#Bruno Madrigal fanfic

[noellemadrigal]

¡Feliz cumpleaños! ⏳🌦️🫓

A huge happy birthday to Bruno and his sisters Julieta & Pepa! 🥹✨

The art piece is by artwork.ns & is based on a moment that’s gonna be from chapter 3/4 of the fic La Rata y el Profeta by myself 🐀⏳✨ Bruno celebrating his 49th birthday in the walls with his amigos. 🧡💚💙

[foggyfanfic]

Dodgeball

Alma would like the record to show, that she has always tried to understand her son. Of course she has, she’s his mother, if she doesn’t understand Bruno, then who does?

Nobody, that’s who. Nobody understands Bruno.

Lately, ever since they started talking, really talking, she’s understood his anxieties, his hurt, his loneliness, his love of rats, and even his decision to live in the walls for ten years. But she has accepted that she will only ever understand half of what comes out of his mouth.

It started when he was six and everything he didn’t like was “square”, then when he was a teenager and everything good was that English word “nifty”. Lately, anytime Bruno saw Pepa or Julieta being affectionate with their husbands he would look his sisters in the eye and say “That’s cringe”. She assumed this terminology came from the future, but honestly, Bruno had always been so creative, he might have just dreamed this stuff up.

Now, Alma stared at the box the merchants had brought back from the city at Bruno’s request and debated if she even wanted to know.

Alma took a deep breath in, closed her eyes and slowly breathed out.

“I am trying to do better,” she quietly reminded herself, “I will be interested in, and supportive of… whatever this is.”

With that said, she opened her eyes, turned towards the stairs and started the short journey to her son’s door. She knocked on the blank wood next to the new and improved carving on Bruno’s door. Then she waited.

Eventually, the door opened, and Bruno gave her that quiet smile she had missed so dearly while he was gone, “Hola Má, what did you need?”

“A package has arrived for you,” she told him, “it’s too big for me to carry upstairs-.”

She apparently didn’t need to say anything else, because Bruno’s face lit up and he eagerly stepped through the doorway. He rushed to the banister and looked down at the box, grinning.

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Indeed,” Alma said, doing her best to smile warmly.

“I’ll open it right now and get it outta here,” Bruno promised her, already walking to the stairs. 

Alma followed, “No rush mijo. Do you need any help?”

“Ah, sí. I uh, I will probably need help inflating them,” he said, thoughtfully.

“Oh, well, I don’t know how much help I could be in that regard,” she frowned, then remembered something, “although I think I might know where the air pump is.”

Recently, Luisa had been trying to learn how to ride a bike, and she had picked up a small pump that Alma was pretty sure was in the closet by the laundry room.

“That’d be perfect,” Bruno nodded eagerly, practically skipping down the stairs, “a-and I’ll probably need something big to hold them in. If you don’t-, if you can think of-, por favor.”

“I will see what I can do,” Alma agreed, walking down the stairs at a much more sedate pace.

Bruno’s sandals slapped noisily against the tile as he rushed across the courtyard to the box waiting for him in the entryway. His hands fluttered around it excitedly for a second, then he patted his pockets down for the small pocket knife Camilo had gotten him for his first Christmas back. He carefully opened the pocket knife, then slid it through the tape holding the box closed.

“Bruno,” Alma finally dared to ask.

“Sí Mamá?” He didn’t look up as he unfolded the top of the box.

“What exactly is a ‘El Señor Divertido’s Super Bounce Dodgeball’, and why have you ordered a box of them?”

“Oh! Remember how Mirabel was saying we should find some way to stop people from pestering me for visions?”

Alma pursed her lips, “I do, however, I’m not sure throwing balls at people is the best solution.”

Granted, she wouldn’t stop him if he chose to start throwing harmless rubber balls, but Alma had put a lot of effort into softening the villagers towards her son. Him going on a red rubbery rampage might undo that hard work. Sure, there had always been days when she’d been tempted to throw things at various villagers for the way they talked to Bruno, but in some ways, her renewed determination to protect her son from the village’s disdain required she hold her tongue around others more so than before. Let Isabela and Pepa outwardly fight for Bruno, Alma would use her position as village leader to support his reintroduction into society.

It was the least she could do.

Thankfully, Bruno’s plan did not involve throwing things, or at the very least, didn’t involve him throwing things.

“What? Oh. I guess I could do that,” Bruno paused, frowning down at his box of deflated red rubber balls, then he shook his head and his grin came back, “B-but actually this is based off a joke that’s going to be really funny in the future. You’ll see! This is going to be great.”

She shoved aside her doubts and kissed Bruno’s cheek, “I’m sure it will be. Now, let me see if I can find that air pump.”

It took a day or two, and some help from her grandchildren, but Bruno got all of the dodgeballs inflated and stored in giant laundry sacks. He put the sacks of balls on a wagon and took it into town, leaving it in the town square. 

On the wagon he hung a sign that said “Only people that can aim with the accuracy of Apollo may receive the gift of prophecy. If you want me to give you a vision, first you have to hit me with a dodgeball. You get one try, and are liable for any property damage if you miss. Anyone who misses, then pesters me for a vision regardless, will be reported to Pepa.” 

He’d signed his name in green paint, along with a little hourglass, then in parentheses put “(Oh, and to the kids, you are allowed to play with balls as much as you want, just put them back in the wagon when you’re done. (Kids can also ask me for help re-inflating the balls, adults have to take care of that themselves.))”

Alma and Julieta stood in front of the wagon, staring at the sign. On another day, Alma would have taken the time to be amused that Julieta was standing the exact same way Pedro used to when he was confused, but today she was too busy being confused herself. Confused and concerned.

“Juli, mija, I-, you know I have been trying not to ask too much of you lately, so of course you can say no, however, would you mind-?”

“Making extra arepas in case Bruno gets pummeled with red balls for the sake of a joke nobody will get for another few decades?”

“Sí.”

“I will mind, but I will do it anyway. So long as I am also allowed to pummel him with red balls.”

“…that’s fair,” Alma nodded.

As they watched, a kid ran up and read the sign. His face lit up and he dug into the laundry bag for a ball, he paused long enough to smile politely at Alma and Julieta, then ran off with the ball held over his head.

“Guys, guys, el Señor Bruno is lending us this brand new ball,” he shouted, presumably at the other boys down the street.

“Well, at least he’s making the kids happy,” Julieta noted.

“Indeed.”

They stared at the wagon for another few seconds, then Alma sighed through her nose and walked away. Julieta fell into step beside her a second later. When Alma spared the wagon one last glance, Osvaldo was reaching into a bag for one of the balls.

She sent a silent prayer to God, Mother Mary, and any saint who felt like listening that this wouldn’t end with her son being grievously injured.

It turned out, however, that her fears were misplaced. 

Her first update on the dodgeball situation came from Camilo the next night as they all sat down for dinner. Luisa was giving Camilo a doubtful look, repeatedly asking “Really?” to which Camilo repeatedly answered “Really!”.

