#does isabela even have furniture

[applesap-fics]

Fapruary 1 - Wedding night

E, 1851 words, Mariano/Isabela. What if Isabela went through with the wedding?

--

There are an awful lot of things to do before the wedding and Mariano scarcely has the time to talk with Isabela about it, and even then Isabela doesn’t want to say much without her family to consult. His grandmother guffaws when he laments this with a sigh. “You’d rather run away with her and have her in private, wouldn’t you!”

It would give them time to admire each other without anyone present, yes. Isabela, even now, even promised to Mariano, still feels like something unreachable. A flower he can’t pluck. No– She’s more like an arrangement of a bouquet.

That is how she stays. Arranged. Even at the altar as he compares her to the most beautiful flower in the Encanto. 

Even at the reception. 

Mariano is sweaty and woozy from dancing and drinking. Isabela throws a light curtain of rose petals wherever she dances, her smile gleaming and inviting, but at some point even her endless supply of cheer runs out and she comes to sit with Mariano at one of the side tables. 

She sighs, as weary as Mariano is from the long day they’ve had to navigate. She brushes invisible crumbs or wrinkles from her lap. Nothing catches on her pure white gloves. The content expression on his wife’s face is one of a job well done.

His wife. They’re done now. They’ve courted, proposed, prepared and now they’re wedded. That does feel very satisfying, he supposes. At least all the rituals and ceremonies are out of the way now. 

He fumbles for words. What do you say to your wife when she’s so beautiful and perfect? He’s been afraid to say too much today in case he messed it up with her. 

“Are you happy?” he ends up saying, dumbly, even though he does really want to know. “With today, I mean?”

She smiles. “Of course. It went really well.”

Mariano nods. “Yeah.” It went exactly the way Abuela and doña Alma wanted it to. Their families were so excited.

“And we’re almost done.”

That’s exactly it! The night is almost over and they can finally relax. With the wedding complete, there isn’t much needed on their part to keep the party going. 

“Good thing you don’t have to wear the trail anymore,” he says. It’s hard to imagine Isabela tripping over anything, but at least he didn’t have to watch out for it while dancing with her. He’d been worried about that before Abuela laughed it off.

She hums as if he’s made an astute observation instead of a joke. It makes him both feel less and even more awkward. Actually, it makes him feel a little dumb, but that’s probably not how she meant it.

“It’s getting late, isn’t it?” Isabela says. 

“I don’t think I can dance any more,” he agrees. Parties in the Encanto, especially the Madrigals’, can last for days. “Do you uh… wanna end the night?”

It’s exactly what she wants to do. 

Isabela reaches for his hand. She’s soft, and the unexpected touch sends shivers up his arm. He always likes it when she touches him. Flirty, making him curious, sighing and yearning after her. They used to be fleeting, but now that they’re married she’s allowed to touch him as much as she wants.

Gently, they move through the crowd, saying pleasant goodbyes and thankyous and avoiding jokes about flower picking, as Isabela takes Mariano up to her room. 

The party instantly quiets as the door closes behind them. So this is her room. Their room, technically, though it is dauntingly Isabela. On some level he knows his clothes have moved into her wardrobe — all pink and lavender now, even though he likes white and red more — but from floor to bottom it’s all flowers and gardens with not a lot of furniture. If the house can spare it, he hopes Casita has a writing desk for him.

Starstruck, he takes in the tower, and (“Woah!”) as they step further into the room, a bed is lowered by vines from the ceiling hidden by a flower curtain.

That’s now their bed, where he will wake up as her husband and she as his wife every single day for the rest of time.

“Oh,” he sighs when it dawns on him. They aren’t that kind of done.

“Mariano.” Isabela’s voice is soft, shaky. Her hands are clasped in front of her. For the first time he’s known her, it sounds as if she’s not sure what to say. 

His hand slips up her arm above her glove where his palm rests on her warm, naked skin. “Isabela…”

“Do you want to have sex?” 

Mariano’s groin stirs at the proposition. It’s not like he’s never fantasized about it before. 

A strand of black silky hair, beautifully curling over her bare neckline, enticing. “Of course I want to,” he says, his knuckles grazing over her skin, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”

She flashes a smile. 

“Isabela…” Mariano cups her cheek, round and soft in his broad hand, and kisses her deeply. 

They kissed before at the altar and once during the party when their photo got taken. Lips firm against lips to seal the deal, the next one a little lighter. Sparks contained, knowing that he couldn’t push too hard at the time for fear of ruining the moment for her, for the family watching them. The perfect kiss. 

It’s so much more than he expected. More than anything he could have written up for her in a love poem. Her lips are so soft and so easy to get lost in. When he angles his head to deepen the kiss, she yields easily, even opening her mouth for him! Feeling much braver than a moment before, he slips his tongue in, parting her mouth even further until he moans wantongly into her. His body runs warm. His cock stirs, hardening against her dress. And Isabela–

--

If he goes too rough, she knows she can ask him to slow down. She’s thankfully not as tense as she was a few months back, when Dolores made that joke about the five babies and she was once again pulled into a future she knew she had to prepare for. 

“Will it hurt?” she had asked Mami. When she grew up, the Abuelitas (if they dared to speak of sex at all) always said it would hurt the first time, and a few of her girlfriends were already married and had said the same. “Guys are so rough.” They were of no help, of course. 

But Mami and tía Pepa had softened the blow a little. “If he does it right, you’ll want to dive back onto him as soon as he’s done,” Pepa told her shamelessly, at which her mother had blushed, but nodded. “Ask him to slow down if he goes too fast,” her mother added. “And that goes for kissing too. I don’t know, mija, he seems so dreamy. But all boys get excited and you’re allowed to set boundaries.”

So far so good, kissing wise. The real boundary she wants to set is for him to sleep on the floor (or another room where she won’t have to spend time with him) and never touch her again. She hadn’t been able to get that out of her mind. Mariano on top of her, under her, near her. His lips. His face. His hands. His penis. She wanted to shake the thought out of her head any time she thought of it. How to make those five babies happen. Him on top of her. Him inside of her. 

So, as she does with any new challenge, she had practiced what she would do. Touched herself, not out of curiosity like when she was a teen, but with purpose. Her hands roaming her breasts, firm. Her curves, smooth, probably easy to grab. The hair between her legs. The heat. That nub that send a shock through her the first time she found it. 

Mariano spreads her like a tossed bouquet of flowers on the bed. Pulls his hand through her bodice, popping open the pearl-like buttons on her back. She knows what she looks like to him. Mirrors help her to see how others perceive her. Her wedding dress, slightly bunched up. Her full breasts poking out of the corset, engulfed by Mariano’s warm mouth. 

It feels like an insect crawling on top of her. She had hoped she wouldn’t be as dry as she imagined. Rarely did she think of Mariano fucking her when she spread her legs under the covers and rubbed herself. Sometimes she thought of herself, writhing, a little scared. Sometimes she — traitorously — thought of her friends who already had sex. Who knew how to move to make it pleasurable, to please their husbands. Sometimes she thought of them teaching her. 

Their fingers on her clit, instead of Mariano’s. Their higher, but still husky voices moaning against her earlobe, kissing her neck, instead of Mariano’s. Their slim fingers curling inside of her, like Isabela liked to do to herself, instead of Mariano’s. 

Unable to find her entrance, he rubbed his cock against her. “Is this good?”

At least he’s nice. But no. Nothing about this feels good. It’s like grinding against uncooked ham. 

“Yes,” she says with a moan, moving in tandem with him. 

It’s like dancing! Tío Félix had quipped before breaking into a waltz with tía Pepa. On another, separate occasion, Papi had said the same. It was good advice. Dancing she could do.

She took his hand and moved it down her belly, guiding him towards her clit. At least with his eyes closed he’s not looking at her grimace. 

She does let out a genuine cry when their fingers circle her clit and his cock breaches her cunt right after. 

Better not to think of Mariano. Maybe if it was one of the younger aunties guiding something inside her instead, to teach her how to take something big. The most fingers she’s been able to get inside of herself is three, and Mariano feels much bigger than anything she’s taken before. That should make it more believable that this is her first time. Still, there’s no way he has the experience to know she isn’t technically a virgin anymore. Not all women bleed, her mother had said. Isabela is certainly not going to bleed for Mariano. (Although she had, briefly, thought about secretly pricking herself so the sheets would stain red.) 

And it’s not so bad once he thrusts inside of her. She doesn’t ask him to slow down, maybe even kind of likes the way he rams into her. The sooner he’s done, the sooner she’s done. The thrusts shove her mind away from Mariano. From his noises. From his hairy arms locked around her and his equally hairy chest rubbing against her bare breasts. She can pretend his hardness is her own. That somehow, the mirror is still in front of her.

It’s a lot to get used to. The next night, she’s already adjusted a little bit more.

#encanto #encanto fanfics #mariano guzman #isabela madrigal #fapruary #<- no idea if ill be able to keep that up #mariano/isabela #i cant imagine people check that tag but still #mariano x isabela

[encantowishes]

(All my Encantober stories will be collected here.)

Encantober Day 11 - Door

The Darkened Door

Julieta kept checking. She couldn’t help herself.

Bruno’s room was in the corner, right between hers and Luisa’s. It would have been between hers and Mirabel’s, if only  … 

The morning after Mirabel’s failed ceremony, Bruno was late for breakfast. That wasn’t so unusual. Neither of Julieta’s siblings had ever been morning people, and Bruno typically straggled behind even Pepa. In the last few years, sometimes he didn’t show up for breakfast at all. During especially bad times, he wouldn’t leave his room all day.

“Where is my son?” Mamá groused. “I asked him for something last night, and he never returned to me. I thought surely I would see him this morning.”

“Should I go get him?” Julieta asked, because she was still standing.

Félix started to rise from his seat. “I can bring him, Julieta. You’ve got your hands full.”

She did. It was a big platter of steaming arepas. Julieta didn’t notice that Camilo had sidled up next to her, and was quietly trying to reach for one.

Her eyes were on Mirabel, who was sitting at the table, hunched in on herself. Luisa, on her left, had scooted her chair right up alongside her, and had an arm over her shoulders. Agustín, on Mirabel’s right, was whispering something to her. Isabela was on the other side of her papá, plucking petals from a small flower with unusual diligence. Across from them, Pepa leaned over the table with her palms pressed against her temples. Dolores leaned her head against her mamá’s shoulder.

“No,” Mamá declared. “He’s chosen not to join us; we won’t disrupt breakfast for him. I’ll talk to him later.”

Most of the family left for the village immediately after eating, to attend to their chores. Just before heading out herself, Julieta took a plate upstairs, as she’d done many times. She stopped short as she reached the corridor that led to Bruno’s room, pushed back from everyone else. The plate clattered to the tiled walkway, and both cracked. Julieta ran up the steps, yelling for her brother. She banged on his door.

His darkened door.

Her shouting drew others. “What’s going on?” Mamá called from downstairs.

“Something’s wrong! Bruno’s door has -- has gone dark!”

Agustín appeared. “What does it mean?”

Julieta fought with the handle. Why did it resist turning? “I don’t know. It’s never happened before.” Having forced the handle to turn, she now found it necessary to push her shoulder against the door itself. As though something was piled up on the other side. But there was nothing. The door was only stuck. Julieta entered, her husband close behind her. She called to Bruno again as she approached the sand curtain. It did not part for her.

“Mamá?” came Mirabel’s voice behind them. “What’s the matter? Where’s Tío Bruno?”

“Stay here with your papá, mija. I’m going to find him.”

Mamá arrived, fuming. “What were you shout ing a--”

Julieta pulled the door so that Mamá could see the front. Her mouth fell open. “Why would this happen?” Julieta asked.

Mamá furrowed her brow and strode forward. “Let’s go.”

Stepping through the sand curtain, they found that where there had once been a short set of semi-circular steps, there was now a steep dune. Julieta took her mother’s hand, and together they gingerly made their way to the bottom.

“Bruno!” Mamá shouted. When her voice stopped echoing through the topless cavern, the only sound was the moving sand.

