#señor osvaldo ortiz

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Osvaldo: Would you ladies be there for me if I was going through something?

Mirabel: No. Absolutely not.

Isabela: I hope it fucking sucks, whatever you’re going through.

Dolores: I hope it scars you for the rest of your life.

Luisa: I hope you reach out to me, so I can ignore you.

Pepa: *doubled over laughing*

Julieta: I can’t wait to go to your funeral, knowing I could have changed that outcome.

[hannahhook7744]

Lemon Boy And Me Started To Get Along Together.

Summary: "You and me. What are we?”

"We're a team.”

(Also known as the one where Antonio is the fun Tío).

Encantober 2024: Team.

Trigger Warnings: swearing, dangerous presents, minor violence, anxiety, unhealthy coping mechanisms, death threats, tantrums, implied bullying, etc.

Co-written with @igetthedisneybox .

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Dolores was pacing back and forth as Mariano tried to calm her. “My baby’s night has to be perfect, and it’s not perfect. And people are going to be coming and what if he gets a gift like mine—”

“Mi amor, I can assure you, our little bebé will be just fine.” Mariano was trying (and failing) to get Dolores to see sense. “Princesa and Elmira’s ceremonies turned out just fine, no?”

“But Isabela’s triplets’ ceremony did not.” Dolores reminded, getting even more stressed out at the idea of their little Oscar getting a gift he hated like his cousin Arlo— Princesa herself hadn't even liked her gift at first, either! “What if he doesn't like his gift? What if it's dangerous? What if it hurts him like mine does me?”

“Then he has an entire familia here to help him.” He rubbed Dolores’ shoulders gently, trying to soothe her.

Just then Camilo called out from somewhere down the hall. “Oscar! Where are you, Sobrino?” 

And like that, Dolores' panic spiked even further. “You lost my hijo?!”

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Twenty-two year old Antonio tiptoed into the nursery and sat down on Oscar’s bed, unsurprised to find the room devoid of the younger kids. “Everyone’s looking for you.”

Only silence answered him. 

Antonio sighed. His sobrino was just like he was at that age; quiet, with a preference to spending time alone rather than with the family. “Oscar…come on out. Let’s talk.”

The quiet stretched on for another moment before his sobrino slowly crawled out from under the bed in the sky blue tuxedo Mirabel had made him. Oscar had the same skin tone as Dolores with her big brown—nearly black—anxious eyes and curly brown hair, and he had Mariano’s smile. He was also quite as mouse—Antonio would know.

“You’re nervous about your gift ceremony.” Antonio stated.

Oscar nodded, looking down at his feet as he joined him on the bed—clutching the stuffed raincloud Mirabel had made him when he was just a little bebé. “Sí, tío. Sí.”

Antonio looked around the room conspiratorially. “You wanna know something? I was just as nervous when I got my gift.”

The birthday boy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really.” Antonio nodded. “I was hiding under my bed, too.”

“But your gift is Magnífico!”

He laughed. “It is. But I didn’t know that before I got it. In fact, I wasn’t sure I was even gonna get a gift.”

Oscar’s lips thinned as he looked away, hands grasped together in his lap and his cheeks darkened slightly. 

“...are you worried about not getting a gift?” Antonio cocked his head slightly. “You don’t want to be like Mirabel?”

Oscar shook his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. “No, no! I like Prima Mirabel! I just…”

“You don’t want to feel left out.” Antonio surmised.

“I don’t wanna be stuck in th’ nursery.” He wrinkled his nose at the thought, hunching over slightly. Feeling ashamed at having to voice the thought because he knew that it was wrong and that his favorite Prima would feel hurt if she heard about this. “Señor Ortiz saids Mira didn’t leave it till she was bigger, like you.”

Mirabel had gotten her room when the rebuilding of Casita had finished. She’d been sixteen. 

Damn it, Osvaldo. You dense motherfucker.

“You wouldn’t be.” Antonio promised. “You’d share a room with me.”

“I would?” The five year old asked quietly, voice full of relief, and eyes hopeful. 

“Of course you would! My room is huge, niño.” He grinned. “You can share a bed with Chispi.”

“But tío, Chispi  still wets the bed.” Oscar giggled, trying to muffle it with his hands so that his mother wouldn’t find them just yet. 

“In his defense, capybaras think the whole world is their bathroom.” Antonio was glad he managed to make his nephew smile.

“Oscar!”

“Antonio!”

“Where are you?”

“Uh oh. Los adultos are looking for us.” He pulled the box he’d brought in from behind his back. “I’d better give you your birthday present now.”

“Present?” Oscar leaned in closer to get a look at the box; unsurprisingly, it had animal print wrapping paper with a big bow. But surprisingly, it had holes poked into it. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

Oscar needed little more prompting, scrambling to unwrap the box and untie the bow so that he could see what his tío had gotten him that needed air holes. Gasping in delight when a massive spotted python slowly peaked it's head out of the box, lifting the lid up to stare at him. “It's mine?”

“He is.” Antonio confirmed. “His name is Noodles, and he says he’s very happy to meet you.”

“Hi noodles! I'm happy to meet you too!”

Noodles titled his head and slid out of the box, wrapping around him ever so slowly but gently. “Thank you Tío ‘Tonio. I loves him!” Oscar’s voice rose ever so slightly. 

“De nada, Oscar.” He hugged him tight. “And remember: whatever gift you get, or even if you don’t get one, you are exceptional.”

Oscar beamed at him.

“Oscar!”

“Antonio!”

“Come on guys, the ceremony's about to start.” How no one had thought to check the nursery, Antonio would never know. It wasn't exactly a hard place to guess.

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“Casita?” Mirabel whispered, holding the golden doorknob with the ‘M’ on it that her family had made her all those years ago when their home was being rebuilt….after the cracks. 

The tiles beneath her feet shook slightly, Casita’s way of saying ‘What’s up?’

“No matter what happens today, my primo better be getting a room.” The miracle holder felt bad essentially threatening her life long friend—her home—but she knew how nervous her bicho silencioso was about being stuck in the nursery. 

And she remembered how much she herself had hated being stuck there when she was ten and sharing a room with a baby who needed hourly attention. Let alone as a teenager who wanted privacy. She wasn't gonna let her nephew suffer the same fate. 

Casita shuffled the tiles under her feet again, this time drawing her backwards a little, almost making her stumble. She was pretty sure that was Casita-speak for ‘Oje! I did what I had to do for the familia at that time!’

But Mirabel wasn't going to let the house off that easy. “I don't care if it was for the family. It wasn't fair and I won't be having Oscar or any of the niños stay stuck in the nursery, whether they are the next miracle holder or not.” 

Casita, being stubborn as always, just slammed a cabinet in response. As if asking ‘what are you gonna do about it?’. 

Unfortunately for the sentient house, Mirabel had foresaw it being difficult and had come up with a plan to force it to listen to her. “If you try and withhold a room from any of the niños for as long as my soul exists, I will paint you puke green and keep you decorated year round for Christmas.”

Two of the tiles pulled itself completely up, almost like the house was surrendering to her, crying ‘Comprendida!’

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Oscar wandered around Casita, looking for his mom, knowing that she was probably still looking for him so his ceremony could began. Noodles still wrapped around his small frame. 

Dolores was in fact, looking for him. And when she saw him…

“Oscar! What on earth is that?!” 

“It's my friend, Noodles!” Oscar replied gleefully—a wide smile on his face, all traces of his previous nervousness gone—unaware of how his madre was feeling for once. “Tonio gaves ‘im to me. Isn't he cute?”

The snake raised an eyelid, glancing at Dolores boredly. 

Dolores’ eye twitched. “S-sure, nene. Sure.”

Then, she turned around. “ANTONIO BRUNO ESPINOSA MADRIGAL!”

“You'll never catch me alive!”

She took off her sandal, storming after her baby brother. “YOU GAVE MY BABY A SNAKE?!”

“Maybe!” 

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” By now, almost all the family had come out to watch, as Dolores never screamed or yelled. It sure was a sight.

