#imelda investigates au

[legacygirlingreen]

Strumming Hearts // Modern! Sebastian Sallow x MC

Authors note: another collaboration with @darch7995 , if y’all aren’t listening to her audios idk what all are doing! This is a modern, rocker Sebastian AU with lots of flirting, tension and happy ending I swear! I def might follow this up with a part 2 at some point. Lots of that 2014 tumblr era vibe going on! Also song is “new perspective by P!ATD

Part 2 of fic is here

Link to audio version(s) here!

Part 1; Part 2;

Love you all 💚

Word count: 6k

Warnings: flirting, teasing, mild angst, suggestive language, groping, nothing too intense

“Stupid friends, on a weekday no less, to the stupid club to see a stupid-“ she muttered into her drink as she leaned against the bar to herself as she stirred her vodka cranberry that Natty had thrust into her hands before she wandered off with the rest of their roommates to try and find the band members before the show.

MC hadn’t wanted to come. Not only had she never listened to this new band, that seemingly everyone around her was obsessed with, but she had finals to study for. On top of that, her usually level headed friends like Natsi, Poppy and Imelda seemingly couldn’t keep it together when it came to just 3 random guys roughly their own age with some instruments.

“Bad night?” A voice behind her said almost directly into her ear and she almost dropped her drink from shock.

Whipping around to see whatever asshole had gotten so close that she could feel his breath on her ear - a strong invasion of space in her mind despite being a necessity in the loud and packed club - she prepared the scowl in advance. As she did so she was confronted with a sight that made her question her desire to scold the man for getting too close.

Dark eyes that cut through her like a knife, however upon further investigation were not cold as she expected. They were warm, honey colored flecks near the center and very inviting despite how deep they ran. As if those dark eyes were swallowing her whole in fields of barley at sunset.

Dark hair to go with the dark eyes, perfectfully tousled as if he constantly had a hand running through the unruly locks. It fell around his head in a slightly shorter style than most of the males in the crowded room, but still maintained the rock and roll vibe of the majority of their peers. Towering over her in height and playful smile upon his full lips.

The one thing that shocked her the most was the endless supply of freckles dotting his extremely handsome face. Attractive enough that the words die upon her tongue, reducing her into a sputtering mess.

He was absolutely stunning. And based on his smirk, he knew it.

What had he asked her again? Oh yeah, if she was having a bad night.

“I suppose. This is just not how I wanted to spend my evening” she said with an eye roll as he smiled down at her.

“Don’t like live music?” He asked her curiously.

“I never said that.” She retorted, taking a long sip of the drink in front of her, as his eyebrow raised.

“So you are here for the show-“ he started but she stopped him with fervent shakes of her head.

“I’m here because my friends promised they’d stop asking me to go out for at least a month if I agreed to come tonight. I have finals coming up and it seemed like the better trade off for a month of peace and quiet” she explained with a shrug as she dug in her jacket pocket, desperately searching for her packet of cigarettes.

“Interesting…” he said without elaborating as he watched her fish a cigarette out of her pocket before attempting to find the lighter.

She seemingly came up empty, frustrated as she went to shove it back in her pocket.

“Need a light?” He asked, holding up a lighter, giving it a small shake as she nodded her head. Just before she could grab it from his hand he smirked.

“Might I bum a cig?” He asked.

“I suppose that’s fair,” she said, fishing another out of her jacket pocket as the sleeves slipped down her arms, exposing her dress straps and shoulders. Handing the cigarette into his outstretched hands she looked to him expectantly for the lighter he promised. Upon receiving the cigarette he joyfully passed off his lighter as his dark eyes scanned the recently revealed skin and the exposed top of her dress, making no attempt to hide the way he lingered on her breasts.

She placed it between her lips, lifting the small device up and striking it as she lit the end of the cig before taking a drag. As she went to hand his lighter back she caught some words written on it, and even in the dim lighting of the club she could still make it out.

If you wanna fuck, smile when you give me back the lighter.

Her eyes immediately went wide as he chuckled at her panicked reaction as she handed the lighter back.

“I mostly keep it for the shock factor at this point” he explained as he lit his own cigarette and re-pocketed the lighter as she decided the warmth of the club was not worth keeping a jacket on if he was already attempting to stare. So MC slipped her jacket off her arms and tossed it on the bar's counter.

“You don’t seem like the type to complain if it gets you laid though” she retorted after taking another drag and he smiled.

“Would anyone?” He asked and she took another sip of her drink, realizing he didn’t have a drink in his hand. Nearing the end of her vodka cran, he flagged down the bartender, allowing the curiosity of the character beside her. Not many people would stick around to hang with a girl who seemed as annoyed as her right now.

“Considering most men I’ve picked up in bars aren’t exactly as skilled as they claim, I would say that lighter seems like a walking red flag” she explained with a small grin and instead of getting upset he laughed.

“Perhaps I keep it around as a warning so smart girls like you know to stay away…” he told her and she let out a small laugh at his antics, finally successful in flagging down the bartender.

“What can I get you?” The man asked her.

“Can I get a refill on my vodka cran and a shot of tequila … along with whatever the gentleman wants. And I’ll start a tab” she explained, handing him her card before turning to the man beside her, gesturing for him to order.

Sebastian had been very surprised at her buying him a drink, as usually the girls he met gave him pretty smiles until he got them whatever fruity drink they desired. Instead this very grumpy girl, who he determined didn’t have a clue he was in the band her friends came to see, offered to buy him a drink.

“Uh… Jack and Coke and I guess a shot of tequila if the lady is having one” he told the man who nodded before turning away to grab their drinks.

“Thanks for the drinks. I can’t tell you the last time a lady picked up the tab for me. Pops is probably rolling in his grave for breaking propriety but I know for a fact he wasn’t always a gentleman either” he said with a genuine and intrigued smile.

“I won’t tell him if you don’t… I tend to find myself liking to do the opposite of what everyone else does” she said with a shrug.

“Just to be different out of principle or just a naturally inclined rebel?” He asked as the man set down the drinks in front of them.

“Depends on the circumstances I suppose” she said, lifting the tequila shot, gesturing for him to do the same. “What do you want to toast to?” She asked him as she set her cigarette into the tray on the bar.

“How about a night of being rebels?” He asked her and she nodded well enough, lifting the shot glass and taking a large lick of the salt on the rim as he did the same, the both of them clinking the glasses before tossing their heads back before reaching for the like wedge to bite.

Sebastian enjoyed the way the shot went down his throat and she seemingly did too as she smiled, tossing the lime in the glass and pushing it back.

“Now back to this question… I’m interested in these different circumstances?”

“Like I said it’s unique each time… growing up I tended to be a bit eccentric without thinking on it, so that I would say is natural born rebellion… but sometimes I just like to do the opposite of what everyone else is for the shock factor, much like your lighter” she explained and he nodded, understanding it quite well as he too got in much trouble as a kid and enjoyed the over the top nature for the humor it provided.

“I get that. What kind of things do you differ from the norm just to be different then?” He asked while watching as she took a sip of her drink, and he strategically leaned in closer to her body to hear her better, but also feel the warmth of her skin through his jeans.

“Well I came tonight to see a band I have intentionally been avoiding, despite them probably being the type of music I’d enjoy simply because my flatmates never shut up about them, simply because it’s funnier at this point to double down” she explained with a small smirk playing along her matte painted lips before she reached into the ash tray to retrieve the cigarette, taking a drag. So she didn’t know who he was.

“That’s interesting… I understand the sentiment there quite well… can I tell you a secret” he asked with a mischievous grin and she nodded. He leaned in closer as if this secret was one that was well guarded.

“I have never seen Star Wars and at this point continue to avoid it simply so people freak out when I tell them” he said before leaning back, and just as he predicted she was mouth agape at his confession.

“But that’s, that’s different… I mean come on, it’s Star Wars…” She said, trying to put it together and he smiled gesturing to her reaction and she rolled her eyes as he reached up to her hand, carefully removing the lit cigarette from her grasp with a raised brow and she nodded that he could take a drag as he had long finished the one she had given him while waiting for drinks. He did so, following it up with a sip of his drink and passing the cigarette back to her hand as he noticed the lipstick around the rim.

“Because at this point it’s more fun to watch those reactions like your own than actually watching the movie, I guarantee” he explained and she shook her head.

“You’d be wrong. You don’t even know what you’re missing. It’s like an amazing world with fun characters and epic stories and laser swords. And a whole army of rebels” she explained and the more she spoke the more he watched her cool girl image disappear as a very wholesome, internal nerdy girl came forward and the reaction made his heart beat hard. Extremely unexpected but it was equally adorable.

“I didn’t realize we had such an adamant Star Wars defender in the audience tonight… perhaps I’d be willing to rethink my position on the space opera saga..” he proposed as she took a sip of a drink to cool her warming cheeks.

“Oh yeah, what would change your mind?” She asked, she gestured with her drink as she set it back down .

“You give the band tonight an open mind…” he said with a grin and while he had expected her to go along with it but instead her face fell.

“Not you too.” She said with a groan, reaching up to take another drag before finishing off the cigarette.

“What’s so wrong with the band you’ve never even listened to yourself?” He tried to reason.

“It’s all that they talk about. All day. Every day. Cooking dinner. Doing laundry. Taking a shower. Never can escape it. I don’t get much free time between my classes, work and studying. What little bit I do have has been invaded. I’m sick of it” she explained with another eye roll shifting away from him.

“I suppose I get your frustration… You can still go into it with an open mind-“ he levied and she shook her head.

“Nope. I’m committed to the stubborn act at this point.” She retorted, making him laugh. She has conviction he’d give her that.

“Well if you hate this band so much, what kind of music do you actually like Miss Rebel to society who loves Star Wars?” He asked.

“I don’t know…” she said looking back into her drink a smirk playing on her lips as she denied him the information, knowing he likely would do as most men and roast her taste in music.

“You don’t know what music you like?” Sebastian asked jokingly.

“No, I know that. I just assume you’ll do that thing most men at bars do, where they roast my taste in music and say they had an earth shattering experience listening to the dark side of the moon for the first time” she explained with an eye roll and he barked out a laugh.

“That’s a fair critique, but I don’t plan on shitting on your taste in music. It’s a personal preference. Try me” he told her, downing the rest of his drink.

“Fine. I like stuff like arctic monkeys, cigarettes after sex, panic at the disco… that sort of vibe” she explained while taking another sip before running a palm over her opposite shoulder trying to brush away the goosebumps. As she did so he noticed several tattoos littering her arms, one in particular catching his eye.

“Wow that’s a really cool tattoo? What is it?” He asked changing the subject as he raised a hand up to stroke the exposed skin. The artistry was phenomenal, showcasing vivid shading despite only being black and white. His thumb rubbed along her shoulder as he examined it with a small smile playing on his lips. She looked over her shoulder and saw the one he was referring to as she had a few lining her body.

“Oh that’s one I drew. I really love mythology. it is my take on the Mares of Diomedes” she explained and he was astounded by not only her artistry but also her love of mythology, one he related to.

Slipping off his jacket, he showed the girl the healed hyper realistic ink depicting the marble statue of Apollo that laid on the inside of his bicep on the arm closest to his heart. Famous twin of Artemis and a tattoo he carried for his own sister.

As he did so, she ran her hands over the exposed skin, not only noticing the ink but also seeing the trail of freckles lead down to his tanned arms. As she did so, she trailed her sharp dark nails along his skin, making him shiver before she let go.

“Apollo, very nice…” she said in a low voice with a smile.

“What were you saying, sorry I tend to get distracted kind of easily… oh yeah those are all wonderful bands. As for tonight… I still think you should keep an open mind especially if you like those bands…” he said cryptically as he looked around. He knew likely he’d have to slip backstage but the girl didn’t know that.

