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xvysarene · 23 days

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader Prompt: "No, you can't stay here." Words: ~1.1k Genre: Angst, No Comfort Notice: Some spoiler of Xavier's Myth, Shooting Stars, although not entirely aligned

He staggered back, clearly surprised by how your muttered words reverberated loudly in the otherwise dimly lit room. Cerulean orbs searched for yours skilfully, eyes bright as they were when tracking Wanderers in the darkest of nights.

"What did you say?" A hint of disbelief was palpable in Xavier's voice.

You stepped away from the shadow, hands trembling as you struggled to steady them. Despite anticipating this moment, when confronted with reality, you found yourself questioning whether you could truly accept your sacrifice without harboring any regrets.

"I said, no, you can't stay here."

Revelation dawned on him. Despite Xavier’s frequent drowsiness, he remained inherently sharp. It was one of the attributes that had made him a highly respected hunter.

"How long have you known?"

"Enough time to understand the over-complicated truth."

Irritation briefly flickered in his eyes. He looked at the thinning veil behind him, clearly cursing the other party that stepped through it earlier. "Jeremiah told you.”

“I was the one who convinced Jeremiah to tell me everything. You shouldn’t kick his ass when you see him again.”

Xavier couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at that. Jeremiah, though physically not imposing, could defeat anyone on mind games. That’s why he brought him along on the mission as he needed a logical partner.

He couldn’t comprehend why Jeremiah had agreed to divulge the secrets they swore to keep between themselves—especially to the one person he had hoped would never uncover the truth.

“Besides, you’re not as secretive as you thought, Xav.” You gave him a small, sad smile. “I guess that's what makes us human, right? Despite not being a normal one, having an aether core-fused heart, or having lived for a hundred years, we still can’t stop ourselves from showing our deepest desires during moments of vulnerability. I used to believe that she was your unforgettable first love or perhaps an ex who taught you a crucial life lesson. However, that’s just me shying away from the undeniable.”

As much as you had steeled yourself for this moment, your vision began to blur, and Xavier was fast to engulf you in his hug. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his lithe but muscular figure, feeling his warmth and further breaking your heart.

He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath to blanket himself in your scent like he always did.

“That’s not true,” his voice came out shakier than he intended.

“But it is, Xavier. You don’t know how many times you called out to her in your sleep. Or sometimes when you look at me, I can tell that you don't truly see me for who I am in this current existence. You can’t deny this, because in doing so, you’re also hurting her…me.”

You had to force your head up to fully face your light. Xavier wouldn’t let you step away from him.

Gently cupping his cheeks, you urged him to focus on your next words. “Face it, Xav. Your queen and I… our resemblances are solely physical. We’re two entirely different persons, made up of distinct personalities. If she was the reason why you were in this timeline in the first place, you cling to the hope of going back to her one day, don’t you? You wouldn’t abandon her eternity, right?”

His hug tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said after some time, head bowed in shame. “I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, deeply sorry for making you feel less than your worth.”

Despite his painful acknowledgment, you found yourself relaxing, accepting your fate. Xavier's thumbs gently wiped away the tears that had escaped from your eyes.

“But you’re going to be here all alone,” his voice cracked, almond eyes cloudy. “I can’t go back and live peacefully knowing that.”

“If what Jeremiah told me is the truth, I have left you more than once. It’s your time to experience having someone be there when you’re back. This is the time to redeem myself, even when the timeline has gone haywire.”

Xavier shook his head furiously. “We won’t know if the alternative aether core would work. If I go back and learn that I will lose you again and Philos, I would rather stay here with you in the past.”

“You know it will work, that’s why you were so insistent on sending Jeremiah back alone with it, and selfishly waiting at the other end just to make sure it disappears, an indicator that Philos has accepted the aether-core. You know how much Jeremiah wants to go back there, and for everything he has done for you, you believed it was your turn to help him. I can’t take you away from her; it’s not right. It’s not my time to have you.”

“What difference does it make when I’m also willingly leaving you here? You understand that once I step through that veil, we’ll never meet each other again in this timeline.”

As if aware of its existence, the veil dimmed. You eyed it wearily, realizing that the swirling vortex of electric blue and silver had turned almost transparent.

"Xavier,” you sighed when he cupped your hand, reveling at the contact, “we both know that my time in this realm will end, I can’t be immortal here. I would rather face the certainty of our eternal bond in another dimension than linger in the fleeting confines of this world.”

You placed your fingers against his lips, silencing his upcoming argument. “You do realize that if you abandoned me in the future, I would despise you, don't you?" you made a playful comment to lighten the mood, but he was miserable. Filled with guilt and disappointment that he couldn’t control the situation.

You guided his head down to meet your lips halfway. As both of your lips touched in a bittersweet embrace, a silent farewell woven into each tender touch. The palm pressed against his heart felt its rapid beats.

“Goodbye, my light. Be happy,” you whispered those words to his lips.

Xavier should have known that whenever you were around, his caution melted away. That was his greatest weakness. He registered the force that caught him entirely off guard a second too late.

Xavier reached out his hand, losing momentum. “Y/N! Wait—!” he called out, voice tinged with urgency.

As his body was hurled into the closing veil, it snapped shut, swallowing his unfinished words. Sobs wracked your body, each wave of emotion sent your body crashing to the wooden floor.

Moonlight peeking through the windows cast its glow upon the intricate gold of the gigantic frame before you.

Where the veil had shimmered moments before, there was now only emptiness, revealing a cold cement wall that stood as a cruel reminder of the end of a chapter you could never revisit.

While seemingly nearly empty every night, a profound silence enveloped Philo Flower Store differently. Vibrant blooms began to wilt, their once lively hues fading into desolation, while the lush vines that once cascaded down nearby buildings now curled and browned.

