through most of middle and high school, things stayed the same. Tally marks were rare, that young. Of course, a few started cropping up around fourteen or fifteen, but they were almost taboo; love at such a young age was almost laughable. Unlike a lot of adults, who wore their hearts on their sleeves-literally-and let their marks show, many of them would cover up their tally wrists as much as possible.

(Around freshman year, Jared started to wear more long sleeves. Evan couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Jared’s wrist. He’d wanted to ask him about it, but even though they’d been friends for forever, really, asking about someone’s tallies was touchy, and Evan didn’t want to disturb their familiar peace.)

(Heidi, too, covered up her tallies: it had started right after Evan’s father left, and he suspected that it was too painful for her to be reminded of her past loves.)

Evan didn’t care much for tallies. His wrist was clear, just like most fifteen year olds, and he’d soured to the idea after his father’s new tally.

But at the end of sophomore year, indigo-streaked-hair freshman Zoe Murphy took stage with the jazz band at their end-of-school concert. Evan had never really noticed jazz band, but Zoe-the confident set of her shoulders, her slightly more nervous grip on her guitar, and the small, sweet smile that took hold of her features when she relaxed into the song-drew his attention and sent his heart racing. He started noticing her more after that—dancing her heart out at a school dance, head bent over a table in the library while studying, a flash of her hair in the hallway as she ran to get to her friends. And nothing else came of it, since he was too afraid to talk to her; he was left with a fluttering heart and her smile filling his dreams, and nothing more.

Summer came and went. Jared found out about his crush and teased him accordingly. The school year rolled back around, and Evan resigned himself to a stressful, empty junior year.

Until Zoe came up to him, barely a week into school.

“Hey-it’s Evan, right?”

Startled-partially by anyone speaking to him, partially because he was becoming very flustered because holy shit she’s even prettier up close-Evan only said “Evan?” which came out more as a question than anything else.

Her brows furrowed, and he could practically feel the apology radiating off of her. “That’s...your name? Shit, I’m sorry if I’m wrong-”

“No, no-Evan. Hansen. Evan Hansen, that’s me, God I’m sorry, that’s so annoying.”

“What is?” The indigo had faded from her hair over the summer; all that was left was a few vaguely purple strands.

“Oh, well, sorry, I just repeated my name when you asked me if that was my name and that’s so annoying when people do that, so I’m sorry-”

“You say sorry a lot,” she noted, a twinkle of humor in her eyes.

He’d never noticed how pretty her eyes were before, different flecks of gold in their warm brown depths.

“Uh-sorry.”

At that she actually laughed. Evan didn’t think he’d ever heard anything as beautiful as her laugh-it was warm and genuine, filling the slightly-awkward air around them with a sweeter feeling.

He was a little taken aback when he realized he’d do anything to hear that laugh again.

“I’m Zoe. Murphy,” she added, almost as an afterthought, sticking her hand out for him to shake.

He never learned the exact reason Zoe had come up to him that day, but when she’d departed with a “you’re not too bad, Evan Hansen,” he was left with a stupid grin on his face and a rapidly beating heart.

That hadn’t been the end of it. The next Monday, he’d been waiting for Jared to arrive at their normal lunch spot when a familiar person slid across from him at the table.

“Hey, Evan Hansen.”

His heart skipped a beat, and he returned her eye contact with a too-broad smile. “Hey, Zoe Murphy.”

“So, what’re you up to waiting here? Plotting world domination?” She cracked open a water bottle as she said this, fixing him with a look that she may have actually given him if she thought he was considering world domination

“Waiting for Jared, mostly.”

“I see. Keep your secrets, then,” she joked, a small smile on her face.

It was easier to talk with Zoe than he expected.

“Ugh,” she started, stabbing at a noodle from a tupperware, “my English teacher-did you have Howard last year?” After securing a nod from Evan, along with a sympathetic groan, she continued, “yeah, he’s already assigned an essay. Eight hundred words on the diction and possible motifs appearing in The Great Gatsby, even though we’re only like, ten pages in.”

“Howard is... a tough teacher. His creative writing unit is better, though, even though it’s at the end of the year. He expects less from it.”

“I don’t even want to know what the rest of the year is gonna be like.”

“I wish I could tell you it was gonna get better, but...”

Zoe merely grimaced, stabbing at another noodle. “Yikes. You said the creative writing was better, though, right? Do you like writing?”

Evan shrugged, ignoring how his cheeks began to color. “I like it better than most of English.”

“Are you good? I’ve tried my hand at writing, but it always turns out like a first grader’s journal.”

Evan laughed a little at this and shrugged, fidgeting hands returning to the table. “Not really. I’m okay.”

“Tree Boy’s being modest,” a new voice said, and as Evan turned he could see Jared approaching the table. Slapping his tray down on the table, Jared added, “Charles Dickens’ ghost would probably weep with joy if he could see Evan’s writing.”

Zoe smiled at this new development, even as Evan started with “oh, no, I’m really not that good-”

“Hey, trust your slightly-assholic-friend.” Zoe interjected.

“I reject the notion,” Jared retorted, “that I am at all an asshole.”

“You were in jazz band in middle school, right? Sat behind the guitars?” Zoe’s smile had dropped, and she was staring Jared down.

He seemed taken aback. “Uh...yes?”

“So you’d remember the incident with Cindy Rivera and the jar of tomato sauce?”

Jared stared at her blankly for a moment. “How the fuck did you remember that?”

Evan was truly lost. “What-”

“Oh, I remember everything,” Zoe said brightly once again, turning back to Evan. She bumped her hand lightly against his, still holding the fork. “Maybe I could see your writing sometime?”

Evan’s heart felt like it could burst.

That became their new normal, over the coming days and weeks. Lunches were spent together, jokes were formed, the occasional car ride was shared. And if Evan’s feelings grew to the point where he could barely think of anything but Zoe? He did his best to hide it.

So no, it actually started like this: Evan gets a red tally mark and never dreams it could turn black.

That is, until it does.

He awoke one morning, still junior year, and caught sight, on his formerly bare wrist, of one lone, red tally mark, staring up at him.

He started freaking out almost immediately. He was only sixteen; how could he be in love? What if Zoe hated him for it? What if she didn’t feel remotely the same way?

And his father’s tally marks stood out in his mind. They were an image that scared him more than anything. Would Evan turn out to be just like him-falling in love too easily, never knowing who he could hurt?

So it’s long sleeves and dodging one-on-one time with Zoe for the rest of the year.

No matter how much he tries to hide it, or suppress it, Evan can’t stop the somersaults his stomach does when Zoe smiles at him (which she does a lot) or how his heart flutters when he makes her laugh (which only happens slightly less) or how sometimes, he can barely breathe when he’s kept up at night thinking about her (which he does more than he would care to admit.)

He still can’t help but feel bad for pulling back so much, when he can tell it hurts her, sometimes.

(Is everything okay? she asks, and Evan can’t help the sharp intake of breath he takes when she turns to him, genuine concern written on her features.

Instead he says Oh yeah, I’m fine, why?

She bites her bottom lip, a habit he’s noticed her doing when she’s nervous or upset. Nothing, it’s just-you’ve seemed more withdrawn lately, and I wasn’t sure if it was something I did.

And it takes everything in him, right then and there, to not blurt out the whole story. Anything to stop her from looking so sad. But he takes a deep breath, and starts over. What? No, no, it’s not-look, I promise you, there’s nothing you could do that would-it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault. It’s just me, he wants to say. It’s all my fault, for falling in love with you when I know you’ll never fall in love with me.

She looks up at him, still chewing on her bottom lip. He can’t quite read the expression on her face. Okay, she says. Okay.)

One day, Jared’s parents force him on a last-minute Family Bonding trip, so it’s just him and Zoe are hanging out in her basement, both in beanbags in the floor. Parks and Rec is on, even though they’ve both seen it a million times, and Connor had even hung out with them for a little while before retreating back into his room.

Suddenly Zoe said, “oh my God, you need to see this,” and leaned over onto Evan’s beanbag, holding her phone up to his face. On it was the world’s tiniest hedgehog wearing an even tinier sweater with a tree embroidered on it and damn, if that wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen. (It’s not, though; as he snuck a glance at Zoe’s face when he was sure she’s focused on the hedgehog, he thought that expression of pure joy on her was even cuter.)

She broke her gaze away to look at him, still grinning dopily in a way that only a post-hedgehog endorphin rush can cause (even though that smile wasn’t meant for him, his lungs still constricted and he had to fight to keep an identical one from spreading to his face), she said “he’s your brother, Ev’. He loves trees too.”

And then Evan did smile, trying to think up some reply other than do you know how pretty your smile is or something similar because dammit, Evan, she’ll never like you like that, don’t ruin what you have.

(The tally mark on his wrist seemed to burn through his sleeve, and he suddenly felt self conscious.)

They were still looking at each other, but something felt different, then. The air was charged with a kind of unfelt electricity, a tangible feeling that was just playing at the top of his tongue.

And he noticed, once again, the gold flakes in Zoe’s eyes, the deep layers of brown and lighter gray in them, just how striking they were staring into his own, almost like she can see every thought he has. He hopes he wasn’t mistaken, because he could swear he saw those eyes darting down every few seconds towards his lips, and he knew he was doing he same thing, no matter how he tried to stop.

The world was frozen, but they leaned almost imperceptibly closer to each other, and the moment was suspended in time as a what if-

Until Leslie and Ann’s fight cut through the air suddenly, their drunken shouting draining whatever charge there had been to the air, and even though there was still distance between them they spring back onto their beanbags, desperate to pretend that whatever the hell that was hadn’t happened.

And that’s the end of it, until it isn’t.

It (re)starts like this; Evan wakes up at the beginning of senior year, and the tally mark was black instead of red (did it just turn or had it been like that for a long time?), and he thinks he might actually burst.

Instead, he took a sip of water and attempted to clear his head, which might have worked if not for the text that lit up his phone shortly after he got his bearings.

It was from Zoe.

so-we should probably talk, right?

And so it really starts like-no, that’s not the start.

It’s one step on a road for them, but it’s far from the start.

It continues where Evan meets Zoe in Ellison Park, and there’s a kind of nervousness hanging around them both, but then Zoe caught his eye and smiled and everything inside of him stilled, because if Zoe’s there to smile at him then everything will be okay.

She always made him quiet, in the best way.

Zoe stood, and Evan noticed that she was biting her lip again, something so quintessentially Zoe that he could barely repress a shout that builds its way through his throat that says I love her and she loves me! But luckily he managed it, since that’s effectively what they’re there to talk about.

Evan barely walked up to her and managed a breathless hey before Zoe grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down slightly to kiss him.

He actually thought he had died and gone to heaven for that first second, before he regained his memory and could actually process holy shit Zoe Murphy is kissing me I’m kissing Zoe Murphy we’re kissing holy shit.

Far too soon, Zoe pulled back and lets go of his shirt, stepping away a little. Her cheeks were colored red and she quickly ran a hand over her face, across the freckles he came to love so much. She smiled that unbelievable smile, but she paused for a moment, starting to-apologize? “I’m really sorry, I know we came her to talk, but I’ve wanted to do that for so long and I-”

Evan cut her off by closing the distance between them, cupping her cheek, and pressing his lips to hers again.

She wraps her arms around his neck almost immediately, melting into the kiss, and Evan wrapped his other arm around her lower back. He pulled away for another moment, but this time only to whisper “I love you”-which, in a world where love wasn’t visible, may seem too soon, but here became the most natural progression-and smile so hard he wondered if he’d ever stop smiling when she whispered back “I love you too.”

Tracing a thumb over her cheek, mapping the freckles like stars, Evan took a moment just to appreciate where he was right then, finally with the girl he loved above all else, before swooping in for another kiss.

It started like this; Evan believed in love again.

#soulmate au #bandtrees #dear evan hansen #deh #evan hansen #zoe murphy #my love #my fanfic #zoevan #my works #some things are meant to be #my series #deh fanfic #jared kleinman

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makingthetwinsrelevant-blog · 5 years

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Why this year is different (although 5 game series are often skewed by sample size and who knows if it will even matter)

I’ve heard a lot of commentary about the Twins season. None of it is too optimistic about their prospects in the playoffs, and that’s understandable. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLIt6xGSqek

That link is the game following the last playoff win in franchise history. It boils down to one mistake, leaving Joe Nathan to try for a third inning. Since then and including that game, the Twins are 0-13, with 10 of those losses coming against the Yankees, who the Twins will play this year for the Division series. But the Nathan mistake isn’t why we lost that series, nor is the Torii Hunter missed catch in ‘06 the reason we lost that series.

A lot of folks think we’re cursed, and that certainly would work as a narrative. A-Rod’s RBI double in 2004, or his home run in ’09 preceding Texiera’s walk-off. Curtis Granderson’s triple in ’10 comes to mind. But everything must come to an end- the curse of the Bambino did, as did the Cubs’, and the Twins aren’t going to lose every playoff game for the rest of their existence. It starts with one game, and I think the 2019 squad is built to do that. Here’s why:

2002 Twins 86-75

2003 Twins 85-77

2004 Twins 87-75

2006 Twins 93-69

2009 Twins 86-77

2010 Twins 92-70

2017 Twins 83-79

2019 Twins 98-64

These are the Pythagorean records for all Twins playoff teams since I have been conscious, and it really validates what I stress when I talk about the 2019 Twins, which is that this is the first team I’ve ever seen that is actually GOOD. Like good good. ALCS good. Which is why we can beat the Yankees this year, legitimately, or at least take it to game 5. Let me explain:

2002-2018: From Rick Reed to Addison Reed

The 2002 team had no fear. The playoffs were brand new and they won a weak AL Central with solid contributions from tons of guys- no mid 2010’s Detroit Tigers stars and scrubs BS here. 12 guys had more than 2 bWAR (a measure of overall value from baseballreference.com- 0 means totally replaceable, anything above 5 means a star player), including a career year for J.C Romero, who as a lefty pitched in 81 innings, allowing a total of 17 runs, with 3 home runs, 62 hits. bWAR for his season was 3.6. We also got nice above average seasons from Corey Koskie (How good could he have been not under the Twins slap hitting tutelage and minus his later concussion issues?), Bobby Kielty, Tony Fiore (91 good innings out of the pen), Kyle Lohse, Dustan Mohr; even Rick Reed was pretty good that year. The Giants and the Angels were better constructed teams, and it would have been a miracle for the Twins to go all the way that year. I couldn’t believe when they beat they A’s, and I couldn’t believe when Joe Mays shut the Angels down in Game 1. 8 innings, no runs and the Angels could not get a barrel to the ball to save their lives. We lost to the Angels because they were a better team (They won 99 games that year) but like the Astros in 2015, it was a good stepping stone for a solid core of guys.