“Hmm” she thought for a moment as she finished her drink, setting it on the counter and grabbing her coat. “I’ll bear it in mind. I should probably find my flatmates. They abandoned me when we got here trying to see if they could meet the guys in the band before the show” she explained and the notion made him chuckle that her friends had failed and she had succeeded where they hadn’t.

“Of course” he said with a smile, knowing this was a perfect time to slip off.

“I would be… more inclined to have an open mind if you stuck around… it’s actually been pretty fun talking to you so far…” she said with a smirk falling off her lips and she slid in close and he absolutely adored her confidence in her movements and words. She looked up at him through her lashes, accentuated by the thick Smokey makeup around her eyes.

He was almost annoyed when she wrapped a hand around his arm once again at the bicep, not because he didn’t want her touch, but because he knew that she likely wouldn’t respond well to his necessary rejection of watching the show together.

Sliding close to put his lips near her ear he wrapped his other hand around her waist to pull her closer.

“As much as I would love that I unfortunately can’t…” he explained trying to muster some sort of an explanation that would lead to him being able to get her number after the show still.

“I just thought…” she said somewhat dejected but still seemingly trying to maintain a level head.

“I really am sorry… I’ve enjoyed the company Love, trust me, but-“ he tried to explain as she remained hooked around the waist by his hand. Shockingly she hadn’t pushed him off.

“Bash! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Anne. He dropped the girl as his twin jumped into his arms without warning, pressing a kiss to his cheek in the loving fashion he was accustomed to. He cringed realizing how this would look, but before he could explain the girl had already taken a step back looking mortified.

“You slipped away for water a while ago! What took so long?” Anne innocently asked and the girls face fell so fast.

“I’m sorry I held you up, excuse me.” She said, pushing past him, shoving him with her shoulder as she did so and Sebastian groaned, removing Anne.

“Fuck.” He said as his sister pulled him back towards backstage.

“Were you actually - Sebastian you never talk to fans” she said and he awkwardly chuckled.

“She actually seems to hate our band on principle so I don’t think she’s a fan” he said and his twin raised a brow and he shook his head.

“Long story but she piqued my interest. I suppose now she probably thinks I’m a cheating git who was taking drinks and flirting with her while having a girlfriend” he explained with an annoyed sigh and Anne looked at him apologetically.

“Seb, I’m sorry. I can try and find her and explain before the set if you’d like-“ she tried to reason.

“Don’t worry about it Annie. I’m sure I’d have found a way to screw it up anyways…” he said, as they flashed a badge to security before stepping into the room with the rest of his friends and bandmates.

“Dude where the fuck did you go?” Garreth asked with an annoyed sigh.

“Seb was talking to a girl,” Anne said.

“I was until someone ran along and screwed it up” he said trying to bite back the realization as he moved to dramatically flop on the couch next to Ominis.

“That’s not like you… must’ve been a real smoke show” Garreth responded with a laugh and he nodded to agree.

“I mean, yeah, she was hot, but-“ Sebastian explained when Ominis cut in.

“She must’ve been more than a pretty face to peak your interest” his blind friend levied and he nodded.

“She was really funny, and said she goes to Uni so smart too… I wish I could’ve gotten her number.” He said with an annoyed groan, reaching for his guitar which was propped up near the couch.

“Did you get her name? Could say something during the set” Ominis suggested.

“I didn’t get that either,” he explained.

“Damn. You can always point her out to Annie -“ Garreth reasoned and he shook his head.

“It’s not a huge deal. I doubt she even will stay for the full thing. She told me she’s only here because her friends forced her. She actually seemingly hates us on principle and at this point is committed to being stubborn just for the humor of it” he explained with a chuckle.

“Seems like you’re made for each other ‘Mr I refuse to watch Star Wars even when it’s my twins favorite movie” Anne said with a laugh and the others joined in.

“Oh well” he said trying to ignore the semi sad feeling lingering in his stomach at the thought.

“Well mate, if anything changes during the set go for it. You know I never mind, besides you’re the front man anyway. It’s always your call” Garreth said, standing to grab his bass.

“Actually…. Is it cool if I make a small change to the lineup…” he said, a brilliant idea in mind and a room full of his favorite people eager to hear his plan.

—————————————————-

“Where did you go?” Poppy asked cheerfully as she rejoined her friends. It wasn’t long after she separated from the mysterious man that she’d been chatting with that she ran into Imelda, who escorted her back to the rest of the group. Natty and Poppy had been saving a spot right at the front of the club waiting for the band to start and had sent Imelda to go find her.

“I stayed where you left me basically the whole time” she explained with an annoyed scowl still on her face.

“I know you’re not happy about being here but I thought once you got out maybe you’d have a good tim-“ Natty started and she let out the frustration of the situation prior slip out.

“I actually was having a great time talking to some guy. I bought him some drinks, we were having a good conversation, turns out he’s got a similar tattoo and understands my need to be stubborn. He’s never even seen Star Wars simply out of principle” she said with a dramatic sigh as her friends smiled at her.

“Well that’s great” Imelda said looking around. “Where is lover boy then?” She asked and MC shook her head.

“I think the girl that jumped into his arms and kissed his cheek would know better than I am where he is now” she explained as the others looked at her sadly.

“Oi what an arse. Point him out if you see him. I would love to have a few words…” Imelda said, and she knew it wasn’t that deep. The lighter should’ve been a red flag after all…

“It’s alright Melda. Don’t worry about it. He’s not worth the time. We are here for you guys to see your band and then I’m off to bed when we get home” she said as Poppy offered her a comforting smile.

“Was he at least cute?” Natty asked as the other two glared at her; prompting the girl to defend herself by asking “what? It’s just a question?”

“Unfortunately yes. Very sexy… tall, dark and handsome incarnate…” she said, plucking another cigarette out of her pocket as Poppy looked around the room.

“Why don’t we get you another drink if you hold our spots up here. Cheer you up some. Especially since you’ve attempted to be a decent sport tonight despite that asshole” the girl said and she would’ve rejected it, but a drink did sound nice right about now.

“That would actually be lovely Poppy, I’ve got a tab open if you want something-“

“Don’t worry it’s on us, come on Natty we will be quick” Poppy said grabbing their other flatmate, leaving her with Imelda to hold their spots right in the front of the stage.

“I stand by what I said, I’ll deck him if you need me to” Imelda said and she laughed, grabbing her friend into a droopy hug, pressing a kiss to the girls cheek.

“You’re the sweetest Melda” she said playfully as her friend intentionally dropped her arm and wiped her cheek with a sarcastic eye roll. Imelda was the tomboy of their group, coming out to the clubs in a simple tank top and jeans, minimal makeup and usually the protective one when it came to any of their flatmates and boys.

“Yeah, yeah” she said with a small smile before looking around the room, and MC couldn’t tell if it was protectively trying to keep an eye out for the mysterious man who had hurt her friend or to keep an eye on their other roommates, but she didn’t question Imelda’s surveying.

“You all manage to sneak backstage in my absence?” She asked Imelda who laughed it off.

“No but they sure tried and I had to talk them down. There’s always after I suppose. But I promise to wrangle them in a tad in case you’re desperate to avoid mystery man. You haven’t seen him since?” She asked once again looking around the room and MC shook her head as Poppy and Natty rejoined them.

“One drink for the most beautiful girl in the room” Poppy said with a smile, as she passed her a refill on her drink.

“Thanks Sweets, and no Imelda I haven’t. I promise to point him out if I do” she said just as someone came on stage, and her eardrums almost burst as the 3 girls next to her got excited when he asked if they were ready for the performance.

As the lights went dark she tried to just mentally disassociate, the sooner this was over the faster she could get into bed. And the little spark in her that had desired to give the band a chance died when the mystery man asked her to go in with an open mind.

A few more shouts of excitement from her friends and various people in the audience as she sipped her drink before the lights came on and she felt like a deer trapped in headlights.

Fuck.

“Aren’t they all just so dreamy?” Poppy said with a starstruck smile and her face immediately soured. Looking confused, Poppy went to ask what was wrong when she looked back up to the man from earlier, who happened to be standing in the center of the stage with a guitar.

Before she could lean into her friend to shout in her ear he looked at her, mostly given she was directly in front of the stage. MC rolled her eyes at him as he looked down at her from behind the mic stand.

“MC he’s looking at you!” Natty said with a cheerful exclamation.

Instead of backing down Sebastian walked slightly forward as he kept his gaze trained on her and her friends seemingly lost their minds over the action. Adding insult to injury he had the gall to wink at her, very obviously.

“Oh my stars” Poppy said lovestruck as she watched the front man of the band openly flirting with her friend in front of the crowded room.

In response MC only narrowed her eyes at the man and leaned towards Imelda so she could speak to her before saying “there’s the guy from earlier. Go get him Melda” she said mischievously before pointing to him and rolling her eyes and turning to leave.

“Wait, what?!” The girl said, surprised that not only had their uninterested flatmate met the lead singer but that he was the man from before as she grabbed MC’s shoulder preventing her from leaving. Before she could ask further questions she was cut off due to Sebastian’s announcement.

“Wow what a very good looking crowd we have here tonight… dare I say the best looking we’ve seen” he said while continuing to stare in her direction and she made a genuine snarl at the man who only seemed egged on by her reluctance. In the time it had occurred Imelda must’ve informed their other roommates he was the one who entertained MC earlier.

“MC…” Poppy said, tapping her shoulder and getting her attention before she fully left to go stand outside.

“What is it Sweets?” She asked, her mood officially and completely ruined.

Curse the stupid undercroft.

“You should stay, show him you can have a good time even with what happened -“ Natty tried to reason.

MC did realize she had promised them she would stay the whole time.

“I promised you guys I’d stay the whole time” she said, chugging the rest of her drink as they started the opening notes of a song and her friends gave her a comforting group hug. “You’re allowed to enjoy it you know” she said with a smile and they turned back, joyfully enjoying the first few songs.

When he finally started singing she grew increasingly more frustrated.

Of course the very attractive, very funny, and cheater of a guy she ran into had to be in the band. Even more annoyingly, he was incredibly talented.

She tried her best to tune them out, focusing on her friends and their silly dances and every now and again leaning over to press a kiss to one of their cheeks or twirl them under her arm. She was here for them. Not for some idiot in a band.

“Before we start the next song I want to dedicate this last minute addition to our setlist to the very beautiful girl at the bar earlier who borrowed my lighter, and just letting you know, it’s offer still stands” Sebastian said as he stepped on the board on the floor that changed the sound of his guitar slightly before starting the first few notes.

Her heart absolutely sunk when she realized not only had he dedicated a song to her, but she knew this song.

It was her favorite.

She fully anticipated he was gearing up to butcher her favorite song, effectively ruining it for eternity but when he started singing she could’ve died on the spot.

“I feel the salty waves come in…” he sang as Imelda turned to her with her mouth hanging open.

“He just dedicated that to you?! But that’s your- wait what did he offer earlier?” Imelda asked as the other two leaned in and she looked up at him over their heads.

“That if I wanted to fuck, I should smile when I have his lighter back” she said through gritted teeth and they all melted, having seemingly forgot he flirted when he had a girlfriend, or at the very least a very comfortable groupie he knew by name.

The band expertly continued to perform her favorite song and as Sebastian sang her favorite lines, he leaned over the stage directly over her with a grin almost antagonizing her with the line

“Can we fast forward to go down on me” he said and at the end of the line and the kick off of the chorus he winked at her, tossing a pick before grabbing a new one and continuing.