Despite its size, Bruno’s room was sparse. The women made their way over to the nook, an easily-overlooked, mostly enclosed space that housed Bruno’s furniture and personal belongings. They found jumbled bedclothes and a disorganized desk. Mamá sighed.

Julieta began sifting through the papers on Bruno’s desk.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. A note, maybe?” What kind of note? But all she found were fragments of story ideas, thoughts about books Bruno had read, and simple drawings of rats.

The rats. Where were they? Julieta hadn’t seen or heard a single rat since they’d entered the room. The realization frightened her, perhaps as much as the darkened door.

“Help me out of here,” Mamá said. “You and Agustín check the vision cave. I’ll … look after Mirabel.”

Getting up all those precarious stairs was an undertaking, and a fruitless one. Each of them carried a lamp, so there was plenty of light, but they saw nothing in the cave besides sand.

On the way back across the bridge, Agustín managed to catch his leg on one of the rope supports, and tripped. The bridge swayed, but Juileta was able to grab her husband and help him make it the rest of the way.

“When we find Bruno, we need to tell him to replace that bridge,” Agustín said. “I think it could give way at any moment.”

Julieta didn’t answer.

“Amor? We have to make sure the kids don’t come in here. It isn’t safe.”

She nodded.

They didn’t find Bruno that day. Or the next day. Or the next week. Or the next month. And one day, they stopped looking.

But Julieta looked. Every time she passed the corridor, she looked. The door stayed dark. Seven months after Bruno disappeared, when it was their birthday: Dark. Five months after that, when a year had passed: Dark. 

Nobody talked about him anymore. Pepa couldn’t bear to. She insisted she was too angry. Julieta knew better, of course. How could she not, when they’d been together since the womb?

Another year passed. Another. Finally five, and Antonio was born. Julieta looked down the corridor, wishing she could talk to her brother about their new sobrino. The door was dark.

Over the years, there were many things she wished she could talk to him about, especially Mirabel. The girl had adored him, even when he spent long stretches without emerging from his room. Julieta didn’t know what to do. She and Agustín tried to be encouraging, but her daughter clearly still didn’t feel she fit in. If she had her tío around, someone she could maybe relate to …

“Get some sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow,” Julieta told Mirabel on the night of Antonio’s ceremony. It had to be hard, standing by while someone you loved was granted what you were denied. Julieta herself didn’t stay up much later. She didn’t want to hear what Mamá would say. As she went upstairs to bed, she looked again. The door was still dark.

Not even twenty-four hours later, the door was gone. The whole house was gone. And Mirabel was gone.

That night felt like a lifetime, not knowing where her youngest daughter was. Would they search for Mirabel a week, a month, and eventually have to stop looking? No, never. She should never have stopped looking for Bruno. She would never stop looking for Mirabel.

But then dawn came, and with it, Mirabel, and with it … and with it, Bruno, at last.

* * * 

Julieta keeps checking. She can’t help herself. 

On her way from her room to the stairs going down, she pauses in front of the corridor. It seems a little shorter and a little less dim than it used to be. She walks up to the door, counting the steps. Yes, there is one less.

The door shimmers steadily, just as it had on the triplets’ fifth birthday, when they received their Gifts. The image of Bruno, a relief carving made by no human hand, gazes back at her with its enigmatic smirk. Julieta reaches up toward the face, tentatively, as though she is afraid that by touching it, she will break the spell. Wake from this happy dream where her brother is among the family again.

The door opens, the image of Bruno replaced by the man himself. His large eyes blink in surprise. “Oh, hi Julieta. Did you want something?” He smiles softly.

Julieta’s hand is still in the air. She caresses his cheek with it. “I want my brother to drink chocolate santafereño with me.”

“Ooh, yes please.”

They walk close together as they head downstairs to the kitchen. She’s so happy to watch him enjoy his drink. So happy to listen to him tell her all about the little rat-sized set he’s building. There’s still a bit of that hollowness in his eyes, that hesitation and jumpiness. But day by day he keeps getting better. Julieta knows the door will not go dark again.

#encantober #encantober door #it's me amrys

[bombasticprimekitty]

Side Story: The Plight Of A Living Home

The family was down. That much Casita could tell.

Not that it can blame them.

For the most part, they were handling it relatively fine. But only when they were together. The very moment they were left alone and that they thought no one was watching was when they fell apart. Their grief let out to the world and yet still cages to the confine of its halls. Their tears soaking its floor, their fingernails scratching its walls, even upturning their furniture when things get too much to bear.

Everyone is trying to be strong for one another. But what Casita knows about humans is that they can only take so much before they break. And when they break they can’t be fixed like it can. They don’t have tiles that can be replaced, or a paint that can be renewed, or a window sill to be changed. Humans are fragile creatures, they need each other to survive.

But it can’t really help them all that much, even when Lord Arceus gave life to it and tasked it to protect and care for them.

It was just that Casita doesn't understand how. It was after all, just a house. An inanimate object.

Alma never gives it a chance to help deal with her grief. Even when she was still grieving for Pedro and taking care of the three infants. The old woman never falters in her decision. Remaining stubborn till this day to carry her baggage alone. Casita had all but given up on trying to comfort her and just help her with whatever task that needed it’s help.

It doesn’t know where to begin to comfort Julieta, whose eyes are hollow and dead, and body seemingly decaying due to the lack of effort on her part to take care of herself, making her not too dissimilar to that of a corpse. Though, thankfully Agustine was there to help her through her hardship, Casita can only hope he takes care of himself as well.

With Pepa, Casita would let her storm through its halls, just letting her grief and rage out, letting the woman destroy any tiles or things with her lightning and wind if it meant she didn’t bottle her emotion up. So she wouldn’t crumble under the guilt and sorrow that her sister fell victim to.

Everything in its halls are replaceable, the family isn’t.

Felix in its opinion was handling his sorrow the ‘best’. He was trying to be productive, constantly going on patrol with the other men. Checking every corner of the Encanto to make sure it is safe, and generally helping strengthen the Encanto’s defenses. But on the other hand, he was spending less and less time in the house, in turn making Pepa worse as there was no one there to help calm her down.

And then there were the kids. Casita didn’t know where to begin with them all. Camilo and Mirabel were easier to handle, while they were sad, a playful distraction was enough to get their minds off of their sadness. Although this method only works with Camilo most of the time while Mirabel only reacts a couple of times, she was unfortunately too wrapped up in her own head to respond to it most of the time.

Luisa had been crying nonstop and had barricaded herself in her room, everyone had tried to get in, to try and comfort her but she had wanted to be alone, even placing a large rock in front of the door so that even Casita couldn't get in. But it had a lot of tricks up its walls, so it had been putting a glass of water next to the crying girl to hydrate herself. She’ll come out on her own when she’s ready, she always does.

And finally Dolores… Out of everyone in the house, she would be the one who takes it the hardest. She was very close to the two of them after all. Isabela her self-proclaimed twin and rival, Bruno her favorite person. And she was dealing with her sadness in the worst way possible. Her mood was all over the place, sometimes she was sad, sometimes she went timid, and sometimes she wasn’t responsive at all. But most of the time she was angry.

Very, very angry.

Many times now, Dolores had snapped at everybody. It doesn’t matter what they did, it just seemed to set her off. She had even yelled at one point, and she never yells as it hurts her ears. Even her partners weren’t safe from her wrath. Though thankfully none of the other kids was ever under her crossfire. But sooner or later, she’ll or someone else will get hurt.

Casita doesn’t know where all the rage comes from. Though it had been alive for years, human emotions and motives still escape it. Finding itself confused whenever they do something that doesn’t align with what they normally do. Like Dolores right now.

So Casita is oblivious to how to help her.

Sometimes, it wishes that Lord Arceus gave it some semblance of a guide to help it traverse through this confusing time. It wishes to do more for the family from just the day to day mundane task. Casita had grown to genuinely love this family, beyond the artificial bonds that Lord Arceus had included in its creation. It doesn’t want to see them sad like this, destroying themselves like this. All of them are falling apart, and through all the chaotic mess of emotions they were feeding it, it feels itself growing weaker and weaker by the day. Experiencing so many emotions through their connections at the same time was… Tiring.

But it was just a house that was born from Lord Arceus' will. It was not designed to handle such heavy emotion. But that begs the question…

What can it do?

#Encanto #encanto au #Lost Constellation Au #Side Story #set before the main story #casita #mirabel madrigal #julieta madrigal #agustin madrigal #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #dolores madrigal #camilo madrigal #abuela alma madrigal #luisa madrigal #pokemon au

[incorrectmadrigalfamilyquotes]

Isabela: I'm so fucking clumsy today. I keep bumping into things. I have so many bruises, it's not even funny.

Mirabel and Camilo, who broke into Isabela's room in the middle of the night, to move all her furniture exactly two inches to the left: Damn. That's wild.

#does isabela even have furniture #oh wait forgot about the statues(??) she has of herself for a hot minute #but fr though does she even have a cabinet?? #a wardrobe?? #for someone so used to looking after her vanity she sure is frugal when it comes to room decor #camilo best madrigal #madrigal family #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #camilo madrigal #encanto #encanto incorrect quotes #family bonding? #incorrect quotes #encanto isabela #encanto mirabel #encanto camilo #chaos twins

[lariskapargitay]

Random head canons for Encanto, mainly Pepa and Félix bc they are : the best

Félix was a farmers son who sold his families wares at the market. He was always jokingly playful and flirty and charming with everyone who came to his stand, including Alma (part of the reason why she loved him and was 1000% on board with him getting together with Pepa).

Pepa tried to pretend like she wasn’t interested and tried to pretend that his persistent flirting annoyed her but a rainbow would always come out at first when he turned on the charm, and then it started getting hot and humid out when he upped the flirting

The first few times Félix came over Casita kept them a respectable distance apart, not letting them disappear into a room by themselves without being properly chaperoned… Casita acted like an over protective father, so, the next time Félix came over that’s exactly what he treated it as. Calling it, ‘Señor’, being overly respectful and prudish, shaking whatever the house equivalent of a hand is… Eventually, like he always does, he won over Casita as well

They weren’t each others firsts, but they were each others best

Pepa always liked stocky buff guys. It makes her feel protected

One of the only times Félix FLIPPED on Alma is when something was going wrong with Dolores’ birth and Pepa was FREAKING out and flooding the valley because of how terrified and emotional and scared she and Alma told her to calm down and get rid of the clouds

The second time is at Dolores’ gift ceremony. Instead of a fun go lucky time like theirs and Isabela’s, Dolores started SCREAMING and covering her ears and crying and Alma told the crying scared five year old and her panicked mother they were embarrassing the family

Bruno was supposed to walk Pepa down the aisle but after the incident she told him to leave so Alma walked her down instead. Alma also walked Julieta down the aisle when she married three years later

Pepa and Félix are considered the best dancers in the family

One of the big reasons Isabel doesn’t like Mariano is he’s way too touchy feely and overly affectionate, and she grew up idolizing the soft gentleness romance of her parents. Dolores on the other hand sees how affectionate and physical her parents are and she wants that so bad. Mariano is exactly that.

Their love language is OBVIOUSLY physical touch

Pepa always makes sure that she tells her children she loves them, and makes sure to hug them and kiss them a LOT bc she knows what it’s like to grow up with a mom who wasn’t all that physical with you

Alma hated looking into her and Bruno’s eyes when they were younger, and even now she isn’t a fan of looking at them. Pepa and Bruno always used to think it was just her being distant until they realized they had their fathers eyes and even after all this time it hurts to look at them and see Pedro

Whenever Isabel would be favored and treated special Pepa would make sure Dolores and her would have a special day out, just the two of them.

She was never jealous of Julieta, but she was jealous (and mad) how her sisters kids seemed to be favored by Alma over her own

Félix isn’t super close to Camilo, but the SECOND he overhears someone talking shit on his child because they identify as they/them, he is whipping everybody’s ass and defending tf out of Camilo.