The 2003 team was worse. There was no David Ortiz and only Brad Radke had an ERA+ (a measure of pitching that corrects for context, average score is 100) that was above average in our regular rotation. It was 101. Shannon Stewart and Johan Santana had to save the season and lift us over the White Sox* and Royals, who had a magical season 11 years before they meant to- they had prime Mike Sweeney and Carlos Beltran, but their #1 pitcher (as I recalled but had to confirm) was Darrell May, who had a legitimately good season but would never do THAT again.

*I’m pretty sure the White Sox were the better team that year. They had prime Bartolo, Mark Buehrle, early ok Jon Garland and that one of year of Esteban Loaiza where he almost won the CY Young (226.1 innings of 2.90 ERA ball with a k rate of 8.2, his career k rate was 5.9). They also had prime Magglio Ordonez and Carlos Lee, and this was one of the years in the oughts where Frank Thomas stayed together and hit 42 bombs.

But the Twins prevailed with Shannon Stewart magic plus solid years from Mientkiewicz, Koskie and Pierzynski, won Game 1 against the Yankees because we let Johan Santana free (for 4 innings, as that was the game where he didn’t eat enough potassium and cramped out of the game), and then got swept the rest of the way, getting shut down by Andy Pettite Roger Clemens and David Wells. It was kind of an accidental bullpen game in game 1, but more on that later.

The ‘04 Twins went back to being pitching dominant, with the first year of full season Johan (and his best year) and Joe Nathan joining the fold along with lights out Juan Rincon (watch him strike out Jorge Posada in the 8th in game 2). Radke was great, and Carlos Silva soaked up the rest. If Joe Mauer hadn’t gotten hurt that team could have been something, because the lineup was rough and relied a lot on career year Lew Ford (more on that later). Doug Mientkiewicz, Jacque Jones, Christian Guzman and Henry Blanco all struggled to various degrees. Morneau provided a spark in the second half, taking over for Mientkiewicz at the trade deadline and hitting 19 bombs.

As I inferred, I put myself through watching game 2 of the ALDS against the Yankees (up 1-0) recently and everything that I remembered from it came rushing back: Koskie’s double against Rivera that would have scored 2 but bounced into the stands, instead tying the game at 5. Then Hunter’s big home run in the 12th, and Nathan to all the world looking like he was out of gas in his third inning of work in the 12th - with 1 out he walked Miguel Cairo as well as Jeter to bring up A-Rod. What I didn’t remember was that Nathan threw a decent slider off the plate down and away, and A-Rod showed why he was one of the top 5 hitters of his generation and almost hit it out, poking a ground rule double (were it a regular double it would have been a walk off) to tie the game. After intentionally walking Sheffield, J.C Romero got Hideki Matsui on a soft fly out to Jones in right, and a good throw would have gotten Jeter. That didn’t happen, and one Carlos Silva start and a Rincon implosion later the Twins were done. The Twins hit well in the series after not doing that all season, but two decisions cost them: leaving Nathan in obviously, and giving Carlos Silva (and Kyle Lohse) a start. The lineup had gotten hot, but archaic ideas about how to use pitching in the playoffs cost them big- although those ideas wouldn’t truly be challenged until Craig Counsell took the Dodgers to 7 games in 2018.

I was jazzed about ’06. They had a good power and speed mix (On base percentages of Bartlett, Castillo and Punto: .367, .358, .352) with Morneau and Mauer both breaking out to post over 10 bWAR between them, Santana winning another Cy Young, and Francisco Liriano having his Greek tragedy. The bullpen was great, with Nathan having arguably his best year, Dennys Reyes giving up 5 runs the whole year and Rincon, Pat Neshek and Crain pitching in solidly.

But Barry Zito outdueled Santana in game 1, Mark Kotsay hit his inside the park home run on the ball Torii dove for but couldn’t keep in front in game 2 (right after we had tied the game with back to back jacks from Cuddyer and Morneau). And that was all the starting pitching we had- with Liriano done, and Boof Bonser pitching out of his mind in game 2, we had can’t-brush-his-teeth torn rotator cuff Brad Radke trying to gut his way through and running out of guts. And cartilage.

Maybe Craig Counsell or Kevin Cash could have made it work, but in 2006 there just wasn’t enough pitching.

In ’09 we had MVP Joe Mauer, Jason Kubel’s best year and Denard Span’s emergence. But the pitching relied a lot on Nick Blackburn and the mad rush to beat the Tigers in game 163 left us with Brian Duensing in game 1 against the Yankees. Brian Duensing was a nice pitcher that year, but he couldn’t handle that assignment. Game 2 was the Phil Cuzzi calling a fair ball foul game, the most errant umpiring call I know of next to the Armando Gallaraga perfect game disaster. Mauer singled anyway to start the 11th. So did Kubel and Cuddyer. Bases loaded, no outs, Delmon Young at the plate- he scaldes a line drive to Texiera at first for a loud out. Carlos Gomez grounds into a fielders choice at home, and Brendan Harris pops out. Kinda deserved that walkoff.

Who are you pitching with this team in a 7 game series anyway? And depth was an issue as well, otherwise Harris wouldn’t have come in for MATT TOLBERT, Gomez wouldn’t have hit with his .623 season OPS, and nor would Delmon with his .733. Blackburn and Pavano combined to go 12 innings, allowing 3 total runs between them in games 2 and 3, so even with those bonuses the fact that the team couldn’t even get to 4 games says a lot.

2010 could have been something, with a good offense led by Mauer and Thome, the one year Delmon Young was good, the year we had J.J Hardy and Orlando Hudson and Liriano had 200 k’s. But Morneau got his concussion, Nathan had Tommy John surgery, Kubel Cuddyer and Span all had bad years and it came down to Curtis Granderson hitting a clutch triple off of a cruising Liriano (The Twins led 3-0 going into the bottom of the 6th). Then the Twins realized that as nice as their seasons were, Carl Pavano and Duensing weren’t pitchers you rely on in the postseason- they pitched to contact and if their command wasn’t perfect they would get exposed. Guess what happened.

In 2017 the team wasn’t good. And they wouldn’t have made the playoffs if the Orioles, Angels and Royals didn’t all collapse while the Twins played .500 ball in September. Their starting pitching was average, with a great Ervin Santana season and a good Berrios one. But unlike the other teams on this list, the bullpen was suspect, with a not-quite-figured-out Ryan Pressly, sinker throwing Tyler Duffey and a Matt Belisle on the right side with a non-slider throwing Taylor Rogers on the left. Alan Busenitz and Trevor Hildenberger had career years but weren’t helpful in the Wild Card game, or really ever again.

The offense was the best of all the teams so far in a bit of foreshadowing, scoring 815 runs and featuring the last good Brian Dozier season, the start of Jorge Polanco busting out, and Joe Mauer having one last .300 season. Miguel Sano looked like a star for 3 months, then busted his shin and got a titanium rod inserted into it because he doesn’t care about baseball or something. Byron Buxton even had his first sustained period of excellence in the second half (and played 140 games!)

Relying on the back end of the rotation

Those are the 7 playoff teams of the millennium. And here are the Game 3 starters for each ALDS team starting with ’02:

Rick Reed

Kyle Lohse

Carlos Silva

Zombie Brad Radke

Carl Pavano

Brian Duensing

That group had a combined record of 0-6. This year the hope is that the new regime is smart enough to know that, even though they have 2 starters in Kyle Gibson and Martin Perez who are comparable to that group, and who tried hard and won double digit games, their best bet is to bullpen that game.

One aspect of the playoffs that teams are getting wise to but which have killed Clayton Kershaw in the past, is the inclination to “trust your guys” and “dance with the girl who you brought” or some other idiom about sticking with a certain pitcher out of loyalty or sense of obligation. Carlos Silva had a good ’04 season; of course Gardy would want to give him a playoff start. His results were quite a bit better than Kyle Gibson’s 2019.

But hitters hit .310/.342/.462 against Silva that year. You’re trusting your season to him continuing to get lucky. He gave up 10 hits and the series swung 2-1 to the Yankees.

Results aren’t predictive

What we have in 2019 is the possibility that the Twins brass has learned from the mistakes of the past. You saw it in 2017 when they traded our closer, Brandon Kintzler, at the trade deadline. They knew that despite what the results showed, the team wasn’t good. Even though they got hot and made the WC game, they knew it wasn’t sustainable yet, and didn’t go crazy on free agents or win-now trades.

What the Levine Falvey regime did was take an objective view of their assets (is Mike Morin’s success sutainable? No? Ok then I won’t pitch him in the 7th inning of a playoff game. In fact, I’ll let him be the Phillies problem). They also threw all the “Twins way” shit out the window. No more getting benched for not going the other way, or for trying to hit a home run. And I know that point of view is very much a feeling and not really tangible- something inferred from David Ortiz’s comments years ago, a general sense watching games announced by Dick Bremer and Bert Blyleven, that power is nice but luxurious, as though wanting it too badly should be a sin. And then you have Joe Mauer, who embodied every aspect of that feeling- a guy who looked for his whole career like he could hit home runs, but didn’t because he wasn’t flashy, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself and must have believed that slapping singles and doubles to left field would be a more productive route in the end.

Here’s the big secret about Joe Mauer: As talented as he was- as a catcher, in his general coordination, in his eye at the plate, and his ability to slap an RBI single in some key spots for 14 years, he was kind of a moron. Seemed like he was a nice guy. But he has never in his life said anything remotely close to insightful and I truly believe that he earnestly and wrongly thought he could best serve his team by staying behind the ball and slapping it to left field. He was probably told that from a young age.

He mistook an illusion for a reality, and so did the Twins for 51 years. Every color guy on every team’s broadcast will talk about the importance of the fundamentals, getting the guy over, laying down a good bunt and going the other way. They will talk up players who do that for eternity, and constantly lament how the game isn’t played that way anymore. To every team trying to win, this is taken with a big fucking grain of Morton brand industrial sidewalk salt. They want 2-3 guys like that. To the Twins it was religion. They wanted 12-15 guys like that. They wanted Matt Tolbert, Nick Punto, Denny Hocking and Juan Castro. The did NOT want J.J Hardy or David Ortiz.

This has changed, hopefully, and with Mauer gone, it may have rinsed away completely. We set the freaking home run record. Mitch Garver openly admits he is trying to hit home runs. Max Kepler found out his power is to the pull side. Jorge Polanco found out he could take a rip early in the count. It’s all new; it’s all different. And I’m not saying the Twins will beat the Yankees in the first round because of this philosophy shift. What I am saying is that the 2019 Twins are NOT:

A Cinderella team getting their feet wet around 12 slightly above average guys (2002)

A decent offense with no pitching plus Shannon Stewart (2003)

A great pitching staff 1-2 with an average offense that gave starts to Carlos Silva and Kyle Lohse in the playoffs (2004)

A team with Boof Bonser as its #2 (2006)

A team that relied heavily on Blackburn, Pavano and Duensing in playoff games (2009 and 2010)

A lucky team with no bullpen and 1.5 starters (2017)

So maybe they will.

What’s different now

The best team out of the prior playoff teams is probably the ’04 team, whose struggling offense didn’t struggle in the playoffs. And with Santana being the best and Radke being HIS best, a modern manager could have used their decent bullpen to build something.

Now imagine the ’04 team, except their offense is much better. MUCH better. And despite having only two effective starters, can bullpen their way to wins with a pen that goes 6-7 deep. And unlike a Tony Fiore or a Ron Mahay, or a Matt Capps or Alex Burnett, this bullpen does stuff you can’t fake- stuff you can’t luck your way into.

Opponents are hitting .157/.223/.245 against Tyler Duffey in the second half.

They’re hitting .159/.220/.354 against Trevor May

(Both those guys were good in the first half, too)

Taylor Rogers gave up a .225/.273/.353 line for the year

To my count there are 9 relievers that can be counted on in different spots- Rogers, Duffey, May, Romo, Littell, Stashak, Dobnak, Graterol and Smeltzer (by different spots I mean that Rocco won’t throw Smeltzer into the 8th inning of a tie game to face Aaron Judge).

That depth can be leveraged to overcome the loss of Michael Pineda, and the fact that Berrios and Odorizzi are no locks to be effective. Stashak and Smeltzer can both give you 3 innings of effective mop-up duty that keep games close, and allows the offense to come back by exploiting New York’s middling starting pitching, and mercurial late inning relief (Namely Britton, Green and Ottavino).

How to cope when Lew Ford leads your team in total bases

Almost as importantly, the offense isn’t going to need guys who had career years to continue thriving in the post when they were clearly playing above their true talent level. Lew Ford carried the ’04 team at times, but he was still Lew Ford, and he showed it against the Yankees and for the rest of his career. Same with Nick Punto in ‘06. Nelson Cruz is a force who scares the Royals as much as the Yankees.

Mitch Garver didn’t hot streak his way into a 1000 OPS; he’s kept it above .919 since April 9th. Check his game log.

These guys are actually good. So is Max Kepler, who I hope is ok. You don’t hit 36 bombs with reverse platoon splits by accident.

Marwin Gonzalez isn’t a great hitter but I trust he’ll take a good at bat when we need him too. You’ll appreciate that when you watch rookie Jason Kubel swing at two straight pitches at his eyes against Rivera in ’04.

Eddie Rosario is the wild card, and teams NEED* a wild card:

*Delmon Young on the Tigers, Yasiel Puig on the Dodgers, Alfonso Soriano on the Yankees, Eric Byrnes on the Diamondbacks. Rafael Devers for the Red Sox last year. That’s Rosario. Everyone needs an underachiever from the regular season to come up in the post.

Rosario, Polanco, Garver, Cruz, Sano and Kepler could all be game changing offensive players in a short series, which is not a quantity we’ve seen since Morneau went down with his concussion in ’10.

