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mr-stendahl · 3 years ago

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Housekid AU Part 3

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Idea: Casita raises Mirabel

Perspective shift

Mirabel was the first to break. Again.

She had been making Kuya Mariano a looser shirt (his Guard training was giving him so much muscle it's getting ridiculous) one afternoon, finishing off the last of the adaptation stitches (she loved making him new clothes but repairing the arms everyday was such an annoyance) along with some cleaning ones, when the 13 year old himself strolled into the sewing room holding two cups of Chocolate Santafereño.

He sat down beside her with a heavy thud, then whistled in appreciation at the elaborate bucks prancing on flower paths stitched in a beautiful asymmetric pattern from the shirt's shoulders down to the waist.

"Ay, Miraposita! You're getting better everyday!" He smiled, offering her one of the cups as he gently ran his fingers over the finished parts of the embroidery. "It's so cool!"

Maybe it was the sweet smell of the drink, maybe it was the soothing tiredness that came with accomplishing a task, or maybe it was the genuine appreciation in his tone for her work- Mirabel will never know.

"You really think so, hermano?"

Not missing a beat- because he's big old, adorably dumb, supportive and caring Mariano -the older boy nodded furiously (not at all noticing Mirabel's panic). "Of course! Look at the detail! The color and- see? The shine! You're so talented, hermanita!"

Then with a wide smile, his hand reached out and ruffled her curls.

"I can't wait to wear it!!!"

(Her mother was laughing at her, she just knew it. If she didn't then, she definitely did when the same thing happened with Senora Guzman and it took poor Mirabel until 3am in the morning to realize.)

"Good night, Abuelita!"

"Buenas noches, nieta!"

Mirabel, 8 hours later, waking up in a cold sweat: "Wait-"

(Ugh, Mami! Can't you see I'm busy dying inside?)

Somehow, the acknowledgement of siblinghood between the Guzman boy and the youngest Madrigal girl made the following months a hectic storm of fun, bizarre, and strangely educational chaos.

With the increased comfort they had in each other's presence, Mirabel had taken to teaching Mariano parkour, while Mariano had taken to pulling a Casita and deciding that teaching an almost 7-year-old how to use a machete was good payment for her free-running lessons.

Suffice it to say, they had given Senora Guzman more than enough near heart attacks to last a lifetime.

"Hermano! You think you can jump that?"

"Mira! You gotta swing- no, not like- yeah! That! Put all your weight into it! You gotta mean it!"

"Yano, no, you have to duck your head and roll. And- wait! Don't land on your heels!"

"Swing! Up! Down! Swing it, Mira! Swing! Woah, don't over do it- ACK!"

"Catch me, hermano! Ha! You think you can just- wATCH ThE TILE!"

"Okay, just like that, you have to take good care of your machete, otherwise you're just gonna be swinging around an extra hard piece of wood."

"Repeat after me- Yano, please -Don't lock your knees. Ever. ¿Comprender? Buena."

"Okay, it just occurred to me that you are small (Wha- ow! Hey! It's true!). So, how about you try moving your entire body with the swing, not just your arm? Like...hmm... come here, Mira, let's try this..."

"Yeah, yeah! That's it, hermano! Fly, Fly!"

"Dance with me, hermanita. Let your blade sing."

Of course, they didn't stop with just Parkour or Machete fighting- no no. Mirabel then taught Mariano the art of sneaking around, making his footsteps so light they could be mistaken as the scuttering of rats. Mariano, in turn, taught Mirabel all sorts of things his Papa had taught him: hunting with a bow and arrow, repairing things around the house, riding a horse, etc.

You would often see the two children popping in and out of random points in town, either training a skill or learning a new one. A common occurrence during days when Mira didn't have a sewing lesson was a race from La Casa Guzman to a chosen house. They would take turns on using the rooves, horses, or pure speed and endurance on the roads- sometimes, they'd even get other children to join in on the fun. Now, those days were just an utter maelstrom of befuddlement and confused joy.

Though, no matter how chaotic a day would become, Senora Guzman could always count on her two children to return home safe and sound.

Either it be Mariano carrying his precious sister in his arms, or Mirabel riding a horse with a snoring Mariano securely, comedically tied down behind her- it didn't matter. Both would be images forever imprinted onto the old woman's mind, and she was once again thankful for little Mira's sudden, literal drop into their lives.

What would it have been like, if she hadn't?

Casita was very, very pleased with her Candelita's growth. Her threadwork was improving, her Gift was developing quite nicely (she can already feel it shifting sources), and she had even started her ascent to becoming the Madrigal Matriarch- she emotionally adopted two people already!

And that's not even mentioning her better social skills and mental state!

(happypridelove)

Ah, they grow up so fast. One moment she's fumbling with a mop handle and the next she's dancing with machetes.

Hmm... Her little Candelita's birthday is almost upon them again (so soon?). And it wouldn't do anymore, for it to be celebrated by two people alone. But her daughter has yet to reveal her identity- though, not for the lack of trust, mind you. Just simply the lack of a proper moment.

Casita checked the state of her magic.

It's stable enough (though, the piece of her in the Lantern feels strange- she'll have to investigate that later); the Flame's not flickering, the cracks small and slow... it's probable.

