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#young romance
call-me-oluss · 2 days
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What freedom tastes like
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jm118jm · 2 days
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What if, instead of Wille waiting until the next day to find out if Simon was okay after the protest, we had Wille pull ranks and order Marlin to drive him to Simon’s place? Where he finds Simon in his room crying into his pillow. Simon hears his bedroom door open and quickly wipes a tear thinking it’s Linda but he sees Wille instead. Without thinking twice, Simon runs into Wille’s arms and breaks down without meaning to but from being so emotionally overwhelmed! Wille is relieved to find Simon unarmed but is overcome by sadness over Simon’s distraught. He lays Simon on his bed and gently comforts him while placing occasional forehead kisses and reassuring him they are in this together! Simon cries until he passes out from exhaustion and we have a closeup of Wille looking at him, taking in his beauty, his sadness, his frustrations, wishing he could take away his pain. Wille’s eyes are filled with love before a sense of guilt takes over them! He hates seeing Simon in this much pain. He hates the idea of anyone being able to reach and harm Simon & his family at any given moment. He reaches out for his phone in his pocket to quietly instruct Farima to arrange for security to be posted at Simon’s place! After he hangs up, he slowly and quietly attempts to adjust himself to be more comfortable but as he is doing so, he sees an orange piece of fabric sticking from underneath Simon’s pillow.
He gently pulls it out so as to not wake Simon and to his utter surprise, it is his orange sweater that he doesn’t quite remember how he lost, or how it ended up underneath Simon’s pillow. He stares at the now quietly snoring Simon, then back at the sweater and back at Simon again. He smiles sheepishly at the idea that Simon has had a piece of him all this time. He giddily but gently puts the sweater back as he pulls simon closer to him and gives him a long forehead kiss while wrapping both arms around him. He whisper “jag älskar dig” then falls asleep minutes later with a huge smile on his face.
He stirs awake the next morning and finds Simon already awake staring at him. Simon’s eyes are swollen but he looks handsome as always. The warm rays of morning sun sprinkling in the room highlighting Simon’s delicate curls and painting the room gold! They exchange good mornings and Wille places a gentle kiss on Simon’s lips! Simon thanks him for being there for him last night and not leaving him to deal with everything alone! Wille places another gentle kiss on simon’s lips as he tells him he will always be there for him.
Wille then informs Simon that they need to get ready for school if they don’t want to be late, but Simon tells him he isn’t going and instead asks him to stay with him at home. Wille doesn’t refuse this time but simply nods his head in agreement, he figures they could both use the day off after everything that has happened. Simon gives him a deeper kiss and when they break for air, Wille cheekily bring up the sweater by removing it from underneath Simon’s pillow. He teases Simon about it and Simon relents. He is okay with Wille knowing that he is just as affected by Wille as he assumes Wille is for him! Wille tells him he can “steal” as many of his clothes as he likes! They both laugh heartily.
Linda calls Simon to ask about school and Simon tells her he isn’t going! She agrees to let him skip school and leaves for work! Wille asks to take a shower and Simon lays out his own clothes for Wille to wear since he didn’t carry any with him the previous night. He lays out his Koi t-shirt and his famous pajama bottoms. Wille asks Simon to wear his orange sweater in exchange and Simon agrees! (Simon wears his dark purple shirt, jeans and the orange sweater, fashion is not this kids strong suit, let him be). They end up showering together, but nothing steamy, just a kiss here and there! Simon let’s Wille wash his hair. Wille runs his fingers delicately through Simon’s wet curls as he tenderly massages his scalp! Simon runs his soapy hands along Wille’s chest and back, tracing gentle kisses along his collar bone.
After they are done showering and getting ready, they both go into the kitchen to prepare breakfast aka sandwiches! They eat and Wille asks Simon what his plans for the day is! Simon tells him he could show him around bjärstad, he has a favourite spot he likes to go to to clear his mind! Wille is enthusiastic to know more about Simon’s hometown. Simon shows him a few places in bjärstad. He takes him to a pizzeria that his dad loved taking him to when he was young. It is now been reformed into a gas station. He shows him another spot that Ayub and Him used to work in when they were 15years! It’s an old rundown library that looks like it’s on the brink of closure! He shows him a park that Linda used to bring him and Sara to play!