When Bruno walked in, head buried in a book, Camilo cheered, “There he is! Watch this!”

Without further ado, Camilo picked up a tortilla and threw it like a frisbee at Bruno. Pepa immediately began admonishing her son, but everybody else watched the tortilla as it sailed towards Bruno’s downturned head. At the very last second, Bruno ducked and the tortilla passed over his head, hitting the wall with a quiet “thwap”.

Bruno lifted his head from his book and looked at the tortilla as it slid down the wall to the floor, then he looked at Camilo, who was applauding him.

“E-even if that had hit me, it wouldn’t count,” Bruno told him, “It has to be, y’know, a dodgeball.”

“I know, I know, but Luisa was doubting your dodging skills,” Camilo retorted, jabbing a thumb at his cousin.

“I wasn’t doubting him!” Luisa immediately said, giving Bruno an apologetic look, “I just… y’know… was having a hard time imagining Tío Bruno jump over three balls at once.”

“Myeh, that’s fair,” Bruno shrugged. He pulled a bookmark out of his pocket and closed his book around it, then sat down, the book disappearing under the table.

Alma had no doubt Bruno would be sneaking peeks at it throughout the meal.

“Three dodgeballs at once?” Isabela asked, then she wrinkled her nose, “How would that even work?”

“El Señors Garcia, Cortez, and Lopez all wanted Tío Bruno to predict how this weeks football tournament will go so they could place bets,” Camilo said, “so when they saw Tío Bruno in the market they ran to the wagon then each grabbed a ball. You shoulda seen it, they were tripping each other and shoving each other, then they all got to Tío Bruno and threw their balls at the same time. El Señor Cortez had to throw his from the ground ‘cause Garcia had tripped him. So all three balls go zooming at Tío Bruno and he doesn’t even flinch, he just jumps straight up and let the balls go past him.”

“Really?” Mirabel asked, turning to look at Bruno.

Bruno shrugged again, “I-It’s not like I didn’t get plenty of warning. They were cussing each other out the entire time.”

“Yeah, but you just jumped straight up! I swear you jumped at least as high as the roof of the bookshop,” Camilo pointed out, gesturing to indicate exactly how high Bruno had jumped.

“Oh! Like in the walls,” Mirabel said, “like how you jumped over that big hole.”

“Basically,” Bruno nodded.

“Big hole?” Alma asked, unable to keep the worry out of her voice. She knew this was in the past, but she didn’t like the idea of her son jumping over large holes when he was in the walls, unable to get help if he got injured.

“Oh, yeah, heh heh, that,” Bruno rubbed at his arm, “w-well it didn’t start out as a big hole, at first it was a little hole. I-it’s only towards the last few years in there that it, you know, got uh, got… well, big.”

Alma frowned, “That doesn’t sound very safe.”

She was doing her best not to let her fears affect the way she treated her family, but she’d found, somewhat counterintuitively, that expressing those fears helped her to move past them. Besides, when she openly expressed her concern for his safety and well-being, Bruno would smile sheepishly. In the past when she had simply said things like “Do you think that was wise?” Bruno used to hang his head, shoulders drooping.

It was a small change, but one that had made a big difference in their relationship.

“I-I was fine, it’s like Mirabel said, I just uh, I just jumped over it,” Bruno reassured her, “it uh-, I actually got really good at jumping. Hence, y’know.”

Bruno waved a hand at Camilo, who once again acted out Bruno’s jump via hand gestures.

Alma breathed out through her nose, allowing her son's words to reassure her. She smiled at him, and nodded to indicate she believed him. Bruno grinned, as pleased as ever to have helped in any small way.

Dinner continued without any more mention of dodging or balls or jumping. And it was several days before she heard another word about Bruno’s little game.

The next update on Bruno’s new rubber ball based system of distributing visions, was heralded by a lot of angry shouting at Casita’s front door. Alma stood behind the door and strongly considered if she truly wished to open it.

“The sign itself says anyone who throws a ball and misses is liable for any property damage caused,” the voice that sounded suspiciously like la Señora Rivera shouted.

“Well I wouldn’t have missed if Bruno hadn’t moved!” retorted the voice of el Señor Marius.

“What?! You expected him to stand completely still so you could hit him?” Rivera snapped, “In case you didn’t get the memo, this is called a dodgeball. Dodge-ball.”

Alma didn’t wait to hear another word, it sounded like la Señora Rivera had this well in hand. Meanwhile, Alma needed to get started on that grocery list.

As she walked away there was an insistent knock on the door while Marius shouted, “Dona Alma?! Did you know your son has set a trap in order to turn the people of Encanto against each other?!”

“It’s not a trap, you’re just a dumbass!” 

Julieta peeked her head out of the kitchen, curiously. She raised an eyebrow at her mother in a silent question. Alma tapped a finger to her lips.

“We’re not home,” she informed her in a whisper.

Julieta glanced at the door, then slowly nodded, and obediently agreed, “Sí Mamá.”

After that, news of Bruno’s little game trickled into Alma’s ears through a variety of sources. Félix passed along a message from his football team that after seeing his agility and quick reflexes, they’d be happy to have Bruno, if he was interested. Bruno, who hadn’t been invited to join anything since he was seventeen, had blushed and admitted he’d already agreed to help coach the various kid’s teams and wouldn’t have the time.

Osvaldo showed up at Casita in need of an arepa after he threw a dodgeball at Bruno and ended up hitting a particularly vengeful donkey when Bruno ducked and rolled.

Various groups of children came by Casita with flat red balls and happily asked Bruno how he had learned to cartwheel so many times in a row, or jump off walls like that, or bend over backwards the way he had.

The game stretched on for three months, and changed shape as it did so. As far as Alma could tell, the object of the game had stopped being to win a vision two weeks in. Now, the young athletes and old braggarts of the village just wanted to be the one to finally hit Bruno. New rules had been drawn up and transcribed on a sign that was hung next to the first, such as “trapping Bruno is cheating” and “handing the ball to Bruno does not count as hitting him with it” and of course “hitting somebody who looks a lot like Bruno is not ‘close enough’ and Oscar is very sick of you throwing things at him”. 

This last rule was followed by the comment “maybe Oscar should learn how to dodge”, which itself was followed by a note, presumably from Oscar, that had to be covered with black paint and a reminder that kids read that sign.

Finally, in a great twist of fate, it was Agustín who won the game of dodgeball. 

Bruno and Agustín were out with Alma, helping her pick up the last two crates of wine for Dolores’ wedding. For obvious (albeit gently stated) reasons, Agustín was carrying the complimentary chocolate that the winery had thrown in as a wedding gift. Meanwhile, Alma and Bruno each carried a crate with nine bottles of wine.

As they passed through the town square, Alma smiled when she saw a bunch of school children kicking one of the now familiar red balls around. She turned to Bruno and remarked, “If nothing else, you have brought a great deal of joy to the village children.”