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #xavier #xavier x reader #xavier x y/n #xavier x you #angst #hurt/no comfort

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infernothechaosgod · 5 months

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Nickelodeon : mmmm so yeah, the rottmnt series will be cut short despite all the good plotlines being set up, yeah people must have really hated it because no one was buying any merch and toys and it just didn't make enough money It must have been the series fault not ours, the toys were right there and just no one wanted em

And those are the toys in question

We truly do live in the darkest timeline

Also I find it very funny how Rottmnt has been on hiatus for like a year now if not longer but fandom just keeps going people are just thriving after so long You truly love to see that

Can't wait for the fan made season 3 Fr

#rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #Rottmnt toys #tmnt 2018 #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt fandom #rottmnt season 3 #nickelodeon

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t4tails · 26 days

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cis, straight and born to hate. Truly we live in the darkest timeline 💀 (Happy April Fools!)

my name is miles tails prower and i think wearing glasses is kind of gay

#og post #ask #mathewryf #april fools #<- in character tag for today #just like last year

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alwaysbewoke · 5 months

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we are truly living in the darkest timeline cause WTF?!?!?

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mischiefandmedicine · 18 days

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Very Full - Chapter 11: Asgardian Lullaby for Saoirse

Summary: Loki recounts a tender moment between him and baby Saoirse.

Word Count: 2,437 words.

Chapter Warnings: Kinda fluffy, kinda angsty.

Soundtrack Link

Very Full MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter

A/N: Please don't hate me for taking a chapter to grow Saoirse's angst a bit rather than going on about what is going on with Melara. Just a little liberty with the storytelling.

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

The ethereal quietude draped the end of time as Saoirse perched upon the armchair conjured by her father, her eyes reflecting the ancient light of distant galaxies. Loki had quieted once he recalled the weakness Melara had displayed, his gaze reaching across the expanse of existence. Their surroundings pulsed with the echoes of cosmic symphonies like a living museum of time that flowed around them.

“I never knew that she struggled so deeply and so early on,” Saoirse’s voice broke the celestial silence, her words hanging like a mist. “Her songs…they always seemed so full of life. So full of strength. She always seemed…okay…at least for a while.”

Loki, with the faintest of smiles, turned towards the strands of timelines hanging behind him, seemingly looking up at his throne as if it had the words he sought. “Your mother’s resilience is the melody of her soul, one that even the stars have whispered about. Her music…it was more than sound and silence. It was her essence…her vitality.”

With a puzzled look, Saoirse leaned towards Loki, “What does that even mean?”

Loki regarded Saoirse with an expression of reminiscence and sorrow. “To understand your mother, you must look beyond what is heard. Each note she sang was infused with her spirit; her songs were like the air her lungs craved. In her music, she found a sanctuary, a place where her strength could flourish, even when the shadows crept into her life.”

He paused, his fingers brushing against the fabric of reality as if to coax forth a melody from the very ether. “When you know Melara as I have, you will see that her struggles never dampened her…fire…Instead, they fueled it, giving rise to the powerful music that enchanted the hearts of those who listened.”

Saoirse’s brow furrowed. “But…,” she trailed off, the words catching in her throat.

Loki leaned closer, his form casting a sudden green glow. “The Melara you knew – the star that shined brightly on every stage – was the truest part of her. The weakness, the trials…they were but fleeting shadows. Her music? That is what endures. That is what defines her.”

He reached out, placing a hand on Saoirse’s shoulder, “And you…carry that same light within you. Her strength, her resilience – they live on in the very core of your being.”

Saoirse sat back, shrugging off her father’s touch yet absorbing his words, a mix of emotions playing across her face. “Then why does it feel like I’m only now discovering who she truly was?” Her voice was a whisper, yet it carried the uncertainty and her longing to connect with the mother she thought she knew.

Loki’s smile returned, tinged with the wisdom of ages. “You came here seeking the truth and I gave it to you. Understanding the essence of a person is like unraveling an infinite melody. You must come prepared to hear the lighter keys and the darker ones if you seek the truth. And sometimes, it is in the quietest and the darkest of notes that we find the greatest truths.”

Saoirse’s eyes hardened, the celestial reflection in them flickering like the flames of a star about to supernova. “Cryptic words and riddles, Loki,” she snapped, her father’s name laced with a biting edge. “I’ve traveled here for answers, not to be shrouded in more mystery. You speak of truth, but cloak it in enigma!”

Loki’s gaze did not falter; it held the calm of the cosmos and the storm of knowledge yet to be shared. “It is not my intention to vex you, daughter. The truths of the heart and the soul are complex. They cannot always be delivered simply.”

“Enough,” Saoirse cut in sharply, standing up so swiftly that the armchair dissolved into stardust behind her. “I am tired of chasing shadows. You say her music is her resilience, her vitality. But where was that vitality when she lay weak, when her light dimmed? You speak as if you were there but I don’t remember your voice in the night, only hers. I remember the songs she sang to me, the strength she wrapped me in. Not yours!”

Loki’s countenance, usually a mask of composure, faltered slightly. “My absence is my regret,” he admitted, “but know this – every note Melara ever sang, I felt as if it was I who breathed them to her. I was absent in form, but never in spirit. Your mother and I…we are bound by a song that transcends realms, a duet that even I cannot fully comprehend.”

Saoirse’s stance was defiant, her voice rising as she clenched her fists standing over Loki. “You speak of duets, yet I’ve only ever known the solo. Her solo. If you were there in any form, why does it feel like a piece of my history is missing?”

A flicker of green light danced across Loki’s eyes, betraying a hint of his own frustration. “Because, Saoirse, there are melodies amongst the strands of time that are meant to be felt, not heard. I am the god of mischief, of stories, but also of unspoken truths. I was there in the whisper of the wind, in the protective circle that music cast around you, in every lullaby.”

For a brief moment, Saoirse’s anger seemed to wane, replaced by an aching confusion that echoed a longing for her mother’s comfort. “If you were there, then why-“

“Because some truths,” Loki interjected, the green in his eyes now a soft glow, “are too heavy for young shoulders. I could only watch and hope that one day you would understand. The sacrifices…”

In the silence that followed, the distance between them was palpable. Saoirse, a daughter caught between realms, between the love for her mother and the rage against her father, stood at the precipice of understanding. Loki, the god shrouded in immortality and enigma, sought a bridge across the chasm of years apart and silence.

“You claim to be a god,” Saoirse’s voice had softened, but the sternness remained. “Yet you hide behind the veil of your duty to the multiverse. If you were there, show me. Show me the truth of all that time.”

