#encantober butterfly

[achitka]

Day Twenty: Vision

Mmmmm again more out of context stuff from me. Anyway I wrote this blurbage and did not end up using it in my main fic. Camilo thinks Casita is trying to quite literally make Mirabel a part of itself... and it weirdly fits the prompt so once again - off we go.

Camilo gets a bad rap for being what he is - a fifteen-year-old boy. Had a few of those in my house.

Day Twenty: Vision

Over the years, Mirabel had already sacrificed so much of herself to be what she thought her family needed her to be. When Camilo went to Mirabel’s room last night and saw her sitting, unmoving, on the sofa, he was not at all pleased. It was a little too much like what had happened before dinner. She’d gone completely still, all because she had thoughts related to the breaking. But it was what happened after that freaked him out.

He’d gone back to his room and sat on his bed and said, “Let her go, Casita.” Several multicolored butterflies flew out from under his bed and flitted above him, and he added, “You can’t keep her... wherever. She’d needed here.”

The butterflies began to increase in number until he was surround on all sides, but the ones directly in front of him started to coalesce and Camilo looked nervously around. Obviously Casita was trying to show him something, so Camilo focused on the picture forming in front of him.

Mirabel looked very confused and asked, “Wait, then that means your mother was Casita? But I thought… and that means…” Mirabel closed her eyes as her hands clenched and she pulled them into her chest. She hunched inward as she whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor-”

“Elegida,” Little Mirabel said, interrupting her.

Mirabel looked up but it didn’t appear she saw or heard the little person in front of her as she said, “I couldn’t save her. I tried so hard, but I couldn't do it. I failed her. I keep thinking maybe there was something I didn’t do. Something I should have said,” Mirabel grabbed little Mirabel’s arms and said, “How are you not mad? Even now, I'm terrified that… I’m going to kill you too if I can’t do-”

“Mirabel,” Little Mirabel said a little louder, interrupting her a second time. Mirabel lowered her hands as the little one gently touched her face. She looked Mirabel in the eyes and said with a small frown, “You believe you are responsible for my mother’s passing, and are carrying a great weight because of it. Do you not feel the shadow it has cast upon your heart?” the Little Mirabel stood and put small hands on Mirabel’s face and said, “You cannot heal if you will not let yourself see that you did not cause the death of my mother. I know that you loved her as well as any human member of our family because I could not be here otherwise. I am my mother's Gift to you, Elegida.”

The butterflies burst apart then, and Camilo stood up and left his room. He wanted to talk to his little brother. Antonio knew Mirabel better than anyone, and he’d been dropping hints lately about what the forest rats were telling him about their prima.

[yellowcry]

Abuela, I can finally see

Alma was used to hide the pain. Ignoring the ache, and never allowing herself to grief. It wasn't just about her. It was about her family, her village

But... Strangely in the darkest moment, she finally felt seen

@encantober-official prompt — healing

Can't believe this is the entirety of Encantober

I managed to do it in time! Kinda proud of myself for this

Alma didn't know what to say. All these years came down to nothing. Crushed into pebble and scattered on the open field. The air was empty, what could she do now? For years, the miracle became her purpose. To serve and protect the people of Encanto. She tried to grasp onto the thin air but it slipped between her fingers, fading away in just seconds. Now it all was broken. Shattered hopes. And there was no going back. She could say anything she wanted, but there was no remedy that could fix her mistakes

She did wrong and it took her an ashamingly long time to realize it.

She didn't want to come to the river. To that place. Even after all these years, it was filled with pain. The taste of blood hung over her, skin itched with memories. Death slammed onto her, cold and murderous. But her legs took here here before she could even realize it. And of course, just by some bitter irony Mirabel was here. A cruel joke of the universe because her granddaughter was crying in the place Alma saw in her nightmares for fifty years. Where the heaviest tears in her life were spilled. But at the same time the place that held the last memories about Pedro. Bitter and unhappy, but so important to see who she became. What was the reason she kept moving. 

Her mind kept flouncing like a butterfly with a broken wing. Desperate to escape. But right now Alma couldn't. She was the reason Mirabel was here. The reason their miracle faded. Leaving them broke. All these years, Alma just wanted to protect them. Make sure it wouldn't happen again. Never repeating the past.

But she hadn't noticed how between years she forgot for whom she did this all.

"I'm sorry..." Mirabel hid her face in her knees, not daring to look up.

Alma's breathing quickened for a brief moment (but after fifty years she had learned to punch the panic back. Hide it under cold and strict gaze.). Mirabel didn't really think she would blame her, right? Or maybe it was expected, Alma had blamed her for anything that was wrong. Sharp and unfeeling, scratching the walls with her nails until they cracked. And when they did break, she had nothing left.

There was no excuse, no reason to explain. Alma wanted to protect her family, to keep them happy and away from danger. But she did it wrong, focused too much on what was lost and not what she still had. She drowned in her guilt and mourning and hadn't done enough to appreciate her children.

