#hollow julieta ask

[gamerbearmira]

After seeing the latest mamabuela snippet, I decided this family needed some closure.

The family had gathered at the dining table, with Abuela placing the miracle candle in the center, behind a portrait of the two lost Madrigals. It was Mirabel's tenth birthday, the day had been spent celebrating, having a day off of their usual chores, but there was also a somberness in the air, something that came with every birthday. It was also the day Julieta and Agustin had passed on, leaving their three daughters in Abuela's care and two triplets without their third. The pain never truly left Abuela and her two remaining children, the hole in their hearts where Julieta had been could never be filled.

Mirabel was so much like her mother, even inheriting her gift, it was both a blessing and a curse. Pepa and Bruno would occasionally slip up, calling her Julieta or even hermana, only to have their worlds crash down all over again when they remembered it wasn't their sister, of course, she was Julieta's daughter, the miraculous survivor of the tragedy and the last remaining piece of both Julieta and Agustin that seemed to be a constant ray of sunshine and hope to the despairing family. In a bittersweet way, Julieta and Agustin both lived on in Mirabel, in the way she talked and acted, the way her glasses fit on her face, the way she sometimes acted clumsy, it was clear as day to anyone who knew Julieta and Agustin, and it both healed and broke their hearts.

The three of them tried to stay positive, to focus on Mirabel's birthday celebration, but by the end of the day, they were drained. They had pushed down their emotions all day for Mirabel's sake, poor Mirabel knew far too well the bittersweetness of her birthday, they needed her to know they didn't blame her and that she still deserved to celebrate, "you are your parents final gift to us" Abuela had said, "you deserve to be celebrated as the blessing you are." After a long day of partying in the village, Abuela had taken the opportunity to cook dinner, insisting Mirabel shouldn't have to cook on her birthday, but as she set the table, Mirabel took the opportunity to grab the portrait of her parents she kept in her room.

Now that picture was sitting in the center of the table, Abuela had asked why she brought it, "I wanna remember Mami and Papi" she replied, "and I want them to be here on my birthday". That one simple sentence had opened the floodgates, quite literally in Pepa's case, tears were shed amongst the entire family, none more so than Abuela, Bruno, and Pepa. Mirabel could tell the difficult time her family had throughout the day, so she decided she wanted to make the dinner a moment of memorial, where her family could release their emotions and grieve, the family had been hesitant, it was Mirabel's birthday after all, but Mirabel insisted that she'd rather have everyone be openly sad then pretending to be happy.

So here they were, eating at the table amidst tears and hollow laughter as they shared memories of Julieta and Agustin, Mirabel listening with bated breath. The centerpiece of the table setting was the small memorial shrine, hastily set up with the picture, flowers grown by Isabella, who said they were their favorite flowers, and the miracle candle.

"did Papi really get stung by bees?" Mirabel asked her older sister, "yes, he got stung all over and he was all red and puffy" Luisa replied, waving her hands around to emphasize her point, "Abuela said that's how they met and fell in love" Isabella said, "Papa would get hurt all the time and come to Mama's stall for healing food, tia says papa would sometimes hurt himself on purpose just so he could see mama, because he was too nervous to talk to her" Mirabel laughed at her sister's story, Pepa smiled through her tears as the rain poured around her, thankful to Felix for getting her an umbrella.

Bruno was twiddling with his thumbs as he listened to all the familiar stories, he was far too emotional to speak, but his eyes widened as he looked at the miracle candle, which was glowing brighter than usual, and seemed to be getting brighter by the second, "uh, Mami?" Bruno said, Abuela looked towards her son and followed his line of sight to the candle, which was now glowing bright enough to catch the attention of the rest of the family, "what's happening?" Mirabel asked, Abuela stood from her chair and reached towards the candle, the light became even brighter that the family had to cover their eyes. When the light died down, the family opened their eyes, and were met with a miracle.

Standing next to the memorial and the candle were three figures, two men and a woman, emitting the same glow as the candle. The woman had long and dark curly hair tied up in a bun, brown skin around the same shade as Mirabel's, and round chocolate brown eyes, she wore a light blue blouse and teal skirt with leaves embroidered on the hem and neckline and beige flats. The tall, lanky man had his arm over the woman's shoulders, he had short brown hair that was neatly combed and a thin moustache, lighter skin close to the shade of Luisa's, and narrower brown eyes behind round glasses, he wore a three piece suit, consisting of a white collared suit and navy blue vest with matching pants, his lapel held a blooming pink flower and from his brown shoes you could see mismatched socks, one covered in dumbbells and the other covered in colorful embroidery patterns. The second man stood behind the first two, he was roughly the same height as the first man, but not as lanky, he had slightly longer brown hair, tanned skin, a small beard and moustache, and bright brown eyes, he wore a white shirt with beige pants and brown shoes.

The three figures gave loving expressions to the family before them as Abuela stepped forward, trembling like a leaf, "Julieta? Agustin? Pedro?" Abuela asked, her voice cracking as Mirabel stepped forward to stand beside her, staring with tears in her eyes at the three people she had never met before, but recognized from portraits, "Mami? Papi? Abuelo?" Julieta's smile widened as she bent down to her height, tears pricking her own eyes, "we wouldn't miss your birthday Mija" she replied, "never have, never will." Rain poured down from the dark cloud that had engulfed the ceiling as Pepa and Bruno rushed to hug their missing sibling, "Julieta!" The two cried, burying their faces in her shoulders, Mirabel stood in shock as tears streamed down her face, her own sisters standing next to her, also in tears "Papi!" Luisa cried, giving a loud wail as she ran into her father's arms, her sisters soon joining her.

Abuela stood as still as a statue as she stared into the eyes of her late husband, who gave a loving smile in return, "Pedro... But... How?" She asked, Pedro chuckled, "we never left" he explained, "our spirits live on in the magic of the miracle, the magic grows stronger through the love of our family, the love that Mirabel has for you all, and the love you all have given her, has given the magic enough strength to give our spirits form, at least for a little while." Abuela chuckled in disbelief, but smiled, "the miracle truly works in mysterious ways" she sighed, holding Pedro tightly as he kissed her forehead. Julieta guided her siblings to join her husband and daughters, kneeling down to embrace Mirabel, "oh Mija, you've grown up so fast" she said, wiping tears from her eyes, Agustin nodded, "you look so much like your mother" he sighed, Julieta chuckled, "but you have your father's eyesight" she tapped Mirabel's glasses playfully, Mirabel smiled and nodded through her own tears, "yeah, Tia and Tio said so too, I even have Mami's gift" Julieta beamed with pride, "yes you do, I'm so proud of you Mija."

What was expected to be a somber night turned into a night of joy, the three spirits sat at the table with their family, Julieta sat between Pepa and Bruno, Agustin sat with his children, and Casita had pulled up a chair for Pedro at the head of the table right next to Abuela, Julieta had asked about the man she had been on her way to heal when she died, and Pepa thundered with rage as she explained to her sister that his 'emergency' had been a simple cut, Abuelo was in such shock that he stood from his chair, "I am going to haunt that man" he declared, Abuela laughed, though no one objected the idea. As the night went on, Casita clattered it's tiles with joy and the candle burned brighter, not blindingly bright, but brighter then it had been before, the family was reunited.