There’s no curse, the Yankees just exploited an obvious weakness of the Twins 4.5 separate times. That weaknesses boiled down to smoke and mirrors results that translated to good regular season stats, which led to Terry Ryan and Gardy trusting those results to be predictive. The 2019 team wasn’t built that way, otherwise Brandon Kintzler might still be part of it. The bullpen will have to perform for a lot of innings, the lineup will have to score, and one of Berrios and Odorizzi will have to perform to or above his talent level. As likely as it has ever been, this team could, say it with me here- take it to a game 5.

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callunavulgari · 6 years

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TOP 25 FICS OF 2018

1. A Cornstalk Fiddle by @notbecauseofvictories | Devil Went Down To Georgia | The Devil/Johnny | 17k

Where Johnny goes, the Devil follows; where Johnny goes, the Devil is already there.

Heather Says: So. I never thought that my favorite fic of the entire year would be a fic written about a song - and one that I don’t even particularly like - but here I am. I read this fic the same night that I finally broke down and watched Moonlight, and ended up listening to Moonlight’s End Credits and Hello Stranger by Barbara Lewis on repeat while I finished that first chapter on my back porch. This is that perfectly atmospheric fic that you’ll find maybe once every ten years and could probably sustain you on its memory for just as long.

2. Work of All Saints by @kaikamahine | Coco | Imelda/Hector/Ernesto | 210k

Imelda Rivera (b. 1899 - d. 1969), a story that includes but is not limited to: the finest music school this side of the Santo Domingo, three traveling musicians and the mess they made of love, the twice-cursed assassination of Venustiano Carranza, all the patron saints, and ninety-six ways a man can try to cross a bridge.

Heather Says: This story blew my entire mind. It was lovely, and tragic, and hilarious, and everything that a good novel should be. The parts of this fic that map out the unseen lives of Imelda, Hector, and Ernesto, that hidden backstory that a movie can only hint about, were exquisite to the point that I was afraid getting to the point where, well, they die, would be a letdown. It really wasn’t. If anything, the story managed to get richer as it went along, until suddenly you’re in a room sobbing into a pillow at four in the morning and have to be awake in four hours. No regrets.

3. Under the Covers by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 87k

Steve is (maybe) a little bit still in love with Nancy Wheeler and (maybe) trying to figure himself out-- between the night terrors and the babysitting and the general weirdness that is Hawkins, Indiana-- before he graduates.

Billy Hargrove fits in there somewhere (probably).

Heather Says: Under the Covers was the first Harringrove fic that actually kicked me over the edge from ‘eh this ship looks like it would have good hate sex’ and into full-fledged believer. It’s an intricately crafted look into the world of Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington post-season two and it is absolutely glorious.

4. Bloody Ruin by esama | Castlevania | Alucard/Trevor | 37k

Vampire hunter and a vampire try to get along.

Heather Says: Written before season two came out, this was one of those fics that I clicked on because the pairing interested me and I wanted to see how it worked. It did not disappoint, and even after I delved through the tag on ao3 after I marathoned season two, this is still my favorite.

5. a road less traveled and a life less led by Azzandra | Dishonored | Billie & The Outsider | 9k

She took him out of the Void, as promised. And then she kept him, she supposed.

Heather Says: You know all that fanart that started cropping up after Death of the Outsider came out? The ones where Billie and the Outsider crept around Dunwall or Karnaca stealing fish and safes and graffiti-ing buildings? The ones with that found family vibe? Yeah. This fic scratches the same itch that all that art did.

6. But I’m Not There Yet by sarahyyy | Yuri On Ice | Yuri/Otabek | 71k

“Are you not going to read the article?” she asks, flopping onto his bed. “Look who ranked second, just after Phichit Chulanont.”

Otabek reluctantly scrolls down, and oh. #2 - Yuri Plisetsky

In the embedded Instagram photo just under that subheading, a very grumpy Yuri is cuddling a very grumpy-looking cat. The caption reads: I found the cat version of me at the shelter today. #iknowisaidnomorecats #canyoublameme

Heather Says: And here, in the stupid cute category we have teenagers navigating love through social media. What’s more, there’s a companion fic.

7. flowers start to bloom in every different hue by orphan-account | Coraline | Coraline/Wybourn | 1k

Coraline grows up, gets a tattoo, and falls in love. In that order.

Heather Says: I read this fic on a slow day at work, often in quick bursts while I was waiting for the kitchen to finish my table’s food. It’s short. It’s sweet. It’s perfect. And honestly? It’s everything that I was looking for when I ventured into the Coraline tag on ao3 because I was curious.

8. Victory Conditions by @astolat | Transformers | Megatron/Optimus Prime | 37k

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” Megatron said mockingly. “You won’t like it, Prime. It’s not a very nice one.”

Heather Says: Fun fact, I’m not even in this fandom. I haven’t touched the Transformers fandom since the first movie came out in 2007 and I spent a very confusing week shipping a boy and his car. But Astolat has literally never lead me wrong, and I was having one of those bored days where nothing quite itches the right spot, so I sat down on the couch and spent two hours reading this. Worth it.

9. just in it for the game by grim_lupine | Thor | Thor/Loki | 6k

“It's excellent rehabilitation for my image,” Loki says, widening his eyes. “They love you, and because of that they'll trust me. You wouldn't ruin this for me, would you?”

Thor glares at him.

Loki’s mouth twitches. “Also, it's the funniest thing that's ever happened to me.”

Heather Says: The Thor/Loki bug never really bit me until after Ragnorak came out. I mean, sure, I read it and it was good, but hella’s Frostiron fics basically destroyed me for any other Loki pairing. HOWEVER. Ragnorak happened and screwed that all the way up. Also, you know, this fic is absolutely lovely and was just what the doctor ordered.

10. so this guy walks into a bar by MasterOfAllImagination | Pacific Rim | Newt/Hermann | 2.5k

“Bourbon,” Hermann says, hooking his cane on the edge of the bar and sliding by degrees onto a stool.

“Straight up?” the bartender asks.

“Please.” Does he look like the kind of man who enjoys having his nostrils fumigated by undiluted whiskey? “On the rocks.”

Heather Says: I coped with Pacific Rim 2 by reading a couple AUs and a couple very, very long fics full of tragedy and math. Weirdly, the AU of a chance meeting in a bar was the one that stuck.

11. cherry pie by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 133k

Billy Hargrove lives for summer. Endless sunshine, heavily chlorinated pools, roaming ice cream trucks, and unencumbered freedom? There’s nothing better.

Even being stuck in Hawkins can’t ruin the summer for him. He eats it up, devouring every day whole.

Heather Says: Yeah, okay, but this is the fic that made summer worth it. Highly recommend reading at the pool or with your feet hanging off the back porch. Every piece of this fic was dripping in summertime nostalgia. It was fan-freaking-tastic.

12. the ghost and the good queen val by Wildehack (tyleet) | Thor | Thor/Valkyrie/Loki | 27k

“What,” she says, her heart racing, “was that.”

“What was what?” Korg asks, frowning up at her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Valkyrie squints suspiciously at the ship.

“Oh my god,” Korg says. “You did! You saw a ghost!”

Heather Says: So, remember how I coped with Pacific Rim 2 with copious AUs? This is how I coped with Infinity War.

13. For Better or Worse by DragonBandit | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 22k

All Damien ever wanted was someone who wanted him. All Damien deserves is to die alone, stripped bare of any of the comforts or affections of humanity, a title he willingly shed.

Mark Bryant seems to be the Universe's compromise.

Wherein Damien and Mark are soulmates, and this changes enough.

Heather Says: I think I’ve read this one three or four time this year? It’s 22k of well-written fic for a fandom that has a max of like 100 fics all with lengths that tend to vary between a couple hundred words to 2 or 3k, max. This fic is the one that really catapulted me into the fandom.

14. in waves by @lymricks | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 38k

It’s March and it’s too cold for Billy to be shirtless and wearing shorts, but he hadn’t noticed until Harrington appeared and made him hold still. Harrington can’t seem to stop looking at the bruises. “What’s it to you if I miss a little school, Harrington?” Billy asks. He feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

“I don’t know,” Harrington snaps back, looking uncomfortable. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Plant your feet, Billy wants to scream at him. I’m going to bowl you over.

Heather Says: And here we have the first fic that wasn’t written by either @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger or @brawlite that made me realize that this fandom was gonna be a good one. So fantastic.

15. the cure by aquaexplicit | The Flash | Cisco/Harry | 43k

“I guess I don’t really get what you need to fix? Harrison Wells is a hot, rich genius that pays you to make cool stuff with his daughter and is totally into you. If you guys boning is the biggest problem you have, I think this officially qualifies as your best relationship ever.”

When Barry puts it like that, everything sounds so simple and not at all as angst ridden as Cisco has been suffering the past few months.

Cisco hangs up on him.

Heather Says: I remember a couple years ago, I fell absolutely head over heels for this one Sterek fic where Derek had twin toddlers and Stiles was the hired babysitter. So I think there’s something about dad + babysitter fics that get me, even if this one in particular the ‘baby’ in question is a fifteen year old genius. Still. Dad + babysitter. I don’t even know, but apparently it works for me.

16. pull out the insides by SpineAndSpite | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 3k

“Stop,” Damien says again, more insistent this time.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” Mark's heart pounds in his ears and he sees Damien’s hands shaking. God. They shouldn’t have started talking about sex. Shouldn’t have filled in the colors and shadows to this pencil outline of a sketch forming between them. They shouldn’t have given it a name.

Heather Says: This year seems to have had a theme when it comes to fics that I’ve liked and it seems to boil down to: people who are bad for each other have sex and catch feelings. Mark/Damien is not the healthiest ship. But it also hurts in this stupidly tragic way and hell if I didn’t fall head over heels for it.

17. tell me, get my shit together by paperclipbitch | Star Wars | Han/Lando | 5k

“I thought we were actively avoiding each other after the Trandosha Shitshow,” Han says.

“We’re actively avoiding each other after the Iridonia Shitshow,” Lando corrects him, “the Trandosha Shitshow is That Which We Do Not Speak Of.”

Heather Says: So, guess what I did in the two to three hours after seeing Solo? If you guessed: ‘combed through ao3 until you ran out of fic’ ding ding ding, you are 100% correct. This one was very, very good, which makes sense, because paperclipbitch has some good shit.

18. chases, escapes, true love, miracles by pepperfield | The Flash | Cisco/Harry 55k

Just because the timeline has been restored, doesn't mean things are back to normal. Cisco's got 99 problems, and Harry Wells is approximately 38 of them.

In which Cisco makes a bunch of plans, fails most of them, narrowly avoids being disintegrated, receives a hug or two, finds his groove, and gets his man. More or less in that order.

Heather Says: This one was long and wibbly wobbly, because it was basically what season 3 should have been. But it was also really great, and had some super quality Harrisco interactions.

19. Your Pretty Little Heart by Ever-so-reylo | Star Wars | Reylo | 64k

Modern day AU in which Ben is an Alpha, Rey is an Omega, and they are way better at having sex than at communicating with each other.

Heather Says: Speaking of people who are probably a little bit bad for each other... This particular fic was new to me, not because of the um, extensive sexual content, but because I’m usually not a fan of A/B/O. But this one was extremely good, enough that I actually liked it for a/b/o aspect rather than in spite of it.

20. Draconia by perceived_nobility | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 4k

"So I was driving. One ex wife and one ex husband later, stopping at the same fucking gas stations you and I stopped at."

Heather Says: This fic actually prompted a 3 hour long conversation on the ‘adult’ Mark/Damien discord where we basically outlined an entire fic that I never got around to writing where Damien is raising a child, has a farm, and runs into Mark ten years down the ride. One day, I might write it, because vaguely domestic, meet-again-ten-years-down-the-road fics always bowl me right the fuck over and just. There needs to be more fic like this one in the world. But until then, the world can marvel at the beauty that is this one.

21. Artifice by buttpatrol | Wolf 359 | Hera/Eiffel | 23k

A story told in parts about colour palettes, identity, robot uprisings, sensational trials, space, and messy love.

Heather Says: As I’ve recently finished relistening to Wolf 359 I have a fresh appreciation for this fic, which is one of the only longer fics on ao3 that just grips you by the heart and squeezes the same way that the series does. It might have been written before the end of the series, but it’s honestly just as perfect.

22. (shoot the lights out, hide) till its bright out by lipgallagher | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 93k

The most dangerous thing walking around Hawkins goes by the name Billy Hargrove.

And he fucking knows it.

Heather Says: I’m kind of cheating here, because this is a series rather than a single fic, but I’m not picking just one part. I read the first four or so parts of this fic when I was visiting my family in South Carolina and spent the next few days wandering around the place half-in Steve Harrington’s headspace. It was an incredibly surreal experience, which lead to a pretty strong combination of mania, depression, and an indescribable craving for ice cream. So like, maybe don’t read this fic if you’re in a bad head space? But also it’s very good and features one of the most fucked up and intriguing Steve’s that I’ve seen yet.

23. Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches by Reiya | Yuri On Ice | Yuuri/Viktor | 197k

‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’

Heather Says: I actually read this one on the plane ride down to South Carolina, and kind of didn’t like it at first? I’m not sure if it was just the act of putting Yuuri and Victor into the position of rivals that made me uncomfortable or the goddamn delays that turned half a day of travelling into a full one, but eventually I was able to get into and enjoyed it quite a bit. I really like the rivals to lovers trope, so I’d been looking forward to this one a lot.

24. Traveling Far by @astolat | Game of Thrones | Jaime/Brienne | 24k

Three weeks into their delightful slog across Westeros, during yet another charming day of shitting in the woods, eating half-raw squirrel, and trudging his feet bloody, the single most dour and uninteresting woman Jaime had ever met in all of Westeros stopped in the middle of a field, drew a deep breath, and said, “When I was seven, my aunt came to visit with her son. My father told me that as the daughter of the house, it was my duty to show hospitality to my guests and to be gracious to them. I wanted to make him proud. So for three weeks, I let my cousin follow me around and talk to me about spiders.”

Heather Says: I’ve become very fond of astolat’s Jaime/Brienne fics, and I think this one is my favorite yet. Featuring Starks, found family, and a whole lot of walking.

25. lilies of the valley (cover me with kisses, make my garden grow) by diasterisms | Star Wars | Reylo | 8k

Every girl is entitled to the mistake. That one colossal fuck-up that permanently alters the terrain of who you are. You'll either learn from it or you won't, so might as well have the time of your life.