“MC!” Her friends shouted and Sebastian watched with a smile as her friends fawned over her. He could still see her angered expression but in her eyes showed something counter to her body language. She seemed impressed. He could work with impressed.

He continued to perform his heart out, knowing he wanted to end the set with a song for the girl as she continued to stare from the front.

She felt very frustrated that as the song went on, she seemingly forgot what had happened. A small part of her screamed to just accept the attention and then go home and put it to rest but she felt guilty soaking up the flirtations of a man who had a girlfriend - who was likely backstage no less.

Sebastian saw the war in her eyes every time he looked back and as he got to the bridge he crossed back until he was in front of her, kneeling with his guitar until he was more level with the girl and her friends.

Her eyes widened as he did so, and he moved in as close as possible with the guitar in his lap, making sure that he could stare directly into her eyes before he leaned forward, the rest of his bandmates continuing music despite the absence of lyrics being sung a part she new would’ve been the bridge. Instead she realized he was beckoning her closer, and her friends pushed her forward until he met her in the middle.

When she did so he used his other hand to cover the mic hooked to the side of his face and leaned into her face saying “sorry my sister interrupted us earlier, hope this makes up for that” he said before kissing her cheek as she could hear her friends losing their minds screaming and slapping at her back.

Her face burned with all the attention so much that she almost missed him pressing something into her hand before he stood and started to sing the bridge to her and her alone…

Stop there, and let me correct it

He sang and she realized he was trying to use the song to convey that he felt sorry for running off…

I wanna live a life from a new perspective

He also explained that everything had been a misunderstanding with his sister, not girlfriend…

You come along because I love your face

And the way his eyes roamed made her feel as if the song was coming to life and she was the girl in the song…

As Sebastian continued he couldn’t help but smile down at her, seeing in her expression how she slowly pieced together both his intention as well as the mix up, and he almost stopped singing when he saw her opening the note he’d passed her.

“So catch me up on getting out of here” he sang the final line with a smile as he looked down and saw her finally reading the note.

He went to thank the crowd and start their final song as she finally got to reading the note. Pulling it closer to see in the dim lights she unwrapped the crudely written note on a bar napkin that said:

Beautiful rebel,

Thanks for the drinks and I’d love to buy the next round sometime. I’m also open to finally watching the silly space movies, and what better way to do so than with someone who loves them so much, if you’re down…

Sebastian Sallow

013194960558

PS keep the lighter since I know you’ve lost yours, however feel free to return it whenever you’d like, hopefully with a smile ;)

When she finished reading the note she realized he had wrapped the napkin around the lighter from earlier. Taking out her phone she added his number into her contacts before carefully folding it up and pocketing both the note and the lighter.

Opening a new message she typed a quick text before enjoying their last song for the night with her friends, happily nodding her head along with the song and blushing madly when he winked at her one last time before he exited the stage.

When Sebastian finally got his phone out of the dressing room he saw a new message from an unknown number and he couldn’t help but smile as he read the text.

UNKNOWN : That was quite clever Mr. Brown eyes with the Apollo tattoo, or should I say Sebatian… I will say the choice of god makes a tad bit more sense now that I remember Apollo and Artemis were twins… I’d love to show you the wonderful world of Star Wars sometime if you’re providing drinks; which leaves the important question: When are rockstars free? ~ your rebel in crime MC

He quickly flipped up his calendar, checking his schedule before replying.

Her phone buzzed as her friends walked home from the bar, still chattering about her luck with the lead of their newest favorite band. Opening the text she saw the message.

Sebastian: How about tomorrow at 4? My place?

She smirked reading the text and quickly shooting a reply and continuing her walk home feeling much lighter and now excited for the following day with her mystery rockstar.

Sounds perfect. I have a lighter to return :)

[itsss4t4n]

Who I write for /Rules

Masterlist

I'm new-ish to writing (i used to write fanfiction when i was like 13. i'm 18 now soo..) but I really wanna do it again.

So this is a list of characters/fandoms I write for as well as some rules for asks. Some things may be missing from this list so if you dont see something on this list, feel free to ask. :))

I will add a prompt list to this blog soon but again feel free to request other scenarious. Do add as much detail as you want to a request and please ALWAYS have at least some sort of prompt, as i'm really not good with coming up with storys on my own yet.

I WILL NOT DO SMUT SO DONT REQUEST IT! I might however do spicy stuff (Nothing more than making out tho).

My writing will be for all ages but please still be careful if the fic-warnings include sensitive topics and i might repost some 18+ things so be careful when navigating my blog.

Please be nice and have manners when requesting.

If you have any questions at all if i write for something, or if a topic you want me to write about is okay or not, please reach out through my asks or my inbox.

Also please include what gender/pronouns you want the reader to have (i write for all genders):)))

I write both romantic and platonic for all my characters. Although Teen!readers will always be platonic if the character is an adult.

I also write poly relationships. AUs are also totally on the table (big Fan of celebrity AUs).

Some things I will not write include: Pregnancy, toxic/yandere, student x teacher.

(Also english isnt my first language, and even know in my opinion i speak it really well, if they are any mistakes, thats why.)

Sally face

-Sal Fisher

-Travis Phelps (male or gn readers)

-Larry Johnson

-Ashley Campbell

Harry Potter

-Fred Weasley

-george Weasley

-lee jordan

-Charly weasley

-Bill weasley

-cedric diggory

-Fleur delacour

-olliver wood

-sirius black

-remus lupin

Marauders

-James potter

-sirius black

-remus lupin

-regulus black

-Evan rosier

-Barty crouch jr

-pandora lestrange

-lilly evans

-marlene mckinnon

Hogwarts Legacy

-Sebastian Sallow

-Ominus Gaunt

-Gareth Weasley

-Poppy Sweetings

-Imelda Reyes

Die drei fragezeichen / the three investigators

-Bob Andrews

-Peter Shaw

-Justus Jonas

-Skinny Norris

Twilight

-Jasper Hale

-Emmet Cullen

-carlisle cullen

-esme cullen

-rosalie hale

-alice cullen

-sam uley

-Paul lahote

-charlie swan

-Leah clearwater

pjo

-Percy jackson

-Anabeth chase

-luke castellan

-clarrisse larue

-selena beauregard

-charles beckendorf

-ethan nakamura

-nico di anglo (no romantic fem readers)

-rachel elizabeth dare

-will solace (no romantic fem reader)

-travis stoll

-connor stoll

-hazel levesque (no romantic)

-jason grace

-leo valdez

-piper mclean

Magnus chase

-Magnus chase

-samirah al abbas ( no romantic)

-alex fierro

-blitzen

-hearthstone

-malory keen

-tj (thomas jefferson jr)

Kane chronicles (havent read it in a while so might be ooc)

-Carter kane

-sadie kane

-anubis

-walt stone

Bridgerton

-Benedict

-Anthony

-Eloise

-Daphne

MCU (Avengers)

-bucky Barnes

-steve rogers

-tony stark

-sam wilson

-natasha romanoff

-yelena belova

-Peter Parker (tom holland and andrew garfield)

-MJ

-Wanda maximof

-Piedro maximof

-Clint barton

-scott lang

-stephen strange

-kate bishop

MCU ( Guardians of the galaxy)

-peter quill

-gamora

Moonknight

-steven grant

-mark spector

-layla el-faouly

Daredevil (Season 1)

-matt murdock

-Foggy nelson

-Karen page

-James wesley

X-men universe

-Deadpool

-Weasly

-francis

-Xavier

-negasonic

-mystic

-Angel

-kurt

Venom

-Eddie Brock

DC

-Harley Quinn

-Jason Todd

-Dick Grayson (any version, young justice, robin, nightwing,etc.)

-wally west

-Artemis

-roy harper (young justice)

Disney Descendants

-Mal

-Evie

-Carlos devil

-Jay

-Benjamin beast

-Chad charming

-Audrey rose

-jane

-lonnie

-Uma

-Harry hook

-Gil

Rise of red

-james hook

-hades

-bridget

-ella

-cloe

-red

-morgie

Kingsmen

-Eggsy

Tiny Pretty things (Netflix)

-Bette Whitlaw

-oren lennox

-shane madej (no romantic fem readers)

-June park

Jennifers Body

-Jennifer Check

-Colin gray

Ever after high

-all characters

Redacted Audios (no x reader, just ships)

-literally all characters

[cr0g-0]

Mentopolis enjoyers-

I intensely thought about it and like-listen I think a Mentopolis detriot become human au would be fucking killer-

Like-Fix trying to save Conrad because thats now his kid no matter what happens he is protecting Conrad from everything because who cares if hes human(hes very much not) he still has to protect him

Imelda and Anastasia at odds while trying to start a revolution for justice and android rights. They get input from freeze fight fawn and flight so they are trying so hard to not only pick the best method for revolution but also keep everyone from having an internal revolution

Hunch being way to excited to start investigating with Dan who is actually was an android deviant that escaped from a night club and is just shockingly alright at pretending hes a detective

(I think theyre so neat <3)

[dogbearinggifts]

Elegy Epilogue

A/N: This is the epilogue of an AU, based on an idea by @daughterofthemoon99 where Imelda, rather than Miguel, visits the Land of the Dead within her lifetime. Previous chapters can be found here: 

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four   Part Five   Part Six   Part Seven   Part Eight   Part Nine   Part Ten   Part Eleven   Part Twelve   Part Thirteen   Part Fourteen   Part Fifteen   Part Sixteen   Part Seventeen

The whole fic is also available on AO3.

Also, remember that fic I wrote referencing the phenomenon of people seeing their departed loved ones right before death? It’s not necessary to read it before reading this epilogue, but the basic principle—of loved ones crossing from the Land of the Dead, and appearing as they did in life—will be relevant. 

*********

1970

Imelda didn’t dare return to sleep.

Habit played a role, to be sure. For as long as she’d made shoes, she had risen before the sun. Shoes took time, and in those early days before she mastered the art of efficiency, she could only gain more time by sacrificing a few hours’ rest. Even after the zapatería gained the success it needed, she had continued to rise in darkness, to the point where Coco’s increasingly frequent admonitions that she sleep a little longer, that she rest, that she and the others could handle it all, would have been useless even if she were inclined to heed them.

She rubbed the back of her neck, wincing as it failed to ease the pain there. She’d eaten nothing, fearing more than water would further upset her stomach, and walking more than a few paces was more tiring than it should have been, but returning to bed meant returning to the dream.

It was a simple one, and nothing she hadn’t seen before. In it, she wandered long, empty halls past the Department of Family Reunions, past Entry Records and a hundred other doors bearing signs she hadn’t paused to read. No matter how many times she called Héctor’s name, no matter how loudly she called it, only echoes answered, and only waking ended the search.

Imelda fed leather through the sewing machine. Weariness forced her to go slower than usual; much as it irked her, she wouldn’t allow impatience to ruin a good piece of material. The police, the border agents—they had found Héctor before. They had found Abuelita. There had to be some sort of system in place connecting the recently departed with loved ones; otherwise, they had little right to call themselves the Department of Family Reunions.

He’d come home for every Día de Muertos since she’d found him, and he would return for this one as well. Whenever death claimed her, finding her husband would be simple enough—time-consuming, perhaps, but simple. She knew all this, knew it when she woke and when she closed her eyes at night, and yet when that dream came again, only immersion in work could drive it away.

She shut off the machine as the lightheadedness plaguing her became a wash of dizziness.

Coco would wake before long. She had always been an early riser, but she seemed to have set her alarm earlier as of late. Imelda often joked Coco did so simply to tell her to go back to bed and rest, but her daughter had never denied it.