Unfortunately for her and fortunately for Antonio, her brother was very fast. Much faster than Dolores herself was. Likely to do with how much time he spent running around with wild animals and treating them. 

Needless to say, the ceremony ran a little late. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Oscar swallowed, hesitantly moseying himself up the stairs to where Prima Mirabel was waiting for him. An alert Noodles wrapped protectively him still. 

She smiled softly, beckoning him forward.

The brunette bit his lip, hard and sped up, well aware of all the eyes on him. Wanting this to just be over already.

Once he was in place, Mirabel knelt to his level, holding out her doornob for him to touch. “Will you use your gift in any way you see fit? Will you act in the best interest of yourself and others?”

Oscar laid his tiny hand upon the golden knob, letting out a choked. “Sí.”

The music turned up and then went completely silent as—... nothing happened?

Mirabel squinted at his door, adjusting her glasses. “Uh…This is the tricky part, now…what does that look like to you?”

There was another him on the door—but unlike Oscar, he had his hands over his mouth. Eyes wide open, as if he was shocked or something.

“Like he's gonna puke.” He guessed, unsure, raising a brow at it and slowly inching closer to his adult prima. Growing nervous as the muttering started and the staring increased. 

“Hmm…I’d say that it looks closer to your Mamá’s door.” Mirabel mentally went through any speech related powers in her head. “Ricky’s already got lie detection…maybe some type of speaking power?”

Oscar's face crumbled—the thought of having a power that could hurt his mama crushing him. 

Mirabel noticed and only panicked a little. “Ah! It’s okay! We don’t know for sure what it is, Dolores help me.” She said that last part over her shoulder, where Oscar’s parents were.

When Arlo hadn't liked his gift, he'd gone running for Isabela. 

When some of Tío Bruno's kids didn't like their powers, he and Tía Pepa had been able to reassure and comfort them by relating. 

And when Princesa had knocked herself out with her gift, it had been easy to comfort her. 

Oscar…was a different story…

“Mi bebé.” Dolores surged forward, leaving Mariano to comfort the twins, who were confused and worried.

Oscar's lip trembled as he rushed to meet her. 

She scooped him up, planting him on her hip. “It’s okay. I bet whatever your gift is, it’ll be maravilloso.”

The five year old said nothing as he buried his face in her shoulder, breath hitching. Something Noodles didn't like—so the python looked around the room, almost glaring at the staring and muttering townspeople and hissing. 

Only someone without sense would need to Antonio's gift to know that the creature was telling to ‘SHUT UP!’. 

Dolores glanced at Mirabel. “How do we figure out what his gift is?”

“Mamá said that it took her a while to figure out her gift. We might just need to wait for his to show itself.” Mirabel was just silently thanking the heavens that the boy's door hadn't disappeared.

She really hadn't wanted to get on Casita's bad side.

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Oscar laid in his bed, face buried in the large pillow he was hugging. Silently crying as Noodles nudged him. 

He didn't want a speaking gift; he didn't want to risk hurting his mom. He loved his mom. Why would Abuelo give him a gift that would hurt her?

He didn’t hear the knock on his door, but Casita opened the door.

“Oscar? It’s Tío Antonio.”

“Come in…” He sniffled, half heartedly. Glaring at the padded, cornflower blue walls of his room as if they'd personally offended him. 

Antonio walked in, hands in his pockets, vaguely noticing that the floor faintly resembled parchment paper with splotches of ink splattered on it. 

“How are you feeling, niño?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he noticed how muffled his voice sounded, similar to Dolores’ own room. 

Oscar just hugged his music note covered pillow tighter, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Antonio made his way through the room, taking in the sights. The ceiling seemed to mimic the color of the sky outside (which, at the moment, was perpetual rainfall as it had been since the night before), there was a corner of the room filled with musical instruments, and another with books. Nothing to indicate what his gift might be.

When he finally reached Oscar’s bed, he plopped down onto it, waving to Noodles, who was curled up in a ball beside Oscar. “Okay, so you’re not feeling so great.”

The curly haired boy (his first nephew) just nodded. “Scared.”

“I get that.” Antonio shuddered as he remembered feeling that way as Casita collapsed around him, and later, when he realized that his newfound powers were gone. “And it’s okay to be scared. But you know what’s not okay?”

“What?”

“Shutting yourself away from your familia. We support you, and we’re here for you. Especially your parents and Tíos. You and me. What are we?”

“We’re a team.” Oscar whispered, sitting up on his knees. 

“That’s right.” He held out his hand. “A team.”

Oscar took it—he was wearing pajamas that Antonio didn't recognize; ones with little rest musical notes. “Is Abuela Pepa mad with me?”

“No, niño. She’s just worried about you. Everybody is.” Antonio tussled Oscar’s curls.

“Do you think my gift will hurt mamá? I don't wanna hurt mamá.”

Antonio gaped. “No! Of course not.” Was that why he was holed up in his room? He was worried about his powers hurting Dolores?

“Prima Miraboo said that my gift could be a speakin’ one.”

Antonio was quiet for a little bit, considering what to say next. “You think Lusia was worried about hurting people with her gift when she first got hers?”

Oscar considered the question, before nodding. “She really strong and she's always careful when she hugs me.”

“Exactly. She’s never hurt anyone with her gift, because she practices. She knows what she can do. And you can learn to do that too, okay?”

“I can?” 

“Yup. As soon as we figure out what your gift is, then maybe Luisa can help you understand and control it.” Antonio hoped he was making leeway.

“..that’s good.” Oscar relented. “Can we go play?”

“He–heck yeah!” Dolores would kill him if he taught Oscar how to swear. “What’d you wanna do?”

“Fútbol.”

“Do you want to invite any other kids to play? Or just us?” He knew his nephew was quiet, and liked to play by himself sometimes—just like he was.

Oscar thought about it. “Claudine, cause she's cool, and Cyriacus, Rick, and Fuega because no one else plays with them.”

Antonio blinked—making a mental note to check in with his sobrina and primos at a later date—then switched gears. “Claudine, Rick, Cyriacus, and Fuega. Got it.”

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Oscar lit up when he saw their lost fútbol near Señor Ortiz's cart and went over to get it. 

“Hello, Oscar.” Señor Ortiz greeted him jovially. His six year old waved.

“Hola Señor Ortiz! How has your day been?” Oscar smiled shyly at him, holding the ball against his hip. 

“It’s been a drag.” Señor Ortiz sighed and rolled his eyes. “You know, ever since your gift ceremony, all the talk around town has been about what you got for a gift. Everyones wondering if you even got one.” Then he shrugged. “But eh, at least it's not prophecy again.”

Then he noticed the look on Oscar's face. 

His bottom lip was trembling, his brows were furrowed, and his eyes were getting a bit misty.  

“Uh…meaning, we’re so excited to figure out what it is! Finally! Uh, I mean–” Señor Ortiz was sweating, suddenly fearing for his own physical wellbeing. After the disaster of what he’d said to Mirabel (and his past grievances with Bruno) he’d sat on too many cactuses for it to be a coincidence.

Misfortunately for him, lady luck was not on his side today and Oscar burst into tears. 

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The front door opened, unleashing a barrage of noise into the house. 

Pepa and Dolores had been quietly talking in the kitchen when they heard the commotion. 

Dolores winced and covered her ears, while a small cloud formed over Pepa’s head, in response to being jump scared.

The two looked at each other, then made their way into the foyer.

Antonio stood close to the door, holding Dolores’ thrashing and screaming three year old daughter, Fuega. 

Three of Bruno’s children stood next to him; A frowning twelve year old Cyriacus, a scowling nine year old Rick, and a trembling, stressed out looking seven year old Claudine who was holding the fútbol Félix had gotten for Oscar's birthday. 

Speaking of Oscar….he was crying his eyes out, face buried in Parce’s back—Noodles hissing and wrapped around both of them. 

“¡Estúpido, maldito tonto!” Fuega screeched, hitting Antonio and trying to get him to let her down. “¡Ese bastardo calvo de mierda, lo odio! I kill him!”