Blinking with an eerie sense of calm Loki answered with a question. “Do you recall, daughter, the lullaby I used to sing to you?” Loki’s voice, a soft murmur, was delicate as it played against the cosmic orchestra behind him.

Saoirse’s eyes, hardened once more, like forged steel, she did not waver. “I remember a lullaby, yes,” she retorted sharply. “She sang to me every night when I was little, but what does that have to do with anything?”

Loki, unfazed, continued, “It was an olden tune, steeped in Asgard’s heritage, long lost by the time you were born. It was a charm of protection I bestowed upon you.”

Saoirse bristled, her voice rising like a tempest. “Stop. I know the songs of my mother, not the fairytales of a father who claims moments he never lived.”

With an arched eyebrow and a sly grin, Loki looked up at Saoirse. “So, you do acknowledge that I am your father?”

Before Saoirse could respond, Loki extended his arm, and with a flick of the wrist replaced the chair that had been disintegrated in her anger. With another wave of his hand, Loki used his magic to push Saoirse back into the chair, eliciting an angry huff. Undeterred by her frustration, Loki hummed the melody of a compellingly beautiful tune, piercing the silence between them.

“That song,” Saoirse breathed, a storm of emotions clouding her face. “That’s what she sang to me.”

Loki’s smile was a saddened crescent in the starlight. “No, it was I who first sang it to you, here on the throne. Your mother kept the memory alive.”

The echoes of his voice tapered off, leaving a palpable tension. “Lies,” Saoirse hissed, gripping the armrests of her chair. “I was there, in the very fabric of your absence. You were never the figure in the story, the shadow by my bed. You were never the one to brush away the nightmares.”

Loki’s expression grew somber, the galaxies in his eyes flickering with regret. “I was there, more than you know, more than I could ever show.”

“There you go again,” the air between them crackled, charged with Saoirse’s indignation and the raw power of the magic inherited from the god seated before her. “You are the god of many things, Loki, but a father? Ha!”

Loki’s gaze drifted into the void, a solitary figure before the vastness of time. “Amidst all my tales and trickery, you, Saoirse, remain the one truth I cannot disguise.” Thinking for a moment, Loki extended his hand, and the fabric of time seemed to pause, awaiting the will of its master.

“Then see, daughter,” he spoke once more, this time with a resonance that vibrated through the very stars. “Witness the past as I lived it.”

The cosmos around them shifted, stars and galaxies blurring as if caught in a celestial storm. Images began to coalesce – Loki himself, cradling a baby Saoirse on the throne, his voice soothing and hushed as the baby’s cries echoed off the swirling onyx marble. Shushing her gently, Loki rocked her gently, “I know, love. Your poor mother needed a break from her duties. But fear not, you are under the watchful eye of Loki, the grand architect of stories and weaver of fates. Your cries, they are but the opening notes of the grandest tale yet told.”

An image of Loki smiled at baby Saoirse as if seeking her approval, but her wailing only continued louder as she kicked her little legs and feet against his chest. Rocking her softly, the god of mischief and stories transformed his voice into a soothing cadence. “Princess Saoirse Freyja Runa Lokisdottir, your name commands the respect of the stars and the curiosity of the multiverse. Now shall we hush the night with a spell of slumber?” And so he began to sing:

Close your eyes, my precious one, In realms of fire and ice, you’ve spun. Dream of flames that dance so high, And frost that paints the winter sky. Stars alight in fiery hue, Ice crystals gleam just for you. In this world of contrasts bold, Your story, my dear, will unfold.

As Saoirse’s cries softened under the soothing baritone of her father’s voice, Loki’s eyes twinkled with an impish charm as he continued to rock her gently in his arms.

Fire and ice they both entwine, In a heart that’s purely thine. Sleep, my child, in realms so vast, In your dreams let these wonders last. With flames of passion, hearts aglow, And ice that tempers, soft and slow. You’re my light, my guiding spark, In this world, and realms beyond the dark.

With his final words barely above a whisper, a now-sleeping infant shivered before snuggling into her father’s embrace. Loki adjusted her in his arms, a playful smirk gracing his lips. “Now, my love, rest. One day, you’ll wield the powers that will have even the mightiest of deities looking over their shoulders. But for now, little one, let’s content ourselves with a more benign form of bedlam – like charming your father into carrying you through the stars.”

Loki kissed her forehead gently, brushing a dark curl out of her face. “If only your uncles Mobius and Thor could feast their eyes on this,” he whispered

***

Tears, unbidden, welled in Saoirse’s eyes as the memory faded around them. “I…I’ve been here? I never knew,” Saoirse breathed, the anger replaced by a dawning sorrow.

Loki subtly nodded, waiting for his daughter to process what she had seen.

“That better not have been a trick…another one of your lies, I swear, Loki. I will end you right here.”

His posture sinking, Loki spoke, “There is much we both have yet to understand. But know this – neither time nor realm can sever what we are to each other.”

Saoirse’s gaze softened, her anger giving way to a reluctant vulnerability. “I came here to confront you,” she admitted, her voice faltering. “But now…now, I’m not sure what I’m fighting for anymore.”

Loki stood and stepped forward towards his daughter, offering a hand that shimmered with the stardust of ages. He regarded his daughter with a father’s heart, one that had too often been cloaked in the shadows of his myth and legend. It was at this moment, he chose to speak of the lessons he had learned that brought him to the throne. “The fight you seek,” he said, his voice as soft as the light of a distant star, “is not with me, but within you. It is the struggle of understanding who you are and reconciling the past with the present.”

Saoirse, her defenses faltering like the walls of a long-worn fortress, exhaled a sigh that carried the burden of her journey to the end of time. She searched herself for the words to respond to her father standing before her. “All my life…I have been shadowboxing, fighting an image of you painted by absence and silence.”

Loki took another step forward, the space between them closing yet still charged with the energy of emotions unspoken. “And now you see, daughter, that image was but a single yarn of a much bigger story. I have loved you, cared for you, protected you – it was always there, just beyond the veil of your reality. And she knew.”

Saoirse’s eyes, no longer flinty with anger but seeking clarity, locked onto Loki’s. “You say I carry her light within me,” she spoke, accusation and yearning in her voice, “but what of your shadow? Is that not also a part of who I am?”