They have had sex on every single inch of their room and on every piece of furniture

#encanto #i love pepa #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #la familia madrigal #encanto pepa #félix x pepa #pepa headcanon

[originalwinnercheesecake]

Encanto Heacannons

Butterflies where Pedro’s favorite animals

Luisa’s favorite animals are unicorns and kittens. she hangs motivational pictures of them up in her gym/room for when she is working out.

Isabela does not actually have “effortlessly perfect hair or skin”. she actually has a huge array of cosmetics she uses to keep up her image, and has to wake up hours before everyone else to make sure she get the bathroom for a long enough time to apply them.

Alma has not gotten a full night of sound sleep since she became a mother. Her houses noise level has not been the reason in many years.

Agustin’s birth family own a small orchard where they make and sell jars of jam and honey. Agustin has had bad luck with bee keeping his entire life, but honey is one of Julieta’s favorite cooking ingredients, so anytime she is out Agustin goes right out to get her more fresh.

Pepa was very literally walking on clouds for 2 straight weeks after the first time Felix told her he loved her.

Antonio has always loved animals since before he could walk, and even before getting his gift always drew pictures of himself with Toucan wings or the whiskers and tail or a jaguar.

Dolores is the family bookworm. Books don’t make noise and reading a good one can help her tune out how loud everything/everyone sound. In addition to fur-lind (sound proof) walls the middle of her room is set up like a library,with rows of shelves, many books, and lounge furniture for her to sit and read in.

whenever Mirabel does her sewing or embroidery she will tilt her head a bit to the right, and stick the tip of her tung out the left corner of her mouth. She doesn’t mean to do this, its just something that she does automatically. When her neck starts to ach she takes it as a sign to put down what she is working on, and find something else to do for a little bit.

 Camilo cannot stay still for 2 minutes, that is just something he cannot do. He will inevitably start to shake his knees or fidget with his hands. His body language does not change when he changes. This is what makes it easy for Felix and other members of the family to recognize Camilo even when he is pretending to be someone else.

When they both shared the nursery Antonio would sleep in Mirabel’s bed anytime he had trouble sleeping. In the week leading up to his ceremony he asked Mirabel if she would move into his new room with him so she could still be around on nights he cannot sleep. She was really sad wen she had to tell him no (Camilo had  originally offered to share his new room with her when her door disintegrated) and explained to him that his new room would be designed specifically for him and for honing his gift. After this is when she started making the stuffed jaguar

Mirabel wears glasses because she is farsighted (her vision is stronger from a distance than up close). Alma and Bruno have similar problems with their vision and both used to wear glasses. Alma lost hers while fleeing from the soldiers, and in her grief lumped “perfect vision” in with her old home, former city, husband, and happiness as “one more thing they took from me”. Bruno smashed his glasses himself once in a fit of hatred for his powers and what they made his life into.

#Encanto #the Madrigals #Madrigal family #Alma Madrigal #Abulitia #Julieta Madrigal #Agustin Madrigal #Pepa Madrigal #Felix Madrigal #bruno madrigal #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #luisa magridal #camilo madrigal #mirabel madrigal #antonio madrigal #pedro madrigal

[thefamilymadrigal]

room headcanons and ideas

-rooms can enhance, help train, or help dull the gifts of the madrigals through the environment they provide. antonio's room full of animals, isabela's nearly empty but plant-receptive canvas--those allow antonio to use his gift then and there, allow isabela to practice her gift constantly. luisa's room concepts included weights, training areas/obstacle courses, etc, as well as the idea of having an amusement park to let her relax, which reads to me as both training and allowing her to rest her gift.

room ideas:

julieta--an expansive, ever-growing herb and spice garden, a cottage nestled into the greenery. the space is bounded by mountainous, craggy rocks in an impenetrable wall. the air is very warm, humid, like a greenhouse, with light falling indiscriminately(there's no visible source. it also never turns off.) the cottage is made of heavy stone and thick, robust wood, filled with containers, compartments, bottles, and tools for harvesting her garden (as well as, of course, cooking utensils, but--the production notes state that she is the tie between food and magical healing, and that herbs represent that.)

pepa--a normal house at first glance, though the walls and furniture bear imagery of various weather phenomena. it is completely weatherproof, any damage lighting or water could do does not apply. rooms can change their order(not the contents) based on her mood--a door in the kitchen may lead to the living room one moment, to the bathroom the next. it's filled with weather instruments (weathervanes, barometers, thermometers, rain gauges, anemometers, etc) built into the furniture or with their own stands. it has specifically a cozy, domestic vibe--a place pepa does not need to worry about destroying.

bruno--the tower grew over the years; originally it was a small set of stairs to a heavily decorated and carved vision cave, with insets in the walls for vision storage, and the entrance was only a step or two above the floor, with sand running along the edges of the room. the entire room was perfectly circular and had large markings on the ground floor to demonstrate where to put items for a vision ritual(the walls grew more jagged and uneven with time.) visions in his vision cave are clearer and easier to see because the foci are built into the room.

dolores--a meditative rock/sand garden. all surfaces besides sand are solid and magically (mostly) non-conductive to sound (its dead silent for everyone else, for dolores it's what 'normal on the quiet side' would be.) anyone who makes sound other than her cannot hear it in her room, though she can. if she is inside the room no outside sounds can enter unless she wants to hear. there are no organic items--any trees are dead wood shaped as trees, without leaves, and so on. there are a variety of repetitive sound-makers, such as metronomes, waterwheels and sōzu/drinky-birds, even a controlled net of bells, as well as windchimes if she wants to train her exposure to unpredictable sound in a controllable environment. the walls hold archives of information she actually wants to remember.

--OR; a maze-like merge of different locations and landscapes, complete with changing terrain. the room helps her distinguish and hone her sound specialization--the sound of grassy or tiled or cobbled floors, sound bouncing off walls or whistling through window slats, etc. the room has low, indiscriminate lighting and can dim to pitch dark; her hearing makes her better at navigating it than anyone else.

luisa--a wide-open expanse of warm, smooth stone, with clouds drifting along the surface. the clouds are tangible and fluffy, and eventually form the walls of the room. there are sunken coliseum-like areas holding weights or an interactive model of the physical features of the encanto(synced to the outside; she can observe the town and see what changes someone may expect, or how the river is doing or etc.) or a living area. like juileta's room, the light never goes out. any structure of the room is indestructible and cannot be moved unless you are intending to move it--luisa can be as careless as she wants.

camilo--an escher-esque gravity defying mixture of a theatre, dressing room, and tailor's shop. marionettes stationed everywhere, with the clothes/musculature/skeletal dimensions of recent shifts. doorways, walls, furniture(missing the actual doors) all covered in murals and carvings of people's poses, facial expressions, and common items associated w/ others. scattered measuring tape and calipers and mirrors and so on. the entire place shifts and moves constantly; he's the only one who knows where to sleep.

--OR; an exact replica of Casita but reversed from his door; it gets less accurate or shifts to reflect whoever he shifts into(ex. if he's dolores all the floors have carpet, if he's isabela the whole place is overgrown). the area outside Casita's reach is void(the exception is if he shifts into pepa, then the outside reflects his mood in the weather). each of the other rooms shows all the features he remembers--and each room's mirror shows his best approximation/his closest shift into that person's form. if he's thinking about someone in particular, an illusion of them will move through the room demonstrating the movements he remembers.

#encanto #encanto fanart #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #bruno madrigal #dolores madrigal #luisa madrigal #camilo madrigal #the madrigals #encanto headcanons #my writing #just some ideas on possible room configurations

[lizzylucky]

So I finally gave in and bought Encanto's Three Sisters book. (it wasn't even $10 if anyone was thinking about it)

And OH MY GOSH IT'S SO CUTE!!

I'm not even half done reading it, but there are already so many little things it talks about that aren't obvious (at least to me) from watching the movie.

For example, it clarifies that Antonio is just SO shy and quiet all the time, up until he gets his gift. All three sisters have thoughts regarding this that sum up to the idea that receiving your gift in the Madrigal family just helps you to be *more* yourself, and believe it helped Antonio open up.

Mirabel, much more often, and in thought, feels remorseful about not having a gift. Isabela views recieving your gift as a sort of qualifier for being a Madrigal, like you can't truly be an integrated member of the family until you have yours, but even then counts Mirabel as an exception.

And, man, I can't even TELL you... Poor Luisa!!! She's so busy and stressed and anxious all the time!!! During Antonio's day, she's sent to set up fireworks around back, but she has to clear the area of brush and leaves first, and then some of the foliage needs trimming, and she's spending the entire afternoon between chores and taking people's wagons and donkeys to the side of the house for the event, and she has to bring in seating and set up furniture and decorations, and Abuela TOLD her to put the piano in the courtyard, and THEN told her to take it upstairs, and she is literally just busy, busy, busy until her Mother calls her for the start of Antonio's ceremony, feeling out of the blue because Luisa didn't realize how much time had passed through all that. Two or three times she thought maybe someone wanted a hug and then actually it was another chore or a prank or something and she's just so disappointed.

Not to mention the following day; reroute the river, fix the leaning house, move the church to the left, actually back to the right, now find the donkeys... Of course we know those already, but then one of the donkeys literally pees on her shoe, and apparently someone wanted the plaza repaved and Alma VOLUNTEERS Luisa without the poor girl even being there for it.... Just give this girl a break and a hug! It's all she wants!

(She literally has the best hugs, this isn't even a theory, she mentions it like twice just to this point 😭)

Also, can I just mention the fact that Isabela made a daisy chain necklace for Mirabel on her 5th birthday? And a little flower crown for Luisa on hers, too, because she was stressed out?

Furthermore, Isa isn't portrayed quite so stuck-up as she appears in the first half of the movie. I'd like to think that this is just a matter of perspective and none of what we see her as is really how she is, because she's just so nervous and stressed... Like, she loves her sisters! But she genuinely feels so nervous about how her Abuela sees her, and to no particular fault she just thinks that the things Mirabel goes on about, like cracks in Casita's walls, are made up, and she even envies how much more useful a gift like super strength is compared to her own, or how much less would be expected of her if she simply didn't have a gift.

Really, she does love her family! She wanted to comfort Mirabel when Abuela went to see the nonexistent cracks in the courtyard, but was scared that it would be misinterpreted and she would be judged harshly for it. Yes she cares very much about her image, even turning down a messier treat made by Julieta in order to keep her dress clean, but she does this because she was the first grandchild and knows that Abuela expects her to be the perfect forefront image of the family, something that is stressed all the time.

This isn't even the half of it, and I've not even *read* the half of it! I'm telling you, there are so many new details that the book adds to what we know of the characters and I love how much more depth it provides with a simple change in perspective. I could just go on and on, really.

#small rant #Encanto #three sisters #Madrigals #Mirabel #Isabela #Luisa #Julieta #Abuela #Alma #Antonio #Those are just the characters I mentioned in the post #I think #Luisa just wants to hug everybody #Isabela is half terrified of her grandmother I mean seriously she's so nervous about every interaction between Alma and literally anyone #Mirabel is just trying so hard to be important #she literally believes that she had to earn her place as a madrigal #i love how much this book makes me thing #and all the possible interpretations it offers #I genuinely just really love the characters and i enjoy learning things about them #i really hope nothing i'm doing or saying is in any way offensive #I know those of us who are not columbian can appropriate the culture be it unintentional or otherwise #or that we find ways to relate to characters and then use that to disregard whatever we're meant ro be seeing in them #please twll me if i'm doing that #i just really love these girls #they're all trying so hard and deserve so much love and understanding #i just want ALL the madrigals to grow as a family unit and feel accepted and be happier and more comfortable communicating #i love them your honour

[tsukopathe]

A headcanon about Encanto's doors...

(I not often write text or share headcanons, but when I like a movie, I LIKE A MOVIE) (I put it there as, maybe, I'll illustrate some scenes my theory implies) (and share it here) (Tumblr is an adorable fan platform right ?) (right?)

