#encanto fanfic

[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.

[whycl4rk]

Is there anyone alive in the encanto fandom? my passion for the movie came back and I wish I had friends to talk about it with

[glendybluebird]

Juanito Madrigal✨🧡

The "Copy Cat". He will have the gift of copying others' gifts temporarily in times of need.

Juanito almost looks like a replica of his papa, but he behaves oppositely to Camilo. He's the little angel. He's a soft little boy, very sweet, very timid and humble, and he's so attached to his mami. He's never mischievous like his dad and his older siblings. That's how he is, even while he is growing up.

Funfact:

His mami calls him gatito sometimes

He's afraid of scissors

He randomly stares at his papa for long periods and loves watching him perform.

He loves copying his brother Carlos' power just to turn himself into a cat. (In the future)

[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. 

[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

[hashtagboykisser]

I remembered that Camilo is 5'3" yesterday and I'm 5'4":3c I just wanted to know how Cami would be like with a 5'4" Reader who occasionally wears heels that make them 5'6" as well, I dunno lolol

CAMILO X READER !!

“TIP TOES” !!

prompt: camilo madrigal with 5’4 reader in heels

requested by: wonderful anon<3

warnings: fem presenting reader and she/her pronouns

“oh my, 'milo!!” you shouted, as camilo crazily spun you around at the very crowded party at the somewhat newly built casita.

“hold on, mi placer, here’s a big one!” the curly haired colombian roared as he dipped you as the two of you danced together.

“'milo..” you whispered in his ear, catching his attention.

“yes, amor?” he cooed gently, softening his light tone as he cup your cheeks, worrying that something may be wrong.

“i just wanna get out for a bit, can we go for a small walk?”

“of course, anything for you, mi querido amor”

the two of you venture outside of the casita’s walls, as you finally make it into the town, fingers intertwined and locked in, camilo stops and turns to face you.

but he realizes, your not at his eye level anymore…

he looks up at your eyes, the ones he fell in love with not too long ago, and smiled.

“i love it when you wear heels, mi sol.” camilo said, leaving sloppy kisses on your jawline.

“is that so?” you ask with a furrowed brow and chuckle.

“it’s certain, and do you know what else is certain?”

“what?”

“my love for you.”

hey hey it’s hermy!

sorry this is kinda short, i just thought since it was a small idea it’d be a small fic :)

but i hope u like it anon!!

-hermy

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

In your Constellations Shift story, how would the townsfolk react to Bruno being confirmed as the next candle holder? Any people seeking forgiveness, showing genuine remorse, possible brown nosing?

My plans was for a mix of "all of the above." Some people would feel genuinely sorry, others would just be trying to cover their own asses

However, I did have one moment planned with Osvaldo!

Bruno wasn't surprised to hear people mutter this was somehow his fault. Bad Luck Bruno and blah blah blah. He rolled his eyes, biting back the urge to snap, "Do I look like I care?"

His mother had bawled her eyes out on his shoulder, clinging to him and begging forgiveness. He, his nieces and sisters, had discovered that Julieta's Gift was capable of some truly insane things just before Casita fell. As Casita collapsed, as Bruno raced after Mirabel in her mad dash for the Candle...

Well. What she'd shouted at Alma had proven true. His hand glowed with the same mark Alma had, only his was on his palm. There and gone again, blazing to life as his hand brushed against the Miracle when he tried to pull Mirabel away.

Wonderful, stubborn girl. Too brave for her own good.

But anyway- compared to all that insanity, a few mutters and scowls didn't make a dent.

He was in for a surprise though. As Manuel Sanchez glared at Bruno and not-so-quietly said to his lackeys that he knew who to blame for Casita's collapse, the Miracle's death and the new mountain pass, Osvaldo spoke up.

"Don't talk about my friend like that!" Osvaldo snapped. For such a happy-go-lucky guy, he suddenly looked ferocious. "He didn't do anything wrong! Now are you going to help or just stand around and whine?"

He saw Félix's mouth drop open. Pepa regarded Osvaldo with new and sudden respect in her eyes. Mirabel squealed outright, hands clasped together. Isabela just said, "Huh...What do ya know?" staring at Osvaldo like she'd never seen him before.

Bruno tried and failed to comprehend what Osvaldo just said.