CLOSUREEEEEE RAHHHHH‼️‼️‼️‼️

This is so cool tho, like frfr. I’m so glad they finally got to see them again after 10 years <\\333 this is so sad but always really cute <333 gotta hand to them, they did show up unexpectedly. And then Mirabel setting up the portrait to begin with???? That. I love that. Foreshadowing, so cool 🥸🥸

MIRABEL HAD THE MOST RADICAL BIRTHDAY MYANNNNNN 🦅🦅

Also Pepa has everything to be mad. And every give a round of applause to Pedro for going to haunt him. That man literally had a paper cut, and then had the audacity to argue for causing the incident. LIKE DAWG. YOU CAUSED IT STOP TRYING TO PUSH ONTO OTHERS (coughcoughBrunocoughcough) TAKE THAT L

and you my friend, take the W, cause this is rad 🫡

[roxyfoxgamer150]

I ate an expired cake. It was good tho, also koko is making me spit it out like a cat who ate something bad. I mean, she's not wrong :>

(What expired thing will I eat next, find out soon)

"MOTHER FUC— WHY WOULD YOU EAT EXPIRED CAKE IN THE FIRST PLACE???" Observer Mirabel stated, pulling her hair in frustration and gesturing her hands all over the place.

"I KNOW some of us eat expired food in accident, but a CAKE???" "Akuma ate expired bread." "W-Why are you bringing me into this–" Akuma stated, flabergastered at Scrappy Mirabel, while Observer accidentally hits Kromelia.

Everyone completely froze when Kromelia was hit.

"I am so sorry Krome I swear—"

Sudden curses could be heard and the speeding away of feet, while Hollow Julieta just stared at the ask.

"If the cake had mold, then why would you eat it."

[halfawitch-willow]

Proper Introductions ❁ Willarion

Flower comes back to a partially-ruined Garden Grove, and puts in motion something that probably should have happened months ago. It's time for Willow to meet the Fairy Queen. Takes place November 2nd (Nobody look at me, okay) Willow Shop of Horrors Finale and Thread List @goldenxqueenclarion tw: blood-mentions, injury-mentions, neck trauma, plant death, brief mention of suffocation? Nothing major, Willow's just Fucked Up

“You have to meet Queen Clarion.”

If they were anywhere but where they were, Willow might have pushed back at Flower’s insistence. She’d remind them that she wasn’t ready, that she didn’t want the Hollow to know about her and she didn’t want to know about the Hollow. It felt too weird, still.

But they were standing in the restricted greenhouse behind the Garden Grove, among the withered remains of the plants Willow had killed on Halloween. It was hard to even walk in the space, with the giant Wolfshowl corpses taking up most of the floor space. And that wasn’t even getting into what the back of the greenhouse looked like, with the giant, wilted hybrid. It was terrifying to look at, to be near, and Willow understood a little better why Head Witch Deamonne’s first question when he had shown up at the Lightfoot’s house had been to make sure no one was hurt.

It was a disaster. Willow did not want to be here anymore.

She nodded, silent, and Flower looked at her shrewdly. They sighed. “I know you don’t want to, but this could have ended a lot worse,” they said gently, reaching out to push some of Willow’s hair back from her eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay, and that you and your friends were able to handle it. You shouldn’t have had to.”

“I’m sorry,” Willow whispered, and was horrified to hear her voice come out wet with tears. The combination of healing potions, Head Witch Deamonne’s abomination healing, and Julieta’s food meant that most of Willow’s wounds were closed and starting to fade into faint scars, and her throat felt much better. Flower hummed softly, stroking her hair as Willow fought back tears. The last thing she had wanted to do was to disappoint Flower after everything they had done for her. How had she repaid that generosity? Oh yeah, by destroying half of their stock and an entire season of blooms to sell in the shop.

“Oh, rosebud, it’s not your fault,” they reassured gently. It was rare for them to be this serious. “You just were never taught.”

Willow nodded, sniffling. She focused on her boss so she didn’t have to look at the destruction she’d left in her wake. “So when do I have to meet her?” she asked. Flower’s soft expression changed to something a little more awkward, and Willow’s stomach dropped. “You didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Flower-”

“I didn’t know if you were going to say yes! You really like to avoid your problems, do you know that?”

“Yes I know that! They’re my problems!”

“That’s a terrible coping mechanism-”

“Flower! When is she going to be here!?” Willow asked, her voice cracking in distress, and as if to answer, there was a knock on the door. Or, well, the piece of wood covering the opening that Edward and Hunter had jammed in place when they’d stopped by to retrieve Willow’s concealment stone before going to the Madrigal house.

Willow immediately went tense, drawing in on herself nervously as she looked at the door. Flower had told her all about the queen of their Hollow, but knowing what to expect didn’t make it less scary. “Coming!” Flower called out, giving Willow an apologetic smile and leaving her to stand alone in the disaster she’d made.

She fiddled with her concealment stone, debating if she should take it off or leave it on, but Flower got the make-shift door moved out of the way too quickly for her to decide before several fairies flew into the room to take up posts around the greenhouse. She’d seen fairies before around town and in the shop, obviously, but it was still a surprise to see them when they were small. Just glowing tiny figures about the length of her thumb. There was a whistle, and then Flower walked back in with a beautiful woman behind them, and Willow quietly gasped.

Queen Clarion was a little shorter than Willow, but she seemed to fill the entire room as soon as she walked in. She was heart-stoppingly stunning, with glowing dark skin and long dreads that were pulled back from her face. She had a golden tiara on the top of her head, made of long whorling shapes and colored glass shaped like maple leaves in all the shades of the changing seasons. Willow immediately felt comforted by her presence, under all the roiling anxiety, and Queen Clarion smiled at her sweetly.

“Willow,” she greeted, starting towards Willow. Only to stop when Willow immediately dropped into a low curtsy, just like she’d been taught to on the Boiling Isles. When she glanced back up, Queen Clarion and Flower both looked at Willow in shock.

She heard a tiny stilted laugh like bells, and wanted to dissolve into the ground.

Jolting back upright, Willow felt her ears and cheeks grow hot. She didn’t dare look up from her feet. “I-I’m sorry,” she muttered, clutching the hem of her hoodie to try and comfort herself. Her tail was wound tight around her ankles.

“No need to apologize,” Queen Clarion reassured, giving the scout fairy that had laughed a Look before refocusing on Willow. “It was a lovely gesture, though I promise there’s no need to be so formal.” She offered both of her hands, and after a moment of hesitation, Willow placed her own in them. She’d spent so much of her life staring at her hands, tracing the lines of her short fingers that couldn’t grasp onto the reagents she saw so clearly all around her and trying to see what was wrong.

Clarion rubbed a soft thumb across Willow’s knuckles with a hum, a pleased smile on her face. “Oh yes, these are a gardener’s hands for sure,” she said, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Flower told me you don’t know which of your birth parents were a fairy?”

Willow shook her head. “I was given up to an orphanage when I was only a few weeks old,” she said quietly. “The orphanage was told that both of my parents were sorcerers, and they had no reason not to believe them.”

Clarion nodded as she listened. “Yes, being human-passing must have helped conceal the truth for quite some time,” she said gently, and Willow blushed deeper. 

“Oh. Um. No, I- Uh. I wear a concealment stone,” she admitted. 

“Wait, really?” Flower blurted out. Clarion didn’t outwardly react.

“Would you feel more comfortable keeping it on?” she asked, and Willow fidgeted.

“It… uh. It might be easier to understand if I take it off,” Willow said, sighing. She took her hands back carefully, reaching up for the clasp of her stone. She stopped with her nail caught on the latch. “Though, um- I’m still healing from what happened so I don’t look… great.”