I’ll try to be short, and with all the passion I have for Encanto, it will be a harsh task…

(Quick disclaim, I’m native tongue french and may « sound weird », sorry)

There is a seriously-starting-of-a-theory that came while paying close attention to snapshots (I’m already at the stage of pausing the film frantically ^^). That’s the door system that leaves me with a lot of unanswered questions!

THE DOOR THEORY THEN! Short trailer: the plan. (I‘m not good at clickbait…)

Openly owing a close passion to these silent but so-much-talkative doors, there was data to necessarily gather, and to be honest I STRUGGLED to ensure to have a correct answer. Maybe it was already certified somewhere in the fanbase: how are arranged the casita’s occupiers ??

I mean: it seems organized… there seems to have rules; we’ll back to it later

THE PLAN, Taking Abuela’s door as middle reference we have, from left to right :

-Left wall : The secret entrance to Bruno’s hideout/Dolores/Camilio/Antonio.

-Middle wall : Pepa/ceremonies pictures/Abuela/julieta

-Further in the right corner, upper stairs: Bruno.

-Right wall : Luisa/furniture/Isabela.

-‘Behind’ wall : Kid’s room.

(So this left wall shall have space for 4 entrances locations, let’s summarize. The asymmetry is not what disturbs me. Casita seems indeed very quirky and there is nothing against this odd placement) (It is canon, thanks to Jared Bush, that the house is even able to expand if needed)

Now what does it tells us about Casita. First, I had this theory:

-THE DOOR THEORY : genealogic roots

Family tree is also respected by the doors. In fact, even fanarts made by villagers respects the pattern, Pepa’s children are settled on her left, Julieta’s daughters are on the right wall.

This simple statement implies that, even if we don’t see it clearly during the movie, the staircase shoooould build itself differently to lead to the correct door, on each ceremony? (Or maybe on request? Talk about home automation, GOOGLE HOOOME) We see stairs rise once [9’51], aiming Antonio’s door, and, in fact, I believe it would not be its forever place.

But I rewatched, to be sure, the other shown ceremony in the film: Mirabel’s one. My « family rule » would be approved if stairs leaded to the right. I carefully dissected each frame of the intro’s Mirabel’s ceremony [3’40] and the parallel with Antonio’s ceremony [18’40].

First, not conclusive. Same angle, same decor, not enough of the stairs to see a curve, same scene as Antonio’s. Did not help.

…And the final seconds to check, ARGH.

All got destroyed with two camera point of view that mad my entire blueprint COLLAPSE.

[19’04] First the stairs curved the same, the ceremony bring her to the left wall.

The Pepa’s wall, you quickly run to, drinking all my words? Don’t you feel something is MISSING here? [19’21] We clearly see the pictures next Abuela’s door, but NO PEPA’S DOOR.

Pepa’s ceremony happened of course decades before and SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALREADY THERE, but isn’t. (Artistic or poetic licence does not have the right to exist, in a theorist mind… EVERYTHING MUST BE EXPLAINED!)

So: the very same space where Mirabel failed is now claimed for Antonio’s room.

In order to let you in the same despair as me at the time, I shall let your brain cells endure this huge information, and build many sub-theories that are now poping from everywhere.

I’ll be generous and only keep you suffering some seconds until the brand new turnaround theory I kept, and it’s even more fabulous than a Hogwarts stupid moving staircase.

-THE ULTIMATE DOOR THEORY : All things considered, Family changes > doors moves.

I dump the stairs theory. (or it’s still a power Casita has but not while gift ceremony strict… ceremonial) After all, after Mirabel’s ceremony, there is a blank wall. Doors are just pieces of wood to this house. (IRL it does not work, an architect PLAN holes for doors and windows. This must be clarified, as even Sims videogames don’t care at all ^^)

So, if each ceremony always happens HERE, the door might be “distributed” anywhere its place is, afterwards!

And that is properly certified by Bruno’s room that, on the intro, was supposed to be JUST between his sisters’s ones: where is now Abuela’s one.

(No clue to know each wall this ceremony took place, even the stairs aren’t visible. Version one would be the ceremony was on this common left wall, Alma’s door still in the middle. Version 2 would be this first ceremony was private, no guests, no fuss, no idea what’s happening with these 3 doors inexplicably glowing, it could have been out of the “regular” ceremony place? already middle wall ??)

(Anyway, clearly, the triplets’s doors changed place, after that)

But don’t conclude too fast, the-one-we-don’t-talk-about have not been « removed » from family middle-wall the day he « ran away », 10 years prior to the film! I take as proof that, after the Mirabel’s targeted prediction, he already goes downstairs the same stairs Mirabel’s climbed to do her Indiana Jone’s adventure.

(Who cries when Bruno looks back at the door? I don’t cry. I’m a growth pers-naaah!!! ç__ç)

Even before he ran away, he was apart from the family. That leads to many questions, such as, of course, WHY, but that could be another investigation. (My thought about this is that his premonitions were enough to have him withdraw into himself, he didnt get a chance to start a family, was growing old, and purposefully left is door placement to the active core of the family. Vast topic. So much more maybes…)

MY THOUGHTS (headcanons)

-At the beginning of Casita, there was only Abuela’s room. (Never shown, non-canon assertion) (As her room seems to reach the windows where the candle stands _ note she might have two floors_, maybe the very same middle one)

-During triplet’s ceremony, either the doors were in the ceremony traditional place, either Abuela’s door might have been put elsewhere, leaving the middle wall free, for years (front wall because, the triplets must have been the centre of magic for years. Personal opinion I said. Triplets were Alma’s pride and centre of attention, so Casita’s attention too)

-As the first grand-kids arrived, doors moved to keep each branch of the tree together. After all, even casita could not foresee how many kids will come next (what an accurate pregnancy test!): at each birth, more precisely at each ceremony, doors changed address, if space is needed.

-Maybe for a while, Bruno had some room reserved, in case he found a pretender not fleeing at his disastrous predictions.

-(Then: Bruno officially pouts on the attic)

-Before Mirabel failed, Antonio wasn’t born yet and it’s possible that “the biggest wall” was dedicated at Julieta’s family, that had 3 daughters, Pepa had only 2 children.

-(Or, at the contrary, Bruno was still a “possible branch”, and was at the left, on the end, after the two Pepa’s children)

-(Or still between his sister’s door)

-10 years ago, just as Mirabel didn’t get her door, maybe the doors were laid out differently, there is not enough clues. Were grandchild‘s obtained doors spread around, differently?

-If achieved, Mirabel’s door would have relocated near her sister’s door. (Whatever side had Julieta)

-Coming soon, 5 little doors will have to find a room near Dolores’s, if Mariano Guzmán (thank you wikipedia) matches ^^. That means surely new floor this time.

And what is SURELY the liveliest, about the door being transportable, is imagine little scenes like; (and those will be shortly drawn, I have them stuck in head ^^)

Kids getting each other’s angry, and asking Casita to get their door “drove apart”;

Or Pepa transporting door herself, “nobody enters, you VEXED ME BRUNO!”

Huge and catastrophic mistakes _a Camilio spying the wrong place, a Bruno frightening the wrong priest_ would mean the door would be put “on a corner”, punished on his faaaar bedroom ;

Dolores making a scene as Camilio moves her door away from her mom’s ^^;

Preparing a birth that changes the blueprint would be little events, leading to some “moving doors” festivities;

Not fully awake kiddos mistaking doors as they didn’t get accustomed to new placement ^^;

If Bruno’s displacements, that are somehow “disgraces”, were done in silence, “we don’t talk about Bruno’s once again having to move his door”;

My humble opinion is that he might be a sugar-uncle that accepted, even suggested, to offer them a better placement, so it still would be a special occasion to feast, even if villagers mumbles on his back;

Or maybe door visibility was also a way triplets and grandchildren assumed their “preferential ranks”, that broke their mental health =__=;

Highlighting Abuela’s door on the middle place, during Bruno tendency to isolate, would be a way to STILL show Madrigal strength.

___That’s all for my doors theories!

This theory makes Casita even more… ALIVE! Could you believe this magic can be puzzled around, at will? Shall the staircase change place anyway? Will Bruno ask for a more exposed door after the movie, now he feels accepted?

What do you think? Didn’t it bring you to many other intriguing questions? ^^

PS : Three dismissed theories, related to the hole in the wall :

A very far-fetched sub-theory would be that, the hole in the wall (where Bruno’s hide-out begins) is in fact able to reach kind of Mirabel’s room, or at least her function in the family: repairing Casita’s foundations. This place is unreachable to casita too, as it didn’t respond to Mirabel calls for help : a private place, such as Bruno’s sands. At least, this breach is a visual hint of the instability of Casita’s magic when her door failed. A backstage room (Disneyland style). Interesting, but hardly convincing.

The freerun scene takes place behind the magical rooms, and seems to follow the plan (smashing on Pepas wall at the right bend, for example), and depicts an upstairs collapsed floor that seems to match “attic”, where Bruno’s room just happened to also sand-collapse. (He seemed unaware that this hole _new to his knowledge _ was not a dangerous fall) This backstage area could be attached/bounded to near room’s conditions: A non-magical version of the building state of preservation.

Or the behinf the frame wall crack was an already knew secret place for the triplets, hid and unfound by the next generation, already furnished by them 3. (So much furniture could not have disappeared/being transported during 10 years without getting noticed) Bruno ran quickly here knowing it was ready to hide, as he couldn’t escape the village. (sub theory : Julieta that spends a lot of time near kitchen/dining place shall have at least hear snores, or music from the gramophone, from time to time… not unsuspecting at all of “who ‘in the know’ could hide there… haaard gueeeess. Pepa is here and I’m not hiding… ^^”)

PS2 :

“being brief” is no compatible with “talking about Encanto”. I’m sorry ^^

#encanto #encanto disney #encanto theory #encanto theories #madrigal #madrigal theories #encanto doors #spoilers #spoilers obviously #encanto ceremony #bruno #julieta #pepa #madrigal family #headcanon #encanto headcanons #pavé #long text #jared bush #jared bush am i right

[atypicalacademic]

Hawke Estate HCs

Milena Hawke

Brilliant reds and rich maroons, generous with polished, intricate wooden finishes- Milena's not particularly picky with her decor, nor does she want to try anything out of the ordinary with her hard-earned estate, but she does have a fondness for luxury, and after all the battles she'd fought to be able to have it, she's positive that she deserves it.

The Hawke estate is always drenched in warm golden firelight, accentuating the stately reds, the fine make of her furniture, the dozens of trinkets displayed on the shelves and the cabinets and doubling as paperweights- all of Isabela's pirate spoils have a home here. So do all of Milena's swords, always in their places on the walls as a reminder of the lioness of Kirkwall's strength.

When she renovates the place she adds a wide courtyard to spar and train, and other than a cursory concern, she has a fairly hands off approach to upkeep. There is one thing she's particular about however- she absolutely decks out the place in tapestries and rugs brought in from all over Thedas, woven in various styles, some commissioned to local weavers, some of dwarven or Dalish make, and some offered as gifts upon her long-awaited return to Kirkwall after the mage-templar war. Some of them are her own creations too; Milena's a fine hand at the loom- she'd picked up the craft from her grandmother, and she defaults to it anytime she has solid ground beneath her feet. Her weaving room is barred from entry to anyone but herself and Isabela (though she makes frequent gifts of her creations), and the slow, calm nature of the hobby was a comfort especially while she was taking dragon's blood and training as a reaver, it helped her keep the inevitable reaver-rage at bay.

Olivia Hawke

Ethereal, princess-y opulence, fabrics as soft as spun sugar, gentle candlelight just enough to illuminate without taking away from the delicate pastel paints and jewels she'd painstakingly imported from Orlais. In fact, a lot of her commissioned artisans were at least of Orlesian tutelage, if not origin- and the sheer scale of her estate set quite a trend throughout Hightown. Lavender is her favorite shade, and it permeates through every corner of her estate, from the extensive wardrobe arranged with custom made fashions to match her incredibly exacting standards, to the flowers set out in the marble vases that decorated nearly every surface.