Heather Says: I just. I really like flower shop AUs, and the idea of a Kylo Ren who owns a sleek flower shop being menaced by a tiny gremlin in a leather jacket just. Kills me. It was really sweet and all kinds of wonderful.

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vulpixen · 5 years

Note

👶 - Mystery Trio, perhaps? Or 🏝️, if you'd prefer.

I’ve decided to combine the two into one fic! And this is the result of this Mystery Trio short fic as they end up on an island with very special water. Somewhere out on a seemingly deserted island in the middle of nowhere, 1980….

Stanford Pines was walking ahead, using a machete to cut away the heavy foliage of the humid jungle along with his twin brother, Stanley Pines. Ford’s assistant, Fiddleford McGucket, in tow. They were determined to find the materials needed to repair their ship and sail off to the mainland. But first, they must find a viable source of water. It wasn’t long before complaints on Stan’s part were being made.

“How long is this gonna take before we find fresh water?” Stan cuts away another branch, “We’ve been trekking out here for hours, mosquitoes are biting the hell outta me, and I’m starting to get hungry and thirsty!”

“Sigh. I know, I know…. Stanley, if there is wildlife out here, then there’s likely a viable source of water they thrive off of,” groaned Ford, being tired himself as they’ve been stranded for a few days, more than ready to return home. Fiddleford had to agree with him.

“Ah reckon we should be getting close to a source of…” Fiddleford spotted, from his peripheral vision, what looked to be pool of water with stone walls at the edge except for the sole entrance, guarded by a younger man clad in old Spanish armor carrying a poleaxe in hand. “Think we should ask that fella? I mean, he could be reasonable.”

Stan and Ford exchanged perplexed expressions, the three wondering why there was a man guarding that pool. However, seeing that there was a person, they came to the conclusion they stumbled upon a possible civilization hidden from the world. What appears to them, at least. Ford noted the armor and weapon, “What he’s wearing seems familiar–”

Stan had Ford stand aside, “Familiar or not, we’re going to get some water.”

“Stanley, we have to be careful!” warned Ford, him and Fiddleford following Stan out to the clearing of the dense jungle to confront the guard.

“Hey, man with the pointy stick and metal butt, can we get some of that water?” Stan asked with an assured grin. That grin turned to an alarmed frown when the man points his poleaxe at him.

“None must enter here by the order of my superior, Alejandro the Bold! If you are looking for drinking water, you won’t have any here.” The young Spaniard glanced behind him, “This water is… special.”

“Is it the most holiest water in existence or something?” questioned Stan.

“Well, it does have some magical properties.”

Ford and Fiddleford couldn’t help to pry further in intrigued. “Can you tell us what sort of magical properties? I’m Stanford Pines and my partner here, Fiddleford McGucket, we’re scholars. My rude brother here is Stanley.”

“I ain’t that rude,” Stan mumbled back.

“I can’t reveal too much, I’m sorry. But my name Leon Rivera-Cruz, pardon my own rudeness.” The lone soldier had to ask of the three men, seeing their more modern clothing he hadn’t seen before, “But can you tell me where you men came from? I’ve never seen such clothes.”

“From Gravity Falls, Oregon. The United States of America.” The Spaniard gave a confused look that prompted Fiddleford to ask, “It’s 1980, and it looks like you’ve been away from the rest of the world for a long time.”

“I….” The soldier was bewildered. It had been hundreds of years since he and the rest of his comrades had been off the island. It didn’t take Ford and his brother and assistant long to piece everything together to figure out what the soldier was hiding.

“That water has been keeping you and your men alive, hasn’t it?”

Leon nodded, relenting to tell the truth, “It is. The others want to keep it to ourselves no matter what and never leave. Why I can’t let you pass.”

Not wanting to stand by any longer and wait, being thirsty as he was, Stan rush passed Leon and dunk his head into the pristine pool age-reducing water, taking two big gulps of it before raising his head in satisfaction. Ford, Fiddleford and Leon were flabbergasted.

“STANLEY!!!”

“What? This water is good! I can already feel better now that –” Stan’s voice cracked, sounding much younger as his whole form was engulfed in light, changing his form to appear as a ten-year old child within seconds. Thankfully, his clothes changed with him as shrunk. Stan was a child again before his brother and the other’s eyes. “– I feel much better!” Stan didn’t notice at first until he saw how much taller everyone else was. Stan raised a brow, “Why are you guys… taller?” Stan looks at his hands, then his reflection in the water to see that he has changed back to a kid again, “Holy shit! I’m a little kid! Whoo, I’m a little kid!”

“Sweet sarsaparilla, Stanley, hopefully this is temporary,” Fiddleford remarked, wiping his brow.

“Oh it is. You have to keep drinking the water to remain young.” Leon points to the opening of the rock face where the water was coming from, “It comes from there. There are colorful stones in there that have touched this water that gives its power. My superior broke a piece off, but it lost its magic the moment it was removed from the base.”

“Fascinating!” Ford said, documenting the discovery in the first journal. “We don’t aim to stay here for long as we are stranded and in need of repairs and supplies. Though while we wait, I can study this if you don’t mind, Leon.”

Leon nodded, pleading Ford, “Um, yes, we can help repair what ship you have and let you three be on your way. Just promise you’ll keep this whole place a secret. The rest of the world would taint this place.”

Fiddleford, Ford and Stan agreed.

“Yeah, whatever, old/young guy. Kinda feels nice being a kid again,” grinned Stanley. “No aches and body pain like an older person.”

Fiddleford asks, “Could I take a sip of this? See if the amount of water affects how much age is reduced on me?”

“Great idea, Fiddleford!” encouraged Ford in eagerness. “I’ll even try it myself. Stanley, how much did you drink?”

Stanley thought for a moment while he climbs up a tall coconut tree, “Two big mouthfuls, I guess.” Stan yelps, seeing a coconut crab, “Ah! Fight me, buster!” Stan uses fisticuffs against the large crab, knocking it out of the tree and had it scurrying off to another tree. “Yeah! Can’t take on a kid like me, you crusty idiot! Pines! Pines! Pines!

”Leon doesn’t bother to say no this time, “Be my guest, but just a little. Drink too much and you become an infant for a whole day like what happened to me the first time I drank too much of it.” He chuckled at the thought for what was a lifetime ago.

And so, Ford and Fiddleford tested the youth-giving waters and stones. The scientists found it amazing as they’ve heard of the fabled, Fountain of Youth, but never thought to find something similar to it. Fiddleford took no more than a small gulp, turning him into a young teenager again, him having been more lanky and flexible back then. Ford ended up taking notes along with two big gulps like his brother did, turning into a kid himself.

Stan took notice of his brother’s change, finding a good time to ask him, “Hey, Sixer! Why don’t you come play with me like we used to as kids? At least until it wears off.”

Ford gave it thought before agreeing with Stan, “Alright! And we can fit into smaller places we couldn’t before.”

“That’s the spirit, bro!” Stan laughed as him and Ford go off. Fiddleford making sure they don’t get into too much trouble on his watch.

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #mystery trio au #stanley pines #stanford pines #stan pines #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #thelastspeecher #vulpixens fanfiction

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southside-vixen · 6 years

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Fire and Ice (Sweet Pea) 1

Chapter 1: Down the Rabbit Hole

AO3

Adrianna Rivera has just made a difficult move from Arizona to the southside of Riverdale. With the history of her life in Phoenix behind her will she be able to find a new family in the Southside Serpents? Or will a certain tall, dark, and rage inducing Serpent cause issues?

It had been 36 hours since what she had not so affectionately dubbed her “fall from grace”. Adrianna Rivera sighed as she stared out of the Greyhound window. One more mile until the exit to Riverdale, her new home for the foreseeable future.

The last day and a half had been particularly jarring. One minute she was sipping orange juice on her back porch the next an entire swat team burst through the door, dragging out her father in cuffs. The next few hours were a whirlwind of FBI questioning as well as her father’s legal team dictating all the words that shouldn’t come out of her mouth. But now it was over, and her father remained in a high security prison. No bail presented as he had been deemed a flight risk.

That’s where Riverdale came in. It was a long shot from Phoenix which she had called home for her entire 16 years of life, but it was her aunt lived. Vanessa Allen, her mother’s sister. The last time she had seen her Aunt Ness she was a 6 year old child. Hanging onto her father’s leg at her mother’s funeral, not understanding the gravity of the situation. Over time she realized her mother was never coming back, and neither was her mother’s only sister.

With her father gone she had no one else to take care of her. The state dictated that her father’s family had too much of a history with crime, so much to her surprise Ness had agreed to take her in. Thousands of miles away on the east coast in a small town she never left. Adria knew next to nothing about her aunt, or her home. All she knew was depending on her father’s lawyers she could be stuck here until she turned 18. The thought made her skin crawl.

The bus pulled in to the station and things already weren’t looking good. There was multiple graffiti tags littering the walls, and at least 2 people begging for spare change. Adria plucked her luggage from the driver’s hands with a small muttering of thanks and scoped out the scene. Soon she saw the woman from the photo her case worker had provided her. She was short, with long wavy brown hair and a smattering of freckles across her face. She couldn’t have been older than 35.

“Adrianna, hey!” she called out, waving her hand to make sure she had her attention “I’m your aunt Ness. God, last time I saw you, you had pig tails” she laughed a bit to herself. “Let me grab your bag.”

She picked up the suitcase as Adria gave her a small smile. She wanted to shower already, the long bus ride along with the bus station made her feel like her skin was covered in grime. Ness led her to a beat up Lincoln that looked like it was at least 20 years old.

“So…this is your car?” She asked, disdain obvious in her voice

Ness let out a sour chuckle “Yep, she’s mine. Not as flashy as your dad’s Mercedes if he still has it.” Ness could already tell this would be a rough transition. Her niece wasn’t the pleasant little girl she remembered. Not to say that wasn’t entirely expected. Her mother had died while she was young, and her father was never the best example. ‘Rude bastard.’ Ness thought to herself.

The car ride was silent on the way back. They pulled up to a small ranch style home nearby a trailer park. It looked like it hadn’t been washed in a couple years. Ness unloaded her niece’s bag out of the car and brought it into the door. Inside there was a small kitchen table covered in mail and some Chinese takeout boxes. The kitchen looked clean, but in a way that meals most likely hadn’t been cooked in months.

“Your room is at the end of the hall,” Ness set down her bag, “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll clean up the table and order us a pizza. You a pepperoni girl?”

“Yeah…that’s fine.” Adria was still in shock. She looked down the hall and noticed the open door at the end of the hall. She picked up her bag and threw it by the inside of the door. The room wasn’t even a quarter of the size of her old room. No en suite bathroom. No walk in closet. Just a twin sized bed, a small full sized mirror propped against a wall, a beat up dresser, and a closet that could maybe fit a half of her already diminished belongings.

She unpacked everything she could, trying to be as creative as possible. Ultimately, she was exhausted. She left half of her belongings in her suitcase and walked out as soon as she heard the delivery boy. She devoured a few slices of pizza before Ness spoke again

“I know you’ve had a long day but there’s somewhere I need to take you before you start school tomorrow” Adria had already forgotten she was set to start school so soon. A way to keep her out of trouble and under a close eye she figured.

“Where are we going” She asked

“My bar. Well, half my bar. There’s someone I want you to meet. She’s the same age as you and will be at the same school. I’ve given her the heads up that I want you looked after.” Ness sighed “Everything here might seem a bit rough around the edges. And believe me I know it’s not the posh shit you’re used to in Phoenix. It’s not all bad, you’ll get out what you put in here.” It was cliché bullshit advice and Ness knew it. Everyone Adria knew in Phoenix was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Drug kingpins dressed in suits and ties and presenting themselves as respectable businessmen in public. She would get none of that here. There was no front, Ness surrounded herself with the Southside Serpents since she was 16 and Alejandro Rivera hated her for it. It was the reason after her sister’s death she never saw her niece again.

Adria stared out the window on the ride to the White Wyrm. Nothing here was pristine, it seemed everything was marked with graffiti or trash. She found it hard to accept this as her life. The bar was busy, filled with men and women in black leather jackets. The same as her aunt wore. The Southside Serpents. Her father told her multiple times her aunt was a criminal and ran with a bike gang. She never thought she’d see it first hand

“Toni!” Ness shouted over the music “I have someone I want you to meet” She ushered Adria over to the bar

“Adrianna, this is Toni Topaz. She’s a sophomore same as you, she’ll be around to help you out on your first day at Southside High”

The girl behind the bar put down the glass she was cleaning and held out her hand with a smile

“It’s nice to meet you Adrianna” Adria took her hand and shook it

“It’s nice to meet you as well. Call me Adria.”

The two girls sized each other up in silence. Adria noticed she also had a leather jacket, and that her entire look screamed grunge. Beat up flannels, fishnets, more leather. Immediately Adria knew she didn’t belong anywhere around here. If people in this town looked anything like Toni she had a bad feeling her first day of her knew school would be worse than she anticipated.

---

Sure enough her first day of school was going about as well as she thought it would. Her Calvin Klein crop top and Lucky brand jeans stood out amongst the sea of leather and flannel. It felt like walking into a grunge concert. On top of that she had to go through the metal detector 3 different times while everyone stared, she had more difficulty getting to class than she did getting through airport security. Then there was the cherry on top of the cake. Toni Topaz as her peer mentor.

“Hey so, first class of the day is English, which you’ll have with me. After that you have Chemistry and History. I’ll have to see if anyone else lines up with that…” Toni was looking over her schedule with a fine toothed comb. According to Ness, Toni was supposed be her liaison to the younger serpents. All which were supposed to be keeping a watchful eye on her.

“From today on you’re an honorary Serpent. You’ll sit with us at lunch and we’ll keep you from being food for the Ghoulies.” She paused for a second “Possibly literally. The rumors of cannibalism are unsubstantiated but better safe than sorry.”

Adria raised an eyebrow “Awesome. Thanks.”

Classes were underwhelming. Unlike prep school no one cared if she underachieved. She could sit quietly on her phone and no one seemed to bother her, she guessed her luck had to turn around at some point.

And it did. Until lunch.

“So this is the cartel princess, huh?” Toni sat her down at a table filled with much larger boys with leather jackets. All Southside Serpents.