Flower looked apprehensive, but Clarion just nodded. “That’s perfectly fine.”

It was a little easier to take the stone off this time than it had been in the Madrigal home, and when she set it on the table she felt the illusion wash away. She uncoiled her tail from around her legs and let it rest behind her, and pushed her hair back behind her ears and shoulders. Flower gasped at the sight of the healing wounds on Willow’s neck, their hands coming up over their mouth. “Oh, Willow,” they whispered sadly, and Willow squirmed.

“I was born and raised on the Boiling Isles,” Willow explained to a stunned Clarion. “It’s a nation of mostly sorcerers and demons, built on the floating corpse of a demon. Growing up, we just thought the ears were another Titan’s Gift along with my tail. Both of my dads are sorcerers, and my other birth parent must have been as well because I can still see reagents, even if I can’t use them.” 

Clarion was silent for a few more moments and Willow fought the urge to squirm in place. She felt horribly exposed, especially when her tail started to twitch like it did when she was nervous. Part of her was anticipating the laughter, the jeering and abuse, and the contempt that seemed to be the natural response to her existence, even now after so long in Swynlake. After she’d been accepted so easily by her friends. 

The fairy queen instead pulled Willow into a tight hug, resting her chin on Willow’s shoulder. She went tense, feeling rather more like a frightened animal than either a sorcerer or fairy.

“You must have felt so lost and alone,” Clarion whispered, tears in her voice, and Willow felt her own throat go tight. She hesitantly wrapped her own arms around Clarion’s waist, and after a moment, she melted into her hug and let herself be comforted as she felt tears roll down her cheeks. Clarion hummed as she stroked Willow’s hair much like Flower had before, rocking her gently back and forth. The urge to just shatter into pieces and sob into Clarion’s soft sweater was almost impossible to resist.

After a few minutes, Willow pulled back to try and wipe the tears from her face, but Clarion didn’t let her get too far away. She cupped Willow’s cheeks in her soft hands, smiling warmly at her as her dark eyes sparkled. 

“I’m glad you found your way to us,” she whispered, and Willow hiccuped on a sob. The words struck her hard, but landed softly, cradling a part of her that had broken sometime during her childhood on the Boiling Isles. The Isles would always be a part of her, all the good and the bad, but maybe… maybe being a fairy could be part of her too. 

Willow had to pull away and gather herself before she embarrassed herself even further, and this time Clarion let her go. She looked at the wounds on Willow’s neck and frowned, before looking around the destroyed greenhouse. “This is very impressive, Willow,” she said, picking her way carefully across the floor to the remains of the hybrid. Willow stayed where she was, unwilling to get any closer, and Flower joined her. “Flower wasn’t able to give me many details. Could you tell me what happened?” 

Willow swallowed thickly. “Yes ma’am. I was watering the Whisperers one day and cut myself on the watering can. Some of my blood got on in the soil and on the flowers, and the next time I came in, some of the Vampire Roses and Whisperers had reproduced together and there was a hybrid taking over the bed. It was… smart. Much smarter than Whisperers usually are, and could talk and mimic voices that I knew. And it grew, really fast.”

Even now, Willow felt a wave of sadness attempt to drag her down at the thought of the early days when the hybrid had just started to grow. It really had been such a sweet plant, excited to grow and learn. It had adored Willow, even at the end, and part of her missed it.

“It took over the greenhouse pretty quickly. It could influence the emotions of the other flowers in the greenhouse and the shop, and... and mine.”

“How much time did you spend with the hybrid?”

Willow fidgeted. “I, uh. I was sleeping here a couple of nights a week.”

Clarion looked over, worried, as Flower rounded on Willow. “Woah, what? Why? Was something wrong with your roommate?” they asked, already fluffing up to defend their employee from an invisible foe. Willow quickly shook her head. 

“No! No, Kim is great. It’s me, I-” she inhaled shakily. “I have trouble sleeping with other people in the room. I… had a really bad experience in my childhood. I felt safer here.”

“Every time I learn something new about you,” Flower groused as they gathered Willow up against their side, despite being nearly a head shorter than her, “it makes me want to fly up to that dumb island and give them a piece of my mind!”

“Flower,” Clarion warned, and Flower made a dismissive sound of annoyance. Willow went tense, looking at Clarion and waiting for her reaction. Forget the Emperor, if anyone had made that kind of noise at one of her teachers they’d end up locked in the detention pit with no hope of escape. Willow had been nearly suffocated with abomination clay for less. Clarion just sighed, shaking her head almost fondly.

“We’ll see if there’s someone in town we can talk to about having a room for you if you need it,” Clarion said to Willow, who gave her a tense smile.

“I have a place, now,” Willow said, thinking of the couch at the Lightfoot’s house. Only a couple of days ago, Willow had woken up with her friends all crowded onto that couch with her, tangled together in a pile. It was the safest she had felt in a while.

Clarion smiled at her, and Willow blushed a little. Titan’s Lung, she was gorgeous. “That’s wonderful,” Clarion said. “And reassuring. Please, continue.”

Willow told Clarion and Flower about the hybrid’s growing possessiveness and overprotective tendencies, how Willow’s anxiety would ratchet up without the hybrid tempering her emotions. How she’d felt less and less present as the days passed until Halloween night.

“I… I don’t remember much of what happened between the hybrid getting hold of me and my friends arriving,” Willow admitted. “And parts of the fight are blurry. I just… I remember hurting so badly, and being so scared. The hybrid was right there in my head, and I had trouble separating it from my own thoughts. It wanted my friends gone, so did I. It wanted me to stay, I wanted to stay.”

Flower still had one arm around Willow’s shoulders, and was rubbing that hand up and down WIllow’s bicep. “That makes sense,” they mused. “If the hybrid’s personality and thoughts were based on your own, it would be hard to tell them apart.” Willow looked at them with wide eyes. 

“It was what!?”

Flower nodded. “It was your blood that made it, rosebud. Your magic.” Closer to the flower bed, Clarion knelt carefully lower so she could trace her fingers along the almost-black blood stains that splattered across the floor and the wood. In the light, it shimmered with bits of gold.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Clarion mused to herself. When she looked up and saw Willow’s scared expression, she held her hands out placatingly. “Which isn’t bad, it just means we’ll be figuring this out with you. All sorts of Magicks come through Swynlake, dearest, you wouldn’t be the only ‘first of your kind’. It doesn’t make you any less of a fairy, or a sorcerer.”

“I’m not a sorcerer, though,” Willow whispered. “I can’t do spells, I can’t brew potions. I physically can’t.” 

It had been so isolating, watching the world she was supposed to belong to pass her by in excruciating detail. To watch the reagents she would never touch mix together to form beautiful magic she’d never dream to make herself. 

Half-a-witch, half a person. 

Clarion’s smile was sad as she approached Willow, catching her hands once again in her own and bringing them close to her chest. “You are a fairy, Willow,” she said in a voice that was soft and firm all at once. “And you are a sorcerer. Both can be true. Just because you can’t do everything other fairies or sorcerers can do, doesn’t make you less than them. It just makes you different.”

Willow didn’t realize she was crying until Clarion reached out and stroked a tear away with her thumb. “And judging by what I see here, you’re going to be spectacular, Willow. In all that you are.”

WIllow's laugh was wet with tears, but her smile was genuine, and Clarion’s own smile grew. “And now you have your friends and your Hollow to help guide you,” she said. “This was far from a traditional Awakening, but certainly one to remember!”

“A what?”