The god’s smile was wistful, and for a moment, it seemed as though the universe itself held its breath. “Yes,” he acknowledged, “you are both the dawn and the dusk. The light of your mother and the shadows of your father. You are both her fire and my ice. It is a legacy that you must wield with care, daughter.”

She nodded, the fight draining from her spirit as understanding began to dawn. “I am the balance. But…”

Loki stepped back to his seat, hovering over it as he waited for Saoirse to finish her words. “Yes?”

“You say you were there for us. So why didn’t you stop it? Why didn’t save her? For her? For me?”

“You still don’t know anything. Daughter, we have only scratched the surface…” Loki said, his voice taking on a more somber tone.

Saoirse’s eyes darkened, “Then tell me everything.”

“As you wish…”

---

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr

#loki masterlist #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki marvel #loki #loki series #loki x reader #tva loki

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thowawayuntilfurthernotice · 2 years

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Young Justice is cancelled because of “low toy sales”, the show gains a cult following and becomes popular on Netflix, leading to talks of a possible revival.

Years pass and it’s announced that the show was gonna get a third season, but said third season is going to a DC Universe exclusive (a steaming service that nobody uses.)

The AT&T merger happens and the show is moved to HBO Max for its fourth season, then the pandemic happened, which made production harder for the cast and crew but the fourth season eventually airs in October of 2021.

Then another merger happens, but unlike the first merger the new people in charge don’t seem to care for content, so they decide to go full scorched earth and cancel everything.

So Young Justice was brought back from cancellation because of the fans, only to get cancelled again.

We truly are living in the darkest timeline.

#Young Justice #DC Comics #DC #HBO Max #HBO Max Purge #WB #WB Discovery

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mega-ringsandthings-world · 5 months

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Oh Rings—can I call you rings?— with every Analysis and au you post my mind becomes intrigued you really understand and get to the heart of are favorite sometimes divorced most times fight couple that is Mishanks. I adore it and your post make you day.

But this Loguetown AU... now, that's some sadness and angst waiting to happen. And genius, truly. It makes sense to draw all these pirates and people to the execution and snap them up as they come rushing in. I'm guessing a lot of Marines and civilians died, but I’m sure that was a sacrifice the World Government was willing to make. Did Doflamingo get caught? He’s got friends or at least blood high up, so I assume he wasn’t caught for long.

And I’m certain just as how Shanks isn’t our fun-loving, calculating Yonko, and Mihawk isn’t our ever-bored, apathetic gardener warlord, as we know and love them in the future. Familiar faces will definitely have differing personalities, yet to face the horrors of paradise and the new world, yet to have their Sabaody arc(or maybe this is their Sabaody) and oh Mihawk you ambitious, vicious, little teen you. I can’t wait for you to earn your new epithet, i’m sure it will be… bloody. And I’m also assuming in this timeline that whoever decides to bring him the offer becoming a warlord is laughed at and then bisected for the gull.

Also total forgot Dragon. Mans is in his prime.. I’m sure he got away maybe he even run into a blue haired red nosed clown? Maybe not we can only guess but ahh that’s the fun of it! Who lives who dies who becomes a revolutionary? pirate? who gives up? that’s what it is really all that aren’t they?

All that to say, I love this au I will now place it delicately into my one piece brain au folder we’re it will be chewed on like a pit bull with lock jaw.

Rings is great! I have to say, I'm thrilled my mishanks posts are such a hit, with you and everyone else enjoying them! I was having fun putting my random thoughts on them out there, and now it's even more fun. Angst and sadness is the key! Maybe it's horrible (and I'm not apologizing for that, lol) but I love drama and discord and awful high-stake situations. And what can give more angst than messing with Shanks right after Roger's death? And throwing Mihawk in there for the ride? The entire pirates-are-captured-by-the-World-goverment-at-Roger's-execution is one big excuse to get Shanks and Mihawk into Marine custody together, where they have only themselves to rely on. And since they are going to meet and fall in love in Marine captivity (they will be there a while) their dynamic will be more intense from the start. Their natural connection + the trauma bond. There's going to be a huge fight and many dead for sure, because none of those pirates are going quietly, but the marines had a plan from the beginning, of course. If they didn't they wouldn't have been able to take anyone. And I will say that they were also gunning for Shanks specifically. For reasons. The marines/admirals/world goverment will certainly be the villians of the story. Doflamingo knew enough to get out of dodge before anything went down, as did certain other people. Coincidence? Well, maybe not. I do love young!mishanks, so Mihawk and Shanks being earlier versions of themselves is half the appeal about this AU. You can see their older selves in them, but they are younger and there's everything that comes with that. They are not quite the men they will become. (and that goes for all the other characters too!) Which means they can be hurt much, much more easily.

I said this was one of my darkest wips because Bad Things are going to happen to them, it won't just be threats or easily patched wounds. This being their Sabaody is spot-on! Everything will be All Right in the end, but they're going to go through things to get there. Mihawk's rise will be bloody. (so will Shanks') and maybe it's too early to talk about this plot, but they're also going to get revenge. through some interesting means. After what Mihawk suffers in the time spent as a captive, the very idea of him becoming a Warlord would be nothing but the highest insult. (That's not to say that becoming one is off the cards, but that's a different story) Ahh, Dragon. He's one of the ones who gets away, with someone else important. Buggy having got away is crucial, because him being free comes into play later. I don't plan on killing many people, but making them suffer is fair game. And this entire scenario is going to change the course of the future for sure. All that is too say, I have all this I need to write and get out there to you guys already, lol. I love how much you love it!

#one piece #op #opla #dracule mihawk #akagami no shanks #hawkeye mihawk #red haired shanks #mihawk one piece #shanks one piece #mishanks #mihawk x shanks #op marines

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wyntr-thyms-2sh1ne · 6 months

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El Castillo de Encanto: Que Tú Eres Mi Destino

The Castle of the Enchantment: That You Are My Destiny

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

You work as a personal servant within the Royal Madrigal's family castle, but after the fall of the Castillo and rebirth of the miracle, your work plans change. Time to make the missing triplet feel at home once again.