If Coco told her to go back to bed, perhaps it wouldn’t be a waste of time to listen. Sleep wasn’t necessary. Imelda could read or listen to music or simply lie beneath her quilt with her thoughts. Once Coco was awake, once Imelda knew the workshop was off to a good start, she could go and lie down.

The dizziness didn’t pass completely, but it abated enough for her to focus on the task. She reached to turn the sewing machine on again and pain gripped her chest.

Coco.

She had to tell Coco. Or Julio. Or Rosita. Anyone.

Imelda stepped back from the workbench, falling to her knees the moment her support was gone. She tried to draw a breath, to shout for help, but managed only a small gasp as the pain drowned out speech.

Seconds before she fell, and moments before she plunged into blackness, she thought she saw a figure by the door.

******

She woke to callused fingers brushing her cheek.

For a moment, she couldn’t think who it might be or why they were awake at such an early hour, when she hadn’t made a sound. She could only keep her eyes closed as the touch soothed the lingering ache in her chest. Victoria, she thought at last. How she’d known to come to the workshop and why she was stroking her abuelita’s cheek rather than shaking her were questions Imelda couldn’t answer.

She opened her eyes, and Héctor smiled back.

He wasn’t the skeleton that curse had led her to. This Héctor could have stepped directly from a memory, with his crooked nose and his dark hair falling too close to his eyes and that mole she’d nearly forgotten beside a smile she remembered all too well.

An illusion.

Imelda closed her eyes again. She’d seen Héctor in death. This was a dream, a figment conjured by a mind desperate for comfort. She wanted to welcome the sight, but with her husband far beyond her reach, it was little more than a taunt.

“¿Estás bien, Imelda?” The fingers withdrew from her cheek; she heard the sound of Héctor’s palm slapping his forehead. “Ay, what kind of question is that? You just died—though I guess you might be better now? If it didn’t hurt too much?”

She opened her eyes. All of the familiar features she’d dusted off and restored as best she could were there, but they were sharper. Crisper. Seeing a vision from the past was one thing; feeling it brush your cheek was quite another.

Héctor looked for a moment as though he were about to say something else, to apologize maybe, but he glanced up, at the workshop and the idle sewing machine and the unfinished boot just beyond his vision. “Imelda,” he said a bit slowly, “if you were dying, why weren’t you in bed?”

Imelda smiled, and her smile became a laugh.

Before he could question her laughter or anything else, she sat up and threw her arms around him. The feel of him in her arms—she thought she’d forgotten, but it was as though she’d only embraced him yesterday.

“It is you.”

He laughed. “Of course it’s me. Who did you think I was?”

She didn’t want to explain any more than she wanted to let go. Héctor was there, the real Héctor, not an illusion and not a dream. She didn’t know why he’d appeared as he had in life and she didn’t want to ask. Not then. Not when he had come for her.

Her arms loosened around him just before he felt her tense and pulled back. The fever, the pain, Héctor in the workshop—in her joy over the latter, she’d failed to connect it to the former and now it was too late to explain it all to Coco or Julio or Elena—ay Dios, what if it was Elena or Victoria who found her first, grown though they were? But the more she considered it, the worse the prospect seemed for anyone, walking into the workshop and finding her dead on the floor with an unfinished boot on the workbench.

“Imelda.”

She didn’t know if it was Héctor’s voice or his hand on her cheek that commanded her attention, but she glanced at him and saw a gentle smile, eyes full of understanding and sorrow and joy all mingled into one.

“It’ll be okay.”

Imelda closed her eyes as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. It wouldn’t be okay, not immediately. Not for a while, perhaps a long while. There would be mourning, and disbelief, and long nights spent awake in the worst sort of wonder. Someone would have to finish that boot she’d left and all the other orders she’d taken upon herself to complete.

But time would soften their grief. It wouldn’t ever leave them, not entirely, but its sharp edges would be worn down until they could carry it without being continually pricked by thoughts of the past. And she wouldn’t be gone from them. She would come to visit and watch her family grow, see great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren and people who married in, accompanied by others she hadn’t seen in decades.  

She would see it all with Héctor at her side.

Imelda allowed herself a smile, just a small one. “I suppose I can’t finish that boot before we go?”

Héctor laughed and embraced her again, and her anxiety ebbed. He was with her, he’d come for her, and no matter how far he led her, she wouldn’t be alone. She watched him get to his feet and allowed him to help her stand. 

“The bridge shouldn’t be far,” Héctor said. “I think that’s where we need to go.”

It wasn’t a great distance, but it was far enough to hold his hand. Far enough to coax him into conversation. Thirty years of letters sent on a single holiday hadn’t been enough.

She didn’t realize she’d been staring until he smiled and brushed her cheek. “What are you thinking about, mi amor?”

In answer, she pulled him down and kissed him long and deep.

“Dios mio,” he breathed when it ended, lips curving into a smile.

She wanted to gaze at him forever, to simply watch him and store away as many details as she could. The sound of his voice, the way his hair fell, the softness in his eyes when he looked at her. The smile he now wore, different from the one he’d greeted her with. She had to remember these things, to hold them close and treasure them. 

He took her hand, and those thoughts quieted. 

She was leaving, not alone but with Héctor. Countless days and nights to see him, to hear him, to sit with him and talk over everything that had filled the time between them began now, with her hand in his. 

With one last smile, Imelda stepped with Héctor through the closed door and toward the rising sun.

[callonpeevesie]

Recs for Coco Fic Day

This is a super short list and I'm really sorry about that because there's so much great fanfiction in the fandom, but I didn't have time to remember and compile more. So here are just a few of my absolute favourite ones that I remembered off the top of my head, in no particular order.

Un Mundo Raro by @starberry-cupcake – an amazing post-movie fic on Héctor's reconciliation with Imelda and the rest of the family. The writing is beautiful, it's mature and deep and the characterization is absolutely on point. The complexities of the characters and relationships was wonderful to read. I seriously think about this all the time.

Neither Can You by @babycharmander – Ernesto's revenge on Héctor and the consequences, with perfect pacing, plot and character development. There's thrill and action but also so many feels, and Héctor and Imelda's reconciliation was wonderful.

Ernesto de la Cruz vs. The Court of Public Opinion by skater_of_the_surface – about how Miguel's claims that Ernesto was a fraud were actually investigated in the Land of the Living and how the living were convinced of the truth. The style is pretty unconventional, it's chaotic and hilarious but also answers all the questions and is thrilling too.

How a Husband Should Be by anonymous – ace!Héctor struggles with expectations and not knowing about asexuality because of his time, and Imelda is understanding. It was really validating and cathartic to read for me and it's a personal favourite.

Villain AU by @im-fairly-whitty and @slusheeduck – AU where Héctor is the villain. I linked the series instead of just the fic because the asks and other fics in the series are worth looking at, too. It's brilliant and really shook me how they believably established Héctor and Imelda as the villains while still keeping them in character. It was so thrilling I legit stayed up till 4am to finish it.

Elegy by @dogbearinggifts – AU where Imelda goes to the Land of the Dead instead of Miguel. Of course the concept is super intriguing and the author does it perfect justice. Imector reconciliations and them finding happiness are always lovely to read. It has just the right amounts of action and feels and the characterization is perfect.

Heaven and Earth by @pengychan – fic series set pre-movie exploring the relationship of Héctor, Ernesto and Imelda. I especially loved the characterization and backstories, and how they tie in with canon. I can't explain it but this has a Vibe that I loved.

Enrique's whole family has a MAJOR flaw by @greatmarta – super underrated fic that I really like. It goes into Luisa's feelings reaction to the music ban and Enrique's struggle telling her about it. Lovely insight on the perspective of Luisa as someone dating a Rivera, how the Riveras entirely avoid music in the first place and general Luisque cuteness.

This beautiful Julico fairytale AU by @heyheyitsjuju – sweet and wholesome and the fairytale works perfectly well. I love it simply because of the beautiful mental images and the softness that is Julico.

This fic by @im-fairly-whitty – what happened when Héctor met Imelda after she died. The writing is beautiful and angsty and so touching and the ending kills me ;-;

[mor-goo]

Coco Fic Day - Recommending My Work and Others’

“Like One of Her Crime Novels” - https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353140

Oh boy, here I go self-promoting.

I arrived at the Coco fandom fairly recently last year, long after the film came out. I was hooked, more with the world and the characters than the film itself. But I was somewhat disappointed to find a lack of fan-works surrounding (in my opinion) one of the least explored characters in the Rivera family, Victoria.

Naturally, the most logical conclusion was to write my own work, but the issue was what about.

Plenty of people had done stories about Héctor and the Riveras, be it pre-death, post-film or in AUs where he lives. And more power to them. Never have I read two that felt the same and they’re always a joy.

Some are completely different. Here’s a few works I adore in particular:

·        “Somos Familia” by whattimeisitintokyo: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180298 - an AU where Héctor lives. Also, there’s an elephant alebrije. What else do you want?

·        “Reanimated (No Zombies!) return AU” by emletish: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16864066 - one I definitely didn’t expect to make me laugh as hard as it did.

·        “Crisis in the Rivera Family” by GreatMarta: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15960923 - a fic that focuses on the adults in the living family, a type I rarely see. I think this may have been discontinued, but what chapters there are really explore the dynamic of Luisa living in a family that dislikes music.

·        “Flores” by GaylartMess: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342207 - focuses on Oscar, Felipe, and their respective OC relationships. I think this also may have been discontinued, but goddamn does it make me live in the hope of seeing more.

·        “Doll’s Tears” by sweetiepie08: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15595830 - a bit of supernatural haunting for Ernesto post-murder

·        “Down to Dust” by PengyChan: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13333533 - Ernesto-centric fic post-movie, with plenty of twists. Definitely interesting, given the inclusion of the emotions and unresolved conflict between him and Héctor as well as everything else that’s going on at the same time

·        “Dealing with Shadows: Princess and the Frog x Coco” by im_fairly_witty:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053143 - title says it all. A crossover made in heaven

·        “El Camino a Casa” by Bookwormgal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670495 - a sadder read, giving the poisoning of Héctor a much more drawn-out arc. But Ernesto gets what coming to him and Imelda finds out he hasn’t abandoned the family, so that’s always a bittersweet upside

·        “Neither Can You” by BabyCharmander: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456638 - very intense. Plus we get a few chapters from Victoria’s perspective. Victoria’s perspective!

For my own writing, I wanted to focus on Victoria exclusively, with the other family members as side characters, even Héctor and Miguel. She always intrigued me as a character, as we never got much from the film other than the fact that she’s got a sharp tongue and doesn’t seem to suffer fools gladly. There were a whole host of ideas I had about her, which could be explored best as an AU or by changing the events of the film around a bit. Hell, why not do both?

And so, my story, Like One of her Crime Novels was born.

The plot begins with Victoria (in the Land of the Dead, before the events of the film) meeting my original character, Anton Doucet, at the shoe shop one seemingly normal afternoon. Without giving too much away, she soon joins him in his “investigation” – using the term loosely, as Anton is anything but a conventional detective – which ends up tying in with the events of the film by the end. There’s bantering, fighting, drama, crime, tension, breaking and entering, more bantering…

What do I call that? An AU? A simple manipulation of canon? Who knows.

Thus comes the nub of the matter: why should you bother reading it?

When I started writing, I wanted to portray Victoria as closed off and private in every sense of the word. She feels uncomfortable around new people and prefers familiarity, especially in her books. Her home life, her hobbies, her romantic tendencies – she never gives out this type of information to anyone unless they’ve gained a monumental amount of trust. After a certain revelation, however (not getting too specific, spoilers, etc.) she feels she cannot fully trust her family anymore and desperately needs someone else that’s just as calm, stoic, understanding and supportive.