Bruno chuckled sheepishly, “Yeah, that’s-. Good, happy to, uh, make people happy. I guess.”

“Oops! Sorry,” one of the kids called to all the rest when he apparently kicked the ball out of bounds, and it rolled over to them.

Agustín, being the only one with a free hand, picked the ball up and said, “I’ll take it back over to them.”

They nodded, Alma bit her tongue to say something that might sound unintentionally judgemental like “Sí, that would be best”. Idly, she tried to think of a casual, non-patronizing way of saying “The fact that you know your limits and work with them instead of getting defensive shows exactly how good of a man you are”. She supposed it would have to wait until a quiet moment, when she could take the time to properly express her admiration of her son in law’s character.

Old Alma would have been content to assume that Agustín understood how much she''d grown to respect him over the years, however Old Alma had also been content to assume that her son understood how much she loved him. And that clearly hadn’t-.

“Whoops,” Agustín yelped, interrupting Alma’s musings.

What came next, Bruno would later insist at dinner, was proof that Agustín was perhaps the most magic person in the village.

Agustín tripped over a raised cobblestone and the ball flew out of his hand. It soared towards the door of the shoe cobbler’s shop, which flew open just in time to smack the ball away. The ball shot into the center of the square, where it bounced off the front of a passing wagon. Now zooming through the air at dangerous speeds, the ball passed over head bystanders as said bystanders threw themselves to the ground. It hit the wall of the church, cutting some of its momentum but changing its trajectory. 

Straight towards Alma.

Alma had maybe three seconds at most to stare at the now rapidly incoming red ball and try to come up with a response. She couldn’t throw herself out of the way, that would mean dropping the wine. However three seconds isn’t a lot of time, and that was the only thing she could think of.

Then the ball was gone, hidden behind her son, who was suddenly standing toe to toe with her, curled protectively around his crate of wine. 

Bruno screwed up his face, and planted his feet. His body jerked as Alma heard the unmistakable sound of the ball bouncing off his back.

For a second the entire square was silent. 

Then Bruno sighed, stood up straight, turned to Agustín and said, “Oh come on!”

People cheered, children applauded, Alma half expected somebody to throw confetti. Some guys came up and firmly patted Bruno’s shoulder, telling him it was “a good way to go out”, while others shook Agustín’s hand.

It took them about an hour to get home as Agustín and Bruno unexpectedly found themselves at the center of an impromptu award ceremony. Turns out, somebody had been keeping track of how many days Bruno had gone without getting hit, and an actual medal with the exact number was being made. Agustín was handed a trophy, probably the only athletic award he would ever receive in his life, and asked to give a little speech. He stumbled through thanking his wife, and saying what a great honor this was, then hit gold with the crowd when he highlighted some of the most memorable attempts by people who were actively trying to hit Bruno.

Soon after, Bruno was convinced to make a tradition of it, although he said that he would want to put some sort of time limit on the game next time.

“M-maybe a month long event?” he had suggested, “It could be-, we could make it a whole tournament?”

Finally, they were allowed to go home as people began debating how they could turn the dodgeball game into a month-long tournament. However, even when they did get home, Bruno and Agustín were cajoled into telling the story at least six times. Bruno added more and more ridiculous ways for the ball to be tossed around the square with each re-telling.

Dinner featured the most exaggerated version of the story of all, with Camilo and Antonio happily chiming in with suggestions to encourage Bruno. And, of course, there was the very noisy debate over whether or not Agustín had magic.

"If he gets magic, I better get magic too," Félix joked, "you ain't the only one who married into this family."

Then, finally, after everything had wound down and the family was headed off to bed, finally Alma got the chance to hug her son.

“Gracias, mijo, for what you did earlier,” she whispered as she hugged him, then pulled back, cupped his blushing face, and kissed his cheek.

“It… it was nothing,” Bruno chuckled in his quiet, awkward way, “don’t mention it.”

Alma shook her head, smiling softly, “Ay, you know, you’ve always been so modest. Even when the entire village crowded around you to tell you how special your gift was, you were such a humble child.”

“O-oh?”

“Sí,” she sighed quietly, “you have always been a good son, you know that, don’t you? Even when I didn’t show it, I have always been proud of you.”

Bruno smiled down at his toes, stuttering over half aborted sentences. Eventually, he laughed quietly, then gave her a crooked half smile, his strange sense of humor glimmering in his eyes, “Right in the feels.”

Alma chuckled, shaking her head. She gave him another hug and bid him good night. It was true that she would never fully understand the things Bruno said, but she knew what he meant.

[capypub]

Bruno Madrigal (Encanto) Masterlist

Summer Wine (Completed)

Bruno Madrigal x OFC

Rating: T - M (chapters vary in rating)

Bruno can’t help but be drawn to beautiful little bartender who so openly flirted with him, unbothered by the rumors and stories. She’s everything he ever wanted to be, confident, comfortable around people, and able to bring out the best in those she serves. Over time, as they grow closer, she begins to bring out parts of him he never knew existed, courage, dominance, and perhaps a bit of jealousy…

Chapter 1 Chapter 6 Chapter 11 Chapter 16

Chapter 2 Chapter 7 Chapter 12 Chapter 17

Chapter 3 Chapter 8 Chapter 13

Chapter 4 Chapter 9 Chapter 14

Chapter 5 Chapter 10 Chapter 15

Dancing With the Double-Edged Sword (Completed)

Bruno Madrigal x OFC

Rating: T- M (Chapters Vary)

Summary: When Bruno introduced Hernando to the family, his sisters and mother thought he was simply playing games, but as they grew older and Hernando continued to grow with Bruno, they realized that he might be here to stay. After many failed attempts at “curing” Bruno, the family eventually grew used to Hernando’s presence, learning to recognize the signs of when they were interacting with Bruno and when they were interacting with Hernando. Although their personalities may differ, they continue to share the same body. Now they must learn to maneuver romance together as they pursue the same woman. Likewise, she learns how to love two versions of the same man, finding pieces in each of them that only draw her closer.

Chapter 1 Chapter 6 Chapter 11

Chapter 2 Chapter 7 Chapter 12

Chapter 3 Chapter 8 Chapter 13

Chapter 4 Chapter 9 Chapter 14

Chapter 5 Chapter 10 Chapter 15

[cloudly-moonlight]

What triggers you if you read Bruno Madrigal fanfic and what makes fanfiction so unrealistic, something that doesn't fit or look right on you.

Bruno been sexually abused then marry his abuser... (I don't understand how that work.)

Bruno marrying his bully that bullied him for years.

Bruno depending his abuser, (Unless he got stockholm syndrome). Other than that I can't think of anything to say.

There is no such thing as as an accidental kiss.... it's not real, whoever said it happenes are lying to you. Accidental kiss happen in Tv shows, movies like Kdramas and so on.

Bruno keep going back to his captors... I can't seem to put my mind through it, I don't know why but it is what it is.