Tears welled up in her eyes, her voice drowned by the prattle. So quiet Alma was. Talking about it was painful. Even after all this years, the wound wasn't healing. Alma didn't allow it to heal, straching the crust off every time. But this time she couldn't leave. Thinking about every second they spent together. How their lives were thrown over in just moments. If she looked deep into the water, she could almost see the reflection of the past decades. How Alma, so young and hopeful happened to catch a butterfly with her eyes. And the rest was history.

This place was strange. For years Alma wished to see it, the last moments of her marriage. But she dreaded it. Afraid of facing what happened. What she had lost. The burning horror of being all alone against the dangerous world. So doing all the measurements she was able to do. Afraid to be in pain again. Grasping at whatever she could to hide just how much she suffered. She had to be strong and hold back all the agony she went through. To make sure it never happened again. Closing the walls over herself. Holding everything in her arms. 

She remember when their eyes locked for the first time. A brief second. And Alma, a woman who never believed in first-glance love, was so helplessly addicted. Remembered how they both laughed at the plaza. Adoring and longing to spend time together. When people pointlessly wandered around and nothing in the world mattered more than Pedro. Before the fire was eating the houses behind them, before they had to take whatever they cold grab and run. Falling off their feet but escape. At the very least for the sake of their babies. What are cruel fate had decided to ruin the peace the moment their kids were born?

Mirabel looked at her. Glasses shining in the lights. Stepped back, and at the moment Alma was sure Mirabel had left. She wouldn't be surprised. Everything was broken and it was her fault. Mistakes that couldn't be undone. When Alma cared about anything but what her family wanted. Too lost in her fear to see. Notice what was under her nose and no amount of equipment could fix that. 

Instead, the girl looked at her with a thoughtful expression. Old and mature, Mirabel had always acted over her age. Practically copying her mother. Or maybe genes responsible for look affected her personality. Teenager smiled, warm and tender, helping Alma to rise from the log.

There was no proper way to describe it. Water slipped underneath them. What had washed Pedro's body so many years ago. 

And finally Alma felt seen. Not just as a determined leader that had control of the situation not as Dona Madrigal but as an woman who still was just a young hurting soul. No matter how old she was.. Years of hiding the pain, but now she was here. With Mirabel. 

Butterflies rose around them. Golden always associated with the miracle. And they were here. Non-magical. Simple insects, very common. But golden and so beautiful. Free to go, they grew beyond their delicate cocoons to transform from caterpillars and leave pain of the past behind. 

Tears rose to her eyes, after so many years of holding them back. Maybe Mirabel was right, maybe they all had a chance to fix this. Together. And this time Alma wouldn't be all alone to live this through. Never alone anymore. The pain wasn't hidden anymore. Old scratches were still here. But the cargo wasn't hers anymore. For the first time in forever, Alma knew she wasn't alone. The chains that held her inside the reversed cocoon were broken. Opening them to the outside. Rising into the wind with burning wings and leaving the terror. Ready for a change. 

Finally a time to let go, soar into the serene air. And... Despite the state everything was in, Alma felt calm. Free and happy for the first time since that faithful date. They were together. It wasn't only her burden. Mariposas were bound to stuck together, reborn from ashes and transformed. And this was about time Alma had her chance to be whole. Let go of the pain. Feel the warm of support she had never accepted but always knew she needed. Because asking for help was hard, because Alma didn't want to burden everyone. She was perfect, never collapsing. No matter what happened. Alma had to hold herself together for the sake of everyone else. Afraid of the history repeating itself. No matter how painful it was. Desperately trying to forget what she saw, all alone against the whole world. No shoulder to cry on. When the presented never-stopping pain was going for years.

But this time...

She was here.

She was seen.

[usedtobeguest123]

Encantober Day 1 - Sunset

Bruno stepped his bare feet down onto the wood of his bedroom floor. He stood from his bed and padded to the center of the room. The air was thick with salt and brine, filling his nose with the sharp, wet scent. He could taste the saltiness on his tongue. The tide pushed in across the floorboards, the chilling foam washing over his bare feet, thinning as it went until it was just a film across the wood behind him. As the water pulled back, it carried grains of wood with it like sand, and Bruno's heels sank slowly into the floor, leaving him standing just a little deeper than he'd begun.  He'd never been to the beach. He'd read about it, but being here was different. The saltiness tasted different than salt tossed into the air, than the rush of dry sand. It all felt thicker, heavier. He used to daydream as a child of visiting the beach, and here he was. How funny that all he had to do this whole time was step out of bed.  Ahead of him Mirabel and Antonio splashed and played in the wake, seagulls dipping down to greet them with harsh calls. Deeper in, Luisa and Camilo swam amidst the waves. Antonio was almost as tall as Mirabel. When had he gotten so tall? ... It was a sunset. Or was it a sunrise? Wait--hadn't it just been night, hadn't he just been in bed? As the last of the orange sun slipped below the line of water, a flash of green raced out like a gunshot, pulsing toward him faster than the tide. WOOSH. He squeezed his eyes shut as it pushed past. Everything tasted green, salt and brine.