The dictionary of my spanglish and bad timeline: - El Castillo de Encanto the casita in this version. - Reader is technically 22 years old. - I'm using a mix of a magical democratic monarchy and traditional Spanish, Colombian, and a dash of Downton Abbey

Chapter ambience: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLWbKf4YcAA

Fifty years ago, a newly widowed mother received a miracle. Pushed out of her home after the birth of her three children by the violent conflict of the Colombian civil war, she and her husband were forced to flee in hopes of finding a new home. Even as many joined them, they could not escape the dangers of warfare. The wife watched as her newly fathered husband was lost to the violence of war. But, even in their darkest moment, Alma Madrigal was given a miracle.

The candle she held became a magical flame that could never go out, and glowed brightly in that dark night. It blessed Alma Madrigal with a refuge in which to live. The magic made towering green, protective mountains over her and her people. It was a place of wonder, an enchantment. The miracle grew, creating a castle for her and her family to live in, El Castillo de Encanto. Their house, the castle itself, came alive to shelter them.

When her children came of age, the miracle blessed them with magic too. Passing down to them a magical gift to match the magical candle Queen Alma Madrigal was bestowed. And when their children came of age, that magic was passed through each generation. Together, the royal family's gifts have made the Encanto, truly, a paradise.

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

Each gift given to the Madrigal’s was just as special as they were.

~~~

When you wake up you do so to the sound of a ringing bell, loud and clanging to purposefully alert the women and men around you. You jump up so fast being so startled and smack your forehead on the wooden panel of the bunk above you. With a small hiss and rubbing your forehead, you stumble out of bed, grabbing at the clothes under your bed frame. The woman above you does too. Everyone around is scrambling to get their royal garb on, whispering in excitement.

Today we move back into El Castillo de Encanto! The Castle!

You had to admit how relieved you were. It was so cramped in this temporary arrangement the servants of the Madrigal family found themselves in while the magic was still weak. This was usually where the nuns from the church would stay.

Truly, a humble celibate life they live… You think to yourself as you use a silvery, shiny ribbon to quickly tie your hair into a low ponytail.

Ten years ago, the village of Encanto fretted over the state of the magic blessing when Mirabel Madrigal did not receive a gift like the rest of her family. Not even 24 hours later, one of the royal magical triplets in the second generation known as “Bruno, la maldición del destino” by most of the town, disappeared.

You were only 12 when this all happened, working alongside your parents as an apprentice of servitude. When you were 13, you were working alone without your parents anymore. You weren’t sure why they passed away so young.

You loved your parents. The Columbian political unrest was too much, most nights they could see the smoke billowing from other towns around them being lit aflame. When your mother got pregnant with you they had a hard decision to make, stay with their friends and family and be in their home, or leave to ensure the safety of their future daughter- you. They thought and thought until your mother was incredibly far along in her pregnancy and the smoke got closer and closer, until they could see orange in the village nearby. The flames licked upwards, burning the homes of innocent families. So, with nothing but a bag with a blanket and a mysterious letter that didn’t have a return address with directions, they set out to find the mysterious Encanto.

You still had that letter. You had practically memorized what it had written on it. In shiny golden metallic font, it stated, “The Encanto, home for anyone looking for refuge or a miracle. Follow the butterflies. Climb the forested mountain. It is waiting for you.” They did. Somehow, they told you, they found it. It was almost like being lost and blinking and suddenly realizing where you’re going. They walked by the butterflies they saw. They took the nights in the cover of the jungle forests. They hiked up mountains.

They actually saw the castle, and almost as if it was meant to be, your mother went into labor. You remembered sitting there and listening to this story as a child with wonder coursing through your veins. The magical royal family was alerted to them as newcomers, and they took pity on your mother and father. You were born inside the castle, brought into the world by none other than her Majesty Juileta Madrigal. The Madrigals favored your parents' perseverance and love for you as their daughter. They were personally assigned to be paid and housed as servants of the Madrigal family.

Which, in the Encanto, was a very good job many of the villagers would be envious of.

Your mother became Juileta’s personal servant. Your father, Bruno’s. You would remember how your mom would come back to the servants quarters with a smile on her face and a treat for you. Your father… Typically would come back looking worried and flop on his bed for a minute before winding down and being his usual self.

When you were 5 that was when the apprenticeship started happening. Nothing really like backbreaking work, the servants usually never had to do that. You followed in your parents footsteps and worked to be a personal servant. The Madrigals had servants for everything. Teachers, babysitters, clothes, cooking, training- anything! A passion could easily be followed. Like your mother and father, from a young age you really liked order. You liked cleaning, putting things in place, choosing outfits and hairstyles or decorating rooms to be more cozy.

When Mirabel came of age for her gift, and the ceremony was a disaster as she didn’t even get a gift, your mother and father seemed both distraught. Then, Bruno disappeared. Your father suddenly and immediately declined. He wouldn’t get up for his servant job from his bunk. He only spoke to you and your mother. You couldn’t even think of how many times he whispered “you know I love you, right?” to you and your mother every night. You knew he blamed himself for Bruno disappearing, perhaps. Maybe he thought he should’ve done a better job? You didn’t know. You were too young to know.

Your mother passed first, however. You remember her waking up really early that day and whispering “I love you mi luna” to your dad, kissing his cheek before leaving. You don’t know exactly what happened. You think maybe a stroke. But your mother passed while working, and it was so quick Juileta couldn’t get to her in time to heal her.

When your father heard the news he was devastated. He held you that night. When you woke up to get breakfast you came back to him cold, and lifeless, still in his bunk. You knew he died of a broken heart.

You wished to have a love like your parents. A marriage like them. But ever since they passed you have focused on working and being the most reliable servant in the Castillo. Because of that, at the ripe young age of 13 you were assigned to La Riena Alma’s biggest mess.

Mirabel Madrigal.

Her Queen Alma Madrigal found the gift-less grandchild to be a pain, invisible, not as special as the rest of the magical family. When she saw how hard you worked even at your age and everything that had happened she grew content with making you the girls permanent personal servant.

You didn’t complain.

By then she was 7. And Mirabel was the kindest, funniest, little girl you had ever met. You practically raised her. You studied with her after her educational servant would let her out for the day, you bathed her and made sure her hair was shiny, you cleaned her glasses and taught her how to step on every stone in the Castillo without putting a foot on a crack.

It broke your heart to see how badly Mirabel wanted to help the family even without a magical blessing like her siblings and cousins. You would go into town with her sometimes and watch the villagers practically ignore her. You hated it. But you tried everything in your power to make sure that Mirabel was happy, gift or no gift. She was special to you. A soul sister.

When you turned 18, because of how well you handled Mirabel, her majesty Queen Madrigal named you head of servants. Honored, and feeling privileged, you worked even harder. But despite everything you did it felt like the family tension with Mirabel and the hush hush about “ese desgraciado Bruno diablo” grew more and more.

Until the magic completely failed.

When Isabela Madrigal had a very unsuccessful, chaotic proposal from the village favored Guzman family son, Riena Alma ordered you to take all the servants away to a temporary housing arrangement at the church. She made sure to scream about how the magic is strong and the candle will never burn out.

It did.

The Castillo literally crumbled to the ground. Turned into a pile of rubble with barely known remnants of what was once a glorious castle. Mirabel disappeared. Horrified you spent hours with the Madrigals searching for her in this devastated state. The magic was gone, the blessing was no more, and it would seem only a miracle could fix the internal damage within the familia Madrigal and the hope of the villagers.

Thankfully. She did come back. On horseback, with her Abuela Alma and a figure no one ever expected to return.

Bruno.

Reunited with her family, Mirabel single handedly encouraged the entire Encanto to hope in miracles again. A month of hard work from everyone made the Castillo be rebuilt in the same glory it was before. And when Mirabel added the final touch of a doorknob, the miracle became restored. The bright golden lights and sparkles and swirls of colors that made their way up through the stone of the Castillo and rooted themselves in the ground under the whole village's feet was a sight to only behold in a state of awed wonder.

It was a day of celebration. You took Mirabel’s hands and danced with her in celebration, cheering, saying “I knew you could do it! You are so much more special than you realize!!” The new miracle bestowed another blessing on the land, one that united everyone in communication and a desire to be better and let go of the biases of the past and make a better future.

You blinked rapidly from your thoughts when your bunk mate called for you over her shoulder, “Hey! Líder sin miedo, c’mon! You’re going to be late moving into your ‘elite servant’ room!”

You laugh and sprint towards her and outside of the cramped sleeping quarters, “As long as I get top bunk this time!!!