Dolores did not know who to address first.

Luckily, Pepa took control of the situation. “What on earth happened?!”

Antonio cringed, ducking a well aimed kick to the face as he held Fuega out. Not answering.

He didn't really have to. Bruno's kids answered for him in unison, all grimacing and scrunching up their noses. “Osvaldo.”

Pepa face palmed. “Ugh. What did that bastardo say this time?”

“Mamá!” Dolores snapped at Pepa. “Now I know where Fuega is getting that language from!”

“I kills him! I kill him good!” Fuega kicked Antonio again. “I kill him and spit on his grave!”

Dolores was torn between which of her children she needed to help. In the end, a crying Oscar seemed more manageable than an angry Fuega.

She quickly went over and, with Parce’s approval, scooped Oscar off of his back and into her arms. “Oh, mijo. My poor nene.” 

Oscar buried his face into her neck, whimpering. “I'm never going outside again!”

Dolores looked at Cyriacus. “What did Osvaldo say?”

“He said things have been a drag because everyone is wondering what gift Oscar got and if he even got one and—” Cyriacus bit his lip, a single tear falling down his face (his eyes couldn't manage a lot of tears after his injury, they came to learn) before he continued, voice noticeably quieter. “Then he said at least it wasn't prophecy again.”

Both Bruno and Cyriacus had the gift of prophecy—though Cyriacus had apparently inherited his gift through his mother. 

Now Dolores was holding back swears. “Oscar, mi amor, what Señor Osvaldo said wasn’t true. You take your time figuring out your gift, bebé.”

“I don't feel good mamá.” He whispered. 

“We can go up into your room, if you like? Just you and Papá and I?”

He nodded, tiny fist gripping her sleeve tightly.

“Mamá, can you…take care of Fuega?” Dolores asked Pepa.

“Si. Come here, mi pequeña gasolina.” Pepa, taking pity on her poor son, gingerly took her fuming and murderous granddaughter from Antonio’s arms. 

“Abuela, we kill Baldo!” The little red head insisted, lip curled and eyes glaring. At this rate, Julieta was definitely going to lose the bet on what Fuega's gift would be because Pepa had little doubt in her mind that she would be getting nothing but pyro powers… and judging by how Bruno all but fled the room whenever the topic came up, she was sure she had practically already won their little bet. 

“No, Fuega. No killing…until we can get rid of the body.” She finished that last part in a whisper, only directed to her granddaughter.

Fuega immediately calmed, grinning and clapped. “Yay!” 

“But don’t tell your Mamá. I’m already in enough trouble from teaching you to swear.”

“Secreta.” Fuega said, nodding seriously; sticking her thumb in her mouth.

------------------------------------------------------------

Dolores walked in their room with a tired looking Oscar in their room. Once his bloodshot eyes landed on him, their only son reached for him. “Papá, I don't feel good.”

“I know, hijo.” Mariano gave Dolores a ‘what happened?’ look as he set Leta (now a year old) down in her playpen.

“Señor Ortiz forgot to use his brain again.” His beloved—always able to read him well— answered, gritting her teeth. “Also apparently Fuega has a worse mouth on her than mi madre.”

“That’s my girl. Fiery as her Abuela.” Mariano gave Oscar a conspiratorial wink.

Oscar giggled weakly. Then, after a moment, he whispered “I don't like Señor Ortiz anymore.”

“That is completely fair and okay.” He promised. “You don’t have to like everyone.”

“He's mean.” The brunette yawned, cupping and uncupping his hands. Hoping that his father would understand what he wanted. 

Mariano did, immediately scooping him up from Dolores’ arms. “Papá’s got you, hijo.”

“ ‘m Sleepy.”

“You want to take a siesta, then?” Mariano was already heading over towards the bed, kicking off his sandals.

“Sí.”

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It wouldn't be until a full three weeks later that they'd discover what Oscar's gift was. 

But that, is a story for another time…..

Though, it should be noted for the record that afterwards no one ever questioned whether or not the first son of Dolores and Mariano had a gift ever again. 

[achitka]

Burrita

Prompt for day 7 of #encantober

7. Donkeys

Burrita

Mirabel had perched herself among the branches of the great oak that was growing in the middle of the plaza as she watched Luisa moving about the town. School had let out early and she didn’t want to go home yet. Camilo had gone off into the woods with his friends, he said, to work on a ‘school project’. More likely he was planning another of his elaborate pranks and didn’t want her there as a potential witness. Her 13th birthday was coming up and since Tía Pepa was home with Antonio she didn’t need to hurry home to watch him. She actually had exams to study for but wasn’t feeling overly motivated to do that either.

She kinda needed to talk to her mom about something, but as she looked through the leaves she saw her mother’s stall, still had a full line of people. There was probably little chance she’d be able to talk her mom into a taking a break. Isabela was gliding through town making things as beautiful as her but Mira couldn’t talk to her either. Or rather Isa would just ignore her so there was no point. Delores was also out of the question since, like Isa, she didn’t pay much attention to her or even talk to her much. Luisa was still moving through the town, running this way and that helping people with her Gift.

There was a growl below her and Mirabel looked down to see Burrita staring up at her. She was Señor Ortiz’s cart donkey but she realized she’d not seen her pulling her cart recently. The donkey snorted then and Mira wondered why the donkey was focusing on her. Burrita was rubbing her hindquarter against the tree. Probably has an itch she can’t scratch, she thought, but she also was loathe to leave her perch. If Abuela saw her she’d likely send her home. Something else she did not want to do just then. Still Mirabel could not just stay hiding in this tree if the donkey needed her. Burrita looked up at her and gave a soft whuffle, as if to reassure her that no one of note was around.

“Fine,” Mirabel said and climbed carefully out of the tree. The donkey made space for her to jump down and after landing Mirabel said, “Thanks, Burrita.”

The donkey turned and head butted her and Mira noted for the first time how round the donkey’s midsection was. “Oh my gosh, Burrita, I didn’t know you were pregnant!”

Somewhere in the distance she heard, “Luisa! The donkeys!” Given the way Luisa usually collected the donkeys, no wonder Burrita had run off.

“What are you doing out of your pen?”

The donkey just gave her a look that told her she was asking a stupid question and the donkey laid down on the spot. Mira wasn’t sure if that was the best thing for her, but then she wasn’t a donkey. Luisa came by then carrying several other donkeys. As she approached Mirabel came and stood in front of Burrita.

“Wait! Luisa, I think she’s having her baby right now,” Mirabel said.  

Her sister had always had a keen interest in the animals of the Encanto. She’d helped with foaling before so Mira hoped she’d be able to help Burrita now. Luisa set down the donkeys she was carrying and said, “Really most donkeys will only foal at night. Let’s have a look then,” she said and moved to the rear of the animal and Burrita snorted at her and Luisa said, “Mira, do me a favor and sit near her head. I don’t want her to think I’m going to try and move her.”

“Okay,” Mirabel said and sat near the mare’s head and gently scratched behind her ears. Luisa took up a position near the tail and seemed to be waiting.

After twenty minutes Luisa said, “You were right Mira. Feet…nose are out,” and she reached over and pulled something sticky looking from the foal. “Good, good. Not a breach. Come on Burrita you’re almost there.”

Mirabel, while interested to find out what was happening at the other end of the donkey, decided it would be better if she stayed put. By now a small crowd had formed but they were mostly being held back by the other donkeys. Only a few people made it through including Osvaldo who smiled at Mirabel and thanked her. Then to Burrita he said, “That’s a good girl, Burrita. Almost there,” as he said this, he placed a hand on her muzzle. The donkey let out a series of grunts and Luisa looked up and said happily, “It’s a boy!” But her excitement turned to concern and she said, “She’s bleeding too much, Mira go and get Mamá, quick!”

Mirabel wasn’t going to ask questions and was up and scrambled under the donkey nearest her into the crowd. She pushed through it to get to her mother’s stall on the other side of the plaza. She emerged right in front of her Abuela who stopped her and asked her where she was going. Mirabel was torn between wanting to hold still as her Abuela told her she should do when being spoken to, and her need to get her mother.