Casita grinned then, focusing on young Mariano's location.

Time to make a proper moment.

Her daughter won't have to be alone for another birthday anymore, no senor. Not on her watch.

Mariano was panicking.

Did he do it right? Does it look okay? There- that's good right? Wait- is that a strand or- no, that should be darker-

"Mijo," His mother said, amusement in her eyes. "She'll love it." Her hand was a comforting weight on his back.

"She could do better, honestly." Mariano nervously laughed.

"She could," A light tap to his forehead. "But that's not the point now, is it?"

Mariano looked at the door to the sewing room. Then to the calendar. Then back to the door.

"You sure she won't hate it?" He repeated.

"She won't, Mijo."

Seconds ticked by. He inhaled. "Okay."

With only a bit of fumbling, he hid the present behind his back, and knocked on the door.

"Mira?"

"Come in!"

Mariano walked in, eyes instantly drawn to his hermanita's latest work. It was a shawl, dyed different shades of light green in an asymmetric gradient, embroidered with roses of darker emeralds. As always, it was breath taking.

"Hey, Yano! Abuelita!" Mira greeted, smile already putting the almost 14-year-old at ease. She raised the shawl, presenting it in various angles. "What do you think?"

"It's very beautiful, nieta." His mother said, hand reaching over to caress the detailed stitching. "Such threadwork! Who's this for?"

Mira giggled, then with a twirl and a flourish, handed it over to his mama. "Surprise!"

If he wasn't still nervous, Mariano would've laughed at the flabbergasted expression on his mother's face. In the end, he settled for a fond smile.

"For... me?" She asked quietly, grabbing the shawl with a gentleness that should've been reserved for fragile glass. Mariano couldn't blame her. The first professional level stitching Mira had allowed him to handle, he had done the same.

Mira's grin turned a touch bit shy. It was adorable.

"Yeah...um, as thanks? For letting me learn here. For letting me use the sewing room. For the breakfasts and fabrics and -f-fo-for everything. For teaching me." She fiddled with her hands as she anxiously awaited Mama's response. They were probably very sweaty.

Mira didn't need to worry though, Mariano thought as his mama's eyes glistened. The hug that followed between the two certainly confirmed it.

"Oh nieta! Thank you! And it was an honor being your mentor, mi pequena costurera! You were the best student I've ever had! This is beautiful!"

Mariano couldn't help but quip. "She's the only student you've ever had, Mama."

"Even better!"

Mira's laughter was of twinkling bells. There was relief, joy, and- most plentiful -gratitude emanating from her little body as she was spun around and around in his mama's arms, the shawl trailing after her in her grip like ethereal, wispy wings.

That image was what stripped away the last of Mariano's nerves; and so it was with a puff of air that he grinned wide, catching his hermanita's eyes.

"Hey Mira?"

"Heheha- ye-yeah, Yano?"

"You're not the only one with surprises today, you know."

"Huh?" The little seamstress blinked, confused. Mariano's grin got a little bit excited.

"Yep! Last week at training, someone told me something very important. In fact, it was so important I rushed home immediately to do something about it. Do you know why that is?"

Her face should be illegal. It should be against the law to be that cute.

"...No?"

Mariano softened, and with a flourish and a twirl similar to her own just a few minutes ago, presented his gift.

"Happy Birthday, Mira."

A butterfly crown made of yarn, thread, and the softest of fabrics.

His hermanita gasped softly.

Seeing tears, Mariano gently lifted the crown above her head, and placed it upon her curls with the gentleness of the early morning breeze.

Mira's eyes practically sparkled as she looked at her reflection on the mirror mama had prepared. She was beautiful.

"You... made this... for m-me?" She whimpered, echoing the earlier words of her abuelita.

Mariano smiled. "Of course. It's not as good as it could have been, especially if you had done it instead, but... I hope you like it, Mir-oof!"

Who knew the little 7-year-old had such strength?

"Happy birthday, Mira." Mariano repeated as he hugged her back. She was so small, so precious.

Mira's grip was tight. She mumbled something against his shirt.

"Hmm? What was that, hermanita?"

She mumbled it again, a bit louder. He felt something... loosen in his mind. Or- that's not quite the word- perhaps, more accurately, unlOCKeD-WhereDidShECOMEFROMWHO'SFAMILYDOESSHEBELONGTOWHOAREHERPARENTSSHEHASBIGBROWNEYESABIGADORABLENOSESHORTCURLYHAIRSHE'S-

"Mirabel," She looked up at him, afraid, happy, grateful and relieved.

"My name is Mirabel Madrigal. And I love it, hermano, thank you."

(Later, after the revelations, explanations, acceptance and proper celebrations were done, the Lantern Flared- while the Candle Flickered.)

Perspective shift

"Knock knock knock knock knock, knock on wood," Casita's little Seer muttered under his breath, watching the Family breakfast the morning after her daughter's 7th birthday.

A birthday that has, like her 6th, not even been noticed.

"Juli, Gus, what are you doing?" He asked, knowing the answer.

His hands rhythmically tapped against his table, quiet enough to be mistaken for the scuttling of rats. The vibrations accidentally knock off a few wood shavings onto the floor.