~~~

Your joke earlier was meant as a joke and when you got to the castle everything went even more smoothly. Luckily, you did not need a bunk mate. Upon uniting with their respective Madrigal family members, each servant was either on the giving or receiving end of a magical hug.

Mirabel threw herself at you and you at her, both of you embracing in a fit of giggles, dancing from side to side in the tight hug. When the girl pulls away she pushes her glasses up her face and smiles at you as if she was still the humble, giftless girl she was before and not the restoration of a miracle.

Her humbleness still made her excitedly help you get settled into your quarters. They were nice. You had a room alone to yourself, with a queen sized bed and your own personal bathroom, bookcase, desk, wardrobe, and drawers. Mirabel didn’t shut up the whole time she helped you get moved in, excitedly talking about the magic and then moving on to the most surprising topic to most of the other servants.

Her tío Bruno.

She excitedly explained to you how he was “weird, but not like, weird weird like more like just kinda nutty weird not like super evil weird.” Which honestly made you chuckle a little.

“So master Bruno is awkward?”

“Yeah!” Mirabel lit up, still talking like a madman, which you loved. You really did like it when someone was excited to talk about something. It was sweet how passionate they would get. And you loved Mirabel, and so each nod and hum you gave in reply to her rambling was entirely genuine.

She explained how short Bruno was. How he lived in the abandoned dungeon and the walls of the Castillo, with his only friends being the rats in there. She even explained his embarrassing habit of using them to make his own little personal plays so he would be entertained all cooped up in there.

You giggled, only drawing on what your father’s experience was with him. He explained Bruno was always well meaning but prone to being really unlucky himself. He always tried to convince you as a young girl that Bruno wasn’t as scary as everyone made him seem.

Standing at 5’3, being 50 years old, and looking so skinny for his age- yup. You believed him and Mirabel well over the village folk and Camilo’s shallow seven foot interpretation of his uncle.

Mirabel went on to explain how much he loved the Encanto, the Madrigal monarchy itself, and each and every one of the family members. How he aided her in seeing the future to help save the miracle. She made sure to put a lot of emphasis on how he seemed to be the only adult she had ever met (“aside from present company, of course,” she made sure to add, winking at you) who treated her with respect. Like he understood her wishes and desires and demands and even if he was scared he knew what was for the best despite the wishes of the f amily to remain “fine”. After her emotional banter about him she got more into his appearance.

By then you were following behind her with your back straight, clasped hands held at your belly button height, resuming the perfect personal servant posture as you did before the collapse. Your tied up hair billowed behind you as you kept a strong, certain stride. You wanted to make sure you kept working that hard and pouring everything you had into this job even if the family seemed more lax. You were the Head of Servitude, after all.

“He has this crazy slouch. You know, like the kind you see little gárgolas standing in. Oh! And he always rings his hands or waves them around- real expressive with them, ya know?” Mirabel walked, talking to you over her shoulder, “He is all gangly like he doesn’t know where to put his limbs sometimes. You know what I mean- like a growing adolescente. He seems to not understand where to place his feet.” Mirabel walked the memorized path to her room, not stopping a moment during all of this, “When the castle was rebuilt he immediately went to bed. He wasn’t awake this morning if you didn’t see- in fact I bet he’s still in bed, durmiendo todo el dia, jeez, what an old man. Well I guess it’s not that big of a deal, he doesn’t really like using his gift anyways.”

When she stopped in front of her door she turned to you, a smile still on her happy little face. You chuckled, and spoke, “What a glowing review for your regio uncle.”

“I know right!” Mirabel giggled and moved her hips and legs so her brightly colored skirt swung back and forth. You stepped up next to her with a soft smile, making her turn towards her bedroom door and reach for the handle, “Now it’s your turn to help me move in!” She gave you a sly smile, knowing you would love this detail, “I need a lot of help decorating.”