Olivia's home is her canvas and her theatre- she pours her heart and her suppressed grief into crafting a whimsical, dreamlike world into which she and anyone who comes seeking her could disappear into, forgetting the endless woes of the rest of the world, and the burdens of being Champion. To that end she hosts frequent soirees where the charming hostess entertains all of Hightown with her voice and her wit, even though her days of busking at the Hanged Man for coin were behind her. The estate is also one of the first things she'd cared enough to protect- and woe betide anyone, even Anders, the love of her life, who props their feet up on her couch.

The basement she repurposes for her own magical experiments- though the colors there are deeper- so the bloodstains won't show. And no, magical experiments is not a euphemism- she has a seperate chamber for her soft-swap orgies, as one does in civilized society.

Maxim Hawke

Wooden accents so brown they might as well be ebony and a touch of white, elaborate candle stands and chandeliers at least a decade out of style, knick-knacks fished from antique stores from the collectors of a city obsessed with obsession, Maxim only minimally changed the estate as it had been before their time- opting for the quaint, and more importantly, offering his mother what comfort she can derive by being in her childhood home.

The green came with the rain, and he often let it grow unless the help alerted that it posed a threat- and with Merrill's green thumb came the flowers, creeping over the windowsills, native orchids and jasmines and daisies winding up the archways, always a darker green from the dim light of the estate within. The library is his favorite place, his haunt, the neighbors call it- littered with half-written notes and pages from old journals and frenzied poetry. Bodahn and Sandal attempted to clear that mess once- before deciding against it. His library is open to whoever needs it, however, Maxim is nothing if not giving.

He's not one for large, formal banquets, though he doesn't turn anyone away from his doors. Late at night, one could hear the haunting melody of his violin, sometimes accompanied by Orana's lute when she feels like it- it all gives the estate a look of artful disrepair, fortified with just enough magic to remain artful, and he thinks, and enough people agree privately, that it has a wild beauty of its own. He too, has a basement for magical experiments- only this time, it really is a euphemism.

Viktor Hawke

Simple, cozy, the floors sparkling clean and the windows wide-open- more fabric accent than wood, tiny potted plants lining each windowsill, Viktor's a domestic man, and he'd loathe to take on the upkeep of a mansion he couldn't see to himself, or a life too big for him to grasp at the edges. His tastes are still of Lothering, and you could see touches of Ferelden everywhere. He'd rather have a home that is warm than a house that's grand, and with all the time he spends stress-cleaning, and doing the laundry, the dwarves and Orana have little to do around the house.

He sets up many corners into comfy little nooks, propped with pillows and rugs and cushions, and in some rooms he eschews furniture entirely to turn into giant pillow-forts when his friends come to visit. Fenris and Dahlia have their own rooms, though they usually come around to puppy-pile in his bed anyway.

At home, Vicky spends most of his time in the kitchens or the gardens- the scent of cooking or baking nearly always hangs about the air, and often he ventures down to other parts of town to distribute treats to the children. He'd missed gardening so much from back home, and now he fills it with buttercups and daisies and all kinds of herbs required for cooking. Neighbors in Hightown sometimes lament that the Champion lets all that space go to waste, but there's not a day, even after Leandra's death, that that house lies empty or devoid of laughter, animated by barbecues and spontaneous picnics.

Seraphina Hawke

Black and gold, imposing and ostentatious, tall ceilings and a combination of red and white roses, never too much, never too little, when Seraphina renovated the mansion, she wanted to build not a home, not a house, but a fortress, a definitive proof she can feel and touch that she has earned back her title, she's reinvented herself that she need never go back to Lowtown and Gamlen and cheap drinks and starvation ever again.

The estate was meant to be her grand debut, her announcement to the social and political field that she is, in fact, intending to run for the office that magic had denied the Amells over two decades ago. The golden accents themselves are of dwarven make, some of them imported from Orzammar, from a few contacts from the Merchant's guild that Varric set her up with. Of her most prized possessions is a portrait gifted to her in an extension of diplomatic friendship from Queen Anora and Prince-Consort Leonard of Ferelden, upon her assuming office as the Viscountess of Kirkwall. Another is a decorated lyrium-laced shield gifted by the templar order, in honor of both her support and her own skills as a warrior of that specialization.

To the older members of the aristocracy her dinners and dances, and not to mention, her impeccable cellar, often evoke the golden days of her grandfather, Lord Aristide Amell. So it's truly at night that the otherwise uninviting mansion comes alive, lit up like the night sky with a thousand candles, and chandeliers, political favors and gold changing hands in hushes and whispers to cement the position of the most powerful political player in the Free Marches.

#owo #dragon age #hawke #milena hawke #olivia hawke #maxim hawke #viktor hawke #seraphina hawke

[themountainsays]

I gave you soul mate angst and you made it even worse, that is INCREDIBLE. I love you platonically and this is amazing.

Re: Mariano, I’m thinking something similar to your thought process; he maybe saw Dolores and Isabela at the same time helping around town and saw color, which Abuela pounced on as a connection point even though Isabela saw color long before she met him. Meanwhile, Dolores saw color when she saw Mariano and ends up in one of two thoughts:

1. The simple angst solution, Mariano is her soul mate but she isn’t, or at least that’s what she believes for a long time even though it isn’t true.

2. The one were poor Isabela after a year or two of the facade breaks because this is just too much and she has to tell SOMEONE the truth so she tells Dolores everything, because their suffering is at least incredibly similar if not exactly the same. Regardless of Dolores’ reaction, Isabela makes her swear not to tell a soul, ESPECIALLY Mirabel—who is starting to get old enough to ask questions.

Omg yes let's being Dolores into this mess i love her so much.

Dolores creates the kind of situation where you're better off telling her your secrets yourself than letting her find out on her own, because just because she heard something doesn't mean she has all the information and tools to interpret it correctly and she may assume the worst. Maybe you really WERE moving furniture with your lady neighbor while your wife was out of town and you'd hate it if this young Madrigal girl were to judge you, so you tell her the truth.

I assume Isabela does the same - in one hand, she loves and trusts Dolores. I imagine she's very isolated from the rest of her family other than her grandmother but has a pretty good friendship with her cousin, so if she were to tell anyone, it'd be her. Dolores knows so many secrets, she has no energy or morals to judge anymore. And on the other, it's likely that Dolores already suspects something, and Isabela wouldn't want her to assume she's abusing her little sister or anything, so it's best to clear things up quickly. So when it becomes too much, and she's reaching her breaking point, she tells her everything. Dolores tells her the truth in return - that Mariano is her soulmate and she's been in love with him for a long time - even though Abuela threatened to punish her if she ever let anyone know.

Now that I'm thinking about it, the town is crazy small. It's likely Isabela and Dolores knew Mariano since they were little, like from school or church or just running into him on the streets. I want to cry thinking about 10 year old Isabela, Dolores and Mariano being forced into this horrible situation by Alma. Ten year old Dolores being told to abandon her soulmate and ten year old Isabela being preppared to marry this boy as soon as she's old enough. Pushed down the path to the chopping block like a slaughter sheep since she was a kid. Pruned like a bush from a young age, bred to be married off to someone that isn't for her, someone she doesn't love. And ten year old Mariano, who's just such a good boy, being lied to and manipulated just as much if not more than her, forced into this scheme simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I imagine Abuela may even tell Dolores not to talk to or spend any time with Mariano lest he realizes the lie and/or unhelpful feelings develop.

Man this is beginning to look like a telenovela. I wonder what Bruno thinks about all of this.

Though I'm glad to know Isabela and Dolores at least have each other ;-; it must be soothing to Isabela to know someone is on her side, that her cousin doesn't think she's gross or dangerous for being her sister's soulmate. She's gonna have a good cry on her shoulder and Dolores is gonna do the same.

AND THEN THERE'S ALSO MIRABEL. What's Mirabel's deal while this happens? Is she looking for her soulmate, thinking maybe they will love and accept her in a way her family doesn't? Does she hope they'll be someone to run away with? Someone to at least soothe the pain? You know, like Félix and Pepa. Abuela always chastised Pepa for her lack of control over her powers, but Félix is so delighted by her! He doesn't mind that she makes it rain all over - he probably likes the rain. I imagine Mirabel may think her soulmate will be someone like that, because Pepa and Félix ARE soulmates (as they obviously are in canon lol). So when she finds out her soulmate, who she thought would give her love, just seems to... hate her... well, ouch.

Are Mirabel and Isabela even in love, Anon? 👀 what do you think 👀

#madrigalcest #isamira #shipcest #isamira soulmate au #ahhhh #anon 😭

[tcthinecwnself-a]

Okay so, I wanna talk about Bruno’s room and just how??? BARREN it is? From what we can tell from the two rooms we do see, Casita provides furniture. Isabela has comfy chairs and sofas. Antonio gets a writing desk, a cabinet, hammocks and not to mention a WHOLE ASS TREEHOUSE

Let’s then, compare that to Bruno’s room.

(rest is under the cut bc it got long)

Unlike the threshold of Antonio’s room, Bruno has no furniture, no pictures. No fanfare at all for his room. I can imagine him walking in and being a bit disappointed that his doesn’t look like his sisters’. It’s very possible that we just don’t see the furniture, but the ART BOOK doesn’t even have picture of it.

Comparing this to just how lived in his little room looks like. Now, it’s very possible for Bruno to have taken his furniture & pictures with him, but the artbook states that everything is makeshift & handmade by Bruno

“There couldn’t be normal furniture ... the shelves were made from an old suitcase. His chair is a broken version of the same ones they have in the house”

He takes the broken stuff the family won’t need anymore, so we know this isn’t stuff from his tower.

And that??? BREAKS MY HEART. Bruno doesn’t have JACK in his original room. No writing desk, no comfy sofas, WHERE DOES THIS GUY SLEEP??!?!

Now. It’s very possible that Bruno’s room just looks like that because he’s not living there anymore. Because if we look at the stairs, there are pieces of the railing missing.

Not to mention that parts are literally crumbling / missing

This probably was once a rope bridge

And it seems like Bruno’s room, in his absence, is literally falling apart. And we see that when Mirabel’s in the vision cave.

So either Bruno just straight up didn’t have any furniture, or because of a decade of misuse. All of his furniture crumbled away or got buried by sand.

#{ but that's just a theory. A GAME - #Bruno | headcanons | #;meta tag #long post

[thelostmadrigals]

⌛🫓🦋🔥≻|| Price We Pay For Family  ||≺🔥🦋🫓⌛

Chapter 15: Understanding The Damage

Mirabel didn’t quite know how things had been expected to go and so, it felt like she was treading on eggshells at breakfast after Dolores poked her out of the bed of the her room that they were sharing since she wasn’t willing to bunk with Isabela, Fuega wasn’t allowed sleepovers and she wasn’t sure if Luisa wanted her to share and Dolores had offered first.

Camila and Elena had taken the Nursery. It a bed that had used to be her youngest Primo’s and they found a spare since one look into Bruno’s room had Camila walk the other way and ask to share with her daughter.

Mirabel didn’t know what was in there beyond a series of steps Camila wasn’t willing to walk up and a ton of sand. Mirabel didn’t press and happily helped her Tia and Elena settle in for the night, talking to the baby and hoping that her prima shadow didn’t sneak out to the kitchens but it turns out, with a magic house they had better chances and Elena was thrilled with watching the furniture move.

Sharing with Dolores had been… interesting. There was an edge of awkwardness between them that she didn’t know how to cross but they had gotten to sleep quickly so she didn’t have to worry about small talk and departed.

The amount of food at breakfast was a huge surprise; Camila was more than happy to pile her and Bruno’s plate as well as primo, Camilo who she decided not to speak to yet. Not since last night. Elena, as expected was thrilled and filled the pocket of her skirt as well as her plate before settling at the table.

Mirabel though knew that… despite how horrible yesterday had turned, she needed to spend more time with her papa first; to help smooth his open wounds and… she did want to know him. Tio Bruno’s stories were one thing but she knew that only went so far. They all knew it.