As Manuel and his idiot brigade took the hint and dispersed, Bruno said, "Um...Thanks, Osvaldo. You didn't have to do that."

"Sure I did," Osvaldo said with a shrug and a smile, more like his usual, guileless self. "What are friends for?"

Friends. Seriously? Were they...

Suddenly, Bruno looked back at the last forty-five years of knowing Osvaldo in a new light. The clumsy attempts at conversation, the loud proclamations that not being special didn't matter, the (seemingly) judgmental questions about his rats and the books he read...That hadn't been Osvaldo being a busy-body, had it? Osvaldo thought they were friends. The "Not Special-Special" had actually been an attempt to cheer Bruno up, hadn't it?

Díos mio, Bruno thought blankly. Osvaldo had never been mean, certainly not, but Bruno always thought of him as...well-meaning but oblivious.

Apparently more well-meaning than Bruno had realised.

He felt like a total ass.

"Uh, sure," he agreed hurriedly. "Friends."

[maddascanbe-blog]

Meet our lovely Mariposa family! (Okay technically Dama Mariposa should have been here too- but who really cares about her *cough*)

Bellona Nyx, fun fact, has become one of my least favorite designs for Mirabel overtime. Like- I don't think it's particularly bad but I definitely wouldn't design her that way now. Her hero outfit as Mariposa is one I greatly prefer. I cut her cloak for this drawing since I didn't want it crowding Antonio

Morado Rey meanwhile is probably one of my favorite butterfly designs in general! He's just so cute, simple, but so very adorable. Though I can't decide between him and Azure.

Satyrin! How did you find me!?! Have you crawled your way out from my nightmares!?

I hated drawing him. Hate. I had such a bad time trying to design him when I first wrote A Petty Ladybug. It's part of the reason I abandoned it, all of the designs were giving me trouble. Here I tried to combine his poncho/ruana with the wings idea, also the man ponytail and old man shoes were a must. Who do you think I am? Since it's Bruno I imagine he's not a very flashy Papillion. So he's very grey with only one real purple in the mix.

[selcaby]

Merry Christmas! I haven’t written much this year, but here’s the Christmas story I posted a year ago.

It’s Noche Buena (Christmas Eve) in the new Casita, and there’s a Christmassy surprise on the dinner table, courtesy of Bruno and Mirabel. But Bruno hasn’t turned up to eat. Alma goes to talk to him.

[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. 🧡💚💙

[atenamex]

New encanto Fanfic? yes; El misterio del encanto.

A fanfic about Encanto where the town remains the same, but the outside world is modern? Where powerful people know of the existence of a hidden magical town and search for it? Where a stranger meets the Madrigals and protects the Encanto with them? This is your fic, baby.

"El misterio del encanto."

The fic may contain some mature themes and various topics for the googles, such as Ahnenerbe, Real Places, etc.

comment to post the story link

[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.

[whycl4rk]

It's the same hair bow, right? They're so cute

[glendybluebird]

Kinda late, but HAPPY NEW YEAR🎉🎊🪅🥂🥳

I had no idea what to draw🥹I even have a few WIP drawings before this that I never got to finish🥲 I was also so upset that I wasn't able to get the foreshortening right in this piece🤣 Oh well😌... I'll take note of that and practice more.😚

🐦2023 has been the most intense roller coaster ride of problems and emotions I have had so far. It both made me flash back to all of my past traumas (which are confidential) and made me feel more pressured about my future than I'd ever been. I was a wreck. But it was also the year I had a lot of realizations. Maybe it was a year for growth... For 2024, I won't make any promises to myself or anyone; I'll just keep on figuring things out and experimenting.

 

🐦Thank you to those who stayed with me and kept supporting me. 🥰✨I hope you'll still be with me till I finally bloom. LOVE LOTS💖💞

I forgot to mention that Alora's birthday is on a new year🥹 (In her new design by the way, she's a year younger than Camilo and Mirabel, so Alora is 14. While Rafael is 1 year older (he's 16).

[glitternightingale]

Encanto Big Bang 💖

Here's my submission for the @encantobigbang 2022/23! Yayyy!!

I picked my favorite scene from @starlightomicron's fanfiction:

The Madrigal Triplets have finally found each other again and celebrate their first birthday together after their long separation. What traditions have stayed the same and which ones are just in the making?