“Fangs. Shut up.” Toni smacked him upside the back of the head before sitting down herself. “The idiot with the mouth is Fangs, and the large one is Sweet Pea”

She wasn’t wrong. He was extremely tall even sitting down. But then again it wasn’t hard to seem large next to her slim 5’1” frame.

“The cartel princess has a name. Adria.” Adria threw her bag onto the table and took a look at the meager sandwich the school had provided

“But really.” The boy named Fangs leaned over the table “How much time is your dad doing? How many hits did he call? Is it true they string up snitches by their feet on public bridges to send a message?”

He didn’t have time to spew out more questions before Toni threw an apple at his head which he managed to dodge at the last second. She wasn’t entirely paying attention as she was noticing out of the corner of her eye that the one known as Sweet Pea was glaring daggers at her.

Keeping her mouth shut had never been Adria’s strong suit.

“So are you just going to keep staring at me or are you going to tell me why you want to stab me after we’ve just met” She fixed her eyes on Sweet Pea who looked taken aback.

“I don’t care if your Aunt’s a Serpent. We don’t need some Northsider-like outsider here. Why don’t you go cross the tracks where you belong” He scoffed

“First of all. I have no idea what any of that shit means. Second I’m here and you’re stuck with me, if you have a problem with that go take it up with the Feds.” Adria shot back her biggest shit eating grin.

“Alright. That’s enough” Toni said “Like it or not. Both of you. Adria is a part of our dysfunctional Serpent family.” The bell rang “Now if you’ll excuse us, Adria and I have gym class to get to.” The two girls got up and collected their things before leaving the cafeteria.

“God, she’s hot.” Fangs smiled

“She’s a bitch.” Sweet Pea rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag. “Sooner she’s gone the better.”

#sweet pea #riverdale #fanfic #fireandice #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x oc

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bcdrawsandwrites · 6 years

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Neither Can You Rating: T Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Characters: Héctor, Ernesto, Imelda, Coco, Julio, Pepita, Dante, Miguel, Óscar, Felipe, Victoria, Rosita… possibly others. Warnings: Violence, broken bones Description: “Do you care about your familia… more than your music?” Héctor didn’t have to think twice to answer yes. But the grin on Ernesto’s face sent a chill down his spine as the man continued, “Are you willing to put that to the test?” View all chapters here! FFN Link | AO3 Link | dA Link

Chapter 16: The Statement Summary: In which Dante's actions have consequences, and Héctor must say something... so to speak.

The sun was just barely starting to rise as Rosita made her way back home, basket full of pan dulce in hand. Up ahead, Pepita paused in her hurried steps to look back at her, wings and tail twitching in agitation.

“Is everything all right, Pepita?” she asked, looking up at the cat in concern.

Pepita only hurried on ahead, and Rosita did her best to keep up.

The alebrije had been like this all morning, insisting on following her as she made a quick trip into town. A few times she’d even prevented her from taking certain streets, lying down obstinately in the middle of the sidewalk. Rosita couldn’t understand it—she’d only gone out to get a treat for everyone, as she usually did when everyone was stressed out, but Pepita was acting like it was quite the dangerous undertaking.

Whatever the case was, Rosita was not going to argue with a giant winged jaguar.

While nothing seemed out of place when they reached the hacienda, Pepita was no less agitated, hurriedly taking her spot in the yard and standing next to the house like a watchdog. Rosita reached into her basket, pulling out an alebrije treat she’d purchased and holding it out to the cat. Pepita perked up, stooping down to sniff at the colorful fish-shaped treat before taking it into her mouth in one gentle bite. Finally she let out a short purr, and Rosita smiled.

As she expected, Victoria was already up, having fixed a pot of coffee. “Buenas dias, Victoria!” Rosita said as she set the basket of pastries down. “Were you up late again last night?”

“A bit,” Victoria mumbled, reaching out to grab a chocolate concha. “I was just thinking.”

“You could always do your thinking during the day instead. Nothing to do about it now, though... When you’re done with that, would you like to help me with breakfast?”

“Sí.”

The next hour or so passed by quickly as the others made their way downstairs: first the twins, who were passing a sketchbook back and forth, and then Coco and Julio, the latter looking like he had had a harder time sleeping than his wife. Strangely, Imelda did not come downstairs with any of the others.

“Is Mamá not up yet?” Coco asked, looking around the dining room and then back up the stairs.

“I haven’t seen her,” Victoria answered from the kitchen. “She could use the extra rest, though.”

Rosita couldn’t argue with that. She stepped out into the dining room, looking around for a certain alebrije. “What about Dante? I bought a treat for him.”

“I let him out late last night. He probably went back to Miguel.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Digging through the basket, she found the bone-shaped alebrije treat she’d picked out for the dog and took it into the kitchen. As she did so, however, she felt a strange tug of worry. “Pepita seemed anxious this morning. Do you think something could have happened to Dante?”

“Oh, something definitely happened to Dante,” Óscar said, glancing up from his sketchbook.

“He probably chased a chicken alebrije halfway across town,” Felipe said, reaching over to write something on the paper.

“Or he got himself stuck in a fake tree.”

“Or ran into a wall.”

“Or—”

Julio cleared his throat. “Dante is an alebrije. I’m sure he’s fine, hermana.”

Before she could say anything else, the stairs creaked with the sound of unsteady footfalls. The family exchanged glances before quickly realizing what that meant, and craned their necks toward the stairs. Sure enough, Imelda and Héctor were slowly making their way downstairs, Héctor with his good arm thrown over Imelda’s shoulders and Imelda with her arm over his shoulders as she helped him limp down. They were both focused on the task (not an easy one with Héctor’s injured leg), but the second they reached the floor, everyone quickly went back to whatever they had been doing before, as though they hadn’t just been staring.

Well, everyone but Rosita, anyway. “So good to see you, Papá Héctor!” she said. Her smile wavered when he flinched, but returned when he gave a shaky smile back. “Did you sleep well?”

Héctor waved his hand in an uncertain gesture.

“Está bien. You’ll have all day today to rest up—”

“After we get back from the police station,” Imelda cut in, and Héctor glanced away. She squeezed his upper arm in return. “But she is right, Héctor. This won’t take long, and then you can take it easy.”

The gentle gesture did not go unnoticed, and Rosita and Coco exchanged knowing, delighted glances. Any bit of progress between those two was good!

“Sit down,” Rosita implored. “We have breakfast ready, and coffee, and I bought everyone’s favorite pan dulce.”

“Very well, but we won’t be too long,” Imelda replied, helping Héctor over to the table. “We’d like to get to the police station early. Best to get this over with as soon as possible.”

As expected, Héctor ate very little food, seeming to have trouble with swallowing. It hurt Rosita’s throat even to watch, but she refilled his coffee mug, hoping that the warm drink and the caffeine would be enough to help him this morning. He had a difficult task ahead, and it would be even more difficult on an empty stomach… so to speak.

While Rosita and Coco chatted a little, breakfast was oddly quiet, with the twins absorbed in their work, Victoria and Imelda lost in their thoughts, and Héctor and Julio seeming focused on staying awake. At one point Rosita thought she heard her brother whispering something to Héctor, but decided it wouldn’t be best to pry.

The relative silence, however, was suddenly broken by a low growling from outside. Héctor tensed up, and Imelda twisted herself around to look at the door. “Pepita?” she murmured.

“She was very tense this morning... I’m not sure why,” Rosita remarked. “She followed me all the way to the pasteleria and back.”

Héctor and Julio exchanged fearful glances, but Rosita laughed. “Oh, you two. You know she wouldn’t attack one of us.”

“Whatever the problem is,” Imelda said, stepping away from the table to open the door, “we can figure it out after we’ve—” And she jerked back in surprise to see a police officer standing at their doorstep. His hand was outstretched as though he were just about to knock at the door, and Pepita was looming behind him.

The man looked just as surprised as Imelda did, but quickly recovered, glancing down at the notepad he carried. “¿Rivera Familia de Zapateros?”

The rest of the family slowly began to gather behind Imelda, aside from Héctor, who stayed rooted at the table, and Julio, who stood near Héctor, watching the officer from a distance.

“Sí,” Imelda answered, crossing her arms. “We’re closed on Sundays.”

Undeterred, the officer flipped to another page on his notepad. “Are any of you in ownership of a winged canine alebrije?”

Rosita’s ribcage tightened. “Dante?” she whispered.

“...We are,” Victoria said, eying the police officer cautiously. “What’s this about?”

“We received a report early this morning that an alebrije matching the description broke into an apartment, caused extensive damage, and attacked no less than two people.”

“What?!” Felipe cried.

“That doesn’t sound like our alebrije!” Óscar went on.

Wringing her hands, Rosita stepped forward. “There must be some mistake... Dante is a good dog. He wouldn’t—”

“Dante?” The man looked up at her, brow furrowing, and dug into his pocket, pulling out a thin blue object. “This was found in the apartment after the alebrije escaped.”

When he held it out for them to see, the family collectively gasped. It was indeed a torn blue dog collar, with a tag reading “DANTE — RIVERA FAMILIA DE ZAPATEROS” still dangling from it.

Pepita let out another low growl behind the officer, while Rosita covered her mouth in horror. “Oh, no!”

“But he was just helping Papá last night,” Coco said, glancing back at Héctor. Rosita followed her gaze, alarmed to see that Héctor was breathing quickly. Without another word, the two of them hurried to his side, Coco placing a hand on his shoulder and Rosita taking a seat next to him.

“Tranquilo, Papá Héctor,” she said, stealing a glance back at the front door. “Mamá Imelda will get this sorted out.”

“This can’t be right!” Imelda snatched the collar away, examining it. “Dante is not a violent alebrije by any means. An idiot, to be sure, but not violent.”

“She’s right.”

“He wouldn’t attack someone unprovoked.”

“An alebrije should not be attacking anyone, except when it is directly defending its owner,” the officer said, growing more firm. “Unless any of you were present at an apartment building two towers away from here last night, and you were being threatened, your alebrije had no cause to attack any person. Were any of you there?”

Imelda’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening around the collar. “No.”

“The apartment owner claims they were attacked unprovoked. The xolo alebrije chased another alebrije into their apartment and then proceeded to attack the owner. Others witnessed the attack as well.”

Rosita couldn’t help herself, sitting up straight in her chair. “Is—is he all right?” Part of her wanted to walk back to the officer, but she didn’t want to leave Héctor, who looked to be in the middle of a mild panic attack. “Where is he now?”

“The alebrije fled the scene, jumping out the window,” the officer answered, jotting something down in his notepad. “We have several officers searching for him now.”

“What will happen when he is found?” Imelda asked, looking at the officer again.

“He’ll need to be quarantined for at least a week, during which he will need to stay within your property at all times. If he is found outside of this property during the quarantine period, we will need to take action.” Before anyone could ask just what that “action” entailed, he turned to another page in his notebook. “And right now, you will be required to pay for the damages done to the victim’s property as soon as possible.”

“And who is this victim?” Victoria asked, crossing her arms.

“The afflicted party wishes to remain anonymous.” Clicking his pen, the officer looked back up at Imelda. “Now, regarding the damages...”

While Imelda talked with the officer about working out a payment, Rosita looked back to Julio, Coco, and Héctor. Coco was leaning into her papá, wrapping her arm around him, while Julio whispered something to him. She had to admit, she didn’t expect to see Julio talking with Héctor much, given how uneasy he’d been around his father-in-law these past couple months, but she wasn’t going to complain.

“Papá, can you hear me?” Coco asked, and Héctor gave a short nod. “Are you worried about Dante?”

Héctor nodded again, shutting his eyes.

“I think he’ll be all right.” Rosita patted Héctor gently on the shoulder. “We’ll just have to find him and keep an eye on him for a while. Oh, poor Miguelito, though...” The thought of him not being able to see his pet for a week, without knowing where he was, and without being able to send messages back to them, was an upsetting one.

“Don’t worry about it, though, Héctor,” Julio said quickly, and Héctor looked up at him. “We’ll take care of this stuff with Dante. You... you need to just focus on your statement.”

“He’s right,” Coco affirmed. “We’ll figure out what happened with Dante. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Héctor gave Coco a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, giving Rosita the feeling that he didn’t quite believe them.

Even so, Rosita nodded. “Dante will be all right, Papá Héctor. You just worry about yourself right now.”

Gracias, he mouthed in response, looking down at the floor.

It was several more minutes as Imelda worked out more details with the police officer, but eventually she finished. The officer left the hacienda, Pepita growling at him the entire way, and Imelda turned around to face the others once more. “Well, you heard what he said. If we find Dante, he has to stay on our property for a week. I want you all to keep an eye out for him wherever you go, and bring him home as soon as you find him.”

“Sí, Mamá Imelda,” Victoria said quietly, still staring out after the police officer.

“As for us...” Imelda approached Héctor, laying a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. “We do need to get going. Are you ready, Héctor?”

Shuddering, Héctor looked up at her and waved his one good hand in an uncertain gesture, giving a shaky grin.

“Well, you won’t feel any more ready if we waste time around here.” Reaching down, she helped Héctor up, letting him lean on her as he limped toward the door.

“Good luck, Papá Héctor!” Rosita called after him. “You’ll be fine! Just tell them what you need to and you’ll be home before you know it.”

Héctor swallowed and tried to give her a smile, and finally they were gone, Imelda shutting the door behind them. Shortly after, they could hear Pepita taking to the skies.

Looking out the window, Rosita watched them leave, finding herself heaving a deep sigh. She wasn’t one to worry often, but when she did, she didn’t like her worries to be right.

She hoped both Dante and Papá Héctor would return home soon.

Imelda led Héctor toward Pepita, and the alebrije gave a soft, short purr, stepping closer to them. Héctor took an uncertain step back, but Pepita lowered her head and lightly touched the top of her head against Héctor’s side—a much more gentle version of her usual affectionate headbutt.

When Héctor only blinked in bewilderment, Imelda rubbed his arm. “She likes you,” she said, and helped him onto the alebrije’s back.

However, in spite of Pepita’s friendly behavior, Rosita had not been wrong about her. Not entirely wrong, anyway. Imelda could feel the tension in the alebrije’s muscles, and even the vibration of a soft, inaudible growl from within her chest. Pepita was more than tense—she was angry. It may have had something to do with the police officer, or something to do with Dante, but unfortunately she had no way of knowing for sure.