Anton is none of these things.

Anton is scatter-brained, impulsive, rude, and seems to enjoy irritating people just for fun. And to top it all off, his semi-permanent smiling and lack of eyeballs (yes, you read that correctly) creeps everyone out. However, in many ways, this is just a mask, in the same way Victoria’s stoic coldness is too. He shows small acts of kindness throughout and in return, she cracks a smile once or twice at his remarks. She occasionally finds him genuinely amusing and slowly warms to his company. Over time, this develops into a full friendship, despite (again, spoilers) the growing stakes around them. The only question is why he hides himself behind a cheap grin and bright red suit.

This fic is a lot more action / adventure-focused than other works out there, I believe. The Mexican death gods are also thrown in at one point. Call it a fantasy addition, call it lazy writing, you’ll probably decide pretty quick when you see it. We haven’t actually reached the events of the film yet, but hopefully this post will motivate me to put another chapter out there.

If you do choose to read, please leave comments! Kudos are fantastic, but comments really make my day. Even if they’re not 100% positive and add constructive criticism, it still provides me with the knowledge that my work is being received and read.

Here’s a second link to it so you don’t have to scroll all the way back to the top:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353140 

Thanks for reading my longest Tumblr post yet and I hope to see you all on AO3!

[sweetiepie08]

Musician with Poison Tears (Epilogue)

Miguel Rivera’s been fascinated by the story of the legendary ghost, the Musician with Poison Tears, since he was a kid. He’s always wanted to know the full story behind the weeping specter that haunts the train station with its invisible guitar. Now 18, the travels to Mexico City to try to observe the ghost from afar and get some clues about its origin. Who knows? He might even get a song out of it.

This story is based on the art and ghost!au created by @melcecilia14​. Go check out her artwork here, here, here, and here. It’s really awesome.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Epilogue. 

Bonus.

Héctor dropped his skull on the desk. “How many more are there?” he grumbled into the freshly signed form. He never imagined death would involve so much bureaucracy.

“I’m sorry, senor,” said a woman who called herself a ‘recently deceased special cases manager’, “but hauntings require a lot of paperwork, especially after how long you lingered.” She gestured at the massive file with his name on it.

He lifted his head, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want to linger.”  

“No one does, but that doesn’t change a thing,” The case manager dismissed, laying another form down in front of Héctor. “This one is a poltergeist activity report. On this, check of any objects you interacted with along with the typical type of interaction. Examples include smashing vases, moving chairs across the floor… that sort of thing.”

“But I couldn’t even touch anything.”

“Oh, that makes things easier.” She drew a line down a row of boxes and had him sign again. “Now, this next one is about interactions with paranormal investigators.”

Héctor stopped listening and let his eyes slide to the door. HE wondered what would happen if he simply walked out. Could they stop him? Was there a punishment? An amused smile came to his lack-of-lips. What could they do? Kill me?

“Senor Rivera…” The case manager glared down at him like a schoolteacher scolding a naught student. “We have a lot to get through and it will all go faster if you pay attention.”

Héctor sighed. “When do I get to see my family?” It was the only thing he cared about since he arrived in the afterlife. Hell, it was the only thing he cared about for a century.

“Your family was called down to the department when you arrived. You can see them as soon as you finish your paperwork.”

“So, another century?” he said, eyeballing the pile of paperwork he still had to get through.

“I demand to speak to the person in charge!”

The shout came from outside the room. Héctor knew that voice. “Imelda?” He got up from his chair.

“Senor,” the manager called as he walked out of the room. “You haven’t finished yet. Senor?”

He followed the voice to the open area of the Department of Family Reunions. There he saw her. She was older than he remembered and, like everyone else, a skeleton, but there was no doubt about it. The warmth that filled his ribcage confirmed it was her.

She was surrounded by family members he didn’t recognize. He could only assume they came about after he died. But there was one among them, an old woman with braided pigtails, who looked familiar. His phantom heart dropped when he realized who it was.

“You called my family down here, saying we have a new arrival,” she yelled at the woman behind the desk. “I thought it was my granddaughter or my grandson-in-law. You’re telling me it’s my no-good husband?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s the name in our database,” the woman said, shrinking behind a strange white box.

“That’s impossible! Do you have any idea how old he’d be?!”

“It’s more complicated than that,” the woman explained. “You see, he was a ghost for some time. He arrived today but he died in…” she pushed some buttons on the strange box, “1921.”

Imelda’s jaw dropped. “1921?”

“Mamá, that’s the year he left for his tour,” Coco said.

Imelda shook the stunned look off of her face. “How did he die?”

The woman pushed some more buttons. “Let’s see, he listed his death as homicide via poison by… wait, that’s can’t be right…”

“What?”

“He listed his murderer as Ernesto de la Cruz, but he can’t mean the same…”

“I knew it!” Imelda slammed her hand down on the desk. “I always knew that man would only lead to trouble.”

“Mamá, when I was a girl, my friends would listen to Ernesto’s records,” Coco said, taking a step closer to her mother. “He’d sing Papá’s songs, but the record never had Papá’s name on it.”

“You’re saying he was killed over a few songs?” Imelda roared. Everyone with a right might cowered in fear. “When I get my hands on that spineless worm, he’ll regret every peso he made off of my husband.”

“I appreciate that you’d go to such lengths for me,” Héctor said, approaching the desk.

“You!” Imelda marched up to him and delivered a solid slap to his face. His skull spun all the way around. It was a strange new sensation to say the least. “Do you have any idea how long I waited for you to come home?!” she shouted.

“102 years?” he suggested. “That’s how long I’ve waited to see you.”

“Well, what kept you?” Imelda snapped. “You left so it was your job to come home.”

Héctor lowered his head. “You’re right. I wanted to. I was going to leave Ernesto on the tour and come home you and Coco. He toasted me on my way out, but he poisoned my drink. I died in the streets but my spirit made it to the train station. I was trapped there for a century before Miguel found me.”

“Miguel?”

“I met him.” Héctor could feel his won face light up. “I met Rosa and Abel. I met our granddaughter, Elena… If it weren’t for them, I’d still be trapped. They saved me. They set me free.”

Imelda’s face softened but she took a step back. She closed her eyes and he knew a battle raged in her head. It was a lot to take in, he knew. Accepting it would take time. Her eye snapped open, anger restored. “So what? You left me alone with a child to raise and-”

“Mamá,” Coco interjected, stepping up to them, “we should hear him out.”

Imelda’s mouth fell open. “Coco?”

“He’s been trying to come home all this time,” their daughter went on.

“And he’s only about a hundred years late,” Imelda snapped.

“I know you’re still angry, Mamá, but I’m not. Ever since I was a little girl, all I wanted was to see Papá again.” She took a few steps closer and smiled at him. To him, it was like seeing the sunshine for the first time. “Now he’s here.” She turned back to her mother. “He’s part of our family. I at least want to know what happened to him.”

Imelda’s eyes darted from Héctor, to Coco, to the rest of her family. They looked on expectantly, holding their breath for the answer. Finally, she sighed and said, “Fine, we’ll hear him out, but I make no promises about forgiveness.”

Coco smiled like she knew a secret. “It’s a start Mamá.”

She turned back to her father. Héctor wasn’t sure what to do first. His daughter was here, in front of him, for the first time in over a century. She held out her arms, letting him know it was okay. He dove in to hug her, holding her close. His heart hurt, it was so full of joy. His girl, his little girl, was here in his arms after all these years.

So much changed so quickly. Mere weeks ago, he was just another nameless specter. No family, no friends, no knowledge of the life he lived before. He thought he’d remain that way forever, doomed to that empty existence. Miguel changed all that; Miguel and the rest of his family.

Now he could hug his daughter again. He could feel his love for her and the love she had for him in return. He had a past, he had a future, and the present was beautiful.

As he held his Coco in his arms, the tears fell from his eyes once again.

[midnight-raven]

Coco: Papá Au - Héctor's Past

A small note for those interested in my Papá Au

In this Au, Héctor is still murdered by Ernesto for his songs. Except most of the stuff after that is different.

When he decided to leave, Héctor sent one last letter to Imelda saying that he was coming home. Promising that he was going to be home soon.

"I would move Heaven & Earth for you, mi amigo"

After killing Héctor, Ernesto dragged his body off into a nearby woods just beyond the town they were currently in. Unaware that someone had seen him. Not enough to identify Ernesto, just enough to see a man drag another man into the woods.

When Héctor didn't return or respond to any further letters, Imelda had his disappearance investigated.

At first, it seemed as though Héctor just caught a different train and left, until the eye witness admitted to seeing a man similar to Héctor be dragged into the woods.

Of course, Ernesto had skipped town when the investigation went down.

Héctor's body was never found, and he was declared officially dead. The investigation became a cold case.

There isn't a ban against music, it's just a more sensitive topic in the Rivera family. But if one wished too, they will be supportive.

Meanwhile, Héctor's spirit didn't move on to the next life because of the agony of never returning to his family. His troubled soul remained in the Living World, trying unsuccessfully to find his way home.

However, as the years go by, the more of his past that Héctor forgets. The only thing he remembers is the longing feeling of wanting to be with home with his family again.

After nearly 90-100 years of wandering through the woods, Héctor found a little boy lost in the center of the woods. Alone and afraid.

Héctor took in the boy, Miguel, as his own son, to soothe his tortured, and lonely soul.

[flamyangelwings]

Coco AU again

Universe where the color of the glowing markings tells people how you died.

Purple is old age, red is illness, that sort of thing.

Everyone knows Hector was murdered, nobody knows by who because he would never suspect Ernesto.

Imelda does though, and she investigates. It all is revealed.

Miguel still goes to the Land of the Dead, but he meets his family there who have lifted The Ban because they all know the truth.

It's almost a happy family. They are sad because Hector is going to be Forgotten soon.

But Miguel is told the whole truth, he hears the real songs, and he is sent home.

He still makes Coco remember too. It's just a happier AU, because Hector spent all the years with his wife.

[im-fairly-whitty]

I discovered your Coco!SU au yesterday and I loved it! Would you write or draw a little more about Elena and Victoria? I'm very curious!

Sure thing! Glad you’re enjoying it!

Elena and her younger sister Victoria had a very interesting childhood for a few different reasons.

To begin with, their mother Chocolate Diamond/Coco had lived on earth for hundreds of years before marrying Julio. (Shortly after Emerald/Pepita went mysteriously missing.) This meant that in the years that Elena was a little girl (before Victoria was born) she heard all kinds of wild stories about her mother’s travels around Earth, but also the very old memories Coco had of what had happened between Imelda and Hector.

By the time Elena was hearing these stories, Coco had sadly come to terms with the fact that the loving papa she remembered must really have somehow done the things she’d been told. After all, her mother wouldn’t have sent her away otherwise. In an effort to protect Elen, Coco taught her very strictly to always do her best to blend in, to keep her head down and live a perfectly human looking life.

When Victoria was born Coco ceased to exist. The family saw it coming since Coco’s diamond and diamond-related abilities vanished when Elena was born with the brown diamond on her chest, leading everyone to rightfully suspect that the second child would inherit her pearl gem. Victoria was thus raised without a mother, but did get all the stories her mother had ever told about whispers of a far-away family past, the warnings to be as normal as possible, and of course the terrible abuelito that had betrayed them all.

But where Elena was content to rear the family to be as “normal” as possible, Victoria has always had a strong skeptical streak. She loves her family too, but ever since she could understand the stories being told about “that man,” the man whose gem she had inherited, she found herself not quite believing the stories.