Bruno in fanfiction are always so weak, timid, shy and helpless.... I want to read a strong Bruno Madrigal not a hopeless one.

I would say more but I'm working on my story for now.

Btw these are just my opinions and you don't have to agree with me.

[sorryiwasasleep]

The world can be cruel, especially if your name is Bruno Madrigal.

But sometimes, there are good parts.

When he leaves the Encanto and ditches the Madrigal name, Bruno learns some hard truths about the world, but he also finds acceptance and maybe even love.

Chapter 6: The Plan Moving Forward

[magicalmadrigals]

Why am I actually crying at some of these (facts that come out in the Encanto books) and why would they all make PERFECT prompts for one shots??? I’m getting an idea here ugh.

[novthewolf]

Encanto Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*

Camilo Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Camilo x Reader Headcanons

Camilo proposing to you

Camilo taking care of you while you're sick

Yandere!Camilo x Reader

Camilo x Reader with Shadow Magic

Camilo simping over Reader

Camilo x insecure!reader

Camilo meeting your ex-boyfriend would include

Having a secret relationship with Camilo would include

Jealous!Camilo x Reader

Camilo being the only one capable of making you laugh

Stealing Camilo's ruana would include

Camilo comforting you when you're crying

Camilo simping over Magical!Reader

Camilo saying "I love you" for the first time

Camilo reacting to Jealous!Reader

Camilo accidentally confessing his feeling to you

Dancing with Camilo Madrigal

Imagine :

None *-*-*-*-*

Dolores Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

How the Familly Madrigal react to Dolores's noise sensitivity

Imagine : None

*-*-*-*-*

Pepa Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Pepa x Reader Headcanons

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

Bruno Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Bruno Madrigal having a heavy crush on Reader Headcanons

Bruno comforting his nieces and nephews

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

Mirabel Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Having a picnic date with Mirabel Madrigal would include

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

Luisa Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

None

Imagine :

Helping Luisa Madrigal through her anxiety

*-*-*-*-*

Isabela Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Isabela dating a botanist Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

Julieta Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Julieta Madrigal x Reader Headcanons

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

The Family Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Family Madrigal helping a self-harming!Reader

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

YOUR COLOURS

━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━

Request:

I need any kind of soulmate AU , Bruno Madrigal X Reader

━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━

When you were little, your mother told you millions of times about the day she met your father, and you, loving that story, asked her to tell it to you millions of times more.

She recounted that one day, during a walk with some friends, the wind blew away the shawl around her neck and a young beautiful boy picked it up for her, as soon as his hand touched the small piece of cloth, the silk became light blue.

Until a person finds their soulmate, their eyes can only be seen in black and white, but if one of the two predestined touches the same thing in a short amount of time, the object and the world around will slowly become colourful and their love would be strong as a mountain.

The years passed and you got tired of seeing the world only in black, white, grey and all the combinations in between.

One day, you were helping a new married couple, the Mejors, to move from their parent's house to the one their friend Luisa Madrigal had built for them.

Balancing two large boxes in your arms, you crossed the street with your field of view so limited that all you could see was cardboard and because of this one of your feet caught an uneven stone.

You were prepared for hitting the floor, but someone in front of you managed to avoid your fall and with your eyes still closed in fright, you thanked the stranger and entered the couple's house.

"Where do I put these?" You asked.

"In the bedroom, please" Mrs Mejor answered.

You placed the boxes on the floor and as you were about to leave, something caught your eyes.

The bottom box, the one you actually held in your hands was slowly changing colour, from a place grey to a light brown, the tone spreading from a handprint on one side.

"Oh Dios mio" you shrieked.

"Did something broke?" Señor Mejor told you.

"No! The box... The box is changing colour, I can see its colour!" You shouted.

"One of you saw the man that helped me before?" Saying so you walked outside but there was no one to be seen.

"Y/N, that means he is your soulmate. Do not worry, Encanto is not so big" the lady tried to cheer you up.

"I know..." You murmured.

You returned home distraught and with your head in the clouds, you had waited so long for that moment and due to an unfortunate case you were not able to see him.

Not having even eaten a single bite of your food and seeing you down in spirits, your family asked you what had happened, so you told them everything, they were happy for you but sorry that you had missed that very special moment and like Mrs Major, they were confident that you would find him again.

Laying in your bed you trashed around for a while but since sleep wouldn't come you schemed and planned how to find the mysterious man.

You thought of going to the main square and touching as many surfaces as possible hoping that passing by, your soul mate could touch them in turn in a short amount of time.

You soon discarded the idea.

So you imagined of purposely losing a shoe with your name written on it and-

"Ew, that's lame! Who goes around losing shoes without realizing it?" You grunted.

Several days later you informed your father that for the whole day, you would have to help with the decorations of the village in preparation for the Spring equinox.

"Buenos Dias, Y/N" the old lady that lived in front of your house greeted you.

"Buenos Dias señora! ¿Qué se dice de bella hoy?" You asked.

"You did not hear? Bruno Madrigal returned home!" She whispered.

"The one with precognition powers? Mama told me about him once but I was just a kid back then"

"I saw him going that way, be careful, he cause misfortune!" And she pointed the direction with one of her bony fingers.

You lined the streets with decorations and flowers of which colours you could not even imagine, helped by the only member of the Madrigals that could actually create flowers out of nowhere.

The ebb and flow of time seemed to slow to a halt, even the slow setting of the sun took you by surprise and climbing down from the ladder you were on, you saw a stranger talking with Isabela.

He was strangely fascinating and you found yourself staring at him for a few moments until you managed to disenchant yourself.

The man had long curly black hair with grey streaks and looked like he hasn't had a day of sleep in months since his prominent eyebags were impossible to ignore.

He wears a ruana two sizes bigger that has seen better days over a shirt, pants, and a pair of sandals.

"Hello! I'm Y/N, nice to meet you" you said greeting him cheerfully.

You extended your hand but looking at it he took a step backwards, staring at you in disbelief.

"You don't know me?" He demanded.

"No, that's why I'm presenting myself" You responded perplexed.

"I'm Bruno Madrigal, you certainly have heard about me and what I am" told the man fidgeting with his oversized ruana.

"I have, nevertheless, I'm glad to finally meet you" you smiled gently.

He was about to reach for your hand when a cascade of flowers dropped on your head, Bruno tried to catch them but they just brushed his fingers.

"I'm so sorry," Isabella said sincerely "one of the big flower decorations just broke right above you!"

"I'm fine! No need to worry " you laughed but Bruno was walking away.

The flowers on the floor became blue and bright pink, the ground became dark brown and all the rest of the world took finally colour, but as beautiful as it was you didn't care about that.

"Bruno wait!" You called after him.

"No, please. I don't know what you're seeing but there's a mistake." He blurted walking faster.

"We're seeing the same thing! Slow down!" You ran in front of him and blocked his way extending your arms wide open.