“Mira!” Luisa shouted and Mirabel used that distraction to take off. She skidded to a halt in front of her mother, who saw her coming and said, “What’s happening, Corazón?”

“Luisa is helping with a foal and she said the mama is bleeding too much and she wants you to come.”

Her mother immediately grabbed a small basket of blueberries and a cup of water and together they returned to the crowd. Mirabel noted her Abuela had cleared a path for them. So, it was a shock when her Abuela caught her arm and stopped her at the edge of the crowd and said, “You’ve done enough Mirabel. It would be best if you left this to your sister and Mamá, okay?” Mira watched as the crowd closed again and she bit her lip as she nodded and turned away. A cheer went up, but she did not turn back to look. She’d been dismissed so there was nothing else to do but go home. Still, she would have liked to have met the little guy. She found out later that Osvaldo had named the baby Bruno because the foal had an hourglass shaped spot on his left shoulder. This made Mirabel wonder all over again where her Tío was. Her only real memory of him was that he was scruffy and smelled like a tree. It wasn't much, but she knew it was a good memory so clung to it.

You can read the rest of my offerings here:

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Dolores: Now, Antonio, you must grow up to be a decent member of society.

Dolores: Play lots of sport, eat fruits and celery, and help old people across the street.

Luisa: Except Señor Osvaldo Ortiz.

Dolores: Yeah, don’t help him.

Luisa: No. Hinder him!

Dolores: Hinder him from crossing the street.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

if no one asked yet can u do agustin headcanons?

Nobody’s asked for any of the characters yet, besides Julieta and I’d love to do more! So here’s Agustín:

Agustín’s parents were born in Bogotá, Colombia

His parents are called Sancho and Juana

His father taught him to play the piano, he gets most of his musicality from Sancho

He is a master at chess and tejo

He has studied many languages

He is fluent in English, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Greek, Latin and Hebrew

He is a carpenter

He and Pepa became close friends as they were both outcasts

There was never romantic feelings between them, although they did promise if neither were married by 50, they’d marry each other

He met Julieta through Pepa at a party as he needed to be healed after falling off a roof

Osvaldo Ortiz wasn’t a big fan of his

His relationship with Alma was always strained and he knew she only tolerated him because Julieta liked him

Whilst dating Julieta, he met Félix and the two became quick friends, to the annoyance of Pepa

Agustín, Bruno and Félix were the ultimate trio

He loves birdwatching

He is also friends with Señora Pezmuerto, the fish lady (they were neighbours)

He has always been very fashionable

He and Félix practised his proposal song for six weeks - Agustín also kept pushing the date back from his nerves

They were married in May, 1925 (film takes place in May, 1950, for comparison)

Agustín wrote his vows purely for Julieta full of cooking references and bad puns

They had a private ceremony with only a couple of close friends and their families in attendance

They always knew they were going to have three children

Isabela was Agustín’s choice

He frequently took baby Isabela on nature walks - they would both come back with bee stings

He and young Isabela frequently got themselves injured and in trouble with Julieta

He freaked out a lot with how late Luisa was

By the time November rolled around, he thought the baby was dead and had lost hope

He cried for hours when Luisa was born

Baby Luisa was very clingy and screamed if someone left her alone for even a second, she particularly latched onto Agustín

He proudly showed Luisa off to everyone and anyone when she started talking - her first word being “Papa”

Very much Alexander Hamilton with Philip

There was a lot of pressure for Julieta to deliver a son, as she had promised to name it Pedro, and it only got worse after each girl. So by the time the third pregnancy hit, everyone assumed it would be a boy, following Alma

Agustín and Julieta experienced postpartum depression with Mirabel, as it was a disappointment and everyone seemed to distance themselves from her

Agustín taught Mirabel to walk by throwing books off the shelf, which she would retrieve and put back as she didn’t like mess

He realised Mirabel needed glasses at Camilo’s ceremony, when she couldn’t see him shapeshifting

He is concerned for his girls’ health, but finds it funny that Isabela and Luisa are as clumsy as him

He taught Dolores piano prior her gift ceremony

Camilo is his favourite of Pepa’s children

He taught Mirabel piano when she was toddler

Isabela and Luisa always go to him for advice first

They also will admit to him if they’ve done something bad and he helps them hide the evidence from others

He has anisometropia (myopia in one eye and hyperopia in the other) - Mirabel has myopia in both eyes

He tried to teach his daughters languages, but none of them were overly interested, besides Luisa, who knows most of the languages he does

He leaves short, individual handwritten notes for Julieta and his daughters every so often

He cries for hours when Isabela starts wearing suits after the film

Agustín and Julieta get caught kissing, frequently

The older Mirabel gets the more he mistakes her for her mother, especially if she isn’t wearing her glasses

He can’t wait to walk his girls down the aisle

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Do you have headcanons for Julieta? And if so, what are they?

Indeed I do. Here’s a good few headcanons for Julieta:

Her middle name is “Esperanza”

Julieta decided, at the age of five, if she had a girl she was naming it “Mirabel” - neither Isabela or Luisa fit the name though, which is why it was left for last

As a child, she didn’t like her gift because it felt like a chore doing all the cooking and washing dishes

The only triplet who has no desire to leave Encanto or travel

Julieta didn’t have friends because she spent most of her time in the kitchen and with two siblings didn’t see the point

Alma didn’t let Julieta see her patients at first, not wanting to traumatise her

Julieta met Félix at dance classes

Julieta learnt sewing in school and would be the one to teach Mirabel, but was never great at it. Her old apron was made herself and very patchwork

She is obsessed with tea

Félix is a particular good cook and the pair usually work together for big evens (gift ceremonies, proposals, etc)

Julieta’s intended suitor was Osvaldo Ortiz - however, he’s not a nice guy, and thankfully Agustín moved into town

Osvaldo didn’t take it well

Julieta met Agustín through Pepa at a party in their late teens, he had six broken bones at the time

Agustín proposed to her with a song

They were married in May, 1925 (film takes place in May, 1950, for comparison)

Julieta loves puns and bad jokes (Agustín’s vows were full of them)

They had a private ceremony with only a couple of close friends and their families in attendance.

They always knew they were going to have three children

Isabela was the easiest pregnancy, and arrived perfectly on her due date

“Isabela” was Agustín’s choice, so Julieta picked the middle name, “Cristina”

Baby Isabela was a very difficult sleeper, who enjoyed the sound of thunder, so slept in Pepa’s room. She really liked Pepa, much to Julieta’s annoyance

Luisa was the hardest pregnancy, and was a month late

“Luisa” was Julieta’s choice

Baby Luisa was very clingy and screamed if someone left her alone for even a second, she particularly latched onto Agustín and Julieta frequently worried they were going to get hurt

There was a lot of pressure for her to deliver a son, as she had promised to name it Pedro, and it only got worse after each girl. So by the time the third pregnancy hit, everyone assumed it would be a boy, following Alma

Agustín and Julieta experienced postpartum depression with Mirabel, as it was a disappointment and everyone seemed to distance themselves from her

One townsperson suggest to her they get rid of Mirabel and try again like she never existed

That person has not been healed for anything since

Baby Mirabel wasn’t clingy at all, she didn’t like being hugged and was easily pleased. Julieta thinks it’s because of how they initially didn’t bond with her

Young Isabela and Luisa were very scrappy and clumsy, frequently getting injured. Julieta thinks they’ve grown out of it now, she’s wrong. They’re Agustín’s daughters

When stressed she over-cleans, a habit young Mirabel also picked up

Keeps little treats in her pockets at all times

Won’t allow Isabela in the kitchen

If she or Félix aren’t there, Luisa is in charge of the kitchen - they have taught her well

Sometimes (prior film), Julieta pretends to be tired, to get Luisa to stay at home and cook, to prevent Luisa from overworking herself

She does the family food shopping

She frequently doesn’t buy café con leche because she thinks Isabela and Luisa drink too much of it

Julieta can’t take care of plants for the life of her, she overwaters them and has killed many of Isabela’s

She thinks raising Isabela was what it was like raising Pepa

Julieta thinks it’s funny and cute when Agustín mistakes Mirabel for her, but not when anyone else does it

Julieta is the parent to bring baby photos for the in-laws

Agustín and Julieta get caught kissing, frequently

Really wants to be an Abuela to many grandchildren

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Señor Osvaldo Ortiz: *handing Mirabel the not-special special*

Luisa: *staring at them silently*

Agustín: You’re really quiet today, mija.