“Awakening, it’s when a fairy confirms their Talent,” Clarion explained. “Usually it happens when a fairy is much younger, but I assume there were no Hollows where you grew up?” Willow shook her head. To the Boiling Isles, fairies were little better than pets. The thought made Willow’s stomach twist anxiously. “No Hollow means no pixie dust, so your Talent never officially awakened. You wouldn’t be able to use it to its full capacity, if at all. Were there any signs that you can think of?”

“I mean… plants on the Isles are much different than Mundus plants,” Willow said softly. “I’m not sure my Talent would work on them. I did okay in my earth magic classes, and I had my own garden in the backyard, but I wasn’t using magic.”

“Hey, I don’t always use magic when I’m gardening, either,” Flower said with a grin. “Gives me time to bond with the flowers properly. I bet your garden adored you.”

Willow had always felt the most at ease when she was in her garden, like nothing on the whole Isles could touch her. Even when Boscha had knocked over her fire bee beehive, the more mobile flowers and plants had protected Willow both from their stings and Boscha’s stupid flaming Grudgby balls.

“That… might explain a lot, actually,” Willow murmured, and Flower grinned. 

“That’s why I hired you, Willow. Even before I knew you were a Garden Talent, I knew you had a way with plants.”

She’d always kind of assumed she was a pity hire, so that piece of information made Willow smile bashfully.

“We’ll have a proper Awakening ceremony for you in the spring,” Clarion said, still holding Willow’s hands. “And for now, Flower will continue to be your mentor unofficially. We’ll make it official in the spring, but I think we can all agree that your magic is already too powerful to leave alone without guidance until then.”

So much was happening so quickly, and Willow could only nod and feel a little dizzy. Was this really what she wanted? Did she have a choice? She wished she was back on the Isles, protected by her garden. She wished she was back at the Lightfoot’s house, her head on Amity’s shoulder and Eilonwy sprawled over top of her like she was trying to protect Willow from her nightmares like a human shield. Her toes tucked under Hunter’s thigh to keep them warm, and her tail curled around Edward’s wrist, with Tony and Ian close by and Darius and Winston keeping watch.

Some of her overwhelmed anxiety must have shown on her face, because Clarion gave her hands a squeeze. “But that’s all things that can be discussed later. You’ve been through a lot, and you need to heal. If you need anything, Willow, anything at all, you have Flower get in contact with me for you or find me around town some days.” Willow nodded. “And I’ll come and check on you myself when I can.”

“Are you going to tell the Hollow about me?” Willow asked softly, nervously, and Clarion hummed.

“I’ll try to keep this all on the down-draft, but we’re a very small community. Rumors usually don’t take long to circulate, and some of the other Garden Talents have already been asking me to come speak to you.” 

“I didn’t say a word,” Flower quickly defended. “But… well, you were using your Talent more, and fairies can sense those sorts of things. You’re not particularly subtle, rosebud.”

Willow groaned, wishing a little that the ground would open up and swallow her whole, but Clarion only giggled.

“If anyone gets too pushy, let Flower or myself know and we’ll deal with it. For now,” Clarion looked to one of the smaller fairies hovering around the corners of the greenhouse. “Captain, please get some Garden Talent and Pixie Dust Talent fairies to come and assist Flower with the clean up here. I’ll speak with some of my contacts at the university to see if anything else needs to be done with the hybrid or the contaminated soil.”

“What should I do?” Willow asked, determined to help. But Clarion just turned a smile on Willow that made her feel like a witchlet again, small and safe.

“You, my darling,” Clarion said, bringing Willow’s hands up so she could press a soft kiss to her knuckles, “should rest.”

[bruno-madrigal-writings]

The Seer and the Baker Pt. 1

Summary: Bruno Madrigal, Seer of nothing but bad futures, pays the baker a visit. At least she's nice about it.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2  Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9  Pt. 10 Pt. 11 Pt. 12 Pt. 13 Pt. 14 Pt. 15 Pt. 16 Pt. 17 Epilogue

Read it on AO3!

Word Count: 1.6k

-

Encanto woke up with the sunrise, slowly becoming more active as the sunlight slipped into the little valley. It was time for people to start their days, to go about their work to keep the village running as it should.

Bruno hated this part of the day. 

He adjusted his hood, pulling it lower over his face. A few of the townspeople had requested his service today, to see into their futures, and he knew it was going to be rough. They were never happy with him afterwards. It didn’t even matter what the news was anymore, unless it was absolutely, completely positive all the way around, they would find something to be upset about. It was almost a self fulfilling prophecy at this point.

But today was going to be even worse. Before his requested visits, he had a rather dour errand to run. 

Even with the town only just starting to wake, there were enough people in the streets for him to hear their whispers as he passed, their tone always harsh or conspiratorial. He didn’t have to make out the words to know they were talking about him. Again. 

It was fine, though. He had gotten pretty good at ignoring them.

He stopped at the town bakery, the smell of fresh baked goods warm on the morning air. He took a deep breath, enjoying the peace it brought for a moment before he would surely ruin another innocent soul’s day. He sighed, but opened the door regardless of his misgivings. The smell was even stronger inside, lovely and warm. He wished he could enjoy it properly.

Luckily, there was only one other person in the shop, the woman working behind the counter. Laila, he believed. He had never really talked to her before. It wasn’t like the Madrigal’s had any reason to visit the bakery with Julieta’s cooking, especially him. He didn’t go into town anymore when he didn’t have to, and she had never asked him for a vision or anything of the sort. She had thick black hair tied back into a tight bun on her head and was wearing a simple dress and apron.

It took her a moment before she noticed his presence, busying herself by placing some pastries on display. She paused when she did notice him, recognition igniting in her eyes as they widened slightly in fear when he slid his hood off. That was to be expected, so he tried not to let it get under his skin.

“Bruno Madrigal.” She said as way of greeting. “... Do you have something to tell me?”

He nodded, debating with himself if he should stand closer to the counter or stay where he was. It hardly mattered as the woman put down her tray and walked out from behind the counter to stand in front of him. 

“Go on then.”

Right. He had to actually tell her, not just stand around like an idiot.

“I had a vision early this morning and you were in it. You were at your mother’s bedside and … “ He paused, debating how best to put this, but he didn’t have to. She seemed to know what he was going to say before he said it, like he was just confirming what she already knew.

“Do you know when?”

“Tonight.”

She nodded and he could see her deep brown eyes start to go glassy with unshed tears just before she rushed off, back to the counter, and started putting the pastries back on their tray.

“I’ll have to close up for the day, then.” She said, forcing a cheerful tone that landed hollow. She worked quick, having all the baked goods put away in only moments and the ovens shut off. She ushered him out the door, locking it behind her, and running off into the streets, vanishing from sight quickly.

There were already far more people out than there had been when he had first started his journey to the bakery, and all their eyes were on him. He winced, pulling his hood back up to cover his face. Even as he left to continue on with his visits, he felt the eyes on him and he knew what they were saying now without having to hear them. Poor Laila, she got a visit from that Bruno! Surely her poor ill Mamí won’t make the night now, and come the morning they will be proven right and it will be all bad luck, evil Bruno’s fault!

He forced himself to just get through the morning. He did his visits, met with the usual disappointment when his predictions weren’t good enough for them. Luckily, it wasn’t anything too bad and he could continue on his way from each visit without any further trouble. 

It was a relief when he finally got home. He could run off to his tower and forget about all of this until the next morning. 