He promises to show him where Ayub and Rosh live in the next time he is around Bjärstad. Finally they end up in a small secluded beach-like area that is very empty except for three or so cars! It looks a little unkept. Simon says he found this place a few years ago while he was coming home from work and has since been a regular. This is the place he comes to when he needs to be by himself! His thoughts are as free as the water that surrounds it, he has attempted to write a couple songs here, of course he likes none of them. They were too childish. Wille takes it all in as Simon becomes animated about his life. He loves that Simon is showing him this part of himself. They run around the place, playing in the water, splashing each other, taking pictures of each other and selfies with each other, kissing and making out, writing their names on the sand and talking about nothing and everything! In that moment, the whole world around them disappears with all their problems! In that moment, no one else exist but the two of them! They are content just being Simon and Wille.
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simsim54 · 9 days
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There is one single thing missing in this scene!
THE LACK OF RAIN
Such intense rain that they are both left completely drenched, with every inch of their clothes turned see-through and hair soaking wet.
And then they are kissing, with such passion, with such happiness, not caring about the rain almost drowning them or their hair being plastered to their faces or the cold seeping through their bodies.
It's messy, it's wet, it's cold. It's imperfectly perfect because they are in love, and they have finally overcome every single thing that ever came between them!
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gameraboy2 · 11 months
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“Lizzie’s Back in Town” Young Romance #85 (1956) by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby
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Tony DeZuñiga draws Young Romance #167 from 1970
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winxanity-ii · 1 month
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⌜Tactus Mortis | Chapter 06 Chapter 06 | La luz està en⌟
╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝
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❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘
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The stars hung in the night sky as if strung in the air by invisible strings. It was peaceful, with the occasional sound of crickets in the background as you walked away from
As soon as dinner was over, you immediately rushed away, unable to handle the congratulations from the many Madrigals.
Though Alma made great points as to why it should be you in charge of the ceremony, you couldn't help the small clouds of doubt that snuck into your head, telling you otherwise.
"Well, no use of stressing myself out over it. What's done is done," you told yourself, wrapping your cloak tighter around your figure.
As you walked down the dirt path to your home, the sight of a small candle flickering in the windowsill brought a smile to your face; it meant that your father was home.
You haven't seen him in a while—four months, to be exact. Your father was often away, traveling beyond the giant walls that sheltered the enchanted city from outside civilizations to trade.
Sometimes, his expeditions would last far longer than four months, so he must have decided to come back sooner rather than linger out there in the world.
With a quickened pace, you soon found yourself standing before the wooden door. Opening it, you were met with your father sitting in a chair near the crackling fireplace, staring down at something in his lap while your mother sat across from him, gently bouncing a small bundle in her arms.
At the sound of your entrance, your father looked up, a tired look on his face.
The second you blink, your mother is gone. Shaking your head, you turned to smile at your father. "Pápa, you're home."
Your father said nothing, only returning a small smile of his own before standing up to give you a hug.
As you reached your arms around him, you were able to catch a glimpse of the photograph that once held his attention before your arrival: it was a picture of your smiling mother.
"How have you been, muñequita? I haven't seen you in a while." Your father asked, pressing a loving kiss onto your forehead before releasing you to walk back over to the chair.
Following him, you set yourself down on the floor at his feet instead of the chair across from him.
"I've been okay, Pápa. The Madrigals have kept me company and well in your absence. How about you?" You stared up at him with a questioning stare, taking in his disheveled form.
"I've been great, muñequita," he responded, sending you a smile that never reached his eyes.
You wanted to argue against his answer; he looked far from great, with dark bags hanging underneath his eyes and sunken cheeks that showcased his cheekbones, but you held your tongue.
The next few moments were spent in peace as your father and you caught up with one another, the crackling of the fireplace adding to the calm atmosphere.
"So a little birdie told me that you'll have a leading role in this year's Día de Muertos. Is it true?"