Luisa, still staring: Nobody plans a murder out loud, Papa.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Luisa: I do NOT have a favourite!

Dolores: Yes, you fucking do! I do even! We all do!

Luisa: Oh yeah? I’m sure anyone you name isn’t gonna—

Dolores: Mirabel.

Luisa: …is it that obvious?

Dolores: You literally threw a wagon full of supplies at Señor Osvaldo today because he told Mirabel that she wasn’t special. And then refused to help him or get your mother to heal him because he hadn’t apologised.

Luisa, sobbing: Yeah, well, he fucking deserved it! My baby sister is special! She’s just so sweet and adorable and precious, I would trade any of you for her.

Dolores: Exactly.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Isabela: I can’t believe I’m saying this but Señor Osvaldo is one of my favourite people in this town.

Dolores: He, alongside the rest of the town, literally use your baby sister as a scapegoat for everything. They are responsible for half of Mirabel’s trauma, anxiety and lack of self-esteem. They are partially the reason you get away with tormenting her and making all of that worse. And, just now, Osvaldo told said girl that her only use is being bad luck to our family, making the rest of us look good.

Isabela: How do I get an autograph?

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Camilo: Tío Bruno, I need your professional opinion on something. How do me and Mirabel die?

Bruno, using future vision: The local library collapses, Mirabel alongside Señor Osvaldo and his brother get stuck inside. We never find her head. She’s never identified.

Camilo: Ha! Told you, Dolores, books are dangerous. What an idiot!

Dolores: And Camilo’s death?

Bruno, using future vision: He slips after trying to do a cartwheel in the bathtub.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Isabela: Hey, Lola, what do you want for your birthday?

Dolores: For you, Camilo and Luisa to stop being chaotic; for Mirabel to stop being a smartass and stop beating me at chess; for my parents to stop embarrassing me in front of Mariano; for Tío Agustín to stop getting hurt every two seconds so I don’t have to keep telling Tía Julieta to make more arepas; for Tío Bruno to stop killing off my favourite characters and ships in his telenovelas; I have nothing for Antonio, he’s perfect the way he is; for Señor Osvaldo Ortiz to stop talking; and for Padre Flores to stop yapping about his favourite horse at church.

Isabela:

Isabela: Yeah, I got like ten coins and two sunflower seeds—

[miracles-and-butterflies]

How'd Mariano react to the new plan? I can't imagine him taking it well

Isabela didn’t tell Mariano (or anyone for that matter) about what happened after he left, so… part of him thinks Isabela is over exaggerating or is still just speaking on emotion and doesn’t mean what she is saying.

They are interrupted by the presence of Señor Osvaldo Ortiz, who is bringing supplies for the engagement party that Alma is planning. This is the first Isabela and Mariano are hearing of this, but they can’t do anything about it. Mariano goes to complain to his grandmother, come up with some excuse to push the date back.

Isabela picks one of the boxes up, but plays the “I’m such a helpless young lady, you’re a big strong man, will you help me?” card to lure Osvaldo into Casita. He eagerly agrees to help. Disgusted by him, it only encourages her to test her new powers and dispose of him quicker than Dolores.

Mariano returns and… yeah. He doesn’t take it well.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

For @time-for-a-grandkid-round-up, based on the prompt: “Mirabel becoming the next candleholder after Alma.”

Of course! Here’s my take on this headcanon. This started as a joke because the headcanon robs Mirabel of her character development, but I wanted to write something for this. It gets worse before it gets better.

Comments are always appreciated.