Perhaps they could go looking for Dante later on, but this needed to be taken care of first. Making sure she had a good grip on Héctor, Imelda nudged Pepita’s sides with her heels. “We’re going to the police station, Pepita,” she said, and the cat’s muscles coiled beneath her just before she sprung into the air.

Héctor tensed up, gripping a clump of Pepita’s fur with his good hand and ducking his head, and Imelda carefully tightened her grip around him. “I’ve got you, don’t worry,” she called above the wind as they flew.

Even without everything that had just happened with the police officer, the morning had been... strange. She’d woken up and immediately confronted Héctor, who had looked like he’d maybe gotten an hour or so of sleep, if that. When she’d announced that they would be going to the police station this morning, he had been surprisingly compliant, in spite of how stubborn he’d been the day prior. Part of her found it strange, but the other part of her chalked it up to his insomnia and exhaustion making it hard for him to keep fighting.

Hopefully it would be done with after this, and he could finally get some rest.

“Do you know what you’re going to write?” Imelda asked, and Héctor turned his head toward her, more to acknowledge her than to actually look at her. After a moment, he shook his head and lowered it. “You’ll just need to figure it out when we get there. Anything you can tell them will help.”

Héctor wheezed out a sigh, which she felt more than heard. She tried to understand why he was so hesitant to tell them—perhaps it was like how she had avoided music for so long, since it brought her so much pain. But while this would bring him pain, ultimately it would help him, wouldn’t it?

This will be good for him, she told herself, subconsciously pulling him a little closer. The sooner he gets this out of the way, the better.

Pepita’s wings shifted, and they began their descent.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Óscar grumbled, sketching furiously into the book he held. “Dante is hardly violent!”

“Aside from that time he knocked the head off a security guard,” Felipe countered, snatching the sketchbook away and leaving his brother to attempt to draw on thin air for a moment. Frowning at the page, he began to make some of his own adjustments. “No, no, that’s too big, try...”

“He was protecting Miguel, that doesn’t count! And it’s not too big, what are you... oh...”

Coco shook her head at her tíos, turning instead to Julio, who appeared deep in thought. He’d woken up quite tired that morning, but insisted on getting up regardless. She got the feeling he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep, but there were more important matters at hand. “I still can’t believe Dante would do something like that,” she said, and her husband looked up. “Even when Dante caused trouble in the living world, he never hurt anyone. I remember.”

“And he was acting just fine last night,” Julio said, fiddling with his hat. “I wonder...” And he trailed off, rubbing his head in thought.

“Wonder what?” Coco prodded. ”Do you think he had a reason for attacking a stranger?”

“Assuming he attacked them at all.” Frowning, Victoria kept her gaze out the window. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a disgruntled fan of his, trying to knock us down a few pegs.”

“I don’t know, mija,” Julio said, crossing his arms. “Stealing a collar from an alebrije so they can frame him seems, uh... farfetched. I’m wondering if... if he found something.”

Heart leaping, Coco straightened. “You mean with what happened to Papá?”

All eyes in the room turned to Julio, who gave a nervous laugh, ducking partially into his rib cage. “I mean... maybe. Dante is an alebrije... Don’t you think he would understand what’s going on?”

Turning to face her father, Victoria gave him a deadpan look. “Yesterday he flew into a wall trying to reach a door that was in the opposite direction. I don’t think he has enough brain cells to understand something is wrong.”

“I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit, mija,” Coco said. “Your papá is right—Dante is an alebrije.”

With an annoyed hum, Victoria looked out the window again, rubbing her wrist in irritation. It was a gesture that Coco caught immediately, as did Julio. The two exchanged glances before Coco placed her hand on her daughter’s back. “Why don’t we sit in the living room?”

Keeping silent, Victoria complied, following the two into the living room. Julio and Coco sat on the couch, while Victoria remained standing, still holding her arm and not looking at either of the two. When she didn’t talk, Julio was the one to speak up. “¿Qué pasa, mija?”

“We know it’s not about the dog,” Coco added, and Victoria’s frown deepened.

“It’s nothing important,” Victoria grumbled, gazing out the window again.

“You’re never this distracted unless something is bothering you.” Julio patted the seat next to him, knowing it was a futile effort. “Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

When Victoria didn’t immediately answer, Coco had to hold out a hand to keep Julio from standing up and approaching her. Victoria would talk when she was ready.

Sure enough, Victoria stamped her foot, glaring up at the sky through the window. “I don’t understand the point of taking him to the police when we know he won’t talk. All he’s ever going to do is dodge the point!”

Coco’s brows rose in surprise—she hadn’t expected that. “He’s been through a lot, mija. You can’t blame him for not wanting to tell us all the details.”

“But it’s not us he has to tell them to. It’s the police! And if he hasn’t said anything to us, how do we know he’ll say anything to them?”

“Well... we don’t,” Julio admitted, pulling off his hat and tugging on the brim of it. “But he could always surprise us.”

“I doubt it, especially if the police actually say anything to...” Victoria trailed off, then shook herself. “It just seems like a waste of time, and unnecessary stress on Mamá Imelda.”

Chuckling, Coco shook her head. “It would be unnecessary stress on Mamá if Papá did not go to the police. You know she’s been prodding him about getting his statement out.”

“Well, it’s...” Now looking down at the floor, Victoria sighed. “It’s unnecessary stress on him, too.”

Julio raised his brows and glanced at Coco, who returned the look.

Seeming to catch her parent’s expressions, Victoria went on: “And if he is stressed out, it’ll be awful for the rest of us.”

Though she tried to cover for it, Coco knew what her daughter was really saying. “Mija,” she said softly, beckoning her daughter closer. But Victoria remained stubborn, arms crossed tightly and head turned away, so she went on: “You’re allowed to be worried for Papá Héctor.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried he’s going to cause more trouble for this family than he already has, that’s all.”

Coco gave her a knowing smile. “Of course, mija.”

“That perro isn’t much better,” Victoria went on. “It has to be one thing after another, doesn’t it?”

“That’s another thing,” Julio said, returning his hat to his head and staring down at the floor in concentration. “We don’t know they aren’t unrelated. Dante... perhaps he knows something we don’t. Maybe the person he tried to attack is...” He hesitated, tugging his hat down further. “...the one who attacked Héctor.”

Sensing something was wrong, Coco looked at her husband in concern. But he only glanced up at her briefly before reaching over and squeezing her hand—I can’t talk about it right now.

“Even if it isn’t, I’d like to know who it is.” Victoria was once more looking out the window. “I’m rather tired of people making things difficult for our family.”

“The police said the person wished to remain anonymous,” Coco pointed out, rubbing her thumb over Julio’s hand.

“It is strange, though,” Julio said. The other two waited for him to go on, but he remained quiet, squeezing Coco’s hand again.

Something was bothering him, and Coco was absolutely certain it wasn’t the news about Dante, or even Papá going to give his statement. She would have to resist trying to pry it out of him, at least for the time being—like Victoria, he would speak when he was ready. Usually.

“I’m going to go find him!” Rosita’s voice snapped them out if their thoughts, and Julio hopped out of his seat and rushed over to her.

“No, no, hermana, stay here for now,” he said as Coco and Victoria followed him back into the dining room. “Let’s... uh, we should wait until Mamá Imelda and Héctor get back.”

“Papá is right,” Victoria said with a nod. “They may come back with Dante, for all we know.”

“And perhaps they’ll return with news as well,” Coco agreed. “Let’s wait for now.”

Rosita sighed, wringing her hands. “I... I suppose you’re right. I just hope pobrecito Dante is okay.”

“And Papá.” Coco rubbed her wrist as she thought it over. “I hope he’ll be all right.”

“I’m sure he will be, mi amor,” Julio said quietly, taking her hand again. His expression told her he was less sure of himself than his words made him sound. “We’ll... just have to wait.”

“You can do what you like,” Victoria said, sighing as she moved toward the back of the house, toward door to the veranda. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

“It’s not fresh—”

“—in the Land of the Dead,” the twins said, still poring over their sketchbook, resulting in an annoyed “ugh” from the back of the house, followed by the creak of an opening door.

“Should we join her?” Julio asked, and Coco glanced around the room. The twins were still focused on their sketchbook, ignoring the mess of the abandoned breakfast at the table, and Rosita was staring out the window, looking out into the yard as though she expected Dante to come scampering in at any moment.

Victoria probably needed time to herself right now, but Coco knew her sister-in-law wouldn’t do well if she was left to fret over the missing dog. “Rosita,” she said instead, and her sister-in-law glanced back at her. “Would you like some help cleaning up?”

“Oh! Uh, sí. Gracias.”

With that, the three of them got to work on clearing the table, Rosita already looking more relaxed. Coco smiled for a moment, but looked back at Julio, finding her husband still appearing deep in thought. While it had been clear what was bothering both Victoria and Rosita, Julio was mystifying Coco right now. Part of her wanted to question him about it immediately, but not while they were helping Rosita. Even so...

When Julio moved to bring a stack of plates into the kitchen, Coco leaned in close to him. “Is it bothering you that badly?” she whispered, and he froze. “You can talk to me, mi amor.”

Julio grimaced, shaking his head. “L-later,” he whispered back. “I promise I’ll tell you later.”

Nodding, Coco backed away. “Later” could mean after they were done cleaning, or after they heard back from Mamá and Papá.

But if it had anything to do with any of this mess going on—and she was sure it did—”later” was going to be before tonight. She would make sure of that.

The police station loomed in front of them, and his every instinct was screaming for him to get away.

He’d been here before—many, many times before—back when he was still working on his schemes to cross the bridge. More than a few times he’d even been held in a cell (sixty-three times, in fact, if he’d kept his tally marks accurate) for his escapades, including incidents that had nothing to do with Dia de Muertos.

The police were familiar with him. He was familiar with them. The building was familiar. The one cell he’d been held in was familiar. After the first few times, it had ceased being scary.

Until now, when it was suddenly the most terrifying thing he could think of.

Héctor’s legs quit working, his knees locking shortly after Imelda helped him dismount from Pepita. The sudden stop caused Imelda, who had been at his side and helping him walk, to stumble, which subsequently nearly knocked him over.

“Héctor,” she said firmly, without looking back, and his legs moved mechanically, forcing him closer to the last place he wanted to be right now.

I can’t do this, he thought, swallowing as Imelda helped him limp up the steps. Her touch was the only thing that kept him from completely shutting down.

I can’t be here. Yet here he was, being led into the lobby and up to the front desk. He could feel the stares of people on him and lowered his head, not wanting the woman behind the counter to look him in the eye. Was she one of the people in contact with...?

He felt a sick twist in his gut at the thought that Imelda could unknowingly be conversing with one of Ernesto’s friends—one of the people just waiting for him to slip up and say the wrong thing. Or write the wrong thing—whatever they expected him to do.

Maybe they wouldn’t expect him to do anything. Maybe they would see he was in no state to talk (given he literally couldn’t), no state to even discuss nonverbally what had happened to him. They could send him home, and then he could just... never go back. That would be fine with him.

“All right,” the woman behind the counter said, and Héctor blinked, suddenly realizing that she had been talking to Imelda. “I’ll let Officer Heraldez know you’re here, and your husband can give his statement to him.”

A weight sunk deep into Héctor’s middle, and it took all of his strength to remain standing upright. Imelda kept a grip on him, however, and squeezed his shoulder gently. “You can do this, Héctor, and then we can leave. You won’t have to come back.”

Maybe I’ll have to come back... in pieces, when they have to identify what’s left of me after Ernesto’s goons catch me again, Héctor thought. His chest heaved in a pained, suppressed laugh, before he instinctively reached out to grab at his bandaged throat at the sudden, stabbing ache it caused his vertebrae. But his arm was already held back--by a hand, they were holding him down, he couldn’t even grab at the man to stop the knife—

Imelda squeezed his right arm gently, and he gave a short gasp as he found himself back at the police station. She gave him a questioning look, and he glanced away.

What had he been… oh, right. Yeah, I’ll definitely come back here in pieces, he thought, a grim smile crossing his features, right before a darker voice within him added: Or to identify the pieces of whatever is left of—

His entire body shook audibly in an attempt to banish the thought, but it still hung there, in the back of his mind. That’s what’ll happen if you mess this up, amigo. So don’t.

Before he knew it, Imelda was helping him out of the lobby and into another room, where they sat at a desk across from two police officers. The familiar situation clicked, and he looked from one officer to the other. Heraldez—he knew that one. Heraldez had arrested him three years ago, after his attempt at using a femur bone (that he may or may not have gotten permission to borrow) as bait for an alebrije (that he also may or may not have gotten permission to borrow) that he attempted to ride across the bridge. It wasn’t his best plan, and Heraldez hadn’t exactly been impressed either. He wasn’t the worst officer Héctor had known, at least. As for the female officer next to Heraldez, her name was... Ade... Adelita? Yes, he remembered her from when he’d accidentally crashed on top of another skeleton when jumping off a roof—purely accidental, but the poor man he’d fallen onto had thought he was being attacked. Not one of his proudest moments.

He almost greeted them by name on reflex, but caught himself before he hurt his throat.

...Oh. Right. That’s why he was here.

“We meet again, Señor Rivera.” Officer Heraldez gave him a nod. “So you’re here to tell us what happened?”

“He is, yes,” Imelda said, frowning. “But as you can see, he is unable to talk at the moment.”

Adelita glanced at her partner. “Should... this be postponed?” she asked, and Héctor perked up, hope fluttering in his aching chest.

“If he’s able to write, that should do well enough,” Heraldez answered, pulling out a notebook and a pen and sliding it across the desk. Héctor’s heart promptly sank.

Adelita pulled out a notepad of her own, clicking her pen and preparing to write. Sitting on the table between the two officers was a file, which the female officer opened, looking over a few details. “Well, Señor Rivera, looks like you’re not on the criminal side of things for once.”

Héctor flinched, glancing back at Imelda, who didn’t seem amused by the statement. She didn’t exactly know about his criminal record—not all of it, anyway.

“You were assaulted two nights ago,” Adelita said, pointing to one line in the file. “Is that correct?”

Any comfort he had had at the familiarity of the situation melted away. They were starting already—?! No, no, he wasn’t ready yet, what was he supposed to say...?!

Ernesto’s words echoed in his mind: If you decide that the media or police should know about this… perhaps I’ll have to see about getting a new pair of shoes for the interview, hm?

No, no no no... He couldn’t do this.