It did make her happy to see him still wearing his new waistcoat as they ate in silence. Mama looked…exhausted and no doubt an emotional mess from where she was sitting and barely looked at everyone and all Mirabel’s instincts were to go over there and give her a hug. But she couldn’t. Not yet, not in front of papi.

Mirabel did see her father and tio do some chores but Mirabel became distracted in helping Bruno with their things, getting another place to for Chico and Dane to rest and eat in town which led her to observe a donkey paddock beside the horse stables. At least, it could have been if there were any of the donkeys even there aside from a lone one.

Seeing a few strays along the street, Mirabel decided to help, leading them one at a time back towards the paddocks before she saw Luisa with a huge pile of donkeys in her arms.

“Mirabel?” Luisa blinked in surprise but set the animals down to roam their enclosure. “What are you doing here?”

Mirabel watched as the donkeys walked off and began to get back to their routine of eating. “I was putting Chico and Dante to the stables for the time being when I noticed the escapees.”

Luisa nodded, “Thank you.”

“You know, they would really fix the fence,” Mirabel noted, pointing to the fence where the latch had been worn away with overuse. Without the latch, the fence moved with the wind and looked like it would swing back with enough force. “How often does that happen?”

Luisa’s face was blank for an entire thirty seconds, enough for Mirabel to grow concerned.

“Luisa?”

“The fence is broken?”

“The latch….it’s worn. It’ll hold for a bit.” Mirabel spoke, voice slowing down in concern as Luisa blinked and looked at it. “Are you okay?”

“he…” Luisa frowned, taking a breath. “I’ve been rounding up donkeys for twelve years… and he never thought to—“

Mirabel reached forwards, “take a breath, now we know. Let’s get this fence sorted and celebrate never having to do this job again.”

“Luisa,” A townsman called, “ can you reroute the river?”

“Hey,” Mirabel called before Luisa could speak, “you have tools, do it yourself; we’re busy.”

The look that crossed the woman’s face and Luisa’s was priceless, Luisa looked more mortified but Mirabel tied the fence closed with a spare ribbon and grabbed Luisa’s hand.

“Come on, I think you need a break.”

“No, I... I got a lot of other things I need to do.”

“Such as?”

“The usual; the river, move some buildings and bridges, the donkeys…” the list went on but Mirabel’s face turned from confused to annoyed very quickly.

This town was…so dependent on Luisa it was horrifying. Where was the time Luisa needed to wind down for herself? To eat and to rest? Did no one else know how to do things for themselves here?

“Luisa, do you at least get paid for your serves?” Mirabel knew her inner Camila was coming out now. “Or take breaks for that matter?”

“It’s just chores, we don’t need to get paid.” Luisa brushed off, her ears turning pink. “I… I don’t have as much time as I used to but… it’s just part of my role here. I have to help.”

“Luisa, cleaning the house is a chore. Cleaning out stables is a chore. Keeping your cousin from sticking crayons up her nose is a chore.” Mirabel listed carefully, “Rounding up other people’s property and livestock, moving buildings, rerouting rivers is work.”

Luisa’s body was stiff and her eyes seemed to well-up but Mirabel didn’t stop.

“Work has to be paid otherwise it constitutes towards slave labour… and the fact you’ve said you’ve done it for at least twelve years means you’ve been doing it since you were a minor. Child labour. Also illegal.”

Luisa’s breath wavered, looking like a giant toddler that didn’t know what to so. Mirabel let out a breath, came forwards and hugged her around the middle. “Luisa… I’m sorry. You need to talk to Mama and Papa.”

Suddenly, the air was knocked out her lungs and limbs encased before she realised Luisa had pulled her into a hug so she tried her best to hug her back, her back popping which felt a little good but Mirabel felt a little bad at touching a delicate nerve; but she had to make Luisa aware of what was happening. This wasn’t healthy. She may not have known Luisa long but.. she loved her already and didn’t want her to suffer needlessly. There were other ways around; they wouldn’t be here forever so the town had to be ready for that, right?

“Luisa? Mirabel?” Papa’s voice made them jump. Luisa almost dropped her before their papa came into view. Luisa’s hand came to wipe her eyes but far too late. His eyebrows pulled in. “What happened?”

“Pa, were you aware that Luisa needs to talk to you?” Mirabel spoke, feeling Luisa tense up and give her a look but Mirabel gave her a stern one back enough for her sister to look away.

“Luisa?”

Luisa gently put her down, eyes welling up again before quite abruptly she broke down into tears. Mirabel wanted to stay and watch but she wanted this for Luisa; to talk to Papa alone. So, Mirabel headed away, padding away to find a locksmith.

Buying a locking latch, borrowing some tools and setting up shop at the fence gate and Luisa and Papa still weren’t done talking by the time she was done but she saw how Luisa’s frame had loosened up, Pa holding onto Luisa’s hands to comfort her as she spoke and Mirabel was happy to ward away townspeople that went looking for them.

Mirabel knew now, that there was a lot happening with the gifted family members. Maybe she could help them. Tia Pepa, from her distant figure by drops looking moody with rain, was her next target. She was a human woman with weather and rain powers, not a watering can.

Luisa was exhausted by the time she was done but Mirabel tugged both her family members up to their feet.

“Luisa, take today off.” Mirabel suggested, “Emotional catharsis needs physical rest. I know Abuela may stop you but just…stay strong for your own sense of self. It’s okay to be selfish when you need it.”

“Okay.” Luisa sniffled and nodded before they headed away. Between with her and Papa, they got to Casita without further interruption and as soon as she got past the door and watched Luisa go into her room, Mirabel let out a sigh of relief.

“I had no idea.” Papa swallowed. “It’s not fair…I should have stepped in sooner.”

Mirabel looked to him sadly. “It’s hard to see from the inside, Papi. I wasn’t. Camila had a huge impact on how I see the world and… right now, I can see exactly why Bruno took me away. If Luisa’s being overworked to that extreme, Tio Bruno being villainised for his visions… my little sister filled with so much anger and no outlet….how could I handle grow up being the Giftless one amongst it all?”

Papa’s lip wavered, eye twitching on her remark about being taken away but… he didn’t seem to deny it.

Mirabel shook her head. “I’m sorry.. I don’t mean that entirely. I’m… I’m sorry you’ve had to spend so long thinking the worst and… not getting to be there for me.”

Papa pulled her into a hug, so she melted into his chest. “I missed you so much, Hija.”

Mirabel rubbed his back, “I love you, Papi.”

It took a moment before a new idea came to mind, pulling back. “I… I know you missed my big day a few months ago. My quinceañera.”

Papa’s eyes fluttered regretfully. “I wish I could have been there.”

Mirabel nodded, “I know, I did too. But… I was thinking if you could give me the honour of a second quinceañera here, in Encanto with the whole family on my 16th birthday?” She knew it wasn’t the same and… it was expensive to have one, let alone two… but she wanted the rest of her family to have that experience with her. Of course, she knew this had to be discussed with Abuela and the rest of the family but… she could try, right?

Papa’s breath caught, eyes widening before he nodded quickly. “I… I would like that very much.”

---

Fuega sat in her little workshop once again, mulling quietly as she delicately continued her pyrography artwork of clouds and thunder, her fingers brushing over the surface to tan the pale wood before getting the darker lines in of the thunderbolt.

A soft knock echoed before Fuega frowned in annoyance. Too slow to be Elena since she used both hands to knock and also call. She would have preferred her; at least then she’d make her feel better about herself.

There was another knock before Fuega huffed and called to allow entry. Her eyebrows pulled in to see her older sister.

“What do you want?” She asked, her tone becoming neutral to mask her annoyance; she should be more polite but she felt the slither of anger flicker in her veins.

Mirabel stood by the door, her head tilting though her hands and dress looked to be a little dirty but Fuega didn’t care.

“I came to see you.”

“Why?”

Mirabel stepped in a little closer. “Why not? You’re my sister and I want to know you.”

“Oh. Go away.”

Mirabel smiled but shook her head. “Once I’m done, I will but not before I’ve finished talking.”

Fuega glowered but put her stuff away. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Mirabel was suddenly beside her. Her posture stiffened, her hands balling up on her marron skirt and her jaw clenched.

“Fuega, you don’t know me. I don’t know you. But what I have seen so far is that you’re an emotional girl and you’re very attached to Elena.”

Fuega glowered. “I’m not emotional.”

“It’s okay that you are, denying it is not.” Mirabel opted for. “You’ve been avoiding me, not wanting the present I made you and so far, I’m concerned on how you’re dealing with Mama and Papa’s situation.”

Fuega turned away with a scoff. “As if you could understand anything of what our parents are going through.”

“Then tell me, Fuega,” Mirabel begged softly.

Fuega could feel her anger resurface, her skin flushing with heat. Mirabel lent away but didn’t go. “No. You don’t deserve to know because you weren’t raised in this family!” Fuega snapped, her fists slamming into her desk, “You got to go away and live in happy-town and not have to worry! You got no gift and no duty to the Encanto! You got Tio Bruno and to experience travel and new places and all I got was to be your fucking replacement!”

Fire raged across her head and shoulders, hot tears streaming down her face, sizzling away before it reached her jaw.

“I hate this family and I hate you!” She slammed her fists down again, “You got it so lucky! Mami and Papi expected me to be just like you, or just like Mami because I look like her! Abuela just wanted me to see that I could get a gift because you didn’t.” Her chest heaved and the tears continued. “I didn’t even want one.”

Fuega barely noticed her thermal blankets being smothered around her before Mirabel pulled her into her body. Fuega resisted but Mirabel clung on.

“It's okay, let it out.”

Fuega wanted to rage but the tears weren’t stopping which only infuriated her more. She hated how nice Mirabel’s hand was in soft strokes against her back.

“I wish I didn’t get this gift. Abuela hates me because I cause so much damage.... that I couldn’t be as useful as the others to Encanto. She gives Isabela all the love and I hate her! I hate this town. I hate it all…” She wept, “Why couldn’t we just be a normal family?”

Mirabel didn’t let her go, keeping her wrapped up until her rage diminished and kept gently rocking her. It hurt to see her seven-year-old sister with so much pent-up emotions. No wonder it came out as anger. Anger was an easier emotion for a child to feel and use and she could only imagine that…with Fuega’s abilities, she wasn’t allowed to express as well; like Tia Pepa. It all became bottled to the point it was undistinguishable and confusing.

Just like Luisa. No doubt like Tia Pepa.

Fuega’s fire was evidence to how close to the surface her rage had become. How come her parents had never pushed Fuega to this catharsis? Had they really been that blind to their children’s needs? No wonder Tio Bruno had been so anxious about returning… he escape this with her.

Her fingers ran through Fuega’s dark hair; the girl’s breath almost burning her skin with each exhale but the fact she was no longer actively on fire, she took as a good sign.

“I am sorry for not being here for you.” Mirabel whispered, “I would have loved to have been there when you were a baby. It would have been great. I’m sorry that… I couldn’t have been able to help any sooner but, if you let me, I can be here for you now?”

Fuega sniffled, relaxing against her fully, and made no sound of committal.

“I am sure you’ll like this idea…and if I get permission; You, Elena, and other cousins of your choice could come to Tio Bruno’s tent for dinner. Make it into a picnic and Tio Bruno will set up a telenovela for us for entertainment.”

Again, very little response.

Mirabel peaked, shifting her sister but it was almost a surprise to see her drifting off to sleep. She kissed her forehead with a fond smile, sliding her arms under her and gently lifted her to her bed, taking off her sandals. Beside her, Mirabel plucked out the present she had and placed it on her pillow and left, with a final look to her.

--

Antonio had had a very confusing day. Or two days, to be precise. He had never known he even had another cousin. Actually, two cousins. He hadn’t known why he hadn’t known before; he had seen the mural in town and no one had answered him to the little girl that was painted and stayed, even as his family were updated to their present self, even when he was added… he had always wondered.

Mirabel Madrigal.

He had wanted to go an see more but Mama had forbidden him to see Tio Bruno, who according to them had taken away Mirabel and just come back. Now he had a new Tia and a new cousin and another cousin on the way!