What motive would a man, who by all accounts was a loving and doting husband and father, have for betraying his wife? And what exactly does “betray” mean in this instance anyway? Why weren’t any details at all passed down in the family stories? Why hadn’t they reached out to Mama Imelda at all over the years? What had happened to the emerald “helper” that had escorted Mama who no one had ever met or heard anything else about?

So many questions and no answers to be had from either her papa or her hermana, meaning that Victoria grew up constantly on the hunt for clues about her mother’s past. When she was thirteen she discovered an old, obviously gem-related trunk out in the hills behind their house, and over the course of a week secretly lugged the impossibly heavy thing back to her house and up into the attic.

She managed to pry it open (a harder task for her than for Miguel since she has diamond genes but not a diamond gem) and inside she found a stash of her mother’s old records and files and Homeworld things. She began rifling through them excitedly, but the farther in she got, the more confused she became.

She found maps and journal entries, conflict summaries and videos of Homeworld. Over several years she was able to decipher the gem writings and piece together a passible understanding of gem culture, and the deeper she got the more suspicious she became of the cryptically vague old family story. Especially of the aquamarine gem that her grandfather had served under.

When she tried to tell Elena what she’d discovered (when she was in her twenties,) Elena was shocked that Victoria had 1) gone against their mother’s wishes to learn more about their history 2) been able to find so much 3) was actually proposing that they do something to investigate the man that had ruined their family centuries ago.

There was an argument of fire and ice tempers, one of the few real fights that the sisters had ever had. The next morning Victoria quietly packed up the most important parts of her research from the gem trunk, the archery set she’d taught herself to summon from her gem, a pack of supplies, and then set off on foot out of town.

She was never seen again. Mama Elena never found out exactly what a “warp pad” was, or why Victoria was so dead set on finding one on that glowing devil map of hers.

When Miguel finds the Homeworld trunk years and years later, still stashed in the attic, he has no idea that all the most important items and information were taken by Tia Victoria long ago, leaving him with a very incomplete picture when he tries to learn more about gems from what is left behind of her research.

________________

You can find the rest of the SU x Coco au here and here and here and here!

This is an AU fueled by you guys, so if you’ve got ideas or questions feel free to send me an ask. I’ve still got a couple in my inbox, it just takes a little bit for me to get to them since I’m using this au as an art practice excuse and so answers are more involved than usual.

[imaredshirt]

lazyprofessorpursesalad replied to your post “How about a super Hector Au?-Hector Rivera was one of the greatest...”

I have an idea, if Imelda has powers, years after hectors disappearance she hears a rumour (set by Ernesto) that someone is held hostage, she goes to investigate and finds a tortured hector alive, but in a coma, she brings hector home and when he wakes up, find he’s blind and mute so he’s unable to tell Imelda and coco who betrayed him, as his health improves,as well as his sight and voice, he’s able to tell them who betrayed him, little do they realise they’re walking into a trap

OOOH. That is definitely something Ernesto would orchestrate. He’d be able to get rid of an entire super powered family in his way. What he doesn’t take into account is that now that Imelda and Héctor are able to work together again (assuming Héctor recovers enough to fight, OR he fights while still injured and using the last of his energy cause he’s determined to help his wife) they’re gonna kick serious butt.

[mwolf0epsilon]

In the monster au, I can imagine in the early days when Héctor is getting used to the Rivera family, Imelda has to run a quick errand in town right as it's getting dark out and when she's returning home a creep starts to follow her home. I can see Héctor getting a whiff of the creep's scent near Imelda and going to investigate to make sure she's okay.

Buckle up, this is going to be a loooong one:

Imelda and the twins weren’t very welcoming of him at first, so Hector wasn’t too eager to help or go near them at the start.Adult humans were dangerous and unpredictable after all! He’d rather not risk getting killed if they suddenly lashed out for no reason.He much preferred Coco who was kinder and easier to understand.

As time went on, the twins became more openly curious of him and instead of watching Coco while Hector was around, they often found themselves watching him instead. This unnerved Hector at first until he realized they weren’t doing anything malicious.He allowed them to watch him if it meant they stayed still and away from him while he went about his day.It’s around this time that the twins pick up some books about birds and learn that crows can learn to mimic speech. They become invested in teaching Hector the human language and Hector welcomes the idea when they approach him. He’d like to thank the little human for her hospitality and care.Hector and the twins end up bonding over their mutual curiosity and need to learn new things.

Imelda takes much longer to warm up to Hector and the feeling is mutual. both of them just don’t know what to make of the other and neither is all too pleased when the other tries to impose some sort of control over the other.It was a common sight to see Hector fluff up his feathers in warning when ever Imelda glared for too long, or to see Imelda stand tall whenever she saw any of Hector’s behavior as unnecessarily destructive (He used to sharpen his claws on the furniture to keep them from dulling and she wouldn’t stand for it because some of it were family heirlooms, like her abuela’s china cabinet and her mother’s hand made quilts!).Most of the time the twins and Coco were scared they might actually lose their patience and attack one another because it was obvious they were both too stubborn to back down from a challenge.Then one day while the twins are away and Coco is out playing with Julio and Rosita, Imelda has difficulty reaching something on one of the higher cabinets and Hector stumbles upon this ridiculous sight of a fully grown woman jumping up and down furiously while on a stepladder.He’s flabbergasted because humans don’t have any wings so if she falls she’ll not be able to glide down safely. She could get hurt and if that happens the twins will have to do the chores and cook for Coco (He’s smelled and tasted their food before, he can’t allow that sort of punishment on his small human).He ends up grabbing whatever it is she wants for her and shakes his head in disapproval when he points at the stepladder.Imelda is not very happy with being scolded at first, but she’ll admit it was a stupid move and she thanks him for grabbing the object for her.

The twins and Coco come back home to Imelda cooking while Hector follows her around and hands her things.She’s talking animatedly while he crows once in a while in agreement. They are so surprised that they wonder if they came back to the right house at all because the two getting along was the last thing they expected.It goes like this for a while afterwards. Imelda will be doing her chores before leaving for the Rivera Shoeshop, she’ll come back and get started on lunch or dinner and Hector will help her as much as he can.They get used to each other’s company and even grow to enjoy their time alone.Then one night after closing the shop, Imelda takes longer to come home.Hector worries and sneaks out to investigate as he’d done beforehand whenever he felt Coco was taking just a bit too long to come home from classes or playing with her friends.He finds Imelda in a tight spot with some brute who’d followed her and he sees red.

I’ll give Imelda a LOT of credit on this one, she’d been trying to lose the guy for 20 minutes by walking around town up until he made it obvious he wouldn’t let up. She confronted him in an open street to give herself enough space to run if needed and she even got a good hit when he tried to grab her by the arm.Still the guy is twice her size and weight and she ends up pinned against a wall just before Hector arrives.The poor fucker barely had time to register the looming shadow before he was thrown across the street by a furious crow man.He never even saw Hector, when he got up both he and Imelda were gone.That night was the first time Hector and Imelda realized they might have a small crush for one another.

[galemalio]

Does anyone know the Coco AU fanfic of what if Hector went through the Final Death in front of the marigold bridges and the agents of the Departure Department were there to witness it?

Because if they have journalism in The Land of The Dead, a journalist would’ve heard about it and think it would make an interesting piece.

So he’d investigate who this Hector is and the commotion he had caused by “dying” in a public place and not quietly in the ShantyTown.

The Riveras, who doesn’t have much entertainment, are subscribers to the local newspaper. 

The others would get a mild, if not sympathetic, interest that someone who shares the same common surname spent his afterlife trying to reach his daughter in the other side till he succumbed to the Final Death.

Imelda and the twins? Who knows?

[doodleimprovement]

I'm curious about the Coco Werewolf AU(for obvious reasons XD), what can you tell us about that?

ooooookay so i have a lot of thoughts on this one already (in fact i’ll be making a post about it in the nest couple of days when i’ve drawn stuff and thought the plot through more thoroughly but heres a few key points under the readmore: TLDR: angsty werewolf stuff but with the plot of Coco kinda

time period: 1930s 

basic important points: 

- Miguel is Imelda and Hectors second child in this AU : Cocos little brother

- Hector “disappeared” just before Miguel was born and music was banned from the family as he was an infant

- Miguel would take the “long” way home to stop at a cafe to listen to music, and taught himself to play guitar purely by ear by listening at the cafe.

-  Imelda catches him and they fight.He runs away and while out of the towns limits he is attacked and bitten (NOT by Hector) - becoming a woof.

- the next morning when he changes back he does the whole “i’m a monster i can’t go home” and leaves Santa Cecila, making his way to Guadalajara. 

- Guadalajara is where he meets Hector, who takes a liking to him

- Miguel gets the idea to go to Mexico City, to seek the blessing of Padre De la Cruz- the most holy man in all of Mexico (who seems to have a strange connection to Hector oooo) . Surely he can heal them! 

- while they’re on their way to Mexico city, Imelda, Coco, and the rest of the Rivera Family Hire a private investigator (pepita) to help them find Miguel and bring him home

Thats all i have concretely so far. I’m still trying to work out the story points and such. hope this satiates! 

[dogbearinggifts]

Elegy, Part Seventeen

A/N: This is Part Seventeen, and the final chapter (excluding the epilogue) of an AU, based on an idea by @daughterofthemoon99, where Imelda, rather than Miguel, visits the Land of the Dead within her lifetime. Previous chapters can be found here: 

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four   Part Five   Part Six   Part Seven   Part Eight   Part Nine   Part Ten   Part Eleven   Part Twelve   Part Thirteen   Part Fourteen   Part Fifteen   Part Sixteen

The whole fic is also available on AO3.

********

1917

Héctor had promised to meet her there, and he had never broken a promise before. Yet as Imelda paced, she admitted that this might be the first time, but not the last, that he did.

It must have been her tone, the fear she’d let slip through. Or perhaps she’d sounded too angry when she said she wanted to meet—just enough to let him know this would not be like their usual meetings. He was hesitating, she thought; hesitating so long she would wait for hours, long past the time her parents would expect her home.

Or perhaps he already knew why she’d called him there.

Imelda let out a breath, her next step striking the earth with more force than necessary. He’d guessed. Whether it was her tone or the days she’d spent avoiding him, he’d guessed the reason, and the reason kept him away. Would keep him away. By the time her parents realized what she had, he would be long gone.

If they didn’t know already.

She had to find him. Had to return to town and seek him out, no matter how angry he might become or how many people might witness the confrontation. She’d find him, she’d tell him what he’d done, and tell him exactly what he needed to do to fix it. No would not be an option. Maybe would not be an option. The moment she hunted him down, she would—

Something crashed through the brush, and she jumped.

For a moment, she couldn’t comprehend what she saw. It was Héctor, of course, but he carried his guitar. She’d called him to a serious talk, a talk that might end whatever existed between them, and he’d brought an instrument?

“Lo siento,” he said, breathing faster than usual. “I know I’m late, I—you sounded upset, so I went for my guitar, but it was a little out of tune, so I had to tune it, but it was more out of tune than I thought, so I had to tune it more, and then I looked, and I was supposed to be here and I wasn’t, so…” He balanced his guitar in his hands, adjusting the strap over his shoulder. “I’m here now.”

Imelda understood everything he’d said, and yet at that moment she couldn’t quite comprehend it all. He wore that smile of his, the one that had drawn her in, that still drew her in. Here she was about to make it disappear, and he’d brought a guitar to cheer her.

She’d prepared a speech, a series of smaller points leading up to the revelation, but it had all slipped her mind. There was only the thing she’d called him there to say, stripped of anything that might soften it.

“Estoy embarazada.”