"Your Butterfly's flying away," He said somberly, sadly, "The Flame's led her to the Deer in the forest, she's leaving, she's leaving."

His hands sought activity- finding it in the chisel that laid inert near an unfinished, yet still beautifully crafted crown. Clearly a labor of love.

"You're not following, you're not, you're not," He lamented. "You should be right beside her, sharing currents, the sky, but you're not. Everyone does, will, have, though. I Saw. Unfair, unfair to her."

He looked at the ceiling.

"Unfair to you. Why didn't you tell them?" He asked again, also still knowing the answer.

Casita clacked her tiles with him in unison.

"You shouldn't have to," He groaned in acceptance, gently dropping the chisel and switching to ruffle his head of hair. "I know, I know, but, but, but- this is a problem, needs, needs to be addressed."

Casita hummed in bitter, sad amusement; then drummed a few bamboo into a question.

Would they listen?

At that, her Seer looks down, hair in a tight grip of frustration.

"Juli, Pepi- they would, they should, but," He trembled, "We wouldn't be having this talk, if, if they did. Too tight. Too tight. Mama's holding too tight. I'm choking, Casita. We're choking, Casita. My mouse, my mouse, she's not, not yet, but the noose is still there, Casita."

He looked up at the ceiling, this time pleading.

"Can I still follow my mouse, Casita? Can I still call her my mouse, Casita? My vision, my vision. Will she know that I left for her, Casita? My mouse, I miss my mouse, Casita. Am I too late, Casita? Is the rat left to rot, away from his mouse, Casita?"

Casita had only one answer.

His door shook, then glowed bright.

(It's about time for the rat to come home.)

Perspective shift

Mirabel associated her Tio Bruno with the ticks of a sped up clock. His Gift only justified that fact.

He knocks on his wood, he taps his feet, he clacks a finger against his teeth. It's all quirky little rhythmic ti-ti-ti-ti-tap-taps; his own variation of a custom, really. They signal his presence in a room, they allow you a peek into his current train of thought- it was one of the things that Mirabel loved about her Tio.

"Ay, little Mouse, that's not all. You see, she's also his... Cousin!"

"Knock on wood. Just in case. Do salt, too. If nothing else, it'll hit Camaleon in the eyes. That last prank of his was uncalled for. Hmm? Oh, mi pequena nina, tiny, petty acts of revenge are absolutely allowed."

"Do you see this mierda, my little Mouse? Why would my Gift show me the death of a fish? What? No, it's not April 1st, and my Gift is not sentient."

"The key to being a good performer, little mouse, isn't your skill- no no no. It's Confidence and Flair. You can be the best at acting all you want- but if you're not entertaining yourself or your audience, are you really a performer?"

"Ratoncita, I love you, okay? Gift or no Gift. I love you. I love you. Your Tio loves you. You're my mouse. You're special, mi vida. Nobody's just seeing it yet. But while you wait for them to open their eyes, you also gotta do the same. See yourself. You gotta be one of the first to believe. I already do...."

It was one of the things she missed about her Tio.

...she missed her Tio.

It was nice to know he loved her though. Loved her enough to tell her that fact before leaving.

She sometimes wondered what would've happened if he didn't, though. Would he and Mami raise her together? Or, more funnily, would Mami raise them together? Tio had been very mischievous, after all. Sometimes even rivaling Camilo.

...she missed her Tio.

Sighing, Mirabel puts down the shirt she'd been embroidering for herself for the past few weeks, and stretched; the bones in her spine crackling just right. She then rapidly blinked her eyes to quickly get rid of the extra zoom. They went a little teary.

Ugh, she supposes that was the result of being hunched over and squinting over the tiniest details.

"The devil's in the details, little Mouse. It's the details, the subtext, the double entendre; that hit you where it counts."

Ay, Tio.

Gently caressing the little Hourglasses she had added, she wondered where her Tio was now. Maybe he's started a family, maybe he's alone in a forest, maybe he's still on the road.

Or maybe, Mirabel hoped, he's safe and sound- like the broken clock that reminded her of him in Senor Baltasar's living room. Safe and taken care of.

She hummed.

Maybe it's time she added green to her dress. She'd always been a little bit of her Tio's, even after the Ceremony (He told her so; she can still feel phantom fingers ruffling her curls fondly).

Heh. She could already imagine all the 'fights' he and Mami would have over who got to have the most of their color on her.

Knock knock knock knock knock, knock knock knock- plunk.

Mirabel froze.

Tick-tick-tick, tick-tick-tick, tick.

No way.

Tap, ti-ti-tap-tap, tap.

"A pretty little room for a pretty little mouse. But where's the pretty little mouse for the pretty little room?"

Mirabel had never jumped over her railings so fast in all her life.

The next few weeks are spent catching up with each other. Stories upon stories dripped out of their mouths; right into open, eager ears.

But the day they had met again was somehow even longer than that stretch of time- for Bruno, having this as his first direct human to human interaction in the 2 years he spent behind the walls, spilled to Mirabel all he could.

His reason for leaving.

"A vision of you, my precious mouse. Can't tell, can't tell specifics, but you're the catalyst. Save or destroy. Or both. Or none. But you know, you know. Bad luck Bruno. Bad Luck Bruno. Had to leave for you. Couldn't let them know. They'd see you wrong."