You know that he knew that it was true; he just wanted to hear you admit it. "Yes, Pápa. Doña Alma made the announcement at dinner. Apparently, she thought it would be best if I'd taken control and hosted this year's ceremony because of my gift."
After listening to you give the explanation, your father held a hand to his chest, letting an exaggerated sigh leave his body. "Ah, to think, you'll be in charge of such an important event. My little girl has grown up so fast."
You suppressed an action eye roll at his dramatics: "Pápa, it's not that big of a deal."
"Sorry, sorry. I'm just so happy for you, Muñequita. I can't wait to see what you have in store. I'm sure you'll blow us all away," he said, standing up before giving your hair a small ruffle. "Well, I'm off to bed. Goodnight, muñequita."
"Pápa," you whined, moving away from his hands to pat down the now-messy strands.
He gave one more chuckle before walking away. Just as he exited the living room, he sent you one last look over his shoulder. "Your mother would be very proud of how far you've come, Y/N."
You felt a smile grow on your lips at the sincere look on your father's face as he told you this. "Goodnight, Pápa."
As soon as he was gone, you turned to watch the fireplace, knees folded to your chest.
"You know, your father's right. I am proud of you." Your head swiveled over to stare at your mother, who sat in a rocking chair, gently bouncing the small bundle held against her chest. "You've come so far."
"Thank you, Mamá," you said with a smile to the spirit.
Two years after being blessed with your gift, tragedy struck your family. Your mother, Jovena, died while prematurely giving birth to your younger brother, Arlo. Everyone in Encanto mourned for your family's losses. A mother, wife, and granddaughter were taken from this world, and a life was taken before it had the chance to live.
Your great-grandmother was so distraught by their deaths that she died a few months later, at the ripe age of 89, due to grief. Your small family had been shattered since their deaths, leaving only you and your father to try and piece it back together.
Ten years later, your father seemed to still be mourning your mother.
Despite having died, your mother still crosses the realms to watch over your father, with your great-grandmother, Francisca, coming to chat now and then. You even got visits from your paternal grandmother, Alejandra.
You were left baffled as to why your mother and paternal grandmothers were the only ones to cross over and visit, and not your maternal grandmother, Beatriz. She soon revealed that those of the Muertez lineage did not pass into the same realm as others after their deaths; instead, they were sent to a grey zone to work as helpers for the goddess of death, assisting lost souls to the afterlife as well as serving as guides for the gifted Muertezs in the living realm.
However, since the genocide of the Muertez line left you as the last one, you were assigned your mother as your guide. In the past decade, your mother has taught you a lot about your gift and what it entails.
She spoke of how each and every power gifted to the women of the Muertez line was as unique and different as a snowflake; yours was the only one that was a repeat of one from before.
Apparently, yours was a sort of anniversary gift, depicting the first-ever gift Santa Muerte had bestowed upon your family.
Getting up, your mother walked over to your seated form, crouching until you were facing one another. "My child," she sighed, gently cupping the side of your face and sending chills down your spine at the coldness that followed.
As she did this, you couldn't help but peek at the bundle in her arm; a wide pair of eyes stared right back at you, and the spirited baby's mouth pulled up into a gummy smile.
Whenever you saw Arlo's face, you felt your heart clench within your chest. Seeing him made you feel as if you were cheated by a little brother that could have been with you at this very moment, a little brother that would sleep in your arms as you sang the songs your mother sang to you as a child, but you couldn't because he wasn't truly here.
Sending Arlo a smile back, you look up into the face of your mother. "I love you, Mamá." As you spoke, the bottom of your lip trembled, your eyes misting with unshed tears. "I love you, Arlo. Goodnight."
Your mother sent a smile of your own back. "Goodnight, my child." And with that, she dispersed back to the other side with your brother in hand.
Standing up, you wiped away your tears and went to bed, preparing yourself for a new day.
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Okay, let me just start off and say, I AM SO SORRY! I've been stuck so hard on writer's block and thought of lowkey scraping the whole book, but instead of doing that, I just went to write on other books, and it helped me get motivated. So once again, sorry for making you all wait for so long!
