#coco slid down and just accepted it lol

[running-in-the-dark]

the cats were sleeping on my lap, Coco was half lying on Freddie. then Freddie moved...

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

Uhhhh drabble's still going right? Mustache Girl has a nightmare and CC comes in and calms Mu down after she wakes up. I love me some angst with some fluff mixed in... and I guess I want to see more Mu + Nightmare stuff lol.

Thank you for the request!

Nightmare

Something bad would happen when Mu got home. She kept walking though with a smile on her face even as each step made the world around her darken a little more; the sky fading from blue to gray, the streets becoming messier and littered with trash, the people’s smiles fading as more and more of them vanished. She had no choice but to go home though.

By the time she reached her house the streets were empty, the sky dark gray, and the streets and houses looking like they hadn’t been cleaned in years and smelling distinctly of rotting fish. Except for her house, it was intact, not a scratch on it despite the bad thing waiting inside. She hopped up the porch stairs and opened the door.

The living room too was clean. … Was that how it was supposed to be though? Was the furniture even right? Hmmm… didn’t matter. She ran up the stairs and down the hall to her parents’ bedroom where it was waiting. The door was wide open.

“You not accept Mafia’s new rule and even try to fight back, you die, is simple,” the Mafia goon said before stabbing Mom in the abdomen.

She screamed and fell over, the knife, still held by the Mafia goon sliding out. He bent down to stab her again.

Mu closed her eyes and covered her mouth, struggling to keep her sobs as quiet as possible. Mom had told her to hide and be quiet no matter what. And… she was too scared to move or make a noise even if she’d wanted to. She just cried and huddled in the corner of the closet instead, praying the sounds on the other side of the door would go away soon.

~

Mu woke all at once from the hand on her shoulder. She flinched and scrambled away until her back hit a wall. Cornered, she growled prepared to pounce at whoever had snuck up on her in her sleep. She’d claw their eyes out and…

It was Cooking Cat. “I’m sorry hon, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, her expression concerned. “You’re awake now though so that’s good.”

Mu relaxed, suddenly shaking. She was safe in her room in Cooking Cat’s apartment. It had been another nightmare, nothing new there but still bad. But at least this time she’d been woken up before the Mafia had opened the closet door and got her or she’d stepped out into a group of Mafia and gotten caught after a chase where she ran through what felt like molasses or heck sometimes her brain even supplied her with the dumb notion of just opening her eyes and suddenly being surrounded by a group of Mafia goons. Her brain never seemed to remember anything correctly about her mother’s death other than hiding in the closet listening to it. She’d rather it didn’t remember it at all though because then she wouldn’t need to dream about it.

“You okay now?” Cooking Cat asked. Despite having lived with her for almost a full month now, this was the first time she’d caught Mu having a nightmare. Probably because Mu had learned to keep those quiet while living on the streets. “Do you want to talk about it or…”

“No,” Mu interrupted. “I don’t want to talk about it. Thank you for waking me up, you can go now.”

Cooking Cat frowned. “Are you sure? Is there anything I can get you? Like hot chocolate or maybe some nice tea? Uh… I can stay up with you if you feel like you don’t want to go back to sleep yet, keep you company if you want.”

Mu fidgeted. The kindness Cooking Cat was extending to her never ceased to surprise her. … “Uh… hot chocolate sounds good.” Hot chocolate always sounded good, even more so now that it could also distract her from her nightmare.

“All right, let’s go to the kitchen and make some then.” Cooking Cat smiled and headed for the door, pausing to look back at Mu as she opened it.

Mu slid over and off the bed. She then followed Cooking Cat to the kitchen and watched her start to prepare two cups of hot coco. The clock on the stove said it was just after 2am.

“Why are you awake?” Mu eventually asked to break the silence.

Cooking Cat shrugged. “I have trouble sleeping sometimes. It’s better now than it used to be when I was younger but I still get nights where I wake up at stupid o’clock in the morning and can’t get back to sleep. Now uh… here you go.” She turned around and put one of the now steaming mugs into Mu’s hands. It smelled wonderful and the heat was nice.

“Thanks,” she murmured before taking a sip, careful not to burn her tongue. Cooking Cat made the best hot chocolate.

“You’re welcome dearie. What would you like to do now? I uh… don’t really have much experience with dealing with nightmares so… I’m not sure what to do to help.”