He shouldn’t be here.

“Héctor?”

Imelda’s voice brought him back, and he shuddered. What had they asked, again?

“Señor Rivera, please answer the question. Is it true that you were assaulted two nights ago?”

Shuddering again, he gave the tiniest nod he could muster. That wouldn’t hurt, right? He was just confirming what they already knew. What was it Ernesto had told him... He’d said something about only saying what was “right?” So maybe he could tell them... some of it? So long as it didn’t incriminate Ernesto, maybe. That would have to be enough.

“What were you doing on that night?”

Héctor’s gaze fell on the pad and pen in front of him, and he reached out to it mechanically, his hand trembling as he wrote: Visiting shanties.

His heart ached at the memory—a couple nights ago, he had been so happy just to be around his nearly-forgotten family. At the time, he’d only been thinking about how much he enjoyed their company, and how he also needed to get home to his other family, right before...

When the pad was passed back to the officers, they both looked it over. “‘Visiting shanties.’ You were visiting the nearly-forgotten?” Heraldez asked. When Héctor gave a short nod, the officer passed the notepad back and regarded him evenly. “Were you alone when you were attacked?”

Immediately his mind went back to the alley he’d cut through, where he’d tripped over some garbage. There had been the huge pile there, and... and then...

“Señor Rivera?”

With a short gasp, he nodded quickly, and tugged on his hat with his free hand. Just answer the questions, he begged himself. Just answer the questions and don’t think about it, por favor. All you need to do is answer the questions.

“Did you see your attackers at all?”

He saw the outstretched hand, which he readily took, and seconds later found himself face-to-face with the stark white features of the man who had murdered him.

Another shudder rippled through his bones, and he shook his head.

Adelita scratched something into her notebook while Heraldez gazed at him. “Can you remember anything about your attackers?”

He could remember that there were three of them, that Ernesto had been dressed in that dark trench coat, his bones were still far too white, he didn’t have any signs of any previous injuries, and two of his stupid bodyguards were there, dressed in dark sweaters, wearing sunglasses that obscured their eyes...

Héctor’s non-existent stomach twisted, and he shook his head. He was certain Imelda was staring at him, but he didn’t want to look over to see what sort of expression she had.

“You’re certain that your attackers are no one that you personally know?”

Once again Ernesto’s face flashed through his mind, with that strange expression, one he wondered if he’d seen in life.

Hearing Imelda shift in her seat, he glanced over at her, surprised to see her glaring... at the officers? Quickly he stole a glance at them, finding that Officer Heraldez was looking at her. Perhaps Imelda thought they were being too harsh.

Regardless, he nodded, his skull aching from the weight of the unspoken lie.

“What happened when you were initially attacked?”

Ernesto caught him off-guard and he tried to get away by leaving his arm behind which was such a stupid idea, that was how Ernesto caught his hand in the first place, and he tried to pull his bones back but Ernesto stepped on his arm and squeezed his hand until it hurt and—

Biting his lip, Héctor scrawled onto the paper: Jumped me in the dark.

“And how did you lose your hand?”

Ernesto took his hand into the building and beckoned him to come in. When he refused...

Pain lanced through his missing hand, and he gasped, pulling his right wrist closer to his chest and gripping it protectively. Was that... was that real? Had that really just happened? Or...

“¿Estás bien?” Imelda asked, placing a hand on his left arm.

While Héctor appreciated the gesture, his eyes fell on the police officers, who exchanged looks he couldn’t read. Did they need to know what was done? Did Imelda? Did they need to know about... about... about the pain that spiked through his absent hand, the banging and snapping and the agony that consumed him until he lost consciousness, but even then it hurt, it hurt...!

“Señor Rivera, if this is too distressing to discuss, you can talk to us at a later time,” Adelita said, her concerned voice cutting through the memory.

He wanted to nod yes. He wanted to run out of that room and never come back. He...

Turning to Imelda, he found her looking back at him with a stern expression. Except it wasn’t truly stern—he could see it in the slight crease in her brows, in the way she held herself, that she was worried. Worried for him.

Some part of him wanted to tell her the truth, wanted to tell her what had really happened, wanted to stop hiding. But the rest of him knew he couldn’t. If he gave any incriminating evidence against Ernesto, then Ernesto would act. And even if he didn’t... how much did Imelda need to know? How much was it fair for her to know? She didn’t need to be worried over him. She didn’t need to be more distressed than she already was... or more angry. Would she be angry, if she knew everything that happened? Would she—

Imelda’s grip tightened into a gentle squeeze.

You know I’m on your side, ¿sí?

Héctor exhaled shakily, looking from her to the notepad. Finally he reached out, scratching into it quickly: They stole hand, broke it.

Next to him, Imelda drew in a sharp intake of air, and he shut his eyes, leaning back against his seat. Her hand moved away from his arm, and he heard her hissing a few curses under her breath. The officers, meanwhile, remained silent, and all at once he felt overcome with panic—had that been too much to tell them? Were they going to report to Ernesto that he’d said too much?

When he opened his eyes, he found Heraldez holding the notepad and looking at his partner, the both of them exchanging looks he couldn’t understand. He had to get out of here, he had to get out—

Heraldez slid the notebook across the table again. “Was that the only injury you sustained?”

“Of course it wasn’t—look at him!” Imelda snapped. She may have shouted something else, but it sounded like she’d moved into another room, or he’d moved into another room and they were holding him down, even as he fought to get away, and there was the hammer coming down on his rib cage, and the knife digging into his throat, and he couldn’t breathe, it hurt, he was going to suffocate, he couldn’t breathe, the knife was stuck—

Distantly someone called for him, and someone grabbed his hand, and he frantically pulled away before striking his fist at his attacker, pushing himself back with his feet—get away get away get away don’t do this to me again get away—

The world tipped, and something jarred his spine. For a brief moment he couldn’t distinguish up from down before he realized he was staring at the ceiling—not the dark ceiling of the abandoned building he’d been lured into, but the white ceiling of a well-lit room at the police station.

...Oh.

“Héctor? Can you hear me?” Even in his dazed state, he could hear the barely-concealed fear in Imelda’s voice—she was wincing as she knelt next to him, one hand reaching out, but not touching him, while the other was placed on her own cheek. Why was she doing that, though? She looked like someone had...

...oh no.

He tried to scramble upright, but realized he was still in his chair—he’d knocked it backward. Seeing this, Imelda grabbed the side of the chair with both hands, easing it upright, and Héctor with it. With her hand off of her face, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but he knew—if she’d had flesh instead of just bone, there would have been a mark. Quickly he looked away, not wanting to meet her gaze, or that of the police officers. He needed to say something to her, if he could, but not here—he didn’t want to do anything around these police officers. He didn’t want to be around them anymore—he wanted out of this place.

“Señora Rivera,” Heraldez said at length, “I understand that time is of the essence, but I do not believe your husband is in any state to give us any further information.”

I’m right here, he thought bitterly as he glanced up at them. They were both looking at her, avoiding his gaze. Were they ignoring him? Or could they not meet his gaze for guilt...?

Imelda’s hand was suddenly at his back, and he drew in a short breath as she answered, “I understand.”

“If he recalls anything else, please let us know immediately.” Adelita slid a card over to Imelda. “Until then, he should stay at home and recover.”

Héctor almost nodded sharply to indicate that he was listening and that he could answer for himself, but he resisted the urge partly to spare his injured neck, and partly because he felt very, very drained.

“We’ll call you if we have any updates on the situation,” Heraldez added.

“Sí,” Imelda said stiffly. “I understand.”

She was angry, Héctor realized, and barely containing it. Sickness churned within his rib cage at the thought, but he would just have to deal with it—the only other option was telling her what he really did know, thus endangering her and the rest of the family.

Slowly she stood, and he winced as she helped him to his feet. Once again she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and he did the same as she aided him in limping out of the room, down the hallway, out of the station. All the while, Héctor tried to think of what he could possibly do to apologize for the absolute mess he had caused back there, and... His eyes flicked over to her cheekbone, and he felt sick as he wondered how hard he had struck it.

They stepped out the door. Pepita was still outside, her tail lashing irritably, but she perked up upon seeing them, ears twitching forward.

They were alone, aside from the alebrije. When Imelda took her arm off of him in order to help him mount Pepita, he turned to face her, hesitantly reaching out for her face, where he’d hit her. He had to say something—it would hurt, but he had to say it: “L-lo... s...”

“No,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow, and gently pushed his hand back down. “I’m sorry I brought you here, Héctor. I didn’t think that...” She stopped herself, her shoulders drooping.

You didn’t know, he wanted to say, but he had told her. He’d told her how he didn’t want to go through with this, even though he hadn’t said why. She’d known how uneasy he was about everything going on, yet she’d still pushed him to go through with this.

“I won’t give up,” Imelda went on, straightening again. “We will get your hand back, but I won’t force you to do something that will hurt you.”

While part of him wished that she’d determined that earlier, he found himself giving a faint smile before mouthing the word gracias.

Pepita scratched at the ground beneath her claws, her tail swishing. Sighing, Imelda turned to her alebrije, placing a hand on her, before turning back to Héctor. “Are you ready to head back?”

He nodded, and she helped him up onto Pepita once more.

It had been a terrible experience overall, but at least it was over... though he hoped he hadn’t said too much. As Pepita took off, fear bolted down his spine—his family could be in danger. For a moment he considered talking to Imelda about it, but he wasn’t sure how to communicate it to her, or what he could even say. Not to mention, he couldn’t do much while sitting on the back of a flying alebrije. He’d have to discuss it with her when they got back... somehow.

No one had followed her out back. Good.

Slowly shutting the side gate behind her, Victoria crept around the edge of the house, constantly keeping an eye on it to make sure no one glanced out the window and saw her. She knew her papá had said to make sure no one left to search for Dante until Mamá Imelda returned, since she could very well come back with Dante. So it was a good thing that Victoria wasn’t leaving to search for the dog, and if all went well, she could slip out and be back before anyone noticed she was gone.

Even if they noticed her absence, though, she couldn’t really bring herself to care, so long as they noticed it once she was far enough away. They’d have little to complain about once she got to the bottom of this mess with Dante. The incident surely wouldn’t have gone unnoticed, if there really was an attack that ended with an alebrije jumping out a window. Word would certainly travel about it, and she was going to figure out what she could.

Victoria was done with anyone messing with her familia.

#hector rivera #imelda rivera #coco rivera #coco #pixar coco #coco spoilers #rivera family #dante #pepita #fanfic #my writing #neither can you

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xioriv · 6 years

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[ cierra ramirez, cisfemale, she/her, twenty-four] INDEPENDENT WOMEN, PT. 1by DESTINY’S CHILD? whenever i hear that song, it reminds me of XIOMARA RIVERA. maybe because they’re FOCUSED but also BOISTEROUS. they’ve been living at mulberry apartments since JANUARY of 2019 in APARTMENT 701 and have 1 ROOMMATE. ( FUTURE FRIENDS, ANIMALS & ANGELS, & MOON RIVER ) [ tasha, she/her, 22, est ]

okay, so this may be shorter than athena’s intro, let's see earsgthydse

raised by parents who were in a polymer relationship (2 dads and 1 mom)

at first, it was just the 2 dads

she was adopted when she about 6 years old

she was first to be adopted out of her six foster siblings

is considered the oldest sister even though she has two siblings (they are twins) that are older than her (by 1-2 years)

she was basically the one who started the little welcome committee for each sibling that was brought into the family. she was kind of the leader of it efasrtdfyuftdtsea

she was the most responsible one out of all of her siblings

helped around the house a lot

she bonds with her dad, Manuel, over latine food, dancing, etc.

spanish is her first language and English is her second.

She calls Manuel, Papi, while she calls her other father dad

her mom died when she was in high school :(

nerd for math, lOVES MATH

but that doesn’t mean like shes extremely smart in it that she can do everything in her head afsgrtytse

shes very outgoing and easy to get along with

she loves dancing hip hop and contemporary when she has free time she’ll be at a studio dancing

went to college for accounting. got her MBA degree and is now working as an accountant

moved to Baltimore this January with her current girlfriend

likes to party but not much of a drinker, mainly the designated driver

She’s 5’1 but she wears 5-inch heels most of the time

she has a loud (lowkey hates it) laugh and can be loud in general esraesls

lowkey nosey, tell her the gossip EFWARJKARESJ

family person, like she loves being around her big family so it was hard for her to move from NYC to Baltimore

this is so short im sorry dsafdsfgskdfa

uhmmmmmm this is all I got right now, I’ll most likely add later

#soundintro #// im so not use to having short intros efawersrrea

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calliopesquill · 6 years

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A Year in the Life: Chapter 17

Hi everyone.

I'm so sorry this chapter is so late. I didn't get as much written as I had planned. This section has been fighting me a bit, and I've a lot to plan for the next few chapters, so it may be slow coming as I fine-tune what happens next. There's some pretty big stuff coming and I want to make sure that I do it properly.

This means unfortunately I will not be able to resume my weekly posing schedule. I will try to have a new chapter up every 2 weeks.

Thanks so much for your patience.

And with that, on with the chapter!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 17: It Takes a Murder to Catch a Murderer

Julio was visiting an old friend in town when he heard the news: after two years of evading the law, Ernesto De la Cruz was finally back in police custody.

The moment he heard he made his excuses and headed immediately for home.

He hardly dared to believe it. De la Cruz seemed to vanish like smoke after Día de los Muertos, with neither hide nor hair being seen of him since. To finally have him in custody again was honestly a little surreal. Julio was not ashamed to admit that he wished he’d taken a crack at that slippery snake in the grass himself during the showdown at the Sunrise Spectacular. Not just for his own personal satisfaction, but for all the heartache that Ernesto’s selfishness had brought to Julio’s beloved Coco.

Over the course of their lives together, Coco spoke to him often of her father. Never within earshot of Mamá Imelda or their daughters, of course, but during those quiet moments of their courtship, those rare times when they actually got to be alone. Coco did not have the luxury of many detailed memories of her father, being only three years old when Héctor left on that fateful tour, but she remembered his voice, his laugh, and the joy that had been the heart of their lives until the day he left. Although everyone else tried to convince her otherwise, there was a part of her that had always believed that he would come home someday. Julio remembered the hopeful glances towards the chapel doors the day of their wedding, the way her smile dimmed when someone else walked through the door. So when the truth of what happened to Héctor finally came out, Julio swore to do everything in his power to make things right again.