"I'm probably older than your parents, don't do this to yourself..." He tried to convince you.

"I've waited all my life for you! Now that I find you...you don't want me, do you?" Your eyes were filling with tears and your heart was hammering in your chest.

He softened a bit "You're my soulmate...I think I'm in love with you, even before you introduced yourself, actually...I've been seeing colours for days, since the time I helped you to not fall."

"You what?" It was your turn to be frightened.

"You touched my clothes, maybe you didn't realize it. Suddenly I was seeing the world as it is and...I ran away." He admitted.

"Why? Tell me why you didn't tell me about it" You implored, grabbing him weakly from his clothes.

"You are so beautiful and young...I didn't make it. I believed there was a mistake. I never had happiness so I thought I wasn't worth it. Or worth of you" he explained, looking down at his sandals.

"Worth of me? We're destined to be together from the day we were born, Bruno. Somewhere in the universe is written that you're made for me as I'm made for you" you said placing your hand on his cheeks, rubbing the skin lovingly with your thumbs "You're perfect and if you'll look into our future, you'll see me always by your side"

Bruno was positively crying at that point, hiding his face in your neck as you held him tight, he was mumbling apologies between sobs and you shushed him gently until he recovered.

"Colours are beautiful, aren't they?" He questioned letting you go and still sniffing a bit.

"Yeah, but nothing compared to you." You responded, stealing a quick peck.

Bruno reddened like a child caught with his hands in a cookie jar, so you stole another kiss but that time he reciprocated.

"I believe my family would love you" he expressed taking one of your hands in his.

You brushed a curly strand from his face, marvelled at how gorgeous were his features and the colour of his eyes.

"You know what? I want to meet them!" You informed him.

"I have to tell you, sometimes they are a bit too much" he wanted you, walking on the way home.

"They seem wonderful, just like you," you said with a laugh.

As the sun disappeared behind the high mountains of Encanto, you walked hand in hand with your soulmate and just at that moment you realized that it's not finding the right person that makes you see the colour of the world all of the sudden but love and being loved surely does.

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Technology from 1870-1899 (For Encanto fic writers)

So, A mutual of mine @miracles-and-butterfliess pointed out that everyone (including me) tends to forget that Encanto was literally made when the triplets were born. Which is literally 1900 or 1901. Regardless, it was the very beginning of the 19th century so let me tell you about the technology/things they would/wouldn’t have. (And please keep in mind that most of these may or may not have been imported into Colombia yet.) 

1870 - 1879

1872—A.M. Ward creates the first mail-order catalog. NO

1873—Joseph Glidden invented barbed wire. NO

1876—Alexander Graham Bell patents the telephone. NO

1876—Nicolaus August Otto invents the first practical four-stroke internal combustion engine. NO

1876—Melville Bissell patents the carpet sweeper. NO?

1878—Thomas Edison invents the cylinder phonograph (known then as the tin foil phonograph). MAYBE

1878—Eadweard Muybridge invents moving pictures. NO?

1878—Sir Joseph Wilson Swan invents the prototype for a practical electric lightbulb. YES? 

1879—Thomas Edison invented the first commercially viable incandescent electric light bulb. NO?

1880 - 1889

1880—The British Perforated Paper Company debuts toilet paper. YES

1880—English inventor John Milne creates the modern seismograph. NO

1881—David Houston patents camera film in roll format. NO?

1884—Lewis Edson Waterman invents the first practical fountain pen. YES

1884—L. A. Thompson built and opened the first roller coaster in the United States at a site on Coney Island, New York. NO

1884—James Ritty invents a functional mechanical cash register. YES?

1884—Charles Parson patents the steam turbine. NO

1885—Karl Benz invented the first practical automobile powered by an internal-combustion engine. NO (even before Encanto, Alma’s town looked rural so I doubt the automobile reached them yet.)

1885—Gottlieb Daimler invented the first gas-engine motorcycle. NO

1886—John Pemberton introduces Coca-Cola. NO

1886—Gottlieb Daimler designs and builds the world's first four-wheeled automobile. NO

1887—Heinrich Hertz invents radar. NO

1887—Emile Berliner invented the gramophone. YES

1887—F.E. Muller and Adolph Fick invented the first wearable contact lenses. NO

1888—Nikola Tesla invents the alternating current motor and transformer. NO

1890 - 1899

1891—Jesse W. Reno invents the escalator. NO

1892—Rudolf Diesel invents the diesel-fueled internal combustion engine, which he patents six years later. NO

1892—Sir James Dewar invents the Dewar vacuum flask. NO

1893—W.L. Judson invents the zipper. NO (zippers didn’t become popular globally until a little bit later; buttons, ribbons/laces and whatever else were still the norm/in fashion for fastening and tying (which is still the case in some places today)

1895—Brothers Auguste and Louis Lumière invent a portable motion-picture camera that doubles as a film-processing unit and projector. The invention is called the Cinematographe and using it, the Lumières project the motion picture for an audience. NO?

1899—J.S. Thurman patents the motor-driven vacuum cleaner. NO (if you're running from being killed, the last thing you're going to bring is a vacuum cleaner) 

I remember a post listing the sort of jobs there would be in Encanto but I forgot so I’ll just list the ones I know (let me know if I need to add anything.): 

Seamstress/tailor

Embellisher

Field worker 

Teacher (of any kind; music, dance, art, etc)

Woodworker - wood carver

Toy maker

Construction worker

Joining a Local band/ Orchestra - being apart of a choir 

Carpenter 

Metal worker 

Jeweler (though I’m not sure if Jewelery of the diamond/gem kind is common in Encanto)

bladesmith/ knifemaker 

Inventor? (Inventors should exist in Encanto by now…just one other genius besides Mirabel?)

I know some of these are very obvious but I’m just giving people options okay? 

@miracles-and-butterflies you seem to know a lot more about this kind of stuff so if you have anything to add/take away or me to fix please let me know. I tried to search up “When was X invention imported into Colombia” and literally nothing of use comes up. 

[noellemadrigal]

If you’re lost you can look and you will find me, time after time ✨💚

[usedtobeguest123]

Happy Birthday to Antonio!

Everything was green and fluttering, flickering warm and glowing like a candle flame…or maybe like a butterfly’s wings. A thousand resonant voices surrounded him, bodiless, singing all at once.  Let the way be open.  A fluff of brown hair under his hand, the flash of a smile. Big mahogany eyes, bright and laughing.  Sing through my voice, play through my hands.  A man in the distance, standing tall, strong and sure, surrounded by fluttering green resplendence, glowing. Movement all around, shuffling, scuffling, purring, cooing, calling. Now closer, the umbre skin of his face warm with golden sunlight. Eyes serious, but lit deep within from a joy that was somehow familiar.  Let the way be open.  That joy, glowing, on a smaller face, in the same eyes. Sing through my voice. Play through my hands.  A hand in his.  Let the way be open.  Let the way be open. Bruno gasped himself awake, sputtering on sand and wincing at the sharp scrabble of tiny claws across his body. He sat up, a hand to his chest, rubbing at the scrapes left behind by the startled rats, rubbing at his heart. The glow of his magic was dimming in his chest, fading like after a vision.  Was that a vision?