-

It was just as Bruno said. That night, María Moreno passed away in her bed with her daughter by her side. The funeral was held a few days later, a properly somber affair. María had been rather popular in the small town, revered as the best baker they ever had, and all the town was in attendance. They all wished to properly say goodbye. 

All of the Madrigal’s attended, of course. It was practically their duty as carers for the town and its people. 

Even if some of them didn’t want to be anywhere near the ceremony.

Bruno could feel the crowd's eyes on him, their stares weighing down on his shoulders. He pulled his hood over his head, trying desperately to block out some of the gazes he saw at the corners of his eyes. He took a deep breath to calm himself, searching for something else to focus on. He ended up focusing on the only person there that wasn’t throwing him glances when they thought he wasn’t looking. 

Laila Moreno stood at the front of the line of well wishers, slowly making her way through them with quite a few nods and murmured thank you’s. She looked exhausted, eyes red from crying, but despite everything she had managed to keep herself together for the whole ceremony. He did not want to force her to see him, not after he had given her such terrible news. She probably blamed him, too. But there really was no avoiding it. When Alma stepped up to offer her own condolences, he stood by her side with his sisters, doing his best to avoid eye contact.

“Laila, I’m so sorry for your loss. Your mother will be missed by everyone.”

Another automatic nod and thank you. Julieta and Pepa took turns giving the other woman a hug and murmured words of comfort. 

“Bruno?” He jumped, blinking at Laila and meeting her eyes. She was smiling at him, small and sad but grateful, and the look in her eyes was warm. “Thank you for telling me. Otherwise I would have been at the shop when she passed. It means a lot that I could be there.”

He felt his face heat up, staring at her with wide eyes. 

No one had thanked him before, not in a long time. It has been even longer since anyone had meant it. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, settling on picking at the edge of his ruana. 

“Of course. That’s what I try to do.”

“And you don’t get enough credit for it.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes anymore, looking down at his hands as they picked, picked, picked.

“Gracias.” He mumbled. He cursed himself silently. He was a full grown man, well into his twenties, and here he was acting like some child faced with a compliment they didn’t know how to handle. 

Thankfully, he didn’t need to stick around. With a nod from Alma, the family left, returning to their own home. He could hear his sisters whispering and giggling on the walk back but he tried to ignore them. He was sure they were planning something or were going to tease him. Sure enough, once they were home they were on him.

“Well, what do you know? Our little brother has an admirer.” Pepa had said with a giggle, forcing herself at Bruno’s side. He frowned at her, about to retort, but then Julieta was on his other side with a warm smile.

“It has to be nice to be appreciated by someone. She was so nice!”

“Did you see his face? He got so red.”

“Said the woman who can’t even talk to Félix!” Bruno shot back playfully, managing to remove himself from between the women. Julieta giggled and Pepa looked offended.

“At least I can admit I like him!”

“Dios mío, I’ve only talked to her twice! And they weren’t exactly the best circumstances. What makes you think I like her?”

“People bond over tragedy all the time.” Pepa waved off.

“You just need to talk to her some more, about better things.”

“Maybe you could visit the bakery more.”

“Maybe you could leave me alone! No, but that would involve not butting your nose into your brother's business for once in your life.” Pepa swatted at Bruno’s shoulder.

“I’m your sister, it’s my job!” A thunder cloud was starting to form over her head, which was their signal to stop the teasing.

“That’s enough.” Their Mami said. “We need to prepare for dinner. Everyone to the kitchen.” She ushered them away and they dutifully obliged, each helping to make dinner even though it was mostly Julieta who did most of the cooking. 

Bruno frowned as he worked, mind running off to places it probably shouldn’t. His sister’s teasing had really gotten to him if he was actually thinking about Laila like that. He huffed at himself and pushed the thoughts away. It was all nonsense, they hardly knew each other and the likelihood of anything happening was so low. It was better to just forget about the whole thing.

Though, it had been nice, to feel appreciated by someone. He could cling to that, at least.

[acewithapaintbrush]

Prompt for you: Julieta shows love through her food.

I used this prompt to finally write a little something for the Pancita Bruno universe. It's a little bit rough, but I hope you'll like it

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxxxxX

Julieta knows how to say 'I love you'. How to move the lips and the tongue to form the words and push them out into the open for everyone to hear. 

She has said those words a lot in her 50 years of life. 

Six years old. Hugging her mother. "I love you, Mama!" 

Twelve years old. Apologizing to her sister after a stupid fight. "I love you, Pepa." 

Twenty-two years old. Looking into Agustin's eyes on a moonlit night, gathering all of her courage onto her tongue so she won't bail again. "I love you, mi Amor." 

At various ages, many times.

It is also the first thing she says to each of her daughters as she holds them in her arms after an exhausting but rewarding night. 

"I love you, Isabela Madrigal."

"I love you, Luisa Madrigal." 

"I love you, Mirabel Madrigal." 

So many declarations of love. Saying it feels like an old friend by now. Second nature. 

Julieta suspects that she hasn't told anyone 'I love you' quite as often as she'd told her little brother, though. 

If people knew, they'd probably call that weird, considering that she has a husband and three children. 

But what no one, maybe not even her own family could understand was that Bruno just needed to hear the words more often than others. He needed the reassurance because where else would he get that?  Shut away in his tower most of the time. Walking through the village with a bowed head and clenched fists. Like a ghost, walking amongst the living. 

So she told him as much as she could. 

So he wouldn't forget. 

Even after Mirabel's ceremony Julieta had searched for him as soon as her little girl had settled into bed. She had seen him come out of Mama's room. 

"Are you okay?" she had asked, noticing his vacant, red-rimmed eyes. 

"Yes." he had replied, not meeting her eyes and turning away. "Just a lot on my mind." 

"Ok. I love you." 

Bruno had paused. For a second she had hoped he would turn around, but then his shoulders had slumped and he'd continued walking. 

"Love you too." he'd mumbled just before   disappearing around a corner. 

That had been the last time for ten years Julieta had been able to say 'I love you' to her brother. 

Now that he is back she once again tries to tell him as often as possible. But suddenly the words feel hollow on their own. Not enough. 

Does he still remember how much she loves him? Are words and affirmations really enough to show him (to keep him from disappearing again)? 

Coming out of the walls, he looks sick. Pale and tired and worst of all, malnourished. 

Bruno had always been slim, but this is something else. This is skin stretching over too sharp cheekbones. This is fingers so thin that she's afraid he's going to break one off if he gestures too much. This is a stomach that looks healthy and full, while being anything but. This is a stomach bulging with water retention because of ascites and an enlarged liver. 

This is starving. 

And at least she knows just what to do about that! 

And while words don't feel like they are enough anymore, every time she accompanies them with a snack or a meal, the dark endless pit in her chest feels a little bit brighter. 

One day after his return. His favorite meal, for the first time after ten years. The recipe is still as fresh in her mind as if it was yesterday. "Here you go. I love you." 

One week after they start rebuilding Casita. Setting down a basket full of little cakes beneath the tree where her brother is taking a break. "Take it easy. I love you, Brunito." 

One month after Casita comes back. A hefty breakfast and a kiss on the head. "Good morning. I love you." 

One year after she finally gets him back. Sneaking up behind him to pinch his finally healthy little pancita and delighting in his outraged squawk and flailing arms. Shoving a bunuelo into his open mouth and watching him swallow it with a roll of his eyes. 

"Stop it, Juli! I'm still full from breakfast. I'm gonna explode one of these days." 

Julieta laughs. Before she can follow up with the usual "I love you" he turns around and hugs her. His face is buried in her neck and she can't help but put her arms around his waist, marveling at the little spare tire she can feel there. 