Also, I know that the chapter isn't so action-packed, but I just wanted to tie up loose ends once again. Yeah, sorry about killing off the mama and great-grandma. And your 'could have been' little brother, but oh well, I love the angst.
See you all at the next update!
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Art Edit Credit to Roberto Coltro
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dirtyriver · 11 months
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Everything's Archie #1, variant cover by Dan Parent
Homage to the classic cover of Young Romance #150, October-November 1966, by Jay Scott Pike
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misanderousmisfit · 6 months
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My Weekend project will be to start drawing again. I want to use this classic comic as inspiration of an ICE/MAV/Charlie version. Picture it. Ice in his aviators watching Mav smooch Charlie in 86.
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But imagine you were born for royalty,
Would you be clever and clumsy or cocky and careless.
~Pricilla ♡
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msola · 2 months
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"I know I've gone too forward today with sharing my feelings toward you. I care about you friendship. I knew the moment you left without answering me, that it was mistake. But I don't want to loose you. We're still friends, right?" "You aren't my friend." "Are you that mad at me? I get it, I understand. If you want to scream at me, call me names, hit me. Do whatever you want, but please stay in my life. Please." "Ayaz, you are not my friend. Because I like you." "What??" Asiye ve Ayaz Kardeşlerim 116. Bölüm
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ssunshine-readss · 9 days
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how did Vincent not know Nils was gay? i feel like it was abundantly obvious haha
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gameraboy2 · 7 months
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Young Romance #2 (1947)
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Young Romance #150
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winxanity-ii · 1 month
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⌜Tactus Mortis | Chapter 02 Chapter 02 | el muerto⌟
╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝
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❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘
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The Casa Madrigal was alive with joy and excitement as the youngest member of the family, Camilo, received his gift from Casita.
"I'm so proud of you, mi pequeñito," Pepa exclaimed, showering her son with kisses and tears as a small rain cloud formed over her head.
"Mamá," Camilo whined, his face flushing with embarrassment.
Unable to let go of her son, Pepa continued to smother him with affection until Camilo turned to his father for help.
"Pápa," he pouted, reaching out towards Félix for rescue.
Chuckling, Félix walked over and effortlessly lifted Camilo from Pepa's tight grip with one hand. "That's enough, mi vida. Give the boy some space," he smiled, placing Camilo back on the ground to run off and play.
Pepa's eyes welled up with tears, "If I let him go, he'll grow up and leave me," she cried, her thundercloud releasing a small boom before showering her in rainwater.
"Shoo, shoo." Félix gently coaxed the clouds away, "It's okay to feel sad, Pepa. Camilo is growing up, but that's a natural part of life."
Pepa buried her head in her husband's shoulder, pulling at the ends of her hair in frustration. "I know, but it's hard to let go."
"Take your time, mi vida. You'll feel better soon," Félix reassured her.
"I know," Pepa sighed before her eyes sparkled with a mischievous idea. "Do you want to have another child!?"
Félix was taken aback, his eyes widening comically as he choked on his own breath. Before he could respond, a tall, dark-skinned man burst into Casita with a look of worry etched on his face.
"What's wrong, José?" a blonde woman asked, stepping towards the anxious man.
"There are people coming down the trail! Someone has entered Encanto!" José exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency.
The news sparked a wave of panic throughout the house.
"It's not possible! No one can enter!"
"Do you think he made a mistake?"
"What if they're the bad people!?"
"It can't be. We haven't seen any sign of them in over forty years." A voice boomed over the commotion, silencing the crowd. "Enough!" All eyes turned to the head of the Madrigal family, Alma Madrigal, as she made her way down the steps with a commanding presence.
Alma approached José with determination, her every step exuding purpose. "Is what you said true, José?" she demanded, her tone conveying the seriousness of the situation.
"Yes, Doña Alma," he replied, his own face etched with concern.
Without hesitation, Alma called out for her third eldest grandchild. "Dolores, please come here. We need your assistance."