“I don’t want to go back to bed anytime soon.” Possibly for the rest of the night.

“Of course. How does watching TV sound? I was going to do that anyway. I don’t know if anything you’d like would be on at this time but we can check. If not, I got movies we could watch instead.”

That would help Mu get her mind of the nightmare and was certainly beat the lying around and feeling miserable that normally came after such dreams so… “Sure. And uh… thanks… for everything.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

For this request event.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Here’s my next entry for @badthingshappenbingo! Just one prompt left after this!

I AM NO LONGER ACCEPTING PROMPTS! The single-bone marks on the card indicate which prompts I have received and am going to write, and I finally have prompts that will earn me a bingo once they’ve been posted (but they’re not posted yet)!

This fic has also been posted to FFN and AO3, so you can check it out on my Assortment of Broken Bones collection on there if you like!

This prompt was suggested by @actingwithportals! I went with a slightly different interpretation, since I don’t really want to hurt Miguel. XD; Hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Outnumbered in a Fight Characters: Miguel, Abel, Abuelita (post-movie, pre-epilogue)

---~~~---

"Abel?"

Miguel's cousin looked up from his textbook—he was studying for a big test, and Miguel hated to bother him, but he was pretty sure this was going to drive him crazy if he didn't ask for help. "Um... could you... help me with a computer thing?"

Abel made a face, tossing his textbook across the table. "Sure. Can't be worse than studying for history, I guess."

Grinning, Miguel hurried off to the living room where an old computer sat in the corner, a pair of more modern headphones hooked up to it. The latter was a very recent addition, purchased shortly after the music ban was lifted. Before then, their computer had no sound at all—the speakers had immediately been tossed as soon as they'd acquired it. Now that it was equipped with headphones, many of the Riveras had been taking advantage of it... which was the problem.

"Look at this," Miguel said, waving a hand at the monitor as he scrolled through Youtube.

Abel squinted at the monitor. "Okay... What am I looking at?"

"Look, it's all history videos... I think those are from Papá, and... and a few music things I like, but there's also..." Miguel made a face. "Makeup tutorials." He scrolled past several recommendations with particularly atrocious thumbnails—clearly things recommended to their Tía Gloria.

"Huh. So...?"

"Could you... show me how to sign up? So it can recommend me the things I want? I think I'm gonna go crazy if I have to see another makeup tutorial."

"That's all?" Laughing, Abel gently shoved Miguel away from the computer and took a seat. "Sure, if that's what you want. But uh..." He glanced around the family room—no one else was there at the moment. "Don't let anyone know I did this for you, all right? You're kinda slightly too young to sign up."

"Pff, just by a month," Miguel argued.

With that settled, he watched as Abel guided him through making an email address (Miguel chose the name "GuitarraYZapatos05"), and, through there, set him up with an account. "And... there," Abel said, slipping off the stool. "You're all done. Just log off whenever you're done."

"¡Gracias!" Miguel slid back onto the stool, and Abel left him to browse the site.

Eagerly he put the headphones on and typed a song into the search bar—he'd known how to navigate the website for some time now, even before the ban had lifted, thanks to his friends showing him videos on occasion when he visited their houses. It was a lot nicer to be able to do it whenever he wanted—looking up songs he'd heard in the plaza and watching videos of people playing them. It was a great way to learn to play the songs, since he'd taught himself to do it by sight. Not to mention, he was discovering a lot of new songs this way (though he sheepishly had to skip over songs every so often—ones he was pretty sure if Abuelita ever heard the lyrics to, she would re-ban music... or at least computers, anyway).

For a good hour or so Miguel listened to different songs, at first paying attention to the videos, and then simply losing himself to the music, shutting his eyes and letting the next videos autoplay. This worked out fine for a while, but then...

"What color is the sky, ay mi amor, ay mi amor!"

Miguel jumped back, nearly tipping backwards off his stool, headphones going askew as his heart hammered in his chest. Even then, he could still hear the familiar voice, and the face on the screen was...

It was a friendly looking face, singing on a stage in front of many adoring fans. Occasionally the man would stoop down to sing a particular line to a girl in the audience, who would swoon over him as he winked. But the last time Miguel saw that face, saw that person, he hadn't looked nearly so friendly.

You're not going anywhere!

He could still feel himself held up by the front of his shirt, yanked closer as the eyes of the man—the one who had once been his hero—glared poison into him.