To celebrate, some art of older Antonio inspired by chapter 7 of my fic La Traes

[foggyfanfic]

Of Men and Yelling

Oneshot Summary: Continuation of Love and Fury. Bruno's eldest child contemplates the difference between his old father and his new father.

Main Story Masterlist

Gabriel’s madré had been a very quiet woman, and his father had been too loud for her to stand. Or at least that’s what he assumed. He had been told she left soon after he could walk. He often wondered why she hadn’t taken him with her, but he figured that his old father just plain old hadn’t let her.

Gabriel’s old father was very loud and he had had a lot of rules that he wanted Gabriel to follow. Not all of which made sense.

Gabriel’s new Tío Félix was also very loud, but in a distinctly happy way. His laughter echoed off the walls, he frequently cheered when one of the children showed him pictures they drew or cool rocks they found, sometimes he would get excited and shout the punchline of his joke. He was loud in a good way, and although it sometimes startled him, Gabriel liked the way his new Tío was loud.

His other new Tío could be loud too, but always incidentally. Tío Agustín might yelp when he tripped, or shout compliments at his wife over the clanking of pots and pans, or, just like Tío Félix, get overly excited on behalf of the kids.

His new Tías and new Mamí would also get loud sometimes, but in his experience, girls getting loud wasn’t the same as boys getting loud. When his father got loud, his Abuelo would tell Gabriel to grab his Tía and wait with her and the baby in the nursery until everything was quiet again. Sometimes, it would take hours for things to get quiet, and when they did, all the men in the house would be grumpy and snappish.

When his Tía had gotten loud, Abuelo would hug her and say strange things like, “There’ll be enough money by the end of the year” or “Just a little bit longer”. One or two times Abuelo said, in a voice like a reminder, “you promised to take Gabe with you”.

Gabriel used to wonder where his Tía was going to take him, now he wondered if his Tía would have brought him here to the Madrigals. Or if his Abuelo did this purely out of desperation.

Gabriel’s new father never got loud.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. You would think that if yelling led to hiding in a nursery, then quiet should be alright. Good even. 

But when his old father had suddenly gotten quiet, it just meant there wasn’t enough warning to grab his Tía. There wouldn’t have been any warning at all if Gabriel hadn’t wanted to check on his baby cousin. Gabriel had walked in to see his father picking the toddler up, she had fussed and he had shaken her so violently, Gabe hadn’t been able to hold back a scream.

His father had put her down and turned on Gabriel instead.

Next thing Gabriel knew, he was with the Madrigals. His Abuelo was practically begging his new parents to take him in, despite the fact that his new Mamí was already saying they would. When they managed to reassure Gabriel’s Abuelo they would love him as their own, he had left, supposedly to bring his Tía to Encanto too.

Gabriel had soon learned his baby cousin was also with the Madrigals. He had watched, struck dumb with horror, as his new father had carried her into the room. The little girl had pulled at his new father’s long curls, and although his new father had hissed and grimaced, he hadn’t yelled, he hadn’t shaken her, or even glared. He had just grabbed her little wrist between two careful fingers and pulled her hand loose.

The next thing Gabriel learned was that “Corazon” was not, in fact, a name but a term of endearment. It was what his Tía and Abuelo had always called his little cousin, so he had assumed it was her name.

And apparently his Abuelo hadn’t said her name before he left.

“Well, that’s alright, Señor Gutiérrez will bring her Má back soon, and then she can tell us her name,” his new Mamí had reasoned.

But that was a month ago. And his Tía hadn’t come. Neither had his Abuelo.

His new father had climbed up all the stairs in his giant room and had come down with a glowing green rectangle. He had shown it to Mamí and she had looked first very happy, then almost sad.

“G-guess we should pick out a name for her,” his new father had said.

“Guess so,” Mamí had nodded, then sighed, “Ay poor girl. Do you think we’ll ever know what happened?”

“If we will, I didn’t see it.”

That was two days ago, now Gabriel was sat beside his Mamí at the kitchen table, drawing a picture while his parents bandied name suggestions back and forth.

“I still like your idea,” Mamí hummed, drumming a finger against her lips.

“Waiting until she’s old enough to name herself?” his new father asked, with a crooked grin.

“No,” Mamí chuckled while shaking her head, “about naming her something to do with love.”

“It would be kinda cute if her name was Corazon.”

“Oh sure, when she’s a kid. What about when she’s in her forties and negotiating with some belligerent di- jerk in the market?”

“Well why are belligerent jerks being rude to her? Don’t they know she’s our daughter and therefore perfect,” he huffed, and he was scowling, but by now Gabriel knew he wasn’t actually angry unless his mouth was screwed up in a frown.

Or at least, Gabriel thought that was what anger looked like on his new father. He didn’t act all that angry though, angrier than normal, sure, but not angry angry.

“Sadly, this belligerent jerk is an idiot who doesn’t realize our children are the most important people in the world,” Mamí replied, pretending to be sad.

She wasn’t actually sad. His new Mamí was never truly sad, not the way his Tía had been whenever his Tío had to leave for work. Gabriel had mentioned his Tío, that his little cousin had a father out there somewhere who didn’t yell that much and drove ships for a living and knew stuff about the stars. A father that often bragged about having another wife in some other far off port, whenever Gabriel’s Tia wasn’t in the room. Gabriel had suggested that maybe his Tío’s other wife would want to raise Corazon, and all of the adults had exchanged nervous glances. His new father had checked anyway, but hadn’t seen his Tío coming for his cousin either. That had made his Mamí a little more sad but still not as sad as his Tía always was.

The baby cousin in question, was sitting in his Mamí’s lap. Although at this point, Leandra was probably going to be both their mother. Gabriel paused in his drawing, staring down at the little rats circling Mamí’s dog on the page. If they were going to have the same parents, that made them brother and sister, right?

He waited for a break in the adult’s conversation so he could ask, but his new parents talked fast, trading jokes back and forth at lightning speed. They smiled at eachother like Tía smiled at her best friend, then every once in a while Mamí would giggle and his new father’s smile would get sort of melty, or his new father would snort while he laughed and Mamí looked like she might start glowing she was so happy.

Eventually, Gabriel gave up and figured he could ask his parents later.

They were back to suggesting names at eachother, naming off women known for being loved.

“I don’t know about Helena, sounds too-, I don’t know. I’m just not a fan. What about Marilyn?”

“Marilyn? Whose Marilyn?”

“Monroe.”

“From your visions?”

“Sí.”

“Not bad, let’s put it on the list.”

“Oh. The list. We should probably be making an actual list, huh?”

Gabriel frowned down at his drawing, as far as he knew, it was the only paper in the room, but he didn’t really want to part with it. He was really proud of the way the rats were turning out.