With footsteps as quiet as a mouse, Dolores Madrigal deftly weaved through the crowd to stand before her. Dolores needed no explanation as she tilted her head to the side, humming softly before relaying her findings. "There are four people traveling here in an old wagon pulled by a donkey. Three of them are adults, while one is a child. I believe the child is sick by the sound of coughs and snivels I'm hearing, and that one of the three adults is elderly by the sound of joints popping."
Alma thanked Dolores with a smile before turning to her eldest child and daughter, Julieta. "Julieta, please have food on standby and ensure that the guest rooms are in order."
Julieta immediately nodded and set about making the necessary preparations, but there were some in the room who were shocked by Alma's decision. "Doña Alma, you can't be serious! You're allowing strangers to come, even going as far as to offer them hospitality in Casita?" One person spoke up from the crowd, their voice filled with disbelief.
But Alma only smiled serenely in response. "Of course I am," she stated firmly, making her way toward the door. "Only one person in the outside world would know the way into Encanto." As she opened the door, the sound of a creamy wagon stopped outside the house, drawing everyone's attention.
Some of the onlookers peered curiously around Alma to get a glimpse of who had arrived. They saw a middle-aged man assisting an elderly woman out of the wagon.
"Abuela Francisca!" Alma exclaimed upon recognizing the elderly woman, who playfully smacked the man on the arm.
Francisca turned around, her face lighting up upon seeing Alma. "Alma, my little mija," she greeted warmly.
The two women met halfway, embracing each other with happy chuckles and tears of joy.
Alma's eyes widened in surprise as she met the young couple's gaze. "And who might these young ones be?"
Francisca limped over to the couple, beaming with pride. "This is my granddaughter-in-law, Jovena," she introduced, pointing a wrinkled finger at the woman. She then shifted her finger towards the man, "and my grandson, Miguel."
Alma's expression softened with fondness at the mention of Miguel's name. "Miguel?" she said with a hint of disbelief. "Do you mean he's...?"
Francisca nodded, confirming Alma's suspicion. "Yes, he's Alejandra's little boy."
Alma's heart swelled with emotion at the thought of seeing her best friend's son after so many years. She walked over to Miguel, smiling at him. "Hello, Miguel. I'm Alma. I was your mother's best friend."
Miguel's face turned stiff as he forced a smile. "I know. My abuelita has told me a lot about you," he replied, clearly holding back his emotions.
Alma could sense that something was amiss and her smile faltered slightly.
Francisca noticed Alma's expression and quickly interjected, "As much as I would love to spend time catching up, mija, we have urgent business to attend to."
Alma nodded in agreement, understanding the need for urgency. "Of course. Please bring the child inside. We've already prepared a room for her."
The couple's faces filled with shock at her words. "How did you knowㅡ"
"Ah, I see Casita has blessed your family with many more gifts," Francisca said, cutting off Jovena's question as she walked into the house. "Miguel, go get my bisnieta. The quicker she gets help, the better she'll be. I'll meet you in the room."
Nodding, Miguel went to get his daughter.
When he arrived with the still feverish 5-year-old, nearly everyone was standing outside Casita to get a peek at the strangers.
Miguel pressed his lips into a firm line, sheltering his daughter closer to his chest.
Seeing his discomfort, Alma turned towards the house, shaking her head at the many eyes staring back at her. "I'm sorry everyone, but tonight's celebration will be cut short. If you'll please, Casita, help our guests see their way out."
The house shutters gave two flaps as if saying, 'You got it' before moving the stone underneath the crowd's feet, like a treadmill, straight out towards the outskirts of the house.
Miguel and Jovena were in awe as they followed, but as they stepped forward to enter the house, Casita's doors seemingly slammed shut before opening quickly, its windows jingling as if singing a happy tune.
Miguel's brow rose at this, "Does the house always do this?"
Alma looked around at Casita's shutters, shingles, and even furniture moving about as if she were singing a song without a rhythm. "Uh, not usually," she spoke in embarrassment as the floors made flower patterns around the couple.