And, of course, my crack interpretation of another scene:

[usedtobeguest123]

My grandma passed away this last week. She was the matriarch of my family, raising a brood of boys on her own in a new country, and the life I have now I owe to her dedication and sacrifice. She is part of why the character of Abuela resonates so strongly with me, not because of their similarities in character, but because of how meaningful it was to see a story like hers represented in a beautiful, celebrated way in mainstream media.

I'll miss her dearly.

I was going through my unused writing snippets and I found this old one I had started for Encantober "Grief" and never finished. I polished it up a bit and offer it up now in my Abuela's honor. It's inspired by this Twitter-posted poem that resonated with so many people. While I know that there's so much more to the everlasting life after this one, this poem speaks such beauty and childlike peace into that transition, and I adore it for that.

Also, for some reason, I always thought that when the time came for Abuela to pass on, Camilo in particular would have a hard time letting go. Let it in, let it out, let it rain, let it snow, let it go, and all that. He seemed a fitting recipient for this, and also someone likely to ask an uncomfortable question.

Love you Grandma; God bless you and keep you. I can't wait to see you in again in paradise ❤️

------

It had been happening all. freaking. day.

He’d turn the corner, see a cup or a flower or a damn leaf that somehow reminded him and poof, he’d be someone else. Papi. Dolores. Luisa—a mess of people in quick succession. Thank God he’d managed to keep from changing into her. He didn’t think he could deal with that. Ay, he didn’t think any of them could.

No one blamed him though. When Mirabel witnessed one of his involuntary shifts on his way to the kitchen that morning, she’d just looked at him with that sappy, stupid face she was always making and gave him a hug that maybe did help him feel a little better.

Papi had clapped him hard on the back, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder as he shifted back down into his own skin. He'd nodded solemnly, giving him a gentle, encouraging lift under the chin.

Tía Julieta just gave him an extra helping at lunch, teary-eyed yet smiling warmly as always.

But it still sucked.

Dios why couldn’t he just get a grip? He felt so jumpy. Everything set him off. He snapped at Antonio when one of his coatis left cacas outside his room again. Even as he spoke he’d known his voice was a too harsh for the situation. He snapped Isabela, and for once she didn’t snap back. She just sent a tiny bloom of flowers settling into his shirt pocket, their stems only a little spikey. He even snapped at Casita when they both knew he'd just tripped on his own two feet.

But he made sure he was on his absolute best behavior around Mami. You want to talk about jumpy? He had nothing on her. Poor Ma.

He managed to hold it together through the rosary, and the next day at mass too, by some miracle. The ceremony was harder, but he pulled through. But then came the reception. Everyone was talking to him and hugging him and offering condolences and ay how many times can you say thank you, I know she's at peace with just the right sad smile before the words start to lose all meaning? Thank you thank you thankyouthankyo—

So. Phwooo. Here he was now, sneaking out of the reception to the back porch of Casita when no one was looking, just to try to fill his stale lungs with a little more air.

After he shut the door quietly behind him, giving a small pat to the wall in thanks to his accomplice Casita, he turned and was surprised to find he in fact was not alone. There, on the small step that led out to the back patio, was Tío Bruno, a rat of course sitting on his shoulder. Eck. Camilo felt a little shiver go down his back.

He considered turning around to find his own private place to brood, but something stopped him. After a moment, and a small nudge from the tiles beneath his feet, he quietly approached instead.

“Hey,” he said lamely.

“Oh!” Bruno startled, flailing comically, but recovered quickly. “Oh, h-hey there Milo.”

Guess I'm not the only one who’s jumpy.

“Do you mind if I…?” he gestured at the empty spot on the stairs next to his tío.

Bruno nodded rapidly, flapping at the spot with his hands and scooting over a minute amount that made absolutely no difference in available space. Camilo sat.

For a while, they didn’t say anything. The rat had disappeared from Tío Bruno’s shoulder to God knows where. They watched the leaves sway on the large gnarled tree that stood proudly behind Casita.

Man, how old was that thing? It had been there as long as he could remember. At some point, a planter had been built around it where Isabela grew a perpetual explosion of flowers, and a swing hung from one of its thicker branches, but he'd seen pictures of when the back porch had let out to just a field and a tree. Camilo found himself wondering if that old thing had always been there, or if it had come with their Miracle.