“I think so, it’s what the others did when they had to choose baby names,” Mamí got up, taking his cousin/sister with her, “I’ll go grab some paper, a pen, and maybe some books? Shakespeare may have some good suggestions.”

“Oh! Oh! And Neruda, grab my copy of Neruda,” his father said, almost loudly, but not quite.

She nodded, paused long enough to kiss both her husband and Gabriel on the cheek, then walked out of the room.

Then Gabriel was alone with his new father.

He never knew what to do when he was left alone with his new father, he didn’t know what the rules were. His old father wanted him to sit quietly and listen to his stories even when they were boring or weird. His new father though? Who knew what he wanted.

“What you drawing mijo?” his new father asked quietly, he was always especially quiet when he was talking to Gabriel.

“Your rats with Mamí’s dog,” he answered, not sure whether he should hand the picture over or keep his head down.

“Hmm, oh sí! Very nice, I like the shape you chose for the rats, makes them look extra cute,” he said, leaning over so he could see the picture without Gabriel having to do anything.

Gabriel scribbled in some flowers so he wouldn’t have to look up at his new father, “Is Corazon going to be my sister now?”

“Um, I guess so, although I think it’s fine if you guys decide that for yourselves,” he shrugged, “you can still be cousins if you want to, or you can be siblings. Just like how Leandra and I understand if you’re not ready to call us Má and Pá.”

They had told him this before, but he didn’t really get what they meant. They were in charge of him and his cousin/sister now, that made them their mother and father. What exactly did he need to be ready for?

He didn’t ask, sometimes when he asked questions his Mamí would get sad, at least as sad as she got. She would hug him and tell him she loved him, which was nice, and he got the feeling she was trying to answer his questions. However, if he asked “Why do you and father keep tucking me in?” and she answered “Because we love you”, then he still didn’t understand why they went through the trouble of telling him stories every night. His old father said he loved Gabriel, and he never tucked him in or told him stories.

“Did you want more juice?” his new father asked, after Gabriel didn’t respond for a long time, standing and picking up his own cup.

Gabriel looked at the long since empty glass that he’d been largely ignoring. He nodded and grabbed the cup, turning in his seat to hand it to his new father.

“Sí, por favor.”

His new father’s fingers wrapped around the cup and Gabriel thought he had it, so he let go. He was wrong. The cup slipped out of his new father’s fingers and fell to the ground, crashing onto the tile and into a million tiny pieces.

Gabriel froze.

“Oops, let me just grab the broom,” his new father said. 

He barely heard him. His heart started pounding in his ears, drowning everything else out. For whatever reason, he kept picturing his old father coming towards him in the nursery. Right before Gabriel’s memory went black, his old father had scowled darkly, but he hadn’t yelled. 

Gabriel jumped into action, slipping out of his chair and bending to pick up the big pieces. He faintly heard his new father say his name, he faintly felt the sting of jagged edged glass, he faintly noticed the tears running down his cheeks. But for the most part, the only thing he could focus on was picking up the glass as quickly as possible. Fixing the mistake he made.

Until a much larger hand closed around his wrist and his new father yelled, “Gabriel! Stop! Drop the glass!”

Heart beating in his ears, Gabriel dropped the glass then flinched when one of the pieces broke further. He didn’t dare look up at his new father.

His new father had a raspy voice, and usually the rasp served to make his gentle voice sound even gentler. Like velvet. However, it now served to make his voice sound like a growl as his new father tried to get Gabriel to step away from the glass.

He wanted to do as he was told, but he found himself strangely, horribly, frozen.

The hand left his wrist and instead Gabriel was lifted into the air, for a split second, all he could think about was how his old father had shaken his cousin when she fussed. Without fully meaning to, he went limp.

His new father sat him down next to the sink, grabbed his wrist again, and bent over Gabriel’s palm.

“Ay, you’re bleeding mijo,” he sounded pained.

Through the blur of tears, Gabriel watched as his new father cleaned his hand then bandaged it. He was talking all the while, explaining what he was doing, warning when something might sting, and telling Gabriel what the next steps were. But Gabriel could barely hear him over the sound of his beating heart and hitching breaths.

Fingers lifted his chin, and he looked up into his new father’s soft hazel eyes.

“I’m not angry mijo, you’re not in trouble,” his voice was a quiet whisper that cut through the fog Gabriel was in like a knife, “I only shouted to get your attention, and I’m sorry if I scared you. B-but please, I-I don’t want you to get hurt. If something like that happens again, leave the mess where it is and let an adult handle it. Alright? It’s just a cup. You’re more important.”

Gabriel couldn’t respond at first. For a split second he felt relief wash through him, his Papá wasn’t angry, then something inside of him snapped and he was crying so hard he thought he might puke. 

“Gabriel?” Papá asked, “Wha-? It’s alright, you’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Slim arms wrapped around him, enveloping him in soft green wool. He clung to his Papá, sobbing on his shoulder and soaking his green ruana through with snot and tears. Papá held him firmly, one hand cupping the back of his head.

He finally managed to calm down when his Mamí returned with a bag of books under one arm and his cousin/sister on her hip. She asked something Gabriel couldn’t fully hear, probably why he was crying.

“I dropped a glass and he tried picking it up and cut himself,” his Papá explained, “I-I think I may have scared him while trying to get him to leave it.”

“He doesn’t look scared of you,” Mamí pointed out.

“Um, I think- I mean I don’t know, b-but based off the things Señor Gutiérrez said about Cicero’s parenting style, I think-. He doesn’t need to be afraid of me to be scared by me. Does that make sense?”

“I know what you mean,” Mamí set the books down and joined the hug, pressing a kiss into Gabriel’s hair, “don’t worry mijo, we won’t let anyone hurt you. You know, Bruno once beat Cicero in a fight.”

Papá snorted, “I snuck up behind him and hit him with a rock. Bruce Lee I am not.”

Hiccuping, but no longer sobbing, Gabriel wondered if he should know who Bruce Lee is.

“You still managed to save me from him,” Mamí said, then, “you’re safe here mijo. Nobody’s going to hurt you, not so long as Bruno is around and there are rocks in the world.”

He finally managed to stop crying all together and lifted his head from Papá’s shoulder. He looked up to his Papá’s face and found a warm smile waiting for him.

“Better?” he asked, voice back to a quiet rasp.

Gabriel nodded, “B-better.”

“Bien,” Papá said, he kissed Gabriel’s forehead then said, “how about you have some water, then we’ll go see your Tía Juli for an arepa, huh?”

“Alright,” Gabriel nodded again.

He drank the water he was given while his parents cleaned up the glass. He watched them as they smiled at eachother, bandying about more name ideas, and occasionally shooting him warm looks. 

He could walk just fine, but Papá carried him to the market square where Tía Julieta was set up anyway. He said that he just felt like hugging his son for a little longer.