As the couple got ready to trek up the steps, Casita took it upon herself to turn it into an escalade the moment they stepped on.
The house's hospitality didn't stop there; once they were up the steps, Casita dropped them off directly at the room and opened the door for them.
As Jovena stepped through the door, Miguel turned around, his face still stuck in a mixture of amazement and confusion. "Um, thanks, Casita?"
The house gave one more round of noise at this, seemingly puffing up with pride.
"Jovena," Alejandra called out as Jovena was about to close the door.
"Yes, abuela?" Jovena turned to face her.
"Come, come. I want you to meet Alma's second child, Pepa. She's around your age," the old lady said, waving over toward an auburn-haired woman in a colorful sundress.
Jovena took a step forward, but Miguel shooed her away, mouthing, "Go have fun," before leaving the room.
After Jovena scurried off to converse with one of the Madrigals, Miguel fully stepped into the room and took in the decorations. Bright colors lit up the space, and funny characters were drawn all around. On the bed, several hand-stitched toys sat next to the pillows, perfect for his daughter's age.
Alma noticed his observations and spoke up as she shifted the blankets to make space for the child. "My son, Bruno, saw your arrival a few weeks ago. I made sure a room was prepared for your daughter."
Thanking her, Miguel sat the child down on the bed. "Is that so? Then why was everyone so surprised?"
"When Bruno approached me with his vision, I ensured that it was kept confidential, shared only amongst between my three children and me. I did not wish for it to become a big issue, especially since you were all arriving for something other than a celebration."
Nodding his head at her answer, Miguel bent down to tuck his daughter in. As he leaned over to adjust the edge of her blanket, a soft voice caught his attention.
"Pápa..." The little girl's voice was weak and strained.
Miguel turned to face his daughter and knelt beside her bed, gently brushing her hair from her face. "What is it, my muñequita?" he asked, his heart aching at the sight of the bags under her eyes; she was far too young to experience it.
"Pápa, it hurts..." she whined, tears streaming down her cheeks. "My chest hurts."
Miguel's heart sank as he saw the pain in his daughter's eyes. "Shh, mi amor," he whispered, wiping away her tears with his thumb. "You'll feel better soon, I promise."
Alma watched the scene unfold, her heart heavy with sadness at the sight of the little girl in pain.
Just in time, Julieta arrived with a tray holding a small cup of soup. "I'm here~" she sang softly, "I've been stuck for the past ten minutes deciding what I should make, but ultimately decided to cook up a portion of chicken noodle soup."
Miguel raised an eyebrow at the small portion. "Is that all you're going to give her?"
"Yes, she won't need much," Julieta replied, gently setting the tray in front of the child.
"You see, Julieta's gift is being able to heal with her cooking. Whenever someone is hurt or sick, all it takes is one bite for them to instantly feel better," Alma explained, seeing the incredulous look on the male's face.
Though he wanted to protest, Miguel knew the earful he'd get from his grandmother, so he stepped back, allowing her to feed his daughter the soup.
The small child ate with ravenous hunger because, for the first time in forever, she didn't immediately throw it back up.
The little girl shook her head. "My chest still hurts."
Miguel mumbled a few curses under his breath. "I knew it! Abuelita talked me into coming all this way for something that didn't even work." He stormed out of the room to find his wife and grandmother, leaving the two eldest Madrigals in the room alone with the child.
Julieta's brows furrowed in worry as she looked back at her mother. She hoped to communicate, 'I don't know why it didn't work! It usually works.' Her mother replied with a nod that said, 'I understand, mija. Don't stress yourself. There's nothing wrong with your gift, but there is something wrong with the child.'
The little girl just stared up at them, waiting for someone to say anything. When all the two women did was look at each other, she let out a small cough. "Though my chest still hurts, can I still get some more soup? My face doesn't feel hot anymore."
Julieta's eyes lit up. The child was just like her. Just as Juliet could heal others, her healing didn't work too well on herself. For instance, if she were to cut herself while cooking and eat something to heal it, instead of healing right up as it would do for anyone else, it would take a bit longer. A scab would form in the next hour, and it would completely heal up by the end of the second day. "Of course, darling, I'll go get the soup," she hummed before rushing out of the room, making sure to drag her mother behind her.