It looked ancient. The trunk was at least as wide as four humans, twisting and turning up toward the sky at a slight angle before giving way to countless branches, those branches breaking off on their own as well in seemingly infinite chaos. The canopy splayed out above the courtyard in a protective, verdant umbrella so lush that even in the rain, the area underneath often stayed dry. Down below, the roots wove in and out of the soil like great serpents surfacing for air, defying the boundaries of the neat planter and forever upending the level neatness of the patio.

Camilo couldn’t imagine it not being there. He just couldn’t imagine a world without its constant, unshakeable presence. Something heavy and gripping suddenly settled into his chest, and he swallowed hard.

After a moment, his traitorous mouth opened without being told to and he whispered out question so quietly he wasn't sure if Bruno would even hear him.

“What do you think it’s like?”

“Huh?”

“...dying.” Camilo swallowed again, but didn’t look at his uncle. “What do you think it’s like.”

“Oh.” Bruno’s voice was soft. To Camilo’s surprise, he didn’t fidget or squirm like usual. Instead, he seemed to sort of wilt. Camilo glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He'd leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He stared up toward the big tree too, but he didn’t seem to be really looking at anything.

It was quiet for so long, that Camilo considered cracking some kind of joke to cover his tracks.

What are you thinking anyway, tonto? he thought. Guy just lost his mom. You gonna drop a rock like that on him? He really did need to get a grip. He needed to break the tension, ease the mood.

“Well, it must not have been that bad if Abuela allowed it to happen,” he joked, his voice light, wry, and guarding. “I think even La Muerte herself would have layed off if Abuela had given her that one stern look she had, ya know?"

Camilo chuckled, but Bruno didn't laugh. He didn't respond at all. He was still looking at the tree with a distant expression. Camilo narrowed his eyes at him—it didn't even seem like he'd heard a thing.

“...Tío?”

At that, Bruno dropped his eyes down to look at his hands, woven together loosely between his bent knees. He tipped his palms up slightly as if he was looking for something there. He took a slow breath, and then he began to speak.

“When I was a kid,” he said, “a-a real little kid, we had this big party at Casita. You know how it goes. House full of people, everything is busy and bright and loud. I don't remember what it was for anymore, b-but the whole time I just was torn between wanting to not miss a minute of it all, but, but, but also trying to be on my best behavior, like I knew Ma would want, a-and also also trying look out for my sisters, who were doing fine by the way, definitely didn't need me looking out for them but—well, anyway.”

Bruno cleared his throat, and Camilo watched him curiously. He nodded for him to continue, and Bruno nodded back.

“A-anyway, I didn't make it through the whole night. I got tired, like kids do, a-and fell asleep in some corner of the courtyard, heh. Passed right out. And Ma—y-your abuela, she found me and picked me up.”

Bruno looked up then, turning to look at Camilo with a sad, crooked smile and an odd brightness in his eyes.

“She carried me upstairs to my room. I could still hear the party—laughter and singing and music and joy—just in the next room over, but in my room with Mamá it was all still and quiet and peaceful. When she tucked me in, she kissed my cheek, and she whispered, ‘You did well, mijo. You did well. I've got you now.’”

Bruno swallowed. “It…it all just felt so…so…safe,” he shrugged. “Like…relief, I guess. Contentment. Idaknow. I think….maybe, um, maybe dying is… something like that.”

The tight feeling was back in Camilo's chest, and he felt a tear streak down his face before he was even aware it was there. He blinked. Bruno looked down at his empty hands again. The air around them had grown cool, the sun now set. The sound of crickets hummed, and the gentle murmurs from the reception wafted out from the warmly lit windows of Casita. Camilo sniffed loudly.

“That doesn't sound so bad,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. Bruno nodded with a broken chuckle, and brought a sleeve up to wipe roughly at his own face.

“Yeah. It doesn't.”

Then, without warning, Camilo’s shoulders quaked, his breath hitching and more tears suddenly appearing as all the pent-up pressure of the day rose to the surface and broke free. He choked out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. Bruno put an arm around him.

The wind blew gently through the branches of the tree, ruffling the leaves in a hushed lullaby. The ropes of the swing creaked sweetly along with it. And there on the porch, settled between the warm murmurs of the reception behind them and the cool peace of the star-filled night, after his breathing had slowed and his tears had been wiped dry, Camilo thought that maybe he could finally feel within him a measure of stillness.