On the journey over, Gabriel thought about yelling, and men, and the reasons men yelled, a little bit more.

His old fa- Cicero, had yelled when he was angry.

His Tíos yelled when they were happy or surprised.

His Papá yelled when he was worried about the people he loved.

His Tíos’ reasons for yelling were pretty good, but Gabriel thought that his Papá’s reasons were best.

[capypub]

Dancing with the Double-Edged Sword (Epilogue)

Bruno Madrigal x OFC

Chapter Rating: G (fluffy ending)

(Masterlist)

“Marry me,” he murmured into her hair, inhaling the faint floral scent, his eyes closed in complete relaxation. 

She sighed, but remained curled up against his chest. “Go to sleep, Hernando.”

“I will if you say yes,” he argued, grinning against her temple.

“We’ve already talked about this, amor,” she grumbled into his shirt.

“Tell me again,” he insisted, the smirk obvious in his tone.

          Over the past year, Mila’s relationship with Bruno/Hernando has blossomed into something unimaginably beautiful. They had witnessed both his sisters marry and Juli welcomed the first of the next line of Madrigals to the world, a beautiful girl named Isabella. Bruno gradually became more comfortable with acting on his desires when it came to Mila. Hernando had developed a sudden desire for weddings and marriage shortly after Pepa’s ceremony. Mila suspected that he may actually just be developing the beginnings of baby fever. 

          She noticed how excellently both sides of her lover engaged with the infant now running around the house. No matter how hard he tried, he could not hide his adoration for his niece that reflected in his face every time they were in the same room. 

“When the padre returns from his mission work we’ll be the first to see him,” she mumbled slowly, half asleep as she repeated the same things she had been saying since he first proposed in private. 

          They had not told their families. Hernando had been very secretive with obtaining a ring and getting Mila alone long enough to ask the question. They had been in the same field where Bruno had first told her he loved her.  

“When should we tell them?” he asked, rubbing gentle circles into her hip with his thumb. 

“Tomorrow, go to sleep, Nando,” she huffed, blindly reaching up to cover his eyes with her hand, yawning as she turned around and curled deeper into the sheets. 

He chuckled, having learned quickly that Mila valued her sleep more than anything. Moving closer to her, he pulled her against his chest, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair as he settled deeper into the pillows. 

Smiling softly, he kissed Mila’s bare shoulder, realizing she had quickly fallen asleep by the slow, deep exhales of her body against his chest.

We did good, didn’t we, hermano…?

“Yeah we did, Bruno…yeah we did…” Hernando murmured, the small smile remaining as he slipped into sleep.

[naoko-world]

Today is my birthday! And I decided to give myself a gift I asked ARPHatack to make! Thank you to her! I'm happy! Perlita and Bruno are perfect!

[magicalmadrigals]

I had the idea to do a fanfiction about what would happen if the Madrigals didn’t get their magic back at the end of the movie, but went on to have occupations of sorts linked to their past gifts. Julieta becomes something of a doctor with Isa helping her come up with plant-based remedies, Luisa helping out where she can with construction of things, Gus potentially being a music teacher for the children in Encanto…things like that.

I was just wondering if anyone would read it if I go ahead and do it? I’m quite excited about it, but I wanna make sure there’s an audience for it before I start working on it.

[knoepfl]

Christmas As It Should Be

9/24

Characters

• Bruno Madrigal: A shy and awkward member of the Madrigal family, adjusting to being part of holiday celebrations after years of isolation.

• Reader (You): Warm, understanding, and determined to make Bruno feel included and cherished during the festivities.

Trigger Warnings

• Themes of isolation: References to past loneliness and struggles with belonging.

• Emotional vulnerability: Exploration of Bruno’s feelings of insecurity and hesitance to connect.

Masterlist

Words: 737

But he wasn’t quite in the center of it.

---

The Madrigal household was alive with holiday cheer, the grand dining room decorated with colorful garlands, twinkling candles, and an impressive array of food spread across the table. It was Christmas Eve, and for the first time in years, Bruno was among the bustle of his family.

Bruno stood off to the side, shifting awkwardly by the wall, his green ruana draped over his hunched shoulders. His eyes darted nervously around the room, watching as his family laughed, exchanged gifts, and shared stories. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be there—he did. It was just… overwhelming.

You noticed him almost immediately. Bruno had a way of blending into the background, but you had always been able to find him, even when others couldn’t.

“Hey,” you said softly, approaching him with a warm smile. “Hiding out already?”

Bruno startled slightly, then relaxed when he saw you. “Oh, no, I’m not hiding,” he said quickly, though his voice wavered. “Just, uh… taking it all in.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him. “Come on, Bruno. It’s Christmas. You’re supposed to be celebrating, not standing in the shadows.”

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not really the center-of-the-party type, you know? Besides, everyone’s got their own thing going on. They don’t need me hovering around.”

You frowned, stepping closer. “That’s not true. They’re happy you’re here. I’m happy you’re here.”

Bruno’s gaze softened, and he glanced down at his hands. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I’m not even sure I know how to ‘celebrate’ anymore.”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in festive cheer,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Come on. You’re not spending Christmas hiding in the corner.”

Before he could protest, you led him to the center of the room, where Mirabel was organizing a group activity. It was a simple game of charades, but the laughter and camaraderie were infectious.

Bruno hesitated for a moment before finally joining in, his initial awkwardness giving way to genuine enjoyment. His family cheered him on, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his face lit up when he got a word right, his laughter blending seamlessly with theirs.

Later, when the games wound down and everyone gathered around the dining table, you found yourself sitting beside him. He seemed more relaxed now, his usual nervous energy tempered by the warmth of the evening.

“This is nice,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the chatter around you.

You turned to him, your smile soft. “It is. And you deserve to be part of it, Bruno. You belong here.”

He looked at you, something unspoken passing between you. For a moment, the noise of the room faded, and it was just the two of you.

When the meal was finished and gifts were exchanged, you presented him with a small, neatly wrapped package.

“You got me something?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

“Of course,” you said, handing it to him. “It’s Christmas.”

Bruno carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a handmade journal with a cover embroidered in shades of green and gold. Inside, the first page bore a simple inscription: For the stories you’ll write and the visions you’ll share.

He stared at the gift, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he looked up at you, his eyes glistening. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “This… this means a lot.”

“You mean a lot,” you replied, your hand brushing against his.

Bruno’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

As the evening drew to a close, the Madrigals gathered around the glowing candle at the center of the table, their voices rising in a heartfelt rendition of a traditional Christmas song. Bruno’s voice, though hesitant at first, soon joined theirs, blending harmoniously with his family’s.

You stood beside him, your hand slipping into his. He glanced at you, his smile now fully unguarded, and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

For the first time in years, Bruno felt like he belonged—not just to his family, but to you. And as the candlelight danced in his eyes, he realized that this Christmas, he wasn’t just celebrating the holiday. He was celebrating hope, love, and the warmth of being truly seen.

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