Antonino knew not to disobey his mother but…he hadn’t had the confidence to do more than follow around when he could. What could he even say to her? She was probably much too old to want to talk to him after all. Isabela and Luisa barely spoke to him as it was… it was disappointing.

He did like Elena. She was so happy that it made him happy; talking about how great her Papa was and how excited she was about casita and how it moved… it made him feel so happy to see someone who wanted to talk to him. She didn’t care about animals and what they wanted or what he could get them to do. It was an odd feeling but he liked it.

He hoped he didn’t have to fight Fuega for her attention… he’d surely lose. His animals hated his prima’s flames and… she didn’t seem only fond of him so he did keep away from her more recently. Maybe he needed to find ways to get them to like him more?

Seeing Mirabel leave Fuega’s room, Antonio took his chance and hurried towards her. “Mirabel?”

Her eyes darted to him in surprise before she smiled. “Ah, Antonio. I’m glad to see you.”

Antonio looked to the door, “Are you okay?” Her face looked a little puffy, like she had been crying.

Mirabel nodded. “Of course, just…helping where I can.”

He nodded. “People who aren’t adults aren’t allowed in Fuega’s room.” He frowned in concern, he didn’t want her to be in trouble.

Mirabel’s head tilted, “Oh?”

Ah, she must not know. “Abuela said so after she set Dolores’s room on fire by accident.”

Mirabel rolled her eyes. “Why is Fuega being punished for an accident?”

Antonio shrugged, “I don’t know. Abuela gets angry quickly…. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Mirabel knelt in front of him. “Thank you for thinking of me, Antonio.”

Antonio smiled at the praise. “Thank you for that stuffed animal you gave me yesterday. I really do love it.”

Mirabel lent forwards and kissed his head. “I’m happy you do. Want to come down and see Elena? I’m—“

As if on cue, the child came bursting through the courtyard and up the steps.

“Fuega!”

Mirabel jumped and intercepted her. “She’s napping.” Pulling Antonio with her further down and away from her sister’s door. “Let her sleep, Elena.”

“Aww…”

#⌛🫓🦋🔥≻|| ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵘᶰ ( fanfics ) #mirabel madrigal #🦋≻|| ᵐᶤʳᵃᵖᵒˢᵃ ( mirabel ) #💪≻|| ᵇʳᵃʷᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ( luisa ) #luisa madrigal #🐝≻|| ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵉˢ ( agustin ) #agustín madrigal #🦁≻|| ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶰᶤᵐᵃˡ ʷʰᶤˢᵖᵉʳᵉʳ ( antonio ) #antonio madrigal #⁾⁾ ⁾⁾ ≻|| ᵃ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶰᵒᶤˢᵉ ( dolores ) #dolores madrigal #⌛🫓🦋🔥≻|| ᵃʷᵃᶤᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵐᶤʳᵃᶜˡᵉ ( queue )

[potatowitch]

in which hawke finds a cat: chapter 1 (read on ao3 here)

On a walk through Lowtown one freezing Kirkwall winter, Hawke, Merrill and Isabela find a grumpy stray cat in need of healing and a warm place to stay. (warnings for mildly graphic descriptions of pet injury - it gets healed though)

“Look, Isabela, all I’m saying is that us poor Fereldens -”

“Not so ‘poor’ anymore, sweet thing.”

Hawke snorts and rolls her eyes, huddling closer to Merrill and Isabela to share warmth as they trudge through an endless ocean of sleet.

Winter in Kirkwall is a miserable, wet affair. The freezing winds coming in from the Waking Sea have a way of getting through armor and clothes and reaching right down to your bones, and the torrential rains turn anything below Hightown into a muddy, flooded mess. Lowtown is almost deserted as a result, occupied only by a few exhausted, shivering merchants manning their shabby stalls and the odd beggar sleeping fitfully on a street corner. Hawke wonders how they don’t freeze where they lay - the stone ground is so cold that even Merrill and Fenris both conceded to wearing boots today. She shakes the thought from her head as she walks.

“-right, well, us Fereldens tend to think that salt is too spicy, so you can understand why Anders looks at your stews like they’re about to attack him. He did choke on a whole chilli pepper last Wednesday.”

“Okay, but that was pretty funny, though. The shade of red he went was absolutely adorable.”

“Are you kidding?” Hawke says with a wide grin. Her face underneath her dark fringe has gone pink with the cold, and the skin of her lips has started to crack. “It was hilarious, but we’ve got to feed the man somehow. He already doesn’t eat anywhere near -”

“Vhenan, wait,” Merrill interrupts.

The three of them come to an abrupt halt outside of a gloomy alleyway. The wind is less harsh where they stand in the shadow of the tall, worn buildings, though it still manages to carry Lowtown’s signature scent of blood, sweat and shit right into Hawke’s nostrils.

“What is it, kitten?” Isabela whispers.

“Can you hear that?”

Hawke holds her breath and listens intently to the scraping of weathered wood, the howl of the wind, and … a low, coarse “mow” coming from the alleyway.

Hawke and Merrill turn to each other, faces split into wide grins, before taking off down the alleyway and dragging Isabela behind them by the wrists.

The sound seems to be coming from behind a heap of rotting crates and moth-eaten sacks. Hawke heaves them aside, revealing a large grey tabby with a snaggletooth, a long scar over her pink nose and notches taken out of both ears. She’s curled up by the wall and shivering, and she hisses and puffs up as they approach, but doesn’t run away. As Hawke crouches in front of her, she can see why - the cat has her tail stuck under a pile of heavy terracotta bricks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” coos Hawke, completely ignoring the swipe the cat aims at her when she reaches out. “Can you two see if you can move these bricks? I’ll hang on to her so she doesn’t get away.”

By the time they’re done shifting the bricks, Hawke’s face and hands are covered in deep scratches, and both Merrill and Isabela have fallen victim to a few flailing swipes from the distressed cat, who growls furiously as she’s swaddled in Merrill’s scarf and held tight against Hawke’s chest. Half the bones in her tail seem to be crushed - it’s crusted with old blood and hangs limply out of the scarf. One of her paws has also succumbed to frostbite, the fur matted with ice and the pads blue-black where they should be pink.

“Poor baby,” Merrill sighs, reaching over to wrap the scarf tighter around the cat. “I wonder if she’s got a home and a family somewhere. They must be missing her.”

“She looks pretty feral,” Hawke says. She tries giving the cat a scratch on top of her head, and is promptly bitten and hissed at. “Come on. We should bring her to Anders. He can at least deal with the frostbite and properly amputate the tail.”

Merrill and Isabela nod their assent, and Hawke leads the way through the sleety, stinking streets towards the elevators leading to Darktown.

The elevator creaks and whines as they board it. The chains and gears are covered in a layer of ice, and it takes Merrill melting it with a small handheld flame for the controls to finally release and begin their descent into the undercity. Stepping off at the bottom, they’re assaulted with the sounds of metal hitting metal, wailing children and arguing refugees along with the foul stench of waste, decay and desperation. Unlike Lowtown, Darktown is still full to the brim with people huddled around sputtering fires, hunched over as they soothe their starving babies or upend the contents of their stomach into a corner. Hawke, Merrill and Isabela are watched suspiciously the entire time they walk through the twisting alleys, but they’re visibly well-armed enough that no cutthroats or gang members seem in the mood to risk a confrontation.

The outside of Anders’ clinic is surprisingly free of people. Most winters, Hawke has to push past a swarm of refugees needing food for their children or healing from a mine accident, a spare blanket and somewhere to shelter from the cold. Stepping inside, she sighs with relief as she’s hit with the warmth from the heating rune Anders has scratched on the ground underneath his desk. The clinic unfortunately doesn’t smell much better than the rest of Darktown, but the sharp tang of elfroot and lyrium cuts through the stench enough that it’s a little easier to breathe inside than out.

Every cot in the clinic is occupied, and Anders himself kneels in front of a cot on the back wall, hunched over an elven child’s wounded leg. The child’s mother looks on, shifting anxiously from one foot to another as shredded flesh knits back together under Anders’ hands. When he’s done, Anders murmurs something to the child that makes her smile, and he hands her mother the threadbare blanket from the cot.

As he rises and turns, Hawke can see how purple and hollow his undereyes are from where her, Isabela and Merrill stand in the clinic’s doorway. His hand shakes as he pushes it through his scraggly hair, leather tie long since lost in the chaos of his work. When his eyes finally fall on the three women hovering awkwardly by the door, he frowns and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Hawke, unless you’re actively dying, I really don’t have time for - what’s that?”

Anders steps forward and peers curiously at the bundle in Hawke’s arms. As Hawke tilts the cat forward a little to show Anders, she puts her ears back and growls at him.

“Oh, hello gorgeous,” Anders croons. The frown immediately lifts from his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he beams down at the cat. She hisses in response.

“Where did you find this sweetheart?”

“In an alleyway in Lowtown,” Hawke says. “Had her tail crushed under a pile of bricks. Her back paw has frostbite, too.”

“Poor thing. Bring her to the back room and I’ll have a look at her.”

The back room is separated from the main clinic by a cracked, rickety door. Inside is dark and cramped, the only furniture a rickety table and chair, a cracked washbasin, a dresser with a wonky door and a bed far too small for Anders’ lanky frame. The bedclothes have been stripped, likely given to a refugee, and the wardrobe door hangs open to reveal the inside is empty save a few spare bandages and potions. Anders must have moved all his clothes to his room in Hawke’s estate.

Anders deadbolts the door and closes the wardrobe. “Put her on the table.”

The cat, to her credit, doesn’t immediately try to run when Hawke lays her on the table and pulls away Merrill’s scarf. She instead backs up to the far edge of the table and raises her hackles, spitting and swiping at Anders’ hand as he reaches for her.

“Hey, sweetheart, you’re okay,” Anders murmurs to her, braving another attack on his hand to investigate her injured tail. His hand glows a muted blue as he hovers it over the worst of the damage, and his brows draw together in a frown. He does the same to her frostbitten foot, and lets out a heavy sigh.

“The good news is I’ll only have to take off half the tail,” he says. “The bad news is that the foot will have to go too, and she’s seriously dehydrated and malnourished. She can’t go straight back out onto the streets once I’ve healed her.”

Hawke considers this for a moment and shrugs. “That’s fine. She can stay with us.”

Anders’ eyes light up and he stares openly at Hawke. He barely seems to notice when the cat nips at his hand. “Really?”

“Really. Weren’t we talking about getting a cat, anyway?”

“We were,” Anders says. “But I thought you’d prefer one less …”

“Hideous?” says Isabela.

“Grumpy?” says Merrill.

Anders scowls.

“Hey! She’s adorable, and she’s only lashing out because she’s scared and in pain! You would be too! She just needs some love and care and I’m sure she’ll be an absolute softie in no time.” Anders tries to scratch under the cat’s ear, and is rewarded with another bite. His hands are already littered with tiny wounds that he’ll have to clean later to avoid infection.

“Well then,” Hawke chuckles. “Once her foot and tail are dealt with, you can bring her back home. Don’t get too excited, you’re the one who has to give her a bath.”

Anders beams, the corners of his eyes crinkling again. He looks happier than Hawke has seen him since … well, ever, really.

“That’s not a problem, Hawke.”

#fic #my writing #origin of turnip!! #ask me about my cat OC lmao

[onbanksofadragonriver]

Varric x Merrill thoughts

This is a rarepair ship I’ve believed in ever since I saw this fabulous art a few years ago, and the fic “Perfume Shop” (in Russian) has been a major inspiration too. And then recently, @hollyand-writes got me to air my headcanons and to actually get down to writing for this ship, so here we are.

I’ll go by points, but it’s not my goal to somehow attempt to prove that this ship is or should be canon. They’re my headcanons: Don’t like, don’t ship. Also, I haven’t played DA2 in a few years, and have never played any of the DLCs, so feel free to take this with a grain of salt. All dialogue with no specifically indicated source is from the wiki.

Buckle in, this is long!