I am the one who is willing to do what it takes to seize my moment... whatever it takes.

"The loco that you make me, it is just un poco crazy!"

The fact that both the terrifying skeleton in his memory and the friendly-looking man in the video were the same person made Miguel feel sick, panicked, and very, very angry. Frantically he clicked several times on the screen to get the video to pause, and scrolled away so he didn't have to look at the man's face anymore. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, shuddering, wishing he could make the memory go away. If anyone deserved to be forgotten, it was Ernesto de la Cruz.

Once the panicked pounding of his heart finally calmed, he looked back at the screen. At first he'd thought that he should sign off for now—that was certainly enough videos for the day, and he felt like playing the real versions of his Papá Héctor's songs so he could get Ernesto's voice out of his head. But then something caught his eye, something he hadn't been paying attention to until now:

OMG, I love Ernesto! he's so flirty here lol

73 people got a bell dropped on their head

this is my favorite DLC song! he has so many good ones though, what a legend

I still have this one on a record. Ernesto himself signed the sleeve! It's my prized possession.

Comments—hundreds of comments, nearly all of them praising Ernesto for his looks, for what a great person he was, for "his" songwriting talent. Miguel felt his face flush in anger as he read more and more of them, all of these people who thought that Ernesto was the songwriting genius, and not his Papá Héctor...!

A part of him recalled that it had only been a month since Dia de Muertos, and the word hadn't gotten out to everyone yet, but it didn't make him feel any less angry. Seeing all of these people praise the man who had killed his great-great-grandfather and then tried to kill him not once, but twice was unbearable.

Unable to stand all the positive comments directed at this man, Miguel quickly found where he could leave a comment of his own, and began typing (a slow process with one finger—he hadn't learned to type properly yet):

Ernesto is the worst musician!! He stole all his songs! Theyre not his! Hes not a real musician!!!

Still fuming, he hit the reply button, and sat back on his stool. One comment probably wouldn't do a whole lot against the hundreds of people fawning over Ernesto here, but he'd thought it might make him feel better to say something.

A notification popped up at the bottom of his screen—someone had... replied to his comment?

Lol, what? Chill out. I'm sorry you don't like the greatest musician of all time.

What? No, that wasn't...! Frustrated, Miguel typed up another reply: Hes not!!! Hes a fraud!!! Hes not a real musician at all!

To his surprise, even more comments came in, this time from several people within moments of each other:

sure, Ernesto is a fraud, just like Elvis, right?

you!!! need to use more!!!! exclamation points!!!!!!

lmfao did you create this account just to troll a DLC video uploaded 7 years ago?

Great, now everyone was making fun of him... but it wasn't funny—Ernesto really did steal all of his songs, and... He shook his head—this wasn't fair. He typed up another reply to the thread (making sure to use fewer exclamation points, if they were going to make fun of him for it): Im telling the truth! He stole all his music from my greatgreat grandpa. He wrote all the songs Ernesto sang including this one.

OMG. OMGGGGG.

no actually dcl is my great great uncle and he told me hmself he wrote all these songs and that if I ever met youtube user ""guitarrayzapatos05" i should tell him that he screwed ur mom

Guys I think this is a kid......

Geez I always hear people say they're related to DLC (wouldn't be surprised, the man supposedly slept around like a rabbit) but this is the first I've heard someone say he stole from their relative. We've got a new nutjob conspiracy theory, fellas.

Adsfjsdflasjfsda;lfjlsajslfdjlds;adj

Miguel wasn't entirely sure what some of this stuff meant, but he did know all these people were mocking him, and with every new reply he felt the anger build in his chest, though his cheeks also felt hot with embarrassment—why was everyone ganging up on him like this? Your all making fun of me! But Im telling the truth!! Ernesto is a bad person and a bad musician! He really did steal from my greatgerat Grandpa!!

He stole from my greatgerat Grandpa too.

Lol how long do you plan to keep this up kid?

Listen, if DLC really did steal his music, we would have heard about it by now. He died almost a century ago. You don't think people haven't looked into this?

he ded 75 years ago moron

omg do u ever shut up

At least one person was being civil with him, but even then they were wrong. Still, Miguel had no idea what to say—his family was still fighting to get this case to the news, but with Mamá Coco having recently passed and his baby sister nearly here, they hadn't had a lot of time to work on it. But maybe he could bring something else up. He typed as fast as he could, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes:

I know he stole it! I found out when I went to the Land of the Dea—

The screen went dark.