"I love you." he whispers. 

Julieta sighs happily. 

"I love you too." 

*****************

Take a drink every time you read 'I love you', I dare you.

@waitingonavision I hope this was a worthy addition

[casitafallz-a]

Pariah AU | Birthday grief

“Happy Birthday, hermana.” Pepa whispered as she and Bruno sat in his room, a photo of their eldest lost third between them. The aching loss never feeling more real than now in the privacy of his walls from the family. Not that the rain didn’t give her tells away at the moment she had disappeared off with her sibling and no doubt everyone else knew as well but the fact they were humoured was enough to keep the charade going; that this was now what they had to do.

Pepa didn’t care and Bruno was doing a good job at keeping the photo and candle dry with an umbrella settled above it.

Loss like this, the pain made the celebration of their day feel hollow. She had grown accustomed to absence, like Bruno has in the last decade but it had never been this ache. They had never had a birthday together since their 40th. When Bruno had come back, Pepa had felt relief that they’d once be a proper triplet birthday.

Then Julieta had vanished… and died.

The real realisation was swift to follow was now that they’d never have a triplet birthday again with one missing…or dead. The inability to bury her didn’t help with closure. Mama hadn’t come out of her room and Pepa didn’t even try because there was no denying the grief this day meant for their mother; a reminder of their Papa’s loss and the loss of her home but now.. now it was the loss of Julieta was now a part of her grief…

“Think she’d watching down at us?” Bruno asked quietly, thumbing over his rosary beads slowly.

“No.” Pepa answered, not looking up as she felt his look. “Why’d she come down to see us grieve when she’s with Papi celebrating what she never could with him up there?” At least with him, she didn’t have to think about them; what she had left behind.

Pepa hated that. Hated that Julieta had died and left them alone. Left them a duo. Left them in a horrifying way. Left her husband and her daughters… left their mother. She hated that she hated that. Julieta’s death hadn’t been purposeful… the desperation for water

Pepa felt Bruno prod at her before she waved the snow away.

“Why did she have to die on us?”

-

Pariah Julieta say quietly against the pillar to their private room, most people now had taken up bean bags and passed out like Stray or in Decay’s case, found a lover for the night in her drinking and disappeared off.

Distort had also passed out drunk, which was odd to see given he was still physically aged 15, even by now he was twenty-two. Much like Wanderer in appearance in comparison to her real age. She too had also disappeared off but Pariah didn’t let herself over think if she had disappeared off with a guy or just got bored.

It was an odd day but Pariah was…one of the few that kept track of her birthday in her native world. Sure, she already celebrated her own birthday here already but this day, it was also October 17th in her native world. Two years had passed and by all accounts, she was now physically 52 years old, even though she was about 65 years old.

She had wanted to celebrate it and Hallow had worked wonders for a last-minute party. Hallow herself had long since dropped birthdays for herself; she didn’t care for them as much anymore.

The high of the party had worn off and Pariah was tucked in between Dweller and Hallow with the familiar buzzing and dryness in her mouth. Dweller was quiet though, his fingers tracing the metallic shell of her prothetic with curiosity.

Hallow was… mellow. Which was off for an emotionless woman but Pariah didn’t ponder on that too much as they all sat quietly.

“You okay?��� Dweller asked after a moment. “You’ve gone all sad.”

Pariah offered him a soft look as he looked at her with those glowing eyes, a face so young but only a few years younger than herself.

“I keep thinking of my family…my Pepa and Bruno.” Pariah admitted, “their…second birthday without me.”

Dweller’s eyes turned down in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“After…my Bruno went into the walls… the birthdays after that, we still celebrated with the family. Me and Pepa would sneak to his door and leave a cake… or a little present.” Her lips curled sadly, “But…. We hoped he was alive. They were always gone by morning.”

Dweller sighed out softly. “You still kept him in your life…even if you didn’t know how close he always was.”

“This day… this will be the hardest for them. Not as bad as…last year but again…” She knew how hard it was but… they had probably long thought she was dead. At least with Bruno they had hope. Not her. No, she was literally dead to the family at this point and… that was a new pain.

A part of her longed for her native siblings.

Dweller’s hand moved from tracing to grasping her metal hand softly. “Their grief in your absence is just a sign that they still love you.”

Pariah closed her eyes as she rested her head onto his shoulder. “I know. I…I do miss them…but I don’t think I’ll ever find the strength to face them.” Not with what had happened to her. She…was too different now. Less…human. How could she look them in the eye and all they’d see of what she’d become. 

Agustín may not even want her; she could kill him with a touch…or worse accidently break him with her arm or leg. He was so delicate now; a loving, warm father that had done so much more in the last two years while she had become a soldier…a fighter and she was a hardened soul. She wasn’t what they needed anymore. She had ruined her family long before she had left, inflicted by her choices and they hated her for it.

[ratphecy-a]

@makcaw​ asked:

After going through Mel's things, the villagers find a thing wooden box and bring it to the Madrigal's home. Bruno's name carved into the lid of it. Carved rats scurry alone the sides. Inside is a green feather fitted with a quilltip. Bottles of dark green ink line the bottom of the box.

A note lays on top:

"Happy Birthday Bruno! Can't wait to see more of your stories!"

there was a knock on his door after what seemed to be a week. but honestly he couldn’t tell. it could’ve been longer. he had last count of days after a week. a hollow feeling in his life. his heart hurt every time he found a random feather. but it was the knock that caused him to stop looking into the future. he had gotten in the habit of doing it three times a day. hoping no one else was going to pass.

he was even on high alert for any moths in the house. he didn’t see it the day mel was announced pasted, but still. he knew he needed to keep an eye out. his knocking had gotten worst. him tossing salt after every vision. he was running himself into a hole. but that knock... it pulled him from thoughts. answering the door it was Julieta and Pepa. offering slight smiles. he just stared at them, seeing them holding a box with his name on it.

Bruno. he knew that hand writing. or carving. it just caused his heart to hurt worst as he took the box silently. his eyes staring at it before he looked up at them. saying nothing he closed the door. he didn’t know how to handle grief. but it seemed like he wasn’t handling it well. 

walking over to the bed he opened the box. staring at the contents. a slight smile on his lips, his brows furrowed.

mel. she knew him well. one of the few people who did. 

as his fingers hovered over the box. he sighed out. tears forming at the corners of his eyes as the lump in his throat. he was holding back crying as he picked the note up, sitting on the edge of the bed as he slumped over onto himself.

mel. 

tears patted the paper as he couldn’t hold it back any long. his body shaking. 

mel.

she knew he would write and use this. she knew he would come to her and laugh at the stupid jokes.

mel.

he shook harder.

mel.

he was biting into his lip as he cried. vision blurring as he could no longer read the message on the paper.

mel.

why didn’t he look into her future sooner? why didn’t he see it coming? out of everything he messed up. it was his fault she was dead cause he didn’t see it sooner. it was his fault he didn’t save her. he could still see her smiling back at him. saying good bye. saying she was fine.

mel.

his hands shook now. eyes burning as he felt sick to his stomach. WHY DIDN’T HE STOP IT! WHY!

before he knew it he was screaming a silent scream clenching the paper to his chest. only the sound of a strangled breath came from him.

[ken-katayanagi]

Encanto Gift Exchange

I was assigned @deadpancrowmomma with the prompt "Bruno with a platonic relationship"

@encantogiftexchange

    He wondered how his eyes always managed to hurt the worst after visions. 