His watching of her growth through the walls.

"I saw, and I Saw a lot of you. Proud. Very. Play Pretend with me sometime. I'm, I'm broken a bit, but I still have a little confidence, a little, a little flair, mi preciosa ratoncita. Remember? Remember? Confidence and flair. Also, also, your work, I love it. Casita took care of you good. You're flying high, little butterfly. Could, could this rat ask of his mouse, some of her work? Your magic's warm."

His missing of her two birthdays.

"I hate, hate, that I couldn't give you company. Casita gave you her present, your Gift and Door, and I was happy! Happy for you. But you were also alone. And I was right there. Also your 7th. Not alone anymore. The Deer, they took you in, you took them too. They follow you. Happy, but also sad. I wanted to follow you too. Wanted to follow you so much. Even if only behind walls. But you were far. Couldn't reach you anymore. Asked Casita if I could still follow you. Still worthy, somehow, in her eyes, that she allowed me here. Am I still worthy of you to you though, my little mouse? Am I your rat still? Here, here, your gifts. I made you still. Even with the chance we would never meet. Thought that counts, they say. But, we met. So here, gifts. I love you."

And all throughout this, there were lots of tears. And hugs. And more tears. And more hugs. In fact, one hug lasted so long they both fell asleep in Mirabel's couch, the little girl right on top of her uncle.

(It was a sight Casita had outright demanded of Mirabel's butterflies to immortalise on photo. They were all too happy to comply.)

Ever since then, the two had been attached at the hip, eager to make up for their 2 year separation. Mirabel had informed her brother and grandmother that she had something important to take care of for a while in advance, and thus she was free to dive straight into work.

The first thing she had noticed the moment she was emotionally stable enough to had been her uncle's unruly hair, and so that was what she began the recovery and catching up weeks with.

She cut his hair (having learned how on a whim after seeing her abuelita doing it to Mariano) short and clean, helped him shave his beard to a more tasteful state, then later awed at his uncanny resemblance to Abuelo Pedro.

"Huh," Tio Bruno had whispered, almost reverently, as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, "I, I... I think I'll keep this, this look. I'll keep it, Ratoncita."

Next, Mirabel set to make her precious Tio a proper set of clothes. No more too long Ruana, no more same, drab color shirt and pants, and no more of said shirt and pants being way too loose and baggy. No more; not under her watch.

The outfit she eventually settled on was a vest with back tails, a shirt with medium-length arms, slightly form-fitting pants, formal shoes, and a fancy cloak.

All appropriately colored in matching shades of his green, of course.

(And laden to high heaven with protective and locator threads. She's not loosing him again.)

"Confidence," Her uncle had said, awed, as he slowly turned around in front of the mirror; eyes sometimes lingering on the elaborate stitching. Then he suddenly grabbed an edge of his cloak and twisted to strike a sweeping pose, "and Flair."

His grin was wide, a little mad.

"Oh, my creative little mouse. You spoil me sometimes."

And finally, the hard part: helping his body and mind heal from his time in the walls.

Here, Mirabel had asked her Mami for help (she knew enough to know that she can't do it all on her own- she's still a 7-year-old, after all. Raised by a non-human magical entity yes, but a 7-year-old nonetheless), and the entity had been all too happy to oblige.

They began small.

Mirabel sleeping with her Tio at appropriate times in his part of her Room (that she made immediately after learning he's been in the walls) to force him into a healthy sleep schedule as well as help curb his insomnia with company, Casita helping her daughter cook a full meal for every eating time of the day, Mirabel practicing her parkour with her Tio around to force him to learn with her (and thus have exercise) just so he could keep an eye on her better, etc, etc.

Those little manipulations stacked up quite nicely in the 4 months it occurred in, excitingly leading to her Tio having built himself a lean, strong, and agile healthy body. In fact, amazingly, about 5 weeks in, when Mirabel left for her weekly visit to her brother and grandmother, her mother had happily reported that her Tio had set to practice parkour without her presence. It was great news; he was gaining confidence, he was getting better!

Mirabel was proud of her Tio, if you couldn't tell.

And she became even more proud at what happened 3 weeks later: her Tio asking to meet the Guzmans!

"You trust them enough to reveal your identity, little mouse," idly, Mirabel cheered at his recovering speech, "and I trust you and your mother. Besides; I want to meet the family that, that, treated you well. I want to meet your suns. Casita, she's your soil, your shade. I want to meet the people who made you bloom."

Mirabel could barely hold off on just dragging her Tio straight to La Casa Guzman after that little declaration. Could you blame her for being excited at the prospect that her little family (not her bigger one was she still a part of it even?) was becoming one member bigger?

Luckily, her mother set her straight (amusedly), and so that night, she went by 'herself' only- for hopefully the last time -to prepare and explain what might occur in the next few days.

Her hermano and her Tio got along like a house on fire (no offense to her Mami).

With one a poet and one a performer/writer (he had to be, with those brilliant telenovelas Mirabel could remember being shown to her before he 'left'), was there ever any doubt?

Their bond had even grown in the same room Mirabel's had with the two Guzmans; in the sewing room of the house (Mirabel found that fact very amusing and awesome).

With Tio freed from the usual tasks that came with trying to survive in the walls of a sentient building by being her Roommate, suddenly there was a lot of Free time in his daily routine. Free time that he immediately spent by sitting with his niece's embroidery classes; at first to also learn, but then slowly devolving to what was essentially competitively making a novel on the spot: excitedly spewing storylines, dialogue trees, character backstories and plot-points with said niece's hermano.

Their growing connection was a sound Mirabel and her Abuelita had quickly found to be the perfect background noise to their sewing; the strands of stories their ears catch as they fade in and out of the zone very captivating, her mother's reactionary clicks and clacks of boards and tiles a varied but charming melody.

Though, personally, the little Madrigal girl found it the best when all 5 were interacting. The chaos created by a family in sync was something she could never get enough of (something she wished for with her bigger fam with the rest of her fam La Familia Madrigal).

It all came to a head though, when 3 months after the initial meeting, Abuelita suggested that Tio Bruno finally go out in public- under a disguise, of course, maybe something like Mirabel's Glamour Ruana except preferably without the accidental mind-screwing (sorry, hermano) -to show off his amazing and often enrapturing plotlines, and the man in question lit up with the younger one right behind him.

"Your stories are too big to have just our little family of five as an audience to enjoy them, Brunieto," Abuelita had cooed, "Besides, the Encanto could use a little excitement, what with all the peace. I believe your 'Quién soy yo para ti' series, especially Season 4 episode 27, would do that quite nicely. Bet you; people will be theorizing about it for days. I still am!" She chuckled.

The look that the two literary-leaning creative males had shared after the suggestion made Mirabel instantly, happily, know that this was it- this was the point of no return.

Mariano's little squeal of "Dios mio, Tio, if we're really doing this, you have to include-" only served to fuel her sudden burst of joy.

(The Lantern Flares, Bright and Fiery.)

Her Tio was now officially part of her little family, and he didn't even notice! Ha! Exactly like she had before!

(The freakout he was going to have the moment he does realize will be a moment Mirabel awaits with baited breath and a tub of popcorn.)

Oh, Mirabel was so happy, she was practically buzzing with energy. Actually, maybe she was! She was warm and all tingly all over! (There's a sheet of electricity right under her skin- it's comforting, it's empowering, it's- it's Magic.)

The fact that they were also going to have their first ever Family project soon (she could hear the word 'costumes' and knew it was gonna be hers and Abuelita's job) was just the delicious cherry on top!

(The Candle Flickers, Sputters, Fragmented. Someone looks on with sadness, worry- and maybe a little bit of disappointment. Someone finds the Lantern's brightness bittersweet.)

Casita, while happy at the fact that a Madrigal finally followed the rightful Matriarch, winces as one of the larger cracks in her walls made up for the healing littler ones by deepening. It's hot, it's searing- it's a knife, it's a claw, it's raking it hurts it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurtsdamnyouAlma and it's all she could do to keep her precious Candelita from knowing, noticing. It's too early. There's... There's nothing her Little Miracle could do; not yet at least. Casita screams yelps shouts whimpers groans in pain.

Bear it for her.

Do it for her.

Casita loves them, despite all. Her daughter though especially. So, she Stands. She Stands for them. She Stands a little more for Her. She'll Stand until she cannot anymore.

(It helps though, when her daughter smiles. When her daughter laughs. When her daughter is Bright. Because she knows she's the root cause. Because she knows she made that happen. Because she knows she allowed that to happen. She's raising her right, if nothing else.)

(If she was going to Fail, let it not be at being a Mother.)

------

(Reblog for Part 4! Hope you enjoyed this! I made it extra long to make up for the gap of writing silence. Also, Bruno's here! A Madrigal finally joined Casita's chosen Matriarchal Heir!)

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mr-stendahl · 3 years ago

Text

Housekid AU Part 2

Part 1 here

Idea: Casita raises Mirabel

Mirabel is now 6 years old, it's 2 am in the morning, there's a note on her bedside table, and the Nursery Door is glowing.

Mirabel had never fully awakened so fast in all her life.

Hastily, she grabbed her glasses and examined the glowing golden letter.

Mi velita preciosa,

Happy Birthday. You are still too young to know the reason why I didn't give you a Gift on your anointed day, but know and believe that it is no fault of yours. You are special, mi vida, Gift or no Gift. You will do great things, with or without one.

But, times are changing. You need a Gift, mi pequena vela. Not because you aren't capable enough on your own- do you remember last week, when you saved yourself from that fall? You achieved the impossible that day: give a magical house a heart attack -

Mirabel giggled through sniffles.

But because it would help you. Increase your odds. You would do just fine without one, more so when you're older, but it would make me feel better. That my magic is always with you. And, let's be honest, you deserve one too. You deserve a Gift, mi vida. And a room of your own.

I am sorry, Candelita, that your Door arrived late. It is because despite not getting a Gift on your Day, I did still give you something. Do you feel that warm buzz under your skin? Do you feel that tingle of comfort? Do you feel that lively energy? That's my magic, mija. I gave you a lot, and I had to recover before giving you a Door.

And it's time. I've recovered.

One last thing though. Don't tell anyone yet. I have much to explain to you first, Candelita. But that will have to come later. It's your special day, after all.

So go on.

Open your Door.

Receive your Gift.

You deserve it.

Happy Birthday, mi vida. I love you.

Blinking the tears out of her eyes, Mirabel hugged the letter tightly. The amount of love she had for the entity possessing her house was indescribable. When was the last time her human mother made her feel this way?

Eventually though, she got off from her bed, and marched up to the glowing Door.

This time, her gait wasn't nervous.

This time, she wasn't alone.

This time, the Door didn't disappear.

This time, it Opened.

Mirabel's Room was a more a small house than a room. It had two floors, a big atrium, and a very peculiar design- half of the rooms were walled in, while half (still segmented) were open air. There was a small kitchen, a dining room, a bathroom, a sewing and weaving room, a library, a music room, a training room, and even a small garden.

Oh and also, there were a lot of golden butterflies.

Who turned out to be Mirabel's little helpers; flitting about, keeping the place clean, fetching whatever thing she wanted at the moment or assisting the little girl on whatever project she was working on. Mirabel quickly adopted the swarm, and spent the better half of her birthday exploring her Room (her room! her very own room!).

Then she remembered her mother also gave her a Gift, and there was very little the butterflies could do to keep from laughing at her panicked/excited realization.

Mirabel's Gift is basically Rune Magic but through thread. She can give a piece of clothing whatever effect she wants just by sewing the idea/concept onto the thing. The more complicated the effect, the more elaborate the stitching's gotta be. The effect turns on when needed or when worn. It's also self-sufficient, leaching off of the magic in the air, but it can be overwhelmed or weakened enough to the point of being dispelled. To prevent this, the wearer has to take good care of the cloth and thread; if Mirabel cared for them enough to sew the very concept of protection onto their clothing, then they should care for her enough by treasuring her work. If they didn't, then the effect is temporary and will eventually fade away.

(Mirabel learns this through trial and error, her magic giving her just enough nudges to realization via feelings. It was a fun learning experience- one Casita was very happy and proud to witness.)

Mirabel's absence from the Nursery was never noticed. Her constant scrapes and bandages and band-aids (because Casita wanted her daughter's body to learn how to heal the normal way) and bruises and wounds were never noticed. Her discarding her blue skirt for a white one that was beginning to be filled to the brim with colorful threads humming with magic was never noticed. Her not being in any photo post-ceremony was never noticed. Her not being at breakfast every morning was never noticed.

(incredulitybetrayalresignationanger)

Well, fine. Casita could care less- she had other things to worry about. Mainly that her daughter was growing up and she shouldn't be confined in her walls for much longer. She had to have some outside experience. She can't bloom without the sun.

But... Casita is worried.

Her daughter was capable, yes, but she only trained her for a year! Even with her Gift! And she was 6! Isn't that young, still? And Casita; she heard all the talk, the whispers. About the Family 'Failure'. The 'Giftless Madrigal'. Her daughter was responsible, scrappy, bright- but she was still a child. And while Casita's whole form was technically the whole of Encanto, with the rest of her Magic occupied with the Gifts, the Doors, the glamour and precautions of the place; she could only manipulate the House.

She couldn't be there for her preciosa hija.

And Casita didn't like that.

Not knowing what to do, she confided in her darling Candelita. Told her how she wanted her to expand her horizons, how her walls shouldn't become her cell, how she should bloom, shine, outside of her Family's shadow. Told her how she was worried, that she would get in trouble and she couldn't reach. Told her, because maybe with two brains they can figure it out.

And Little Mirabel didn't disappoint.

"Mami, your Spirit is the Candle, no?" She had hummed, while practicing her stitches, "Could you reach out more if you had another? Like a... Candelabra- no, that's too big -oh! Like a Lantern! I could bring it around and you could come with me!" Her smile was impossibly bright.

"Would that work, Mami?"

Well now, Casita clinked around a few tiles in excitement and pride (at her pequeña vela brillante, obviously), things just got a lot more interesting.

It worked. Casita separated off a part of herself and attached it to her daughter's spirit to keep it alive, and behold, a tiny Miracle held by her Little Miracle (amusementamazementawepride).

It was easy enough getting one of the few hand-held Lanterns from the kitchen, and it was doubly so climbing up the roof and lighting it with the Main Candle before booking it to her Room.

The Lantern did not double Casita's strength, nor did it weaken the majority of her in the House. It was simply a window she could reach out from, and with Mirabel tugging it around, she essentially now had infinite but also limited reach.

Perfect.

They trained with the Lantern during the night, slipping into the part of the forest behind the House. With Dolores safe in her soundproofed room, the two could do whatever experiments they wished to their hearts' content.

Casita practiced manipulating the objects within the Lantern's radius as if they were part of the house. She tried it with Mirabel standing still, holding the Lantern aloft. She tried it with Mirabel lightly walking. She tried it with Mirabel running her fastest, Lantern now attached to her makeshift hip-belt. She had to make sure she mastered this moving influence of hers. She couldn't let her daughter be hurt.

(Though, she did let herself have a bit of mischief. She played with her daughter whenever frustration reached a boiling point, she relished in being able to interact with things other than those in the House, she loved being able to see all these new sights with her little Miracle. Her Spirit was strong, their bond was tight, and they were happy.)

Mirabel, meanwhile, practised moving and thinking in sync with her mother. Predict which object she'll ready to catch her with and jump. Predict which object she'll extend and grab. The trusting part was easy. She loved her mother. The execution? Yeah, she might've worn more band-aids than usual for the following few weeks (Though it's not like anybody would notice).

But it was fun.

And that's all that mattered.

The first real test of Mirabel going out on her 'own' was when both realized that if they wanted to get the most of her Gift, she had to have proper sewing, embroidery and maybe even weaving lessons. One could only make so much butterflies, after all.

So Mirabel put on her- very messy but colorful with all the threads of protection and glamour magic that Casita gently demanded her to put -white, self-sewn (from random scraps) ruana, put the Lantern in her also very messy self-knitted bag, and ventured out into the town a few minutes after her The Familia.

She took to the rooves, flitting about like a butterfly, hiding from the people and her family members as her mother led her to one of the few seamstresses in town that did not gossip about the 'Giftless Madrigal' during communal weaving.

Senora Guzman.

(Mirabel didn't mean to greet the Senora by hanging upside down from her roof to her window, but hey, turns out Kuya Mariano has good aim! Maybe he can teach her knife-throwing too!)

Perspective shift

Mariano did not think that a strange 6-year-old child who he almost brained with a knife would quickly become one of his bestest friends, but a strange 6-year-old child who he almost brained with a knife did quickly become one of his bestest friends.

Mira was a joy to be around.

Everyday, ever since his mama accepted Mira as her apprentice in everything involving the thread and needle, La Casa Guzman has been... alive. When before it was all comforting lulls with sprinkles of excitement, now it was the exact opposite.

Every morning, Mira's knocking on his second story window would rouse both he and his mother from bed. Then she and his mama would prepare breakfast, while he readied all the materials for the day's lesson. After that, they'd gather in the kitchen- where they'd talk about their days separated from each other (which was almost never now) or recall funny moments from the previous day; sometimes, they'll even have reviews on what types of stitching Mira had learned. Then they'd clean up the kitchen, make sure their schedules are clear, and march straight to the sewing room.

There (almost always), they manage to have one complete, straight lesson- before the sense of structure and schedule falls apart like dry grass in a forest fire.

Usually, it was because of Mira.

Mira initiating a tickle fight during break, Mira initiating a contest during a simple part of the lesson, Mira showing off, Mira messing up and picking on herself good-naturedly, Mira demonstrating new skills that always gave them heart attacks, Mira, Mira, Mira.

And Mariano would swear to his Papa's soul that his Mama had the brightest smile during these moments (mirroring his own).

It was like, Mira was a tiny little, hyperactive candle; unassuming, weird both belonging and out of place, but somehow the brightest of the bunch. And they were the room that had the privilege of being lit up by this wonderful, mysterious 6-year-old girl that he almost brained with a knife.

Huh...

Act- A C T- Act

Actually, where did Mira come from? What family does she belong to? She has to have amazing parents, considering how incredible she is. He doesn't recognize her face, though. But he should. He's Mariano Guzman! His mother was Council Member! But, no matter how hard he tried, he can't place Mira's face. Though, even if he wasn't a Guzman, Encanto was a close town. It should be easy right? Mira's most prominent features were her adorable, brown eyes, and her lovely big nose! In fact, now that he thought about it, she looks just like a Madrigal!

Just like

a Ma

Wait, does that m e an

s he

ira

b e l

Mad

Mariano blinked.

No, Mira had (bluegreenbrownhazelambersapphireemeraldblack) eyes and an adorable (bigsmallmedium) nose and a head of (shortlongmedium) (curlystraightmessy) hair andandandandandandandand an d a n d a n d a

a n

Mariano shook his head. What's he doing here, just standing? Mira and Mama are waiting for him. He can't let them down.

(Reblog for part 3 if you want more of Housekid AU!)

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mr-stendahl · 4 years ago

Text

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

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mr-stendahl · 5 years ago

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Ok but legit question-you really think they’re gonna try and do better once in office? You really think once in power they’ll do something Yea those are the rules and have been the rules for decades-because we have been playing the whole “lesser evil” is better for sooo long.

How much longer do we have to vote for someone who is “less” evil in hopes they will change when they reach the office? How much longer do we have to put up with all these broken promises? How much longer do we keep playing this game in the hopes that maybe, just maybe they’ll finally listen when we know they’ll promise us anything to get elected and the do jack shit about it?

Honestly I think part of the reason we are where we are politically-part of the reason-is that we keep voting for the lesser evil when the lesser evil is still...well evil.

Get to know Kamala Harris

Pushed a law that forces schools to turn undocumented students over to ICE, separating them from their parents and violating human rights

Laughed about putting parents in jail if their kids missed school, disproportionately harming single parent households, the poor, and families of color like this one, including homeless mothers

Her office refused to address what the Supreme Court calls “unconstitutionally overcrowded” prisons specifically to perpetuate the exploitation of the mass incarcerated for slave labor close to $1/hour(she later claimed she didn’t know her own lawyers argued this.

Declined to prosecute Steven Mnuchin after his bank’s predatory lending and foreclosure fraud broke the law “over a thousand” times and ruined the lives of thousands of homeowners, keeping him free to donate to her campaign and become Trump’s Treasury Secretary

Spent years jailing disproportionately black nonviolent cannabis users while opposing taking cannabis off DEA’s list of most dangerous substances and literally laughing at the idea of legalizing it multiple times, even as her Republican opponent ran to the left of her on the issue. She then tried to pander by admitting to smoking herself despite prosecuting others, but got her story all wrong, and even offended her own Jamaican family to the point they’ve disassociated with her

Used a technicality to stop the release of a man serving 27 years-to-life after being wrongfully convicted of possession of a knife under the three-strikes law she supported. When civil rights groups and nearly 100,000 petition signatures got him released after 14 years she took him back to court again for a crime he didn’t commit

Opposed reforming California’s three-strikes law, which is the only one in the country to impose life sentences for minor felonies and incarcerates black people at 12x the rate as white people, three different times, even while her Republican opponent supported reform

Appealed a judge ruling that the death penalty was unconstitutional and won on a technicality, resulting in continued executions

When evidence pointed towards a black defendant being framed by police, Harris avoided DNA testing to keep him on death row

Protected serial child rapists by refusing to prosecute in the Catholic Church sex abuse scandal

Lied about her state’s solitary confinement to block a suit by inmates, claiming there was none in California when there were about 6,400 victims of the practice, which is considered torture

Oversaw a state prosecutor falsifying a confession to get a life sentence and then destroyed the evidence, upheld a conviction secured by a prosecutor lying under oath, and oversaw the framing of another man

Opposed legislation that would require independent investigation of fatal police shootings despite criticism from many civil rights advocates including California’s Legislative Black Caucus

Opposed statewide implementation of police body cameras and ignored police brutality, multiple officers raping a teenager, and other officers sharing racist and homophobic messages, despite multiple requests from the public defender

Refused to hand over the names of police whose testimonies led to convictions despite the officers’ arrest records and past misconduct

Tried to deny a transgender inmate healthcare and endangered trans women by forcing them into mens prisons, leading to the rape and torture of at least one trans inmate

Stood by silently as $730 million was spent on moving inmates to for-profit private prisons

Delayed the confiscation of illegal firearms from dangerous people, then posed a “continued risk to public safety” by failing to implement changes state auditors recommended to fix this despite receiving $24 million specifically for this purpose

Voted two different times to block federal funding for abortions

Following the foreclosure fraud scandal she negotiated a deal great for banks but bad for the ruined homeowners, becoming one of Wall Street’s favorite candidates to fundraise for

Voted to give Trump increased military spending two different times.

Supports Trump escalating war in Syria

Co-sponsored the bill that let Trump impose sanctions on Iran which violated the nuclear deal and lead to the currently rising tensions

“Systematically violated defendants’ civil and constitutional rights” in crime lab scandal

Kept her Orange County DA office from being charged for running an unconstitutional jailhouse informant program they tried to cover up.

Oversaw San Francisco’s felony conviction rate rising from 52% to 67% in only 3 years

As part of her tough on crime approach she assigned senior prosecutors to misdemeanors like graffiti and vandalism, tripling the number of cases brought to trial

Mocks the activist call to “build more schools, less jails”

Supports collecting and keeping DNA from people even if they’ve not been charged with a crime

Defended the discriminatory practice of cash bail in court as recently as June 2016

Supports Israel’s right-wing government and cozies up to AIPAC, co-sponsored resolution against Obama in support of illegal settlements, does not support Palestinian rights, and calls BDS “anti-semitic”

Claimed to be unaware of sexual harassment and retaliation by her top aide over a 6 year span

Sponsored a bill allowing for prosecutors to seize profits before charges are even filed and opposed a bill that would reform civil asset forfeiture

Defended a prison’s religious discrimination in hiring policy

Opposed calls to tear down 700 miles of existing border wall/fence

Fought to limit amount of land indigenous tribes could place in trust and tried to take reservation land away from a tribe just to keep them from evicting a non-indigenous man who had lived there without paying rent for 24 years

Is a latecomer in endorsing Medicare for All and already appears to be backtracking on multiple aspects of it

Refused to review a case in which a pharmaceutical CEO killed his wife but made it look like a suicide after their son died under mysterious circumstances as well

Refused to prosecute PG&E for its massive gas pipeline explosion and now its consultants are running her campaign

Did not properly investigate the San Onofre scandal to protect her political allies.

Refused to investigate Herbalife’s exploitation and fraud, receiving donations from people connected to the corporation

Her associate operated a fake police force but somehow all charges were dismissed

Refuses to support AB5 to give gig workers like rideshare drivers basic employee rights (her brother-in-law & niece are high-up in Uber)

Opposed legalization of sex work, endangered sex workers, and oversaw people being charged for prostitution without even agreeing to sex

Endangered the public by supporting legislation that increased the homeless sex offender population 24x in 3 years, then appealed a court’s ruling that it was unconstitutional. Her Republican opponent ran to the left of her on this issue

Accepted thousands of dollars of campaign funds from Donald and Ivanka Trump multiple times

Accepts donations from prominent charter school pusher and billionaire Reed Hastings

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