Miguel sat there for a moment, stunned, before he heard a slobbery chomping noise coming from beneath the desk. Looking down, he spotted a familiar tail poking out near his stool. "Dante!" he cried, hopping down to yank the dog away.

As he suspected, the power cord was in the dog's mouth, and he was chewing on it lazily.

He was normally used to Dante getting in the way of things, but he felt angrier than normal at the dog. "No! No! Bad dog!" he cried, and swatted Dante on the nose.

The dog whined, immediately dropping the cord and squirming away from Miguel's grasp.

"S-stupid dog, wha'd you do that for? I was just trying to tell them about—!"

"What's going on in here?"

Both Miguel and Dante turned around to see Abuelita hurrying into the room. "I-it's nothing, Abuelita," Miguel said, and frantically wiped at his face.

Abuelita crossed her arms, looking from Miguel, to Dante, to the computer. "Nothing, huh! Is that computer box giving you trouble?"

"I—no, it's... it's not that..." He winced as Dante licked at his face and pushed him away.

"Don't give me that. It must be something, if it's got you so upset."

Abel's voice came from the hallway: "Ummm... did something happen?" Stepping into the room, he blinked at the monitor. "Huh, why's it—WOAH!" Quickly he got down on his hands and knees, grabbing the partially-chewed power cord and plugging it back in. Hitting the "on" button on the machine, he heaved a sigh of relief when the computer began to boot up again. "Geez, I thought you'd broken it."

"Oh, is that all?" Abuelita chuckled. "See, it's fine, mijo."

Dante looked up at the computer and barked at it, and Miguel frowned, using the stool to push himself back up to his feet. He rubbed the heel of his hand into his eyes. "Yeah, I... guess."

"Wait... what did you do on there?" Abel asked, suddenly worried. He quickly glanced from Abuelita and back to Miguel, biting his lip.

Sighing, Miguel, wrapped his arms around himself. "I just... saw some dumb people talking... about de la Cruz," he mumbled.

"Ugh, that man?" Abuelita said, shaking her head. Miguel wondered if she realized she said it in the exact same way she used to refer to Papá Héctor.

"People talking about... oooh, you read the comments, didn't you?" Abel asked, and laughed. "Never read the comments, Miguel!"

Feeling his chest constrict, Miguel balled his hands into fists and held them at his side, glaring at his primo. "It's not that! They were—they were talking about how great de la Cruz was, and—and when I told them he wasn't great, he was a thief, they... they just made fun of me!"

"¡¿Qué?!" Abuelita shouted, then shot an accusatory glare at the monitor. "I will not have people mocking my grandson! Where are they?"

"No, no, Abuelita, it's not like that." For a moment it looked like Abel would laugh again, but he saw how serious Miguel was about this, and frowned. "Well... they don't know yet, Miguel."

"But I tried to tell them!" Miguel swung out his hands, and Dante whimpered, butting his head against Miguel's leg. "I—I tried to tell them that they were wrong, but they just... kept making fun of me. And there were so many of them! I just..." Finally he brought his arms down, grasping his right wrist in his left hand and staring down at the floor. "I just felt like I was all alone."

Feeling his Abuelita's arm wrap around his shoulders, Miguel looked up to see her looking at him seriously. "You're not alone, mijo," she said. "Every single one of us here in this family are standing right behind you. We know the truth about Papá Héctor and that man now, and we won't stop fighting until the whole world knows."

"Y... you mean it?" he asked, hope creeping into his heart again.

"Absolutely. He is family, and we won't give up on him."

A huge smile spread across his face as he wrapped both arms around his abuelita, hugging her. "Gracias, Abuelita."

Laughing, Abuelita returned his hug with a bone-crushing one of her own, squeezing around his back until he was left gasping for air. "Now go have fun, mijo, and don't worry about what the people on that computer box say. They'll understand soon enough!" With that, she happily walked back toward the kitchen to start on dinner, leaving Miguel and his cousin alone.

Abel shifted on his feet, glancing from the computer to Miguel before giving an awkward laugh. "I, uh... know we went through the trouble of setting up a Youtube account for you, but uh... maybe you should stick to Spotify."