Bruno sighed, a damp rag placed over his eyes. He’d managed to negate his headaches for the most part with his sister's cooking, but after a vision he might as well not have a face. He sank into his recliner, most of his furniture having been moved from his hole in the wall (literally) up to his newly renovated room. It made the process slightly easier, but his body still ached and cramped, his legs curling into his stomach. He shivered, sweat soaking his forehead. 

    “Cuanado?” Agustin slowly opened the door, Bruno flinching at the stream of candlelight. “Feeling better?”

    “No.” He snipped.

    “I…thought so.” He slipped in, making sure not to let the light fall on him further. “I’d offer you an arepa but I don’t think it would help.” Gently he switched out the towels and sat by, head resting on the arm of the chair. “Do you think some fresh air would help?”

    “Is it cold outside?”

    “Freezing.”

    “Let's go.”

    “I thought you stopped smoking.” Bruno said as he wrapped his towel around his shoulders, Agustin nibbling along the edge of his pipe. The dark of the night played around their shoes, a gentle shine of candlelight coming from the kitchen. They leaned against the wall, Casita bringing Bruno’s towels out for him. 

    “I did. It’s not stuffed, but it’s a nice feeling, chewing.”

    “You’re, uh, you’re not supposed to chew it.” He laughed, the sound hollow. 

    “And you’re not supposed to do visions alone.” Bruno frowned, rolling his eyes. 

    “And you’re not supposed to give cigars to the rats.” 

    “Now, now I stopped doing that!”

    “You thought it was hilarious.” 

    “Well, it’s not my fault I think it’s funny that they can’t fit the cigarette in their tiny little paws. And I took it if they tried to eat it!”

    “Agustin, I'm going to ask you straight up.” Agustin stiffened, unused to the tone. “Do you think rat cancer is humorous?” They giggled, then snickered, then fell out laughing, sliding down the wall as they howled into the night. Somewhere, thunder clapped, and the two shushed one another as a light flicked upstairs. They sat, frozen, and the light flicked off. 

    “Ay, the devil never sleeps.” Bruno quipped, Agustin snorting as he wheezed hard. He slammed the stone, desperately trying to catch his breath. Bruno had missed this. The long, cold nights of dry wit and smoking under a random tree so Julieta wouldn’t yell at them for ruining their lungs. (Not that her aperas hadn’t kept them in perfect health, but both men had found themselves weaned off the habit by her nagging.) Such nights hardly existed in the walls, and only if he pretended the rats could speak. A soft breeze caught his cheek as his eyes finally began to stop aching. The night was young and it’s coolness soothed him. 

    “Feeling better?”

    “A bit. My back doesn’t hurt-” Bruno stretched, his back tensing up. “-didn’t hurt.”

    “Hah! I don’t think that was your vision Brunito.” Agustin leaned in. “I think you’re just old.”

    “If I’m old, you’re ancient.” 

    “With my, oh, yes extra two months. Again, delight me in the ways of the young.” They snickered at that, the months of absence seeming to close like it was nothing. “If I can, though. What was in your vision?” He perked up. 

    “I, uh, just, things.”

    “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

    “It’s nothing bad!” 

    “Bruno.” He flinched, hardly recognizing the tone. 

    “I, I just mean that it wasn’t anything big. It was one of my montage visions ya’know? Lots of little stuff, wedding here, birth there.”

    “Oh?” Agustin said.

    “Not for a while Gus.”

    “Ay, I was never impatient till I met you.” Agustin groaned, but his face was almost gleeful. Bruno smiled. He was one of the few people who was often more excited to receive a vision than he was dreading a possibly bad one. Part of him knew this was why it was best he first saw his disastrous vision. His shoulders slumped, and the night wind pierced the comfy wool of his ruana. “It’s getting cold. We should head in, maybe Julieta saved you some dinner.”

    “Si.”

    “I was wondering when you’d come down. Eat.” Julieta pushed an arepa and a plate of stuffed shells towards her brother, Agustin sneaking the last of the strawberry oblas as she emptied her baskets. Tomorrow was her day off (Mirabel enforced them with a frightening iron embroidery needle) but Antinio’s animals would devour them if they weren’t cleaned properly. 

    “Ah, gracias. Sorry for missing dinner. I figured it would just be easier to get it over with…” Julieta just waved him off. 

    “As long as you eat.” She said, a faint hint of fear playing around her tone. But her grin returned, and she shook her brother’s shoulders. “If you get any thinner we could use you as paper!!” 

    “Wah! Gus!” Agustin laughed, whisking his wife away from her already frazzled sibling. He ate, watching them as they twirled around the room. 

    “Ah! Oh, oh my, hm…” She giggled, placing her baskets on their shelf and heading for the archway. “We’re going to head up. Do you need anything else?”

    “Oh, uh, no, I can get it.”

    “Alright. Goodnight!”

    “Goodnight!” Bruno bit into a shell, delicious pork coating his mouth. Silently, he wondered how he’d managed to have such a wonderful family. 

[miraclestitch-a]

@warraigoe​​ asked: ‘you know i love you,  right?’ / from julieta !

love is a spark, cast into water. / accepting.

🦋 – She looks over at her mother, smile so WARM and INVITING. She knows she means it. Her mother never said ‘ i love you ’ if she didn’t MEAN it. But Mirabel’s chest feels HOLLOW, empty, instead of the warmth she SHOULD be feeling. Mirabel just ... nods, then picks up the basket. “I ... gotta go hand out the stuff for the party.”

🦋 – And she walks off, not wanting to CONTINUE the conversation.

[boothecute]

Julieta Aurelio 

mask

There's this mask I wear The glue is so tight Hiding me, hiding all All you don't see, unless you get really near That I'm not alright My eyes are dark and deep enough for you to stand in My wrists are ******, so are my thighs My heart is shaky And I've got non stop anxiety But from far you see this mask You hear my loud laugh And see me hold my tummy in pain from giggling at my own joke You swear I have recovered When actually my late night tears help me keep the mask on I may not look injured Nor hollow Or in pain Just with this smile on my face Of this mask that I wear I hurt unheard and unseen, Impatient for good days. If my heart was transparent A lot wouldn't be the same Anyways, I'm already used to building these walls around my heart. It's protected, I guess. From the outside world yet within me the storm never calms. Tears wet these pillows All night through sometimes wishing that morning must never come Holding the grudge against myself While smiling to all standing right in front of me. Asking is this how life suppose to be. Limping with anger yet holding the last thought of laughter One **** of life we living. You see... This mask doesn't show things in 3D That's why I love rainy days Coz my tears are never recognized Sadness engulf my soul while hoping that one day I will be able to remove the glue on this mask I wear.

[roxyfoxgamer150]

"Y'know, I'm a really great wizard, all my spells are amazing!" An arrogant boy bragged to his friends, with the dimensional travelling squad with them.

The squad, which included Obervser, Scrap, Hollow, Solaris and more, all wore gas masks to avoid smelling the disgustingly horrendous scents coming out of everyone. (Literally, medieval times didn't bathe, right?)

"Okay, what spell did you create?" Scrappy Mirabel asked, genuinely curious.

The boy revealed his wand and a potion, "The spell is called Irkon Secro, and it deals massive damage to enemies with icicles! Throw this potion towards them while casting the spell, it'll do more damage, because it's gel mixed with a bit of the ends of needles!"

The whole group was silent except for hiw own group.

"Your staff is infected with mold." Observer Mirable stated with disgust.