@geekalogian​, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold​ ♥

>> Amazing banter

All the companions get frustrated by Merrill’s silly questions, though I believe half of them are actually only asked as a joke. They try to explain it or avoid the question, or sigh about Merrill’s naivete. Fenris is downright hostile to her, and Anders tends to get preachy. Aveline treats her like a child sometimes. Isabela is protective and friendly, but sometimes she sounds a bit condescending and impatient with Merrill’s innocence. 

But Varric, he gets her. He gets her silly jokes and just rolls with it, and their dialogues are a pleasure to listen to. It’s with Varric that her somewhat straight-faced, silly humour really shines, because he’s the only one to play along: about frolicking in the woods, and his resemblance to Hahren Paivel, and Bianca having a pretty name, or how his family is like fleas, or Darktown rats following the mage/templar mess, etc. He never brings up her naivete or makes her feel inadequate or as if she’s missed some context. And they’re both so relaxed around each other it’s like Varric has unlocked a whole new dimension to Merrill.

>> Protecting her freedom. The ball of twine and taking care of the gangs. 

I’ve seen meta on how Varric paying off the thugs is him infantilizing Merrill, but he does this for Anders too. It’s his way of caring about people. And also, if you see Merrill’s reaction in case Hawke doesn’t let her have the arulin’holm, you’ll see that she’s perfectly capable of realising when people are coddling her, and letting them know — in no uncertain terms — when that kind of meddling is unwelcome. (see also: Varric and his product deliveries below)

I also like to think that half of the reason “nothing ever happens” when she wanders around at night is because Merrill is a badass mage perfectly capable of taking care of herself. One of her default starting spells is rock armour, and when Hawke meets her, she admits to having fought before, and having done so alone. She’s certainly capable or recognising the stupidity and danger Sister Petrice is walking in as she wanders around Lowtown, and that’s in broad daylight. 

Also, I’m thinking Varric must have put that protection in place after news of some incidents reached his ears, because it’s not something he does by default to other party members who’re new to Kirkwall. So perhaps it is, or was necessary at some point. On the other hand, perhaps Merrill is totally taking care of herself, and the thugs are not even trying to attack her, they’re just enjoying ripping off Varric :P

I like to think that the Viscount’s gardens were an honest mistake and Merrill did cut down on wandering there after Varric’s comment.

The ball of twine is interesting. Her closest friends in the gang seem to be Hawke, Isabela and Varric, but only Varric actually gives her a tool enabling her to find her way around the confusing human city. I don’t know what others did. Did they expect Merrill to just stay in the Alienage if there was nobody to accompany her around the city? Or did they expect her to find her own way through trial and error? Varric gives her a weird, but apparently functional tool for navigating the city until she learns her own way.

And the common motif between ensuring safe streets, an access to gardens and the ball of twine, is how Varric is safeguarding Merrill’s freedom. She’s Dalish, used to living under open sky, travelling from place to place. She’s used to green, growing things and wandering about as she pleases. And she’s used to doing magic freely and in ways that she herself believes appropriate. Now she’s stuck in a barely hospitable alienage of a city with a strong templar and slaver presence, and Varric doesn’t have the heart to scold her and limit her freedom even more. 

Considering Varric is part of the ascendant group in Merchant Guild, who believe in leaving behind Orzammar’s strict caste system and traditions and embracing surface life instead, looks like Merrill’s freedom speaks to something deep in Varric’s own beliefs and values, nonchalant as he seems.

>> Trying to take care of her. Delivering produce.

This gives me feels. First, Varric noticed that something was off. Maybe he missed her showing up at the Hanged Man, maybe he went to visit her. Either way, he noticed that she wasn’t going out, not even to the market. It’s funny to imagine Varric standing in the market scratching his head about what actually goes into food preparation, but more probably he initially just threw some money at the problem, sending someone shopping for her. And then he checked up and saw she’s still not going out. And then he tries to talk her into going for a walk, to get fresh air.

And again this is something I’ve read as coddling and infantilizing, but — when Merrill is clearly not in a mood for teasing, she rebukes him politely: “I’m not a plant, Varric.” She’s not harsh as in case with Hawke and arulin’holm. When Varric leaves, she admits: “Varric is... very sweet. Frequently infuriating and a terrible busybody, but sweet.”

Which at first read as... Merrill not reciprocating Varric’s feelings for her? But on a second thought: what if Merrill is the oblivious one? Not only to Varric’s caring but about her own feelings for him? What if she never considered Varric romantically because she always thought she’d end up with a Dalish partner, and then she becomes friends with Hawke and starts opening up to the idea that what if she takes a human lover? And falling in love with a dwarf has not even crossed her mind yet? (Look lower, queen.)

Because when Merrill cares, she helps people: waters their plants or repairs ancient artifacts. Part of her potentially falling in love with Hawke is due to how they help her, how they have her back. Varric and Merrill have the same love language. I choose to think of it as a mystery, why Merrill is not canonically head over heels for Varric. Maybe she’s so used to his confident, handsome self boasting about all the female attention he gets that she thinks she’s out of his league and has friendzoned herself :P

Additionally, I believe “sweet” and “infuriating” is something that the gang could equally attribute to Merrill herself. Pot calling kettle black? :D

>> Opinions on magic

Varric largely doesn’t have an opinion on Merrill being a mage, a blood mage, or whatever. He’s not afraid, because he has other, more pressing concerns, like Merchant’s Guild breathing down his neck and sending assassins, and when he does mention Merrill’s blood magic being “evil” it sounds like a rehearsed thing that might cause him headache due to other people getting their knickers in a twist over it.

He does acknowledge he’s distrustful of letting “dangerous people run amok” if Hawke sides with the mages in the end of DA2, but apparently he trusts Merrill enough that she knows what she’s doing and leaves it at that. He’s just sick of the whole mage/templar drama.

>> Mutual interest in what they do. 

Merrill is interested in what he does for a living, while he tries to keep her out of trouble that would come from her knowing too much. And Varric is pondering why Eluvian is a mirror, and not some other piece of furniture. Not judging each other, just — curious. Showing they are in each other’s thoughts. And I won’t go into details here, because @hollyand-writes​ has, like, ALL the receipts where Varric thinks about Merrill in DAI, but he does — a lot :) He knows her interest in history and lore, knows that news of ancient elves keeping slaves would upset her, knows she would have liked to see the Dales. He seems to be missing her a lot...

>> Priority. 

LOOK at the sequence he mentions his friends in, Merrill is No.1, while Hawke is almost an afterthought :D

Merrill: How do you do it, living in the city without picking a side? Doesn't it matter to you? Varric: Of course it does. That's why I don't take sides. Merrill: That doesn't make any sense. Varric: I've got you and Aveline, Fenris and Anders. Hawke. Isabela. I've got friends in the Circle and drinking buddies in the templars. All of them matter.

And who’s the first person that comes to Merrill’s mind when Hawke calls her pretty? Varric! :D [X]

>> Comfort in storytelling. 

Yeah, Merrill says somewhere later that she wouldn’t have made a good Keeper because she’s not good with people, but she did receive all the requisite education. She studied lore and elven legends and history, as much as is left of it anyway, and I believe that storytelling, thriving on stories, is something that she and Varric both have in common. 

Maybe she’s too shy to tell her own stories, but she’s definitely enjoying Varric’s and looking for consolation in his stories when things get rough.

Merrill: Varric, how does the story end? Varric: Which story, Daisy? Merrill: The big one. With us and Hawke, the mages and templars. Everything. Varric: You want to know before it happens? You're not worried about spoiling the surprise? Merrill: I might not see it end. Varric: You have to stick with us if you want to find out how it turns out, Daisy.

Merrill: Tell me a story, Varric. Varric: Right now? I don't think we have time, Daisy. Merrill: Maybe a very short story, then? Please? Varric: Fine. "When the cards turned, he lost." Merrill: Oh. Did it have to be so sad?

Merrill: (passing the Hanged Man):  "Do you think there's time for Varric to tell us a story while we're here?"

Merrill: I hope we win. Varric will make it a good story, I'm sure.

>> Conclusions & Future

The thing that gets me the most is how good and kind they are to each other. It’s in their teasing, their jokes, the way Varric takes care of Merrill. I love Merrill’s confidence in Varric’s storytelling talent, and I like to think Varric finds Merrill’s confident tinkering with the mirror at least a little bit hot, even if he doesn’t understand magic (Bianca is/was a brilliant engineer, and I think Varric has a bit of a competence kink :D)

I also enjoy thinking of them both as slightly out of touch with emotions: Varric ignoring his own, and Merrill oblivious to his. I like to think of what happens when Merrill realises Varric loves her: because she’s open and honest in her affections, and it would be awesome to see Varric taken by that storm. To see him openly fall for someone so different, at a first glance, but also familiar: a knowledgeable storyteller, confident in her abilities, believing in free will and freedom. 

I see them moving on together: Merrill learning to let go of the disappointment that is the unfinished eluvian, and Varric learning to let go of his lingering feelings for Bianca. Yes, the past is important for Merrill, while Varric wants to live in the moment, but the point of knowing the past, for Merrill, is to be able to move forward, and Varric certainly knows his family’s past, so I don’t see any disagreements there. If anything, Varric’s resources and connections can help Merrill get her hands on more artefacts and ancient tomes, letting her continue on her path in some other way.

It’s interesting to imagine their life together. After DAI, Varric pours his own funds into various infrastructure projects until he ends up the Viscount of Kirkwall, and Merrill is in Kirkwall too, helping the city elves. Somehow, it feels logical that at least some of those projects would be new elf housing and improvements to the alienage. 

Would they get married? Probably, because I think it would be important to Merrill, and also probably because it might be a better way to protect her, a rumoured/known blood mage, from the Chantry than if she was just the Viscount’s mistress. On the other hand, knowing Varric and his cousin Elmand, and his spy network, and his tendency to successfully evade the Merchant Guild messengers [X], it’s equally possible he’d whip up a completely fake story about how his beloved Merrill is a hatter, and leave it at that. Probably he couldn’t even be found in the Keep, instead preferring to hide out in the Hanged Man or in his wife’s house in the alienage :D

Because, in the end, I think they both enjoy doing their respective Things very much, whether it’s helping elves or writing books, and they let each other do it selflessly, even if maybe it means they can’t live together. (Because can you imagine a Viscomtesse Merrill having to host a ball? Dealing with Hightown nobles? No, I don’t think Varric would ever ask such a sacrifice of her.) But they live close, and help and support each other, and, in short, I think they’d be awesome :)

#dragon age #dragon age meta #varric x merrill #merrill #varric #this is my tiny OTP #feel free to add your own headcanons #ship and let ship!

[elveny]

Adriene (DA) ◾

For the Headcanon Meme | Thank you!

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Adriene does not like to be alone, and a part of why Leandra’s death hit her so hard (apart from the loss of her mother, of course) was that she was completely alone in the huge mansion. Back in Lothering and in Gamlen’s house, she always shared a room with Cassia, and now she didn’t even have someone in the house. It made her feel extremely lonely and scared. It got much better when Anders moved in, and later Fenris. Isabela sort of moved in as well, but restless soul and sea-bound as she is, she basically just has a chest with her stuff and otherwise shares Adriene and Fenris’ room.

When they finally leave Kirkwall, they build a house in a small village near Amaranthine, close to Carver, Cassia, and Cullen (Bethany moves with Sebastian to Starkhaven). It has a view of the ocean, and a beautiful garden Adriene loves to tend. Two bedrooms - officially one for Fenris, Adriene, and Bela and one for Anders and Adriene, but both have beds big enough for them all and they share freely. A big living room that opens up towards the garden and has room enough for entertaining guests as well as a study and two guest rooms - and a nursery (one of the guest rooms turns into a kid’s room as well) (they have three kids). Fenris has a knack for woodwork and builds most of their furniture himself. It’s a very warm house with lots of plants and each of them brings something of themselves into it.

After Corypheus is killed, they add another section to the house for Bull and Amara. Beds are HUGE in this big poly family :D

#oc: adriene hawke #headcanon meme #charlatron #elveny answers