Five minutes passed, and the child continued to sit, waiting for her food.
At the sound of the door creaking open, she sat up, anticipating the arrival of the woman with her meal. But to her surprise, it was a little boy wearing a yellow ruana over a white, long-sleeved shirt, paired with black pants.
The boy was small, with a wild head of dark auburn hair that curled in several directions. As he peeked around the door, the little girl caught a glimpse of his green eyes, which sparkled with mischief.
"What are you doing?" The girl asked before coughing into her elbow.
The boy's green eyes narrowed at her, and his lips pulled down into a frown. "It's because of you!" he suddenly exclaimed, racing towards the end of the girl's bed.
"Huh?"
"You stole the attention from me! Today was supposed to be about me getting my awesome gift, and now everyone's talking about a sick little girl."
The girl frowned back at him. "I'm not little," she sniffed, "I'm five."
"So am I."
"Then how can you call me little if we're the same age?"
The boy blushed when he realized she was right. "B-Because you're shorter than me, so that makes you little!"
"How would you know? I'm lying in bed," the girl replied, giving him a skeptical look.
"I just do, okay!"
"Okay, then."
The boy narrowed his eyes at her. "You don't sound like you believe me."
"Because I don't," she replied, "My mamá told me to always agree if you think someone will try to prolong a stupid argument."
"Pro-long. What does that mean?"
"I don't know, but if my mamá said it, it must be a smart word."
"Whatever. Your mamá is wrong, because I know for a fact I'm taller than you," he said, puffing out his chest.
The girl bristled at his words. "How would youㅡ" Her sentence was cut off with a gasp as the little boy suddenly transformed into a man as tall as the door.
"See, I'm tall," the man replied, sending the girl a smirk.
"How did you do that?" the girl wondered, her eyes glittering with excitement as the man turned back into a boy.
"It's my gift," he said with a bright smile. "I can change into whoever I want."
Clapping her hands, the girl wiggled in her bed. "Oh, do me, do me!"
"Alright, calm down," the boy said, walking closer to her. "Let me see what you look like." And with that, he leaned in close to the girl's face.
He was so close that she could see the freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, and how his hazel-green eyes held a few golden specks.
After a few more seconds of examining her face, the boy stood back, and in the blink of an eye, there stood the girl.
"Woah," she breathed in awe, watching as her own face showed the same expression.
Holding her hand up, her mirror image did the same until their hands were touching.
"So cool," she breathed out.
The boy shifted back, a proud smirk on his lips. "As it should be. I'm the Amazing Camilo! No one could ever top my powers."
Just as he finished his little introduction, a shout rang through the house. "Camilo Madrigal! Where are you!? It's past your bedtime, young man!"
The boy'sㅡCamilo's face grew one of panic. As the shouts grew nearer, he lost control and shifted into multiple people at once, resulting in funny combinations that the little girl couldn't help but giggle at.
Camilo's shifting stopped abruptly, and he gazed at her with a grin.
Suddenly, the floorboards beneath his feet began to shake, slowly carrying him toward the door.
"Casita, I don't want to go to bed," he whined, plopping down onto the floor. Still, the house continued to move him, despite his pleas.
As Camilo's body was about to leave the room, he grabbed hold of the door frame. "Hey, what's your name?"
The girl, still chuckling at his antics, finally told him, "It's Y/N" and with that, he was gone.
Shifting back onto the pillow as silence encased you, you could only yawn.
Just before getting there, you felt sick to the bone, unable to move.
All the times your parents and bisabuela called your name, you wanted to respond, but couldn't. But now, after eating the tasty soup, you have enough energy to talk.
Hopefully, you'll get better soon.
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***Bear with me ppl, just one more chapter then you'll be done with the introduction arc.
I can't help it. I just can't give a half-assed first chapter before moving on, I gotta world build in this peace 😭😭
Did I do good tho? 👁👄👁
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Art Edit Credit to Roberto Coltro
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