As predicted, his smile fell, plunging him into silence. Imelda drew a breath, recovering the points she’d drafted. This baby isn’t only mine; it’s yours, too. Our child will need a mother and a father, and—

Héctor set his guitar on the ground, coming forward to grip her shoulders. “I—Imelda, is it true?”

She nodded.

“You…you’re going to be a mamá? I’m going to be a papá?”

She blinked.

“You—we—we’re going to be a family?”

“I—sí, but—“

He drew one breath, then another, his hands loosening their grip. He backed a step or two, putting a hand to his forehead in disbelief. She’d expected this.

She hadn’t expected his smile.

“You—I—ah!” He sprang back and took her shoulders again, grin as wide as the sky. “Imelda, this is wonderful!”

Her mouth opened and closed, her voice refusing to articulate the words her mind had stopped producing.

“Is it a boy or a girl? No no no, it’s too early—it’ll be a surprise, a wonderful surprise—what about names? Do you like names? I mean, what names do you like? We need a name.”

“I—ah—“

“Maybe Socorro? Ay! Miguel is a good name! How about Miguel? Oh—ay Dios, what if he doesn’t like that name?”

Imelda wasn’t certain she’d caught up with him yet, but she managed to recover her voice. “Héctor, we—“

She didn’t think it possible for his grin to brighten any more, but he looked to her and that was what it did. “Ay! You probably know more names than I do, or maybe you like more of them—or maybe not, that’s fine, I’ll like whatever you—“

“Héctor!”

He halted mid-word, blinking in confusion. “What?”

“We’re not married.”

Scarcely a moment passed before he brightened again. “Well, we can change that!”

Now it was her turn to blink at him.

“I mean, if you want to.”

“Are…” Her voice seemed to have fled, and it took her a moment to find it. “Did…did you just….?”

His expectant smile lingered briefly, then vanished as he released her to grasp handfuls of his hair. “What—no! This isn’t—I had it planned, I wrote a song, I—argh!”

The toe of one boot scuffed the ground in a half-hearted kick, but Imelda’s mind was still racing, desperately trying to catch up to where he was.

He wanted to marry her.

He’d planned to ask. Planned it even before the news she’d shared, and that news had not ended that plan. He wanted to marry and settle down and be a family, and he wanted to do it with her.

“Sí.”

Héctor stopped. “What….what did you say?”

“I said yes, Héctor.” The word warmed her as she spoke it and she smiled. She couldn’t help it. “Sí. I want to marry—“

Before she could finish, he’d caught her up in his arms, holding her so tightly and with such enthusiasm he lifted her off the ground and spun her.

“Ay, te amo, Imelda, gracias, te amo.” She thought he’d continue along that vein, gushing one pronouncement after another, but he set her down and crushed her close again. “I’ll do it right this time. I promise—I’ll ask you the right way, and I’ll sing, and—“

She had heard enough. She stood on tiptoe, tugged him down and sealed his promise with a kiss.

********

1943

Imelda stood in the graveyard, her back firmly to Ernesto’s mausoleum. From the brief glance she’d given, he’d received fewer offerings this year, the marble walls lacking the many cempasúchil garlands that had festooned it the year prior. Satisfying though the sight was, she couldn’t bring herself to look. Not without the urge to tear it down with her bare hands seizing her again.

Héctor had not been buried with the rest of the family, not yet. A few inquiries and a good bit of paperwork filed in Mexico City had allowed her to identify the nameless man by the picture he’d carried in his pocket, both for her family and for a public waiting to learn just how deep their hero’s deception went. But while proving his death had been simple enough, bringing his body home for a proper burial was not. Seeking remains buried two decades prior in a pauper’s grave was no mean feat.

From the plot she’d chosen for him, she could see over the rest of the graves and toward the wide expanse that, one year before, had appeared to her as a chasm strung with bridges of glowing petals. She saw nothing now—would see nothing, even if she returned after sunset, after nightfall. Unless some belonging on a neighbor’s grave caught her eye, the bridges and those who crossed them would remain unseen.

Perhaps she’d see Almarza first; perhaps she’d catch Héctor on his way across. Perhaps his joy at seeing her again would drive the cause from his mind. Or perhaps he’d groan: “I married a graverobber.”

Imelda smiled. She could imagine him saying it, picture it in his voice, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to hear it from him as he stood beside her or before her, hand to his forehead. She wanted to tease him about his first offer of marriage, watch him shake his head at the memory. She’d accepted it then, and she’d done it before he’d mentioned the song he’d written, before he’d coaxed her out onto her balcony with its notes.

She’d have accepted if there was no song, if that simple smiled optimism was all he’d given her, and she wanted to tell him that.

She wrapped her arms around her middle as a breeze stirred cempasúchil at her feet. The dead would cross at sunset, and sunset was still hours off. If she stayed until then, or returned just after, she could take a look. Just a quick look, just long enough to be certain that the bridge was beyond her sight.

Twenty-two years had passed since Héctor walked out that door, out of town and out of her life. In that time she had built a family and a business, lost friends and gained respect. He wouldn’t return; each year had only sharpened her certainty of that fact. 

But then, there was a world of difference between wouldn’t and couldn’t. She’d known this too, but now that the former had been replaced with the latter, there were times she felt she had been tossed into a cenote and left to tread water.

Imelda watched the horizon, felt the breeze brush her skin and ruffle her skirts. The bridge did not appear.

It wouldn’t, she knew. Not yet, and not for her. The curse had been lifted, and barring an accident or some other untimely demise, she wouldn’t see the bridge for years.

With one last glance, Imelda turned and retraced her steps. Tonight, Héctor would come home, and she would welcome him.

********

The first stranger had appeared in the zapatería earlier that year, newspaper clipping in hand. Ernesto de la Cruz Not Author of Songs, the headline read; Imelda had seen it elsewhere.

“Is—is this where Héctor Rivera lived?”

“Sí.”

Imelda’s foot twitched against her ankle. Once her boot was off, she leaned down, slowly, to lift it and set it on a recessed shelf behind the counter, within easy reach. The man didn’t appear angry—but then, fury had been wholly absent from Ernesto’s expression for as long as he’d kept his hands around her throat.

He nodded at that, in the distracted way that said he’d sought confirmation. A quick glance at the article, and then he returned his attention to Imelda. “I heard the guitar was his. Your husband’s, I mean.”

She shot a look toward Julio, who was attending a customer. His quick glance confirmed: If things went sour, he’d be at her side in an instant. “I gave it to him as a wedding gift.”

“May…” He trailed off, drew a breath, and began again. “If you have a photo of it…?”

Another glance at Julio sent him toward the workshop, which brought Óscar and Felipe through the door. She relaxed. They might be needed in the workshop, but she’d rather have three at her defense if this interaction took a turn for the worse.

The only problem was that, from the expectant looks they wore, she now had to make a decision.

Imelda looked to the stranger again. Still no anger, still no smirk. Only curiosity. No—this wasn’t curiosity; it was too mournful for that. This man looked for all the world like he’d been called to identify his amigo’s body.

The twinge of sympathy came before she could quash it.

“Julio,” she said, and her son-in-law drew himself up as if snapping to attention. “Go fetch the family photo from inside.”

With a questioning glance toward the twins that didn’t slow his pace, Julio did as he was told. Imelda presented it to the stranger, holding it some centimeters away when visions of the frame smashed and the recently repaired photo torn to pieces entered her mind. He didn’t protest. He simply gazed at the photo, nodding in realization.

“That…that’s it. That’s the guitar.”

Imelda nodded. She’d turned her attention to the photo, but it didn’t rest on Coco. She’d sat quietly as it was taken, as patiently as a child of her age could have, but it was Héctor who had threatened the final product. Even for a serious family photo, he couldn’t keep a smile from his lips.

“He and el Señor de la Cruz. They knew each other?”

“They were amigos long before I met Héctor.” She knew she ought to meet the stranger’s gaze, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away from the image of her husband, from that calm smile he’d been unable or unwilling to hide. “They had all the stories and jokes you’d expect—sometimes, all they’d need to do was look at each other and they’d burst out laughing.”

“Ay Dios. De la Cruz, after your husband died—he never told you?”

“No.”

“Ay Dios,” the stranger breathed again. Imelda managed to meet his gaze a moment before he cast it to the floor, head in one hand, and the twinge of sympathy stabbed her again. The evidence found suggested Héctor’s death had come about by accident, though details had been withheld from the press. According to the prevailing theory, Ernesto had simply absconded with songbook and guitar without pausing to inform the man’s widow of his death, leaving his friend’s body for strangers to find. Imelda had always found the notion too gentle, extending too much doubt toward the man who had taken Héctor’s life and possessions with little apparent remorse.

She’d known the full truth and seen the assumption through her own eyes, but in that moment, she saw it through the eyes of this stranger—and what she saw was monstrous.

He gazed at the floor for long moments; then, as if woken from a trance, shook his head slightly. “Perdóname,” he said. “And—gracias.”

Only after he left the shop did Imelda feel she ought to have said something.

*******

Coco was not within sight when she arrived home, and she wasn’t in the kitchen, either. One small, sad smile from Rosita, and Imelda knew where her daughter had gone.

She found her in the room she shared with Julio, kneeling on the floor with letters scattered beside. Imelda didn’t need to see the handwriting to know who had written them or why they had been brought out. She simply knelt beside her daughter.

“I put his songbook on the ofrenda,” Coco said, lowering the letter she’d been reading. “I know you said he might want to have it.”

Imelda closed her eyes. She could almost feel his hand over hers, hear the trepidation as he spoke. “You don’t have to keep it, Imelda.”

“The guitar is there too,” Coco went on. A small smile touched her lips. “Victoria wanted so badly to play it, but I think it’d be best if she learned first?”

Imelda nodded absently. Ernesto’s estate had handed over the guitar and songbook with surprisingly little resistance, though she suspected the move had been less an act of benevolence or contrition and more an attempt to quell rumors they’d had something to do with the narrow scar across her neck. If the words still hissed between townsfolk and strangers alike—“She found something they’d wanted to hide, and she nearly paid the price”—was any indication, their decision had yielded only partial success.

“¿Estás bien, Mamá?”

The question had come often within the past year. After the attack. After the investigation into the songbook returned news of Héctor’s death. After that first encounter with a disillusioned fan of Ernesto’s. Sometimes Coco had asked first; sometimes Imelda had, but each time it produced the same answer: a nod, a few words of comfort. They’d held each other, to be sure; they’d spoken of Héctor and what had happened and they’d shared tears. There were still things Coco kept to herself, Imelda knew, just as she had done.  

But those things Coco kept hidden—those were private matters. Hurt that did less damage when concealed than when brought into the open. Questions with expected answers. She had every right to bring those things to the surface, to shout and weep and accuse if it came to that, but she hadn’t, and Imelda wouldn’t cajole her into it.  

The things Imelda kept hidden, the story she had stashed away within her own mind, was different.

“I sing to you. You and Coco, every year.”

On the other side of the bridge, her Papá waited, and sang, and thought of her. His daughter had kept his letters hidden, saved the scrap of portrait that Imelda had never quite worked up the nerve to throw away. Coco had held fast to those few memories she’d formed, with nothing to sustain her but the belief she would see him again. 

Hearing the story wouldn’t be the same as seeing it with her own eyes. It wouldn’t be the same as seeing Héctor, as hearing that he’d intended to return in his own voice. It wouldn’t be certainty.

But it would be far more than she had. 

“Coco, I….” She sighed, her gaze dropping briefly to the letters—the songs he’d written for his daughter. “I never told you what happened last year, while I was gone all that time.”

“I thought you didn’t remember.”

“No, I remember.” Imelda returned Coco’s intense curiosity with a small, sad smile. “I remember everything.”

*******

Héctor felt exposed.