Next part of ITOG.

~~~~~~

Intertwining Threads of Gold I

What is going on?

It had been a question in Mirabel’s mind for some time. Since the town leaders who worked with Abuela spent increasingly more time in Casita - she doesn’t think she’s ever seen her Abuela working so much; the family seem to be very aware of her, constantly staring and talking; and deliveries from Señor Osvaldo Ortiz have became very frequent. And no birthdays are coming up - Papa has just had his and Isabela’s isn’t for another two months.

If it was any comfort, she wasn’t the only one left unaware. Antonio, naturally as the youngest, was usually kept in the dark. Which meant that when he realised this was strange, he began bothering her for answers as the only one who would understand his frustration of not knowing.

Following another visit from the councilmen, all of whom made a point of acknowledging her in the middle of a conversation with Alma - having merely passed her and her cousin in the dining room - and even Abuela hadn’t look disgruntled about her presence being a distraction to their conversation.

However, Antonio wasn’t so dismissive. He yanked hard at her arm with a curious look in his eyes, without a care for the needle that went off centre in the process.

“Why’s everyone being so strange to you?” He asked.

“I know no more than you do, Antonio. But something is happening.”

“What do you mean?” He clambered up on to a chair beside Mirabel, briefly turning his gaze to where Tío Bruno was carrying in more boxes with Luisa and Camilo. The three of them were whispering and giggling like school children. “I mean, yeah, something is happening. But why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”

“I overheard Dolores telling Mariano that she couldn’t see him tomorrow. Therefore, something is happening. Something serious.” Mirabel observed.

Antonio gapped. His sister never went a day without visiting Mariano or vice versa. The idea of the couple being separate for once since Casita’s rebuild was practically unheard of. He glanced at his animal friends, who seemed just as clueless as he and Mirabel.

“What does that have to do with you though?” Antonio finally questioned.

She sighed, “That’s what I would like to know.”

Antonio pouted, throwing himself back against the chair. “But nobody tells us anything. They all think we’re babies. We’re never going to know what’s going on!”

Frankly, Mirabel wouldn’t have to wait much longer for her answer.

A few hours later found Mirabel sat in her room, working on a new dress for Tía Pepa. She had been pondering over potential ways she might be able to get some information. Her best bet was the extended family, all of whom were terrible at keeping secrets.

Not even the whole truth, just a little hint at something that would hopefully put her mind on ease and she could be a little less on edge.

There’s a quiet squeak from the doorway, where Dolores poked her head round.

“The family is meeting in the dining room. Immediately.” She announced. Then, after a beat, added, “You’d be best to leave the sewing.”

Hesitantly laying down her sewing, Mirabel smoothed over her skirt, adjusts her glasses in the mirror and followed Dolores down the stairs. Though she does want to know what’s happening (and that this sudden meeting is most likely about it), this was definitely not the way she wanted to find out.

When they arrive, Mirabel finds that the rest of the family (minus Antonio, Camilo and Luisa) are sat around the table. The table is lined with glowing candles, one of which looks brand new and waiting to burn. Everyone, besides herself, has a glass - the fancy glasses that haven’t been used since Isabela’s failed proposal - of red wine and beaming at her as she enters behind Dolores.

She can’t tell if this is more unnerving than the disappointed frowns and narrowed eyes she was expecting.

“Come sit with us, mi amor,” invites Julieta. 

Mirabel takes her chair beside Agustín, even more uncomfortable as everyone is still watching her expectantly. She keeps her eyes trained on Dolores as she walks around to her chair, whispering something to Félix that Mirabel doesn’t hear.

There’s an awkward silence as the family nervously glance at each other.

“Will you tell her, Mama?” Julieta asks. 

“No. You’re her mother, mija. You know best how to put these things.”

Julieta tries her best not to look disappointed by the response. She still needs a moment to recollect herself, take a breath and organise her thoughts. Perhaps waiting for someone else to get impatient or to take pity on her and start instead. Although, with each passing second, it’s clear that they are all waiting for her.

“Well, Mirabel, we have some excellent news for you,” her mother says. “You remember the night all the councilmen came to dinner? After you had gone to bed, we stayed up discussing the future of Encanto. It can’t be denied that your Abuela is getting older and she won’t be around forever, and someone needs to take the reins. Be in charge of running our community. Everyone felt it was important that the position stay within our family because of your Abuelo’s sacrifice and all of our family’s efforts.”

Mirabel nods along. It was only natural that one day Abuela would be surpassed and Mama, no doubt alongside Tía Pepa and Tío Bruno as they are triplets, will take on the mantle.

But everyone is still staring at her.

“And,” Julieta declares. “Your Abuela has decided that when she passes, you will inherit her position as town leader.”

The family suddenly cheer and applaud, compliments thrown this way and that. Speaking of throwing, colourful petals and confetti are also flying across the table.

But Mirabel wouldn’t know. She remains as quiet and still as humanly possible, in a twisted mix of shock and bewilderment. She is still trying to process her mother’s words, which leaves her unable to respond in any way.

Inherit.

Meaning, to gain something from a previous holder. In this case, becoming the next leader of Encanto. The next matriarch.

She is going to inherit. She, Mirabel Teresa Rojas Madrigal, the unknown, useless and giftless, jinx, is going to inherit the glorious and honoured position of her Abuela, Alma Madrigal, the woman who single-handedly created and governed a wonderful community, has raised several generations of both Madrigals and townspeople, blessed and bestowed countless miracles…

No. There is no way.

She doesn’t want this. She isn’t the next in line, literally - there’s still her mother, Tía, Tío, Isabela, Dolores, Luisa and Camilo before her. She doesn’t want this. She’s not even an adult, nor has she finished school yet - there are still final exams and qualifications and such. She doesn’t want this. She hasn’t even considered her options for her future - that is something she should be thinking about now, time is pressing, she’s useless. She doesn’t want this. She isn’t gifted.

No. She was what destroyed the miracle and Encanto. She cannot be pulled closer to it.

The Madrigal inheritance is going to be hers.

She looks around at the happy and proud faces of her family, blinking and blank-faced.

This must be a dream. This has to be a dream.

“What?” Is all Mirabel says; she must sound pathetic, and stupid.

Julieta smiles adoringly, “We were just telling you that your Abuela has chosen you as her successor, Mirabel. You will be responsible for looking after this town and continuing its success for the next generations. Your Abuela, your father and I, the council and the rest of our family have all agreed that this was the right decision.”

There’s various voices of agreement and thoughts from the rest of the family, but Mirabel doesn’t really pick up any of it.

“What?” She asks again.

Any moment now she will wake up in her room and this will all be ridiculously nonsensical. She will be snug in her little bed in her room, before hurrying into her morning routine. Perhaps she’ll tell her mother about this nightmare as she helps with breakfast.

Mirabel looks at her mother with as much determination as she can muster, but she’s still too shocked to react, “I can’t be.”

Tío Bruno reaches over to take both her cold, shaky hands, in a gesture of support.

“Kid, you’ve been given a seat on the council. The main seat!” Bruno corrects himself. He is beaming at her. “Didn’t I tell you that you were exactly what this family needed? I didn’t even need future vision to know that. Now you can show everyone what you can really do.”

“But what about Mama? And Tía Pepa? And you?” Mirabel questions, rambling.

“Doesn’t matter. We were all happy enough for the role to pass to you.” Pepa answers instead, her siblings nodding together. “Mama wanted it go to you.”

“But… my sisters? And my cousins? Their claim is as good as mine. Better even?”

This time, nobody bothers to reply. They had just answered that question. Mirabel still glances across to Isabela and Dolores just to be sure, she’s disappointed when she realises it is definitely the same answer as before.

“I can’t be,” Mirabel whispers, turning to her father this time. She braves a glance at the rest of the room. “I can’t.” She can feel tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to do it.”

“Calm yourself, Mirabel,” calls Abuela, since Mirabel’s parents, alongside everyone else, looks astounded at her lack of enthusiasm and are at a loss for words. “Let me tell you, that you are more than capable of this. I trust that you can do this. As does the rest of our family. Our miracle would have warned me when I came to this decision, if there was any doubt. Isabela?”

Taking her cue, her sister rises from Abuela’s side and picks up the non-lit candle, walking around the table down and setting it in front of Mirabel, where her hands are still joint with Tío Bruno’s. She shifts away.

She had barely batted an eye at the only non-lit candle beside Abuela, she assumed it had accidentally gone off or someone had forgotten. But now that it is close up, she can see the beautiful engravings and details reminiscent of Abuelo and Abuela’s wedding candle: that was lost barely two years ago.

A candle for her is a strange present in itself - she’s definitely not going to get married. And what would that have to do with her governing Encanto as the matriarch—

She is going to be the matriarch for the family too. She is going to be the next candleholder.

It feels like the whole world has stopped.

Everyone is still watching, smiling and nodding at her, a few of them are talking but Mirabel isn’t obtaining any of it.

“The candle is yours, nieta,” Abuela’s voice finally cuts through. She doesn’t even look disappointed or annoyed that Mirabel hadn’t worked it out herself, as she would have done a few years ago. “You will not only be the matriarch of the town, but of the family too. You will be responsible for protecting the miracle and bestowing gifts to the next generation. Once I am gone, my room will be yours.”

Tío Bruno goes to guide her hands towards the candle and Mirabel twists sharply in his hold. She touched Abuela’s candle twice and neither was a good experience. She isn’t going to cradle another candle. She won’t dare to do it again. She would sooner cut her own head off.

Once standing and free from Bruno, she catches her mother’s eye. “Mama,” she cries, and even she will admit she sounds childish as she does. “Tell them I can’t do it, I don’t want it.”

Julieta is up on her feet in an instant. Mirabel almost smiles from the instant relief she feels, even if it’s embarrassing to be saved like a child, as her mother comes around to her side. Her mother will rescue her from this misery. Even if it’s just to the kitchen to make a start on dinner, she doesn’t care, so long as it is anywhere but here.

But then her head is lifted by her mother’s hand caressing her cheek, “Mirabel, mi amor, we would never have arranged anything we didn’t think you weren’t capable of. And I completely understand your concerns, but this is a wonderful opportunity for you. Your father and I are so proud of you, your sisters too. You will make a great matriarch.”

“I can’t, Mama,” Mirabel says. “I can’t be. I don’t want to be.”

“You’re nervous, and it’s making you doubtful. It’s natural. You’ll warm up to the idea.” Her father tries next.

“I am not being doubtful, Pa. I don’t want this,” Mirabel reenforces gently, looking up to where he has joined Julieta’s side with a firm handing on Mirabel’s shoulder.

“You have only just heard the news, primita,” interrupts Dolores. “You need some time to truly think about it. You can’t let these worries hold you back in life. You’re growing up.”

“There are many good reasons for this decision, some you might not realise just yet. But you will, with time. You will start visiting the council with me, so that you can build on your confidence and understand the workings of our community.” Abuela continued.

The elderly woman gestured to Pepa, who unraveled a large scroll and passed it across the table for Mirabel. She didn’t make any attempt to take it. Bruno sets it down in front of her.

Not that Mirabel properly read the document, but from having a quick scan, she could sum up that it was an outline of the training she would undergo to prepare her for this role. Lists of dates, events to attend and people to meet. The word ‘ceremony’ beside her name makes her heartbeat uneasy.

She must be crying now - things are blurry in that familiar way, and her glasses are definitely still on. The family mistake it for joy or gratitude, as they just coo and gush at her.

“Now, let’s put these little doubts to rest, and focus on your bright future,” Alma concludes. “There are a few things we need to finalise with the council about this. I figured that you may want to come and do that yourself, or if not we can discuss them now. This has all been done for your benefit, nieta.” Alma’s eyes tearing up a little, fondly.

“I don’t want this.” Mirabel continues, turning back to her mother. “Mama, I can’t! I can’t do this!”

“Breathe, Mirabel. In and out. This is nothing to get upset about. It’s a good thing,” her mother reassures.

She pulls away from her parents’ hold. “No! I won’t do this - I can’t do this! Not if it’s going to hurt someone!”

“It’s not going to hurt anyone.” Another voice, maybe Tío Félix, cuts in.

“Yes, it will! This miserable future is going to kill me, if not anyone else! I should just do it now and spare you all the trouble.”

“Mirabel, come on, you are working yourself up over nothing. This is a great opportunity for you. Of course, there will be change, that’s natural. You should be happy.” This time it’s several voices talking at once and that is what she manages to pick up.

Mirabel stammered, looking around the room. “Is nobody listening? I don’t want it!”

“You’re shocked right now,” Isabela said. Everyone else is talking, suggesting similar ideas. As if everyone is deaf to Mirabel’s refusal. “Dolores is right, you can take some time to think about this. Maybe talk to someone about it.”

“What is the point of no-one cares? If nobody listens?” She retorts.

“We are listening,” Her father comments.

“And we do care about you.” Her mother finishes.

“Then why don’t I matter?” Mirabel inquires, with tears stinging her eyes.

Mirabel doesn’t give anyone the chance to respond, quickly leaving the room.

The family is in silence once again.

Alma and Bruno turn to each other, gapping and not blinking; Isabela sits back in her chair, sipping at her wine; Dolores excuses herself, deciding to be the one to check on her brothers; Pepa and Félix keep opening their mouths, but can’t think of anything to say.

Julieta turns to her husband from the empty spot Mirabel had left, as silent as everybody else, but looking a little more sullen then simply confused or shocked.

Agustín clicks his tongue, “She took that well.”

[miracles-and-butterflies]

New AU, Again

I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to start the Brooklyn Nine Nine AU.