They had almost lost him that night. That Miguel had managed to preserve Coco’s memories of her father had been nothing short of a miracle. And when it came time for Coco to join them in the Land of the Dead, the look of joy on her face when she was finally reunited with her father was one that Julio would treasure for the rest of his days.

She had been devastated and furious to learn of what had befallen him, and Julio was quite certain that more than one of her exploratory ventures into the city over the last couple of years had been in search of the man she had once called her Tío Neto. His Coco was warm and bright as the sun, but many who looked at her forgot that sunlight could burn as well as soothe. With De la Cruz now behind bars, well, Julio was looking forward to the moment when Coco finally got her shot at him.

Julio picked up speed as the house came into view, clinging to his broad-brimmed hat so it wouldn't get lost behind him. He burst through the gate, skidding to a halt on the worn cobblestones, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with his sister.

Rosita caught him before he could fall, steadying him with careful hands. “Ay! Julio! What is it? What happened?”

“D-De la Cruz--” He panted, bracing his hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Que?”

“De la Cruz,” Julio repeated. “He’s been arrested.”

“QUÉ?!”

�� Rosita’s exclamation brought the rest of the family running, the twins colliding in the doorway of the workshop as they raced outside.

“What is it?”

“What happened?”

“Ernesto De la Cruz has been arrested,” Rosita answered, hardly daring to believe it herself.

“En serio?” Victoria asked

Julio nodded. “It’s all over town. Hernando and I heard it from Señora Marquez, whose Tía Maria works at the police station. She said they put him through booking a couple hours ago.”

“Where did they find him?” Coco asked.

“Well, that’s the crazy part -- “

Gustavo was late. This in itself was unusual enough to be remarked upon by the other band members. Gustavo was always early, mostly for the purposes of gossiping and ragging on any unfortunate band member who arrived after he did. It was agreed that he might be a bit pompous, a bit pretentious, but he had never in his entire afterlife missed a rehearsal. But with no word of his whereabouts either way, they were forced to begin without him.

No sooner had the opening bars left their instruments than a door swung open, striking the wall with a clang, and Gustavo burst into the warehouse. He didn’t even stop to close the door behind him, making a bee-line for the band. “De la Cruz has been arrested!”

The song ground to a squawking halt as the words sank in. As a one the musicians scrambled from their seats to hear the news, conveniently forgetting in wake of the celebrity arrest whose murder De la Cruz was guilty of. They didn’t notice how Héctor remained frozen in his seat, hands resting numbly on his guitar. They didn’t notice the look of panic, of pain in his dark eyes as he tried to keep himself together.

But Nell did. Instead of gathering around Gustavo with the rest, Nell went straight to her friend’s side, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You okay?” She asked softly.

Héctor nodded, grateful for the support.

“They brought him in about an hour ago,” Gustavo continued, reveling in the attention as even the artists abandoned their projects in favor of the news. “They’re saying he was dropped on the steps of the police station by a flock of alebrijes.”

“Wait, a flock?” The cellist asked with a small frown.

Gustavo nodded. “A bunch of giant birds! I didn’t believe it when he told me, but it’s all over the city. Dropped him in a heap right on the steps, and kept him pinned until the policía came out to investigate. ”

Héctor and Nell exchanged looks of silent communication. You don’t think --

Maybe? Who else could it be?

With the others distracted, Héctor and Nell gathered their things and raced immediately for home.

They were most of the way to the house when they ran into Coco and Julio. All it took was a single look at each other’s faces to see what they knew. Coco hugged her father tightly, fists clenching at his back as she struggled to keep it together. It was a good couple of minutes before either of them could find the words to speak.

“They found him, Papá,” Coco told him when she pulled back. There was a tense look in her eyes, part worry for her father, and what could only be described as a kind of eagerness.

“I know,” Héctor said, with an attempt at a smile. “Gustavo… he told us.”

Coco made a face of mild disgust. Like the rest of the Riveras, she couldn’t stand the violinist. She could only imagine the ham-handed method by which this news had been delivered. “What did he say?”

“Not much,” her father answered. “Just that he’d been found and brought to the police station by a bunch of alebrije. We thought he might have been making that up, but…”

“It’s true,” Julio confirmed. “I was in town with a friend when I heard, and came straight home. Mamá Imelda and the others have already left for the police station. She asked us to come and get you and meet her there.”

Héctor flexed his fingers unconsciously on the strap of his guitar case, then nodded. “Come on, then. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

They arrived at the police station to find it under siege. The entire street was packed with reporters armed with recorders, microphones, and cameras of every conceivable age and size. They watched the station doors like hawks eyeing a rabbit warren, waiting for even the slightest sign of movement. Pushing their way through the crush of reporters to reach the door was a battle in itself, and serious consideration was given to summoning Pepita or Buttons to disperse the crowd so they could get through.

A pair of stone-faced officers guarded the doors, preventing even the more determined of the reporters from simply pushing their way inside. Coco and Julio were first to gain the steps and were about to be turned away when Héctor and Nell finally broke through the crowd behind them. Thankfully one of the officers recognized Héctor from the Sunrise Spectacular incident two years before and after a brief argument with his partner, he allowed the group inside.

The inside of the police station was only marginally less hectic than the outside. Just because Ernesto De la Cruz had been arrested didn’t mean that all crime in the Land of the Dead had come to a halt -- though admittedly the crime rate in the Land of the Dead was significantly lower than it was in the Land of the Living. The center of the chaos seemed to be on the second floor, where a very angry, very familiar voice could be heard insulting the grooming habits and parentage of one Ernesto De la Cruz.

“Well… I guess we found Imelda”, Nell said, holding back a snicker of amusement. The sheer variety and creativity of Imelda’s curses was impressive, and Nell filed the more unfamiliar ones away in her memory for future use.

they made their way up the wrought-iron staircase, Imelda’s protests became clearer. Ernesto, it seemed, had been placed under solitary confinement, and would be allowed no visitors except his lawyers, and the officers assigned to the case. This was not at all what Imelda wanted to hear, as after that cabron murdered her husband and twice attempted to murder her great-great-grandson, she very much intended to crush his skull to powder with her boot. Which was not, of course, something that she said aloud, but was very much implied by the insistence in her tone.

Coco, absently fingering the fringe of her shawl, did not blame her in the slightest. It was she who knocked on the office door, nudging it open to find her Mamá shouting at officers Flores and Vega. She had to give them credit for standing their ground. Mamá Imelda was fierce when she was in a temper, and denying her took no small amount of courage. “Mamá? We found them.”

Imelda cut off her tirade, immediately running to embrace her daughter and husband. “Ah, mi familia! At last. This man, he says they have De la Cruz in custody, but they will not allow us to see him.” As she spoke she gestured to another skeleton behind the desk who was dressed in a charcoal-colored button-down shirt and black slacks.

“As we were explaining to Señora Rivera,” Officer Flores said with no little exasperation. “This is a very high-profile case. Ernesto De la Cruz is being kept in solitary confinement for his own protection.” They had considered putting him in a regular holding cell with the other inmates but there was such an uproar the moment they brought him in that a private cell was the only option. If the other inmates had simply been fans, that would be bad enough. But between the stolen songs and murder charges… Yeah, definitely better to stick him by himself. “Due to the public nature of this case, visits will be restricted solely to Senor De la Cruz’s lawyer. Officer Vega, myself, and Detective Espinosa, who is the lead investigator on this case.”

It was a reasonable precaution, all considered. Darn it. Imelda was not the only Rivera who had a boot with Ernesto’s name on it. Nell found herself wondering how many other musicians’ works Ernesto had taken credit for over the years.

Espinosa himself looked less than impressed with Imelda’s demands, though privately he thought that the woman deserved a few moments alone with her husband’s murderer. He’d wanted to take a boot to the bastard’s face himself. Unfortunately given his position these were not thoughts he could voice aloud.

“So, what happens now?” Julio asked.

“Much the same as before,” Officer Vega answered. “You are still in contact with Señor Bernal, si?”

Imelda nodded. Bernal had been assigned to their case early on, and they remained in contact with him in the months since. Less so recently, as until the events of a couple weeks before, it seemed less and less likely that De la Cruz would ever be apprehended. Imelda had sent Victoria and Rosita for him just before they left for the police station. “He should be on his way here.”

They arrived a few moments later with a tall, thin skeleton man dressed in a finely-tailored suit that might have become fashionable some time in the late 1960’s. Victoria and Rosita trailed behind him, a familiar blue crow alebrije with colorful trailing tail feathers perched on Victoria’s shoulder. The bird let out an excited caw and after giving Victoria a companionable nudge with her head, she swooped across the room to land on Nell’s outstretched arm.

“Hey, Lady. Were you keeping Victoria and Rosita company?” Nell asked as the bird side-stepped her way up to her shoulder.

“This is your alebrije?” Detective Espinosa asked her, standing up from behind the desk.

“One of them,” Nell answered as Lady gave a soft chirp. “Lady’s mom and a brother and sister.”

“Are the others birds as well?”

“Yeah. What is it you are trying to ask me, Detective?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just curious. You have some very clever alebrije, Señorita Rey. They managed to do what two years of police involvement couldn’t.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Héctor cut in. “Wait. Are you saying that her alebrije are the one who found Ernesto?”

The detective nodded. “Dropped him right on our doorstep. Your little blue Lady there had her talons hooked in his collar and would peck at his head every time he tried to get up. Her Mamá — I’m assuming she’s the big green one — just sat on him and wouldn’t let him up until a group of officers came to investigate.”

Julio pressed his mouth shut tight, his mustache quivering in his attempt to keep himself from laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the image.

“I don’t suppose any of you has a dog alebrije?” Espinosa asked, remembering something that he’d seen in the arrest report.

The Rivera’s exchanged looks. “Miguel’s alebrije is a xolo,” Héctor told him.

“Ah. Well, that explains it. There were also reports of a skinny, winged dog gnawing on De la Cruz’s leg.”

Miguel spent his next several lunch hours researching ghosts. There were certainly no shortage of reported hauntings, but none of the stories that he read was able to tell him what he wanted to know. What was it that kept spirits from crossing over? Oh sure, there were plenty of theories, but Miguel was 100% certain that half of the so-called “experts” out there hadn’t encountered a real ghost in their lives.

Based in the different accounts he had read, Miguel had been able to separate the types of hauntings into two separate categories: impressions and actual ghosts. Impressions were snippets of time and intense emotions that imprinted on a place. The apparitions that resulted often repeated the same few moments in time, over and over again, but never acknowledged the living world. And then there were spirits like Antonio and Candela, who were autonomous and did not follow any kind of time-loop restriction. As a whole both kinds of spirits tended to be limited to a certain area of effect, usually a single building or street. He wasn’t sure how it was that Antonio seemed to be able to wander anywhere he wanted in Santa Cecilia, and wondered absently how big his range actually was.

They had established the previous night that Antonio could not leave Santa Cecilia. Miguel had tried to take him to talk with Candela at the hospital to see if she had any answers, but he was unable to appear outside of town. Miguel spent the next hour catching up with Candela and checking on Nell. He knew from speaking to her parents that there had been no change, not that he had anticipated any, but he always felt better when he could see for himself.

Unfortunately the ghostly nurse didn’t have any answers for him. She didn’t know what kept spirits from crossing over any more than the people on the internet did. And nothing Miguel read gave him any clue as to how he could help Antonio cross over. Except for straight-up exorczing him, which was not at all something that Miguel wanted to do. Firstly, because that would mean telling people that he could see ghosts, and he’d rather keep that to himself if he could. And also, who knew where Antonio would be sent afterwards? He could end up in the Land of the Dead like he was supposed to, or he could end up somewhere terrible, or just completely disappear. No way would Miguel risk doing that to the poor kid.

He told him so one night while they were strolling through town. “It’s, like, the only thing that everyone can agree works but we’re not going to do that, I promise. We’ll find another way.”

Antonio nodded, keeping his eyes carefully ahead as they walked. “Thanks, Miguel.” What else could he say? He’d been resigned to being trapped in the world for so long, it was strange to have hope again. He didn’t want to trust it, and there was a part of him that was tempted to tell Miguel to just stop looking. It was impossible… wasn’t it?

“Hey.” Miguel reached out, catching his sleeve. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” the boy said softly. “I just...I don’t know why you’re putting in all this work for me. What do you care if I’m stuck here or not?”

Miguel did a double take. “¿Esperar, qué? You’re kidding, right?”

Antonio ducked his head, refusing to meet his gaze, and said nothing.

“Hey, look at me.” He gave the boy’s sleeve a short jerk. “Do you honestly believe I’d just leave you like this if there was anything I could do to help?”

“I -- No. Maybe.” Antonio admitted, looking shamefaced. “I just… I don’t know why you care so much. You barely know me.”

Miguel was silent for a moment. He had a feeling that Antonio wasn’t looking for an “I’d do it for anyone” kind of answer. “I don’t want to see anyone else left behind.” It seemed so obvious, once he finally said it aloud. “Papá Héctor, all of his friends in Shantytown…. Every one of them was left behind and forgotten. They disappeared because nobody passed their stories down. Kept separate from everyone else, even in the Land of the Dead. Nobody deserves that. Nobody deserves to be left behind. So I want to help you cross over, if I can. And I’m going to find your photo and add it to our ofrenda so you’ll never be forgotten.”

Antonio looked stunned. Never, in life or in death, had anyone ever been willing to do something so kind for him.

Miguel crouched in front of him, gently wiping the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Hey, It’s okay chico. We’re amigos, right? Amigos help each other.”

Antonio just cried harder, throwing his arms around Miguel and hugging him tightly. Miguel returned the hug, rubbing one hand soothingly over the boy’s back as he had seen his Mamá do to Soccoro when she cried. After a few minutes the sobs quieted, but Miguel did not pull away until Antonio was ready to let him go.

“You okay?”

The boy nodded, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and giving a watery sniffle. “G-gracias.”

“De nada.” Miguel said with a small smile. “You ready to head home?”

Home… That sounded pretty great. Antonio smiled back. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that concludes chapter 17! I hope it was worth the wait.

Love you all!

#a year in the life #ayitl #coco #pixar coco #coco fanfiction #original characters #hector rivera #imelda rivera #coco rivera #papa julio #miguel rivera

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