It wasn’t the extra border agents who seemed to have all found excuses to be near the desk when his turn came. Nor was it the police officers who had drifted over as much as their posts would allow. Neither occurrence was uncommon, in his experience; people found a way to be close when the time came to enact his latest bridge-crossing scheme.

But there was no scheme this time. No disguise, no ruse, no distraction thrown toward anyone who might keep him from the bridge. There was only him. 

The border agent handling photos on his side of the desk was a woman named Claudia. He’d seen her before, and she offered a smile. “Héctor Rivera. Let’s see what we have.”

She might not have learned his name over the past twenty years of failed crossings. It had dominated newspapers and conversations in the months following Imelda’s visit. He’d fielded questions, given answers, and, in the weeks and months preceding Ernesto’s arrest and Raúl Badilla’s capture, he had never been far from the watchful, protective gaze of one officer or another. His name had become as well known throughout the Land of the Dead as the man who had sent him there.

But without a photo, no amount of recognition would get him across the bridge.

He scarcely had time to panic over the what-ifs—what if the photo was destroyed after all, what if she couldn’t find it—before Claudia looked up with a smile.

“Here you are, Señor Rivera,” she said, turning it so he could see, “on your family’s ofrenda.”

And there he was, one hand on the guitar and the other on Imelda’s shoulder. On the agent’s desk. On his family’s ofrenda.

He tried to stammer something, some word that slipped his mind. Mamá Antonia took his arm a second before he remembered the word was gracias.

“Ven, Héctor,” she said. He hadn’t removed his gaze from the photo, but he heard the smile in her tone. “She’s waiting.”

********

Santa Cecilia had changed.

It was expected, after a twenty-two year absence. New buildings went up. Old ones were added to. Imelda’s family—his family—explained the changes as they passed, but he heard little of it through the single fact running through his head.

He was here. Back in Santa Cecilia, walking streets he hadn’t seen since the day he walked out the door. Despite beginning each crossing attempt with a reminder that yes, he would make it this time, he would get across that bridge and he would make it home, Héctor knew then that in the back of his mind, there had always been doubt.

If any of it remained by the time they reached his old home, it vanished when he stepped through the gates.

It was larger than he remembered; but then, the family had grown. The mischievous children he remembered were now Tío Óscar and Tío Felipe. Coco was a mother. There would be more space, more rooms in their home, than the simple house he’d left.

There was movement everywhere, family both living and dead streaming from one room to the other, laughing, talking. A short man with a mustache danced with a small girl to a song playing from a phonograph Héctor couldn’t see. Julio and Victoria—his granddaughter and son-in-law. So many people moved about, so much joy was palpable, that for a moment he couldn’t think what to do or where to go. He could only watch. 

Imelda stepped through a doorway. Before his mind consciously formed the thought, he followed after, stopping just inside.

Even without the family portrait to guide him, it would have been easy to see which offerings were his. He’d expected a letter or two, perhaps some chapulines, and chapulines were certainly present. They sat atop a new suit, folded neatly beside a pair of shoes. More food, more gifts were there as well, but his eye was drawn to the basket of letters all bearing his name and the sender—some from Imelda, some from Coco. His songbook and guitar proudly adorned the ofrenda of a family that had once banned music.

Imelda set the candle back on the ofrenda, paused as though she’d heard a noise, and turned.

She won’t see you. Héctor had known this even before his death. The dead could not be seen, they could not be heard, not by any still among the living. Speaking with Imelda, looking into her eyes and holding her in his arms—it all had been an exception, and a rare one at that. In the Land of the Living, he would be a presence, nothing more.

Yet for the briefest of moments, her eyes seemed to meet his, and he could have sworn she saw him standing in the doorway. Then her gaze drifted past him, through him, and all he could do was step forward as she turned back to the ofrenda, half-facing him as she watched his photo. 

“You promised you’d come home.”  

There was no trace of accusation in those words. No anger, no despair. Simply a statement of fact. Héctor did not answer it, and not only because she wouldn’t hear.

“I missed you, Héctor. I waited for you, I prayed for you, I…” She bowed her head in silence. A few tears slipped free.  

I’m here, Imelda. He wanted to say those words. Useless though they would be, he wanted to say them in the vain hope she would hear them, even as a whisper. More from instinct than anything, he laid a hand over hers.

She looked up. Not at the photo, not at the rest of the ofrenda, but at the place where he stood.

She couldn’t see him. He knew that. Her gaze was nothing more than a lucky guess, or an educated one. Yet even so, the smile she gave him set his chest fluttering and aching all at once. She closed her eyes, tears glistening on her cheeks, shining beside her smile.

He wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to hold her close and spin her around the room, not to the music or any semblance of rhythm but simply from sheer joy. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to do both at once, but he stayed where he was, hand over hers, giving her a smile she couldn’t see.

She knew he’d come home. 

And that was enough. 

********

A/N: Enjoying this fic? Read on to the epilogue.

[antares-8]

Tragic AU

Beneath the cut is a long outline for a depressing canon divergence AU. Get your tissues, amigos.

Right when he’s about to bless Miguel, Hector starts spasming. The petal falls from his hand. Imelda, distracted, gives Miguel her blessing... with the condition that he never play music again. It’s more force of habit than anything else, over 90 years of behavior coming to the forefront while she’s distracted by her... husband(?)’s pain.

Miguel finds himself in the cemetery. He leaves the white guitar--it would only slow him down--and runs as quickly as he can to Coco’s room, ignoring his family’s shouts. He tries so hard to remind her of her papa, even reciting the lyrics to “Remember Me” as rhythmically as he can, but it’s no use. No comprehension lights her eyes.

Maybe it’s Miguel’s imagination, but he thinks he can sense the exact moment she forgets Hector completely.

The boy collapses in huge, gasping, ugly sobs. His relatives have no idea what’s going on, but Luisa leads him to his bedroom, telling him to sleep, he’s had a long night, he’ll feel better after a few hours’ rest. She kisses him on the forehead and wishes him sweet dreams.

And Miguel freezes dead in his tracks, because he dreams of music every night.

The curse wouldn’t really claim him for dreaming, right? But he’d been sent back to the Land of the Dead just by touching Hector’s guitar, and he stayed there so long....

He doesn’t know, but he has a nasty feeling that it might.

So Miguel tells his family what happened him. He’d interrogated Hector on their way to the Sunrise Spectacular in the hopes of proving to the Land of the Living that Ernesto was a lying murderer: his location and date of death, a bit about his songwriting, etc. Miguel repeats these things to his family and makes them promise that they’ll investigate for him if he dies in his dreams.

They think he’s nuts, but they agree. 

Miguel tries to stave off sleep, he really does, and he tries to research lucid dreaming. It doesn’t work. He goes to bed alive.

He wakes up dead.

The first thing Miguel does is ask the nice government lady about whether Hector Rivera made it. He didn’t, but would you like me to find the rest of the Rivera family?

Miguel goes still again because suddenly he remembers his first time in the Department of Family Reunions, how Imelda held his very life for ransom and nobody else cared enough to speak up against her. He thinks of their deal to save Hector’s photo in return for him giving up music (a plan that Hector of all people had tried to talk down). Hector, he knew, was planning to give him an unconditional blessing, surrendering any chance of reconciliation, but Hector is gone. The others all attached conditions to their blessings--and he agreed to it, yes, hoping they’d change their minds. 

He agreed to it, but now he’s twelve years old and hurt and grieving and angry and dead. He’ll never grow to his full height, never get married, never even meet his unborn sibling. He agreed to it, but he shouldn’t have had to.

Miguel requests that the Rivera shoemakers not be informed of his demise. He goes to stay with his mother’s grandparents instead.

In the Land of the Living, Miguel’s family finds his body with a quiet smile on its face. Music always did make him happy.

There is no music at his funeral, but it feels wrong, somehow.

Elena and Franco repeal the ban the very next day.

None of them quite know what to think about Miguel predicting his death, about why he thought he might die that night. On one hand, his prediction came true. On the other, his tale was insane--and they didn’t want it to be true.

But then, after Coco dies, Elena finds Hector’s letters and photo in her dresser. The man looks just like Miguel described him, all nose and ears and cheekbones, and the letters are full of music Franco recognizes from his childhood. They go to the library and get the librarian’s help in finding a death certificate from Mexico City--and they find one for the right date, the right name, even the right cause of death (which they now know is a lie).

They keep investigating, aided by the other Riveras. The more they find, the more they realize....

Miguel was right about everything.

Across the marigold bridge, Julio brings his newly arrived wife to the family home. Coco is thrilled to see everybody, though sad to realize that her parents didn’t reconcile in death. She’s confused, at first, to not see Miguel there--but of course her little musician wouldn’t choose to dwell with the original author of the music ban. Maybe he’s with Papa! So she asks when they can go visit Miguel, secretly hoping to meet both (though of course she wanted to see him no matter who was taking care of him).

Cue record scratch. What do you mean Miguel is dead?

(Imelda has a sudden sinking feeling where her stomach used to be. When Coco says that he died in his sleep, she’s a little bit relieved. It wasn’t her condition that killed him.)

They find him in the street near Luisa’s grandparents’ house. He’s playing a guitar from Shantytown, an old straw hat on his head and a brilliantly colored xolo at his side.

Coco grabs him in a hug. He laughs and hugs her back. Then he sees the others, and his eyes turn to flint. Nobody else gets a hug.

His great-grandmother tries to introduce everyone, but Miguel tells her that they’ve met. He’s holding the old guitar like he expects them to tear it from his hands, and Dante is standing between him and the long-dead Riveras, ears flat against his head.

Coco, not being an idiot, demands to know what exactly happened. The story comes out, mostly from the adults, with Miguel glaring at them whenever they falter. (His markings look a lot like Hector’s, but he has Imelda’s glare.) They had no intention of hiding it from her, they just wanted her to adjust before telling her about her papa’s fate. When Coco hears about the blessing that finally sent Miguel home, she sucks in an unneeded breath. “But you died in your sleep,” she protests.

“I died in my dreams,” Miguel corrects her.

They leave pretty quickly after that. When they visit, everyone but Coco is treated with polite coolness. Maybe it’s wrong of Miguel, but he’s in a lot of pain. He tries, though, and he’s getting a little better, a little less bitter.

Most of Ernesto de la Cruz’s possessions are awarded to Coco, his murder victim’s daughter, and Miguel, the living boy he attempted to murder. (Rumor has it that the ‘attempt’ was successful, that this is why the kid is dead so young.) They give most of it to the people of Shantytown. Miguel especially is very involved with them. He’s trying to figure out how to organize a benefit concert. 

The Day of the Dead rolls around again. Hector’s face is back in the photo, though it doesn’t do him any good. Usually, that picture takes the place of honor on top of the ofrenda, but this year it’s been moved down a couple rows to make way for Coco and Miguel.

And there is an unusual offering lying there, waiting to be claimed. A white guitar, beautifully cared for, topped by a gold-toothed skull.

Miguel is enraptured by his baby sister, but he can’t help but glance at it every once in a while. The adults wander among their living relatives, listening to their quiet conversations. If Miguel had been right about Papa Hector, maybe he was right about the dead really being there. 

(Some of them glare at the photos when they think no one is watching.)

The living go to sleep. The dead gather up their offerings and prepare to depart. Miguel picks up most of the things in his pile--pan de muerte, magazine and newspaper articles about “The Ernesto Exposure,” his favorite foods--but doesn’t touch the white guitar.

Coco picks it up, holds it before him. “Papa would want you to have it,” she chokes.

Miguel hesitates, then puts down his other offerings. He takes the smiling guitar in his hands, cradles it close, and at long last allows himself to cry.