~~~~~~

Setting is still the same - ninety-ninth precinct in Brooklyn, New York, story starts around 2012, with the group awaiting the arrival of a new captain.

Dolores Estrada, Sergeant

Aaron Thomas, Detective

Osvaldo Ortiz, Detective

Rendon Hansen, Detective

Luisa Rojas, Detective

Camilo Serrano, Detective

Isabela Velez, Detective

Mirabel Rojas, Precinct Secretary/Assistant

Feel free to ask questions (to me or the characters) or send headcanons for me to rate, just be sure to specify in the ask!

Nothing is really a spoiler here - so whatever you ask, you will definitely get a full answer.

*To note, the family relationships are changed - there’s no way an entire family all become detectives and ended up in the same precinct. It also got confusing with the names. Luisa and Mirabel are still sisters; Dolores and Camilo are family friends; Isabela and Dolores are friends from the academy.

**Osvaldo Ortiz and Rendon Hansen are based off the townspeople, Señor Osvaldo Ortiz and Señor Rendon respectively. Aaron Thomas is just a random friend OC for Camilo.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Synopsis:

Post rebuild, the Madrigal kids decided to eat out at a restaurant in celebration. Mirabel and Isabela end up attracting some unwanted attention. Fighting ensues.

They later talk about it; sisterly feels.

Warning, sensitive topics below.

Careful, It’s Carnivorous

Mirabel was on her way back from the bathroom at the time. She was insistent that she was going to wash her hands before eating, even though they were clean because it was good manners. She’d been teased by Camilo and Isabela for being such a “proper young lady” as Abuela might say. Luisa hushed them by hitting them with a napkin, while Dolores had muttered something about how she was sure Mirabel would get overwhelmed and come back. Fortunately, the bathroom had been empty at the time, so now she was looking forward to returning and proving Dolores wrong. When a hand curled around her wrist and turned her around.

“A bit strange for you to be out, I never normally see you around. What’s the occasion?” She recognised the voice, the nephew of the delivery man, Señor Osvaldo Ortiz.

She stumbled over her words, “I… I got my exam results. My sisters and cousins wanted to celebrate.”

“You always were such an academic, weren’t you? Well, congratulations. I’m guessing the results were perfect?” She nodded, hesitantly. “Then you definitely should be celebrating. Have you not got a boyfriend to make use of that smart mouth of yours?”

“Pardon?” She questioned.

The rest of his friends, sat just behind him at a table, snickered. He himself chuckled at her, too. Something in her gut told her to leave.

“I should be getting back to them,” Mirabel tried to excuse herself.

“You’ve never had a boyfriend, have you? That’s a shame, now you’ve got a subject you’re lacking in.” He leaned down to her.

When she didn’t respond, he used his other hand to grasp ahold of her chin, tilting her head upwards

“That’s okay. Why don’t you come with me and we could try raising that grade up for you?”

“I’m not interested in that, thanks.” She tugged at her hand.

He kept a firm grip; she wasn’t going anywhere. “Now, now. You already lost a gift once, you’re too clever to make the same mistake twice, muñeca. This could finally be your chance to be useful,” he suggested. He placed their combined hands over her stomach. “Wouldn’t your abuela be so happy and proud of you for more magical blessings?”

That sent a chill down her spine. She always hated that her response was to freeze or fawn, depending on the situation. For once, could she not do literally anything else? Her mind was already lost. Even though things have changed, she’d still do anything to prove herself useful and win their approval. But not this. Please, not this. She’s trapped. All over again, just like when she was in Casita. Dolores, she begged internally - their table was too far for anyone to see, her only hope would be that her cousin would hear.

Then again, they were in the middle of town on a busy evening. In an already loud restaurant, with music and laughter. Dolores isn’t going to hear her, especially when she’s so quiet and small. She tries forcing herself to scream, but nothing. She can’t even utter a word. She thinks she might be having a panic attack. It’s her fault, she never should have let her mind wonder to Casita’s collapse— God, she really can’t help herself, can she?

“¿Muñeca? Anyone in there?” He asked, waving his hand in front of her frozen figure. He turned back to his group, laughing. “Supongo que es cierto lo que la gente dice sobre este: ver cosas que no existen. Ella no será un problema.” His hand replaced itself around her waist, guiding her useless body into walking.

“Hey!” He stopped, turning at the sound of the voice, Mirabel finally managed to breathe as she spotted Isabela approaching. Her sister laying a hand on her shoulder, protectively. “Diego, don’t you have something better to be doing than bothering someone who’s not interested in you and your pathetic dick?”

His friends howled behind him in hysterics. He glared at them in an attempt to them shut up before going to answer her sister.

“You know I’d much rather be trying my luck with you, boñita, but you apparently bat for the other team,” he admitted, giving her a sultry look up and down. “You’re perfect, if not for being a lesbian. ‘Bel here takes after your mother, doesn’t she?” To emphasis what exactly he meant, he let his hand stop at her chest.

Isabela’s eyes narrowed. “Take your hands off my sister before I make you.”

“Fine. I’ll see you around, muñeca.” He grumbled, walking away. But not without taking a deliberate squeeze at Mirabel’s breast as he took his hands away.

The second his hand left her body, a set of vines tied themselves to his body and threw him straight into the bar. That was the only clear thing Mirabel saw. Isabela pushed her to the side as she continued on to attack Diego, lunging herself in his direction. The rest of his friends took a moment to shake themselves before similarly trying to go for her. Mirabel was vaguely aware of most of the people taking the opportunity to flee the restaurant. There was a clatter of chairs and shouting. With the room looking more spare, she finally pinpointed the others. Luisa was immediately on her feet, cracking her knuckles as she joined the fray with Camilo not far behind her, shapeshifting into a more challenging opponent. Dolores went the opposite direction, looking for some of management.

When she looked back, she found Isabela pinned by several of Diego’s friends to the floor. One of them trying to kiss at her neck. Her sister was clearly struggling now, possibly panicked herself, because she couldn’t concentrate enough to use her gift to defend herself. Luisa and Camilo were too preoccupied in their own fights and were unable to help her, that is if they even noticed at all. Mirabel grabbed a discarded tray off a table and raised it as she approached. Isabela needed help, that was more important than her pacifism right now. She just needed to provide a distraction long enough for Isabela to regain control.