Your eyes lit up in happiness, your face not revealing it in its entirety but a small smile did form on your lips.

You grabbed the door knob with her, “What are we waiting for then?!”

Mirabel laughed.

The next week went on with the Madrigal family settling back into the Castillo with as much grace and understanding under the new miracle Mirabel had created. Unfortunately, because Mirabel was the creator of this miracle you found yourself not her personal servant as often anymore. It meant you had to resume the extra duties of head of servitude (which, admittedly, were not as fun as goofing around with Mirabel all day).

You usually wake her up most days. It meant a good morning routine and a great way to start off the day as she would sing while you fixed her hair and tended to her curls. Her eyes would scrunch behind her glasses as you scolded her for being such a “wiggly worm” and “oruga tonta”.

So often her Majesty the Queen Alma Madrigal would come into Mirabel’s room in the morning. You would have to take a step back as your mistress would run up to her abuela and kiss her cheek and ask her how she slept. It was clear that they had repaired their relationship and were eagerly growing it as the days went on.

“Might I borrow the room, miss?” Reina Alma had asked of you on the first morning back in the saddle.

You bowed, “Yes your su Majestad,” You kept your head down in proper etiquette with your hands placed together at your midsection, walking past the queen with kindness.

You were anxious. Mirabel was whisked away more and more by her grandmother, and while you were so excited for her you knew what it meant. Less time with you! What you saw as your little sister was finally growing up and it pained you a little. You didn’t know why. You practically felt like her second mom. You watched her grow from lost in the world to understanding her place.

Perhaps you wished to continue to have that life guidance for her. It gave you a lot of meaning.

When Mirabel was advising her grandmother, you busied yourself with the other tasks demanded of your head of servitude job. That included but was not limited to meal preparations, cleaning, making beds, washing laundry, explaining to Camilo that he has to understand that he cannot go into the female servants quarters even if he was “technically a female servant right now”, and finding meaningless ways to make even more spaces within the Castillo aesthetically appealing.

There were a few times in that week you would reorganize a room just for the heck of it to give you some purpose, and Castillo’s tiles and walls would shift, rattling and making a satisfying domino effect, pushing the furniture back into its proper places. This was often accompanied by a sigh, because you knew Castillo could tell you weren’t doing it for your job, but rather, for your own fulfillment.

It was getting boring. You loved your job, but it seemed without purpose. Mirabel was growing up and doing what she was born to do- be the real miracle.

You found yourself often going back to Julieta or Agustin during this time to assist them- Agustin because he was always clumsy and needed help with something, Julieta because you could never shake the feeling that she felt like “mom”. About halfway through the week, an interesting conversation happened in the kitchen.

“Agustin appreciates the attention you’ve been giving him despite the fact he already has three personal servants to keep him out of trouble,” Julieta smiled at you, her down turned brown eyes warm as you mixed dough, her hands busy kneading it.

A lot of servants helped her cook, and they all bustled around with ingredients and bowls and utensils of all kinds. The smell in the kitchen was amazing, absolutely estupendo.

“Of course la dama, anything to help the amazing Madrigals,” You replied, smiling at her work. What a unique gift. All she needed to do was lay her hands on the food at some point or another in the process and have it possess that healing power.

“You might need to get used to it,” Daniela, a kitchen maid, skidded past, only a few years older than you. She put a bowl into the oven, using the fireplace poker to make sure the heat stayed consistent on the food, “I’ve heard Mirabel and her Majesty Reina Alma are getting close. Almost like she is her heiress.”

You paused, shooting her a glance as Julieta chuckled and shook her head a little, “Mamá still has some kick in her and Mirabel is still only a child, una adolescente, she’s just 15. That won’t be happening soon.” She looked down, and you noticed despite her words she had a giant, proud, motherly smile on her face for her daughter. Always in her corner, just like you.

“Still,” María, the second kitchen maid and Julieta’s own personal servant, butted in, “Soon to become a royal advisor I’m sure of it.” The older woman set a cutting board down and began to carefully chop up some fresh cilantro, “Perhaps even her own personal asesora real, considering all the advice she's giving Her Reina already,” María sounded more logical, as if stating the simple facts. She glanced up to look between you and Julieta.

“Probably due to be on the royal court this week alone,” Daniela chirped, ever the dramatic gossiper.

“I’d hope,” You burst, finally speaking up. You beat the liquids and powder in the bowl in front of you with much unbridled vigor that it became mixed as one within seconds, touching the rim and coating one of your thumbs with the batter, “After all these years pushing her to the wayside they finally recognize her talent- oh no! No longer a pequeña oruga, eating up resources and an unpleasant sight. But no, now she's a una hermosa mariposa, glowing with a new miracle… As if she wasn’t already and wasn’t that always!”

The kitchen completely stills. Both maids and her majesty Juileta all stare at you and the paused image of your aggressively beaten batter and downcast gaze.

You take your hands off the bowl, lower your head so your scalp is visible to the royal Madrigal in the room, bowing with your hands clutched at your midsection, “I beg your pardon mi señora, I don’t know what got into me.”

Julieta gives you a small, sympathetic look. She nodded to her two other maids, and both resumed their duties as if not being bothered at all. She turned to you, putting a gentle, caring hand on your tense shoulder, “My dear, levanta la cabeza,” she put a hand under your chin and tilted it up to meet her eyes, “Let’s have a moment, shall we? To the pantry, let’s go.”

Julieta led you with a hand on your back in the most mothering way you could imagine, whispering, “Danos un momento, ladies,” to her maids as she took you into the pantry closet, closing the door behind her.

The smell of spices, fresh herbs, and dried meats and proteins hit your nose the moment you were inside. You turned to her majesty, scrambling, “I’m so sorry. I feel she is slipping away from me-”

“Shh! Shh…” Julieta gently calmed you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “Honey, I would know how you’re feeling. I’m her mother. Mirabel deserves this, yes, but it feels so whip-lashed for sure.. One moment she comes crying to your side and now she is the heart of the Encanto, what keeps the magic breathing and alive..” she gazed proudly at nothing in particular, before blinking rapidly and looking back at you. “But I know you, and I know this is more than that.”