"Why is your potion watery!? Why is it more water then the ingredients itself!?" Scrap yelled in horror.

Hollow Julieta pointed at his robe with a blank stare, "Your robe is not enchanted with protection spells little one. Well, I suppose that's normal because you're a first year.." she muttered the last part to herself.

Solaris just narrowed her eyes, "Your spells are weak. Besides, icicles, really? What about if it's summer huh? What if the speed of the ice melts it." She scoffs, "Even my kindergarteners are better than that, and I'm a fucking horse!"

Shadow Facade stared in surprise with Thunder Orb. They looked at each other, "Honestly we didn't expect the potion to look liek swamp water."

Kromelia, who was the newest member of the squad, and who was also semi-mute, simply shock her head and did a thumbs down, glaring.

The boy just ran to his parents.

[roxyfoxgamer150]

"Will you fight back?" Someone ordered, wearing a white masquerade hare mask, eyes covered with the black cloth behind the mask. A see-through blindfold maybe? Their hands hands were resting on the handle of a rapier sword that was stabbed through the ground, their head raised high.

"What?" Isabela muttered, still kneeling on the floor of her room after crying from being forced to be perfect.

"Will you fight back?" They asked, tilting their head, curious.

Isabela knew the figure was familiar, as she saw them when she was only five, eight, and eleven. They only appeared after two years, but it has been eleven after they showed up.

She sniffled, "Why did you only show up now? Why not the time I was forced to be perfect!? You didn't give me advice anymore!" She yelled, angry and upset.

The masked figure didn't answer the question, simply ignoring it.

"Will you fight back?" They asked, "A person would say no one is perfect, another would say that everyone is perfect the way they are." They stated.

"What are you to yourself, imperfect, or perfect? Answer for yourself, ignore what everyone calls you, imperfect or not." They stated.

She sat in silence for a moment, thinking. "I don't think I'm perfect Hollow—" oh that name feels wrong coming from an Isabela that's upset towards her and not Julieta "—but why are you telling me that you god damn estúpido?"

"Then tell your "abuela" you're not perfect." They stated in a deadpan tone and expression.

Both froze in silence, absolutely shocked at what the other said.

She snickered, she chuckled, laughed, and then full blown cackle.

"Why didn't I think of that in the first place!?" I do not know, it might be because you have been focused on becoming yourself again, you entirely forgot on making a plan to actually do that little one?

Isabela stopped laughing and looked at her, glaring. The masked figure put a hand over her mouth, sarcasm visibly in her tone of voice. "Oops, it appears that I have accidentally informed you of what you should have thought in the first place, my sincere apologies."

"I don't know whether to murder you with vines or fling you to the ceiling."

"Mmm yes, make crows kill me with vines." "DIOS MIERDA JUST BECAUSE YOU KNOW MURDER IS A GROUP OF CROWS DOESN'T MEAN IT'S ALWAYS THAT!! JUST HELP ME WITH FACING ABUELA NOW!" The figure pretended to laugh, dodging every vine, flower, and cacti on their path.

Meanwhile, Observer Mirabel's eye twitched.

"God damn it, she turned drama into comedy for a bit."

[roxyfoxgamer150]

The last time they felt fear was when they realized that certain poisons don't work on them. That was nine years ago.

Now they felt it again.

"What— what the fuck?" Observer Mirabel stated, horrified that she was inside a hydra. A false hydra. She was inside it oh gods—

"OBSERVER! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Scrappy Mirabel yelled out, slapping her face and startling Observer.

Hollow Julieta looked at the burning corpse of the scaled beast, eyes twitching. "Upgrades I guess.." she muttered under her breath, looking at the beat infront of her, she thought of one thing.

'What if I eat it?' She asked. Ever since she realized that she can absorb certain livinf things and its powers, she realized that if she ate the corpse, or even a piece of it, she'll be able to either erase memories, or regrow her head faster.

She looked back, "Mind if I eat a piece of the corpse as payback, little ones?" Seh asked.

"Yeah— yeah sure we're literally fucking traumatized because we found out that WE CAN'T BE ERASED—"

Hollow just bit a chunk of the reptile as she said that.

[You ate the False Hydra's flesh.]

[You gained two new abilities! <Memory Erasure> and <Blind Song>!]

Everyone was silent.

Solaris screeched, "HOLLOW FOR FUCKS SAKE OBSERVER WAS JUST BUCKING EATEN AND YOU USED YOUR MANHWA POWERS???"

Kromelia, a new addition to the team, only laughed and posed in a fetal position on the floor while laughing. "This! This is what I meant by coping! She's coping by eating the flesh of her enemiOH MY GOD GET THOSE TEETH AWAY FROM ME HOLLOW—" "IF I AM COPING THEN I WILL BITE YOUR ARM FOR THE HOLY SKILL YOU HAVE—"

[roxyfoxgamer150]

Is it a pinterest picture or is it an actual selfie??? Take your guess! I'll say in the next ask! :DD

"Pinterest you can't fucking LIE TO ME—" Shadow Facade yelled.

"Are you trying to bait the viewers??? ARE YOU???" Solaris yelled.

Hollow Julieta blinked with a confused face, turning over the opposite side to sleep on the floor better. She shrugged, "Might as well just sleep."

"OI! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SLEEP—"

"It is clearly pinterest, I do not care if it's real or not, I just want to sleep."

"For a second thought I thought l3xdrigo twisted a leg—" "Lmao why"

[roxyfoxgamer150]

While eating peanut butter I realized it was expired, the expiration date was last year... I continued eating it cuz why not :]

"BITCH WHY WOULD YOU EAT IT???" Observer Mirabel yelled, shaking the blue game system that was showing the ask, she was visibly horrified.

Scrappy Mirabel blinks, "Did you even see mold be in there?" She asked.

Meanwhile, if Hollow Julieta had emotions, she'd be livid. "What made you think of eating a year expired peanut butter." She deadpanned, slowly merging with her bed, utterly defeated.

"Reminds me of the time I ate a mentos that was already out of it's plastic, so I ate it. And it turns out it's from a trip months ago where I was about to eat it and forgot it." Akuma stated.

Solaris can be seen weeping in the background, as well as vomiting up blood after hearing it.

[roxyfoxgamer150]

"Solaris calm down—"

"I'LL CALM DOWN ONCE I STOP BUCKING BREATHING YOU SON OF AN OWL!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY A HOD WHY WOULD YOU BREATHE"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW ANYMORE! I'M SO FAUST GOD WHATEVER DAMN CONFUSED!"

The white Alicorn Goddess screamed, clutching her head with her front limbs— front limbs because it kept changing into paws, hooves, and then hands and more.

Observer Mirabel stared at the unstable god, who was in a fetal position, being comforted by Hollow Julieta. "The fuck happened? Why does she look like she's having a fucking break down?" She asked.

Scrappy Mirabel flinched, "Yeahhh about that. Turns out there are new episodes of the Miraculous Ladybug, we forgot to watch one of it and it turns out, Lila was wearing a wig—"

"WHAT'S NEXT, LILA ISN'T HER NAME!? SHE LOOKED LIKE A NEW REPORTER! SHE MIGHT AS WELL BE AN EMPLOYEE FOR FUCKS SAKE!" She cried out, spikes appearing from her body as she rants.

Everyone froze and blinked.

"Oh wow I can create spikes, I can use this to threaten chrysalis!" "SOLARIS NO—"

Meanwhile, an alternate version of Marinette can be seen wheezing after seeing the whole episode.