She didn't get very far before Diego, who had managed to get back onto his feet and sneak out from where he had been cowering behind the bar - at least until Isabela was restrained - grabbed her wrist, yanking her back to him. The tray clattered to the floor, she found herself pinned against the wall.

Diego sneered, “Come here, muñeca. I'm not finished with you yet. I was only being friendly and you had to go do this - or well, your sister did. Lesbians are so deranged.”

Isabela yelled out after taking a fist to the face.

“Look at what's happening to your precious familia,” he taunted. “You aren't worth all that. You aren't worth shit. You know that, don't you?”

He dropped her to the floor, landing two kicks in her ribs. He was going for a third, she could see it from the corner of her but he was tackled away from her by Luisa. Or Camilo shapeshifting as Luisa. She wasn't sure. They were gone from her line of sight before she could really check. She shifted herself back against the wall, weakly, needing the physical support but also wanting to have something to ground herself. She was wounded, badly. One glance at her blouse told her that, as if the pain didn't clue her in - rumpled, bloody and the faint outline of broken ribs.

At some point, Isabela had managed to shake some of the guys off her and her gift, now that she could concentrate to use it was back into play. The bar was soon sprouting with a variety of plants, possibly some beyond Isabela's intentions as a few ended up narrowly hitting Luisa and Camilo, still in the thick of the fight, only using their bodies.

Mirabel couldn’t bring herself to watch any more of it. She curled in on herself, eyes squeezed shut, praying to God for it all to be over. She ignored the shouting and attacks and the vibrations against the floor, the smell of alcohol and copper of blood. She knew this was a bad idea. She had told her sisters and cousins she didn’t want to go out, she didn’t deserve to be celebrated, and now look where it had gotten them. She sobbed miserably to herself.

A hand gently laid itself on her shoulder and someone crouched by her, some time later. She still didn’t open her eyes.

“Mirabel? Mirabel, it’s just me, primita. It’s Dolores. You can open your eyes. It’s okay, just breathe.” Her cousin’s voice sounded beside her ear, whispering comfortingly. Her other hand slipped into one of her own, rubbing circles over her knuckles.

When Mirabel blinked her eyes open, she immediately wanted to close them again.

Though it was nice to see that Diego and his friends were no longer in sight and the fighting had stopped, seeing her sisters and cousin injured wasn’t much better. Luisa, due to her strength, had suffered the least of the three - she looked just as disheveled; her hair loose and sweaty, and sticking to her skin; and had a few scratches and bruises from the men over her skin. Her only real injury was a busted lip. Camilo was sat on a bar stool beside her, now back to himself, with a shiner under his eye. One of his knees was completely dislocated and bent out of place, he was also cradling his wrist limply. Meanwhile Isabela had to be held upright by Luisa, as Camilo dabbed some napkins with his other hand under her broken nose. The blood coming away was almost black. She had a slight bold patch from where a chunk of her hair had been torn from her scalp.

She might actually be sick. Or faint. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

“L-Lola,” she trembled. She can’t breathe.

Dolores hushed her gently, sensing the distress. “It’s okay, Mirabel. I’ve got you.”

She pulled her into an embrace and Mirabel clutched her tightly, damning her own pain and dislike for confined space. She rested her head on Dolores’ shoulder, crying again before she knew it, closing her eyes shut.

Her mother healed them for all their injuries as soon as they made it through the door. Even though both Isabela and Camilo wanted to keep theirs for a few more minutes, just to show the rest of the family first. Mirabel herself hadn’t wanted to be healed either, though that wasn’t for wanting to prank anyone; she just didn’t think she deserved it. But… she didn’t stand much chance convincing her mother to leave her with broken ribs.

She picked at her arepa lamely while Dolores recounted the events for her parents, Tío Félix and Tía Pepa, who had all appeared by that point. Isabela, Luisa and Camilo didn’t seem too displeased at all, happily chiming in where they could and making jokes, as though they weren’t just seriously injured in a fight. Mirabel couldn’t shake the guilt that clung to her. The family all insisted that it wasn’t her fault and it had taken a lot of convincing for Mirabel to agree by stating that it wasn’t. She didn’t believe it.

They offered to stay up and continue the celebrations for her exam results here, within the safety of Casita, but she declined. She claimed she was tired and wanted to go to bed. She hoped it was convincing; it wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t quite a lie either. She never did well with late nights and she did want to go to bed… just to cry as oppose to actually sleep.

Once changed and cuddled up against the pillows in mostly silence - with the exception of the occasional sniffle. She found she was maybe too tired to cry anymore. When a knock came to her door. She didn’t say anything, staying quiet. There was a beat, the doorknob twisted and Isabela poked her head in, squinting in the darkness.

“Sis?” She called. “Okay, I’m not as smart as you but even I know you’re awake.” Mirabel opened her eyes, sitting up as Isabela slipped into the room, closing the door behind her. “You okay? You wanna talk about it?”

“What is there to say? I’m the weird one with no feelings and you all got hurt because of me.” Mirabel mumbled.

“No, we got hurt because Diego and his friends are dicks!”

“Isa—”

“Now’s not the time to lecture me about my language, Mirabel. It’s true.”

Mirabel didn’t say anything more but gave a slight eye roll, just to make sure Isabela knew she disapproved of the swearing. Her older sister scoffed at the action. She sat down beside her on the bed.

“It’s not your fault what happened to us.” Isabela persisted. “You wouldn’t blame - I don’t know, Dolores - if she was in your place, would you? You’d say,” Isabela paused, clearing her throat. She sat up straighter, grabbing Mirabel’s feather fan off her desk and lightly fanning herself as she descended into her best impression of her sister. “‘Alas! That man is a worthless scoundrel, prima! Oh, woe is me! He should be tried before a court and upon being found guilty, should be subject to being hung, drawn and quartered for his lack of morals! Which reminds me of a one Sir Nicolas from medieval England who was’—”

“I do not sound like that!”

“Yeah, you do, sis.” Her sister tossed the fan back. “Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, like only a tiny bit, but the point still stands. You wouldn’t let Dolores or anyone else blame themselves, just you.”

She let the words sink in. It was true. It was her who had been blamed for every wrongdoing in the family for the past ten years though, even if she knows it had nothing to do with her. Old habits die hard and all that.

She hummed, “He and his friends shouldn’t get away with things though.”

“Well, we gave them one heck of a beating and Mama has no intentions of healing them, so that’s a start.” Isabela said. “I might visit later and leave a little something in their gardens, just as a reminder.”

“It’s not right how they act, how they just assume interest and take control.”

“Yeah, some men are pigs.”

There was no need to argue with that.

“If something like that happens again, kick between the legs or scream and one of us will come and kick between the legs.” Isabela explained, smiling.

“Thank you, Isa.” Mirabel said, smiling back. “I feel much better now.”

“I know, I’m a goddamn gem. What would you do without me?” Isabela pulled herself back onto her feet, heading for the door. “And you aren’t ‘weird’ or ‘broken’ or whatever else you seem to think because you don’t feel non-platonic love, that’s not a problem. That’s not why tonight happened. The problem is sexual harassers, okay?”

“I understand, but thank you again.”

“No, seriously! You don’t need to excuse it by wanting to be a nun or anything. You can just tell people. You should embrace it more.”

“Yes, what helpful advice, Isa. I’ll just embroider ‘I feel no attraction’ on my skirt to make sure that there can be no misconceptions by anyone ever again.”

“Wait, really?”

“I was being sarcastic!”

“Damn. I was gonna ask you to embroider ‘fuck I fucking love women’ on mine.”

Mirabel paused. “…I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Isabela pulled the door open, smirking to herself. “That’s part of my charm! Being wild and doing the unexpected, so none of you - not even you and your brains and flawless grades - can workout my next move.” She looked proud. “Seriously though, I know the whole celebration was ruined, but you did a good job and you shouldn’t let some fucking bastard ruin it.”

“Language! Goodnight, hermana.”

“It’s English.”

“Okay, now you’re being immature—”

“Can’t hear you, already out the door! Night, little sis!”