For @encantober-official Day 1, I took inspiration from a vision-dream that Bruno has in chapter 13 of my fic La Traes. His reimagined bedroom is from my other fic Bruno from Before; you can find its description below the cut!

There were no more treacherous stairs to trek up, nor ghastly images of a haunted prophet to pass to get to Tío Bruno's cave. Now it was just the ornate round door settled deep into the back wall of his room, shadowed slightly by an hourglass shaped entryway that no longer poured out sand. His main room was cozy and warm now, despite the impossibly high ceiling of the tower that rose above it. Natural light filtered in from the round window at the top of the tower like a cathedral, illuminating minute particles of dust and sand that floated lazily through the air. The left side of his room held a small bed tucked against the wall, a desk littered with papers and pencils, and a dresser situated next to the main door. The entire right side of the room was a sitting area, red and green cushioned chairs angled at each other just enough to encourage conversation but not enough to force it, a low table sitting between them. The backs of the chairs were to the center of the room, the chairs positioned to face a wall of bookshelves loaded with not only books but also doo-dads and collected odds and ends that Tío treasured for some reason or another. Two or three of the plants gifted by Isabela climbed precariously from their potted places on the shelves. One entire shelf seemed to be some sort of rat maze. Framed pictures of each and every Madrigal, some current and some yellowed with age, spread across all the walls like butterflies drifting in clustered groupings.  And there, straight across from the main doorway, stood the hourglass cutout and the large round door through that, looking for all the world like nothing more than a particularly interesting closet and not a room where the future sifted into the present. 

--Bruno from Before

[foreveranevilregal]

Encantober Day 24: Memory

Alma sat at a table, watching serenely as the party unfolded. It was a balmy June night, and everyone was celebrating. A young couple had gotten engaged, and naturally the town took that as a reason to throw a party. After how unfortunately the town was founded, they came to an unspoken agreement to celebrate everything they could, because life was fleeting and needed to be appreciated.

Lively music filled the air, the musicians really showing off their skills now with a series of fast riffs and trills. People danced, mostly in groups, but the married couples would also dance alone. All around Alma, there was a flurry of activity, of flouncing skirts and handkerchiefs being waved about. Children ran in between the crowds of dancing people, weaving through the ever-shifting landscape of the dancefloor, and laughing gleefully.

Alma herself had danced for a while earlier in the evening but had decided to take a break and get some food. As always, the food was delicious. She hummed contentedly as she took another bite and watched the dancers.

Suddenly, the music shifted. The musicians had wrapped up the piece they were playing and began playing another song, one she hadn’t heard in ages. It was the same song that had been playing when…

She had first met him at the festival, on Día de las Velitas. Candles lined the streets, forming a flickering pathway of warmth in the December night. She had always loved how beautifully the bright flames shone in the night. Wanting to see more, she had climbed up on a pole to see the celebration better. To her surprise, she wasn’t the only one with this idea. Across the way, a young man had done the same, clinging to his own pole. Their eyes met and he smiled at her, his warm brown eyes reflecting the golden candlelight.

Alma felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Immediately, she had abandoned her post to go find this young man. She could sense there was something special about him. He seemed so full of life. She had to meet him.

So she tracked him down and they sat together. And they talked. She had been right. There was a spark in him that was so unlike the other young men in town. It was refreshing to see someone unafraid to be so open and honest with others, not as overly concerned with being prim and proper. Alma had laughed until she cried. When his fingers reached out instinctively to catch her tears, she knew she was done for.

They snuck around after that, seeing each other whenever they could chance it. Neither of them had risked telling their parents yet, wanting to enjoy the newness of it alone. A few months later, that all changed.

There had been another celebration. Alma honestly couldn’t remember what at this point, it had been so long ago. Maybe a birthday, maybe a wedding. Either way, as most celebrations turned out, it was an excuse for good food and lots of dancing. Musicians played tirelessly to whip the crowd into a frenzy, dancing and spinning and shouting and singing and-

Alma peeled away from the crowd to catch her breath. She had been dancing for hours now, grateful that she had worn comfortable shoes for the occasion. Though she considered herself a good dancer, she had gotten a bit winded and needed a small break. She figured she could sit one song out. She didn’t really care for this one anyway.

Then suddenly, the musicians stopped playing, cutting off abruptly in the middle of a verse. They switched to a faster piece; a song Alma hadn’t heard before. It must have been new.

The effect was immediate. All the young people congregated in the middle of the dancefloor, beginning an elaborate group dance