You sigh softly, “I just… if she moves on, gets all this power and fulfillment… mine will go. What will I do as my job? Will I ever be happy in my job again?” You shrug then turn your head to the side, not meeting Juileta’s gaze, “Would I have to resign as head of servitude? Leave my job?”

“Gracious mija! Calm down…” Julieta frantically grabbed one of your hands, making your head turn back to her.

She gave a worried look, lips pursed and one corner pushed up. Her warm chocolate colored eyes gazed at you for a moment, making sure you were calm and adding extra comfort by being warm and assuring, before she continued to speak, “We all love you here in the Castillo.” She squeezed your hand softly, “If you were to leave I’m sure the other servants and half of the Madrigal’s ourselves would riot-“

This caused you to laugh a little, making Julieta’s smile grow a little bigger. She went on, “You were destined for this, I held you in my hands as an adorable bebita right here in the walls of the El Castillo de Encanto, and you love it! Why leave?”

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen and I feel out of control,” you breathed, rushing it out as you gazed at Julieta genuinely. Your brows were furrowed so tight in fear of the admittance and the vulnerability you were in at that moment. You knew your forehead wrinkles probably look ridiculous looking back on it.

Julieta stared at you a moment, her eyes almost looking confused before they lit with a spark of understanding, “Ah…” She brought you in for a hug, “Oh mija… do not carry that on your shoulders… you were a little girl… there was no way you could control anything…”

You knew she was talking about your mom and dad.

“You think… that’s where this started?”

“Yes bebita,” she pulled away from the hug with a small smile, “It was how your mother and father coped too. When they were stressed they ran to control.. rules and order. Sí, I think that’s it for you. You like to feel in control because you felt so out of control when that happened. I’m letting you know right now you can relax, honey. The Madrigal’s and Mí Sobregoneta Familia will always take care of you. Come, come, let’s finish cooking dinner-“

You nodded, trying to lean into her words. It made sense in your head but your stomach felt uneasy still. However, logically you knew her majesty was right. Julieta could read you as if you were one of her own daughters.

By the time dinner had been served your rapidly beating heart had quieted and your mind was at a little bit more ease.

However, your boredom and lack of personal servitude would soon come to a screeching halt.

“I now announce you as his majesty Bruno Madrigal’s personal servant.”

Queen Alma Madrigal was smiling with her chin up, crown glistening, and back straight with each of her hands placed together in front of her.

You looked similar. A perfect straight back with knees slightly bent in a bow and knuckles white from gripping your hands together at your middle. However, you didn’t have a smile. You knew your eyes were big and face drained of color.

That morning started out how it usually did. How it always did. Waking Mirabel up and singing with her as you gently put oils into her curly hair. You decided to brush it back and keep the top of her hair in a cute little ponytail. The sun was warm, and her giggles were sweet, and she had no malicious intentions in her eyes behind those green glasses while she excitedly exclaimed she had a surprise for you.

When Reina Alma entered the room you bowed as you usually did, not a wrinkle in your skirt nor a stutter in your posture. However, it was when they both opened their mouths and had you rise from your bow that things got very very off schedule.

More so, completely flipped around.

And now her majesty Queen Alma Madrigal has assigned you a whole new job after the one you had exclusively been in since you were a teenager.

“Oh geez please don’t look like that!” Mirabel walked over to you and grabbed your upper arms, making you look at her. She gave her usual dorky smile, “This is literally perfect for you!”

“Mí mijo,” Alma stepped forwards, whispering as she took a more casual stance with you- something so surprising since the Queen really, really cared about her royalty and the whole strict regime that went with it, “He’s… Struggling. He is always late to family dinner. He’s not getting up on time. He’s too nervous to use his gift and to go out into town. We have tried what we can to convince him, and he…” she stopped, swallowing, looking at her granddaughter.

The bright butterfly continued for her royal family member, “He refuses a personal servant. I think he’s just shy. Maybe embarrassed. And probably really scared.” She smiled at you softly, pushing up her glasses and continuing, “He really needs some order and routine right now.”

Okay, now she was clearly trying to cater to you.

Queen Alma stepped forward and stooped down a little to your eye level so you could see her scalp, placing her royal, magical hand on your shoulder and it made you feel so humbled. However, she herself humbled instead, looking into your eyes and meekly begging, “You did such a wonderful job making sure Mirabel grew up, despite my best efforts, knowing she was good enough and could be happy.” You relished a little bit in how the Queen openly admitted her faults when it came to Mirabel, and you relished even more in the small, soft, warm smile the two shared after her words. “You are so talented and wonderful at what you do. You clearly care for the El Castillo de Encanto, the magic itself, and our family. Extend your helping hand to me, once again, but allow me to ask for the betterment this time,” Alma moved to stand up straight, putting her hand under your chin with her fingers curled in so only the knuckle of her pointer finger gently nudged your chin upwards too, “Mí Brunito needs you. I believe your magic touch-“ her lips curled in a small smile making you smile too- “will break him out of his shell and let him relax in his new life. I want more than anything to let my son know he is valued by the Encanto, by our blessing, by our family, and more so, to be proud of himself the way I am now so much more proud of him.”

You let out a sigh exclusively from your nose, shutting your eyes for a moment.

Everything made sense. You had to let go of Mirabel. She is grown up now. You were being put in a position where you were needed most.

You thought of your dad. How he used to take care of Bruno. How he implored people to be kinder, how he saw his master and friends true nature and how it deeply distressed him when nobody would see it too.

You thought of what happened when Bruno disappeared.

You opened your eyes. You wanted to fulfill the legacy set before you by two people just as loving and passionate as you were.

You have a small nod, looking between both of the Madrigals, “I would be honored to take his majesty Bruno Madrigal as my master.”

Both of them smiled. Soon, there were four arms wrapped around you in a hug.

In the distance you heard the faint noise of sand in the wind.

Fair warning, future chapters will have smut. 18+ I will tag it when it's appropriate Correct me on any spellings, bad grammar, and ESPECIALLY on poor translation. Thoughts? Feelings? If you have none: what kind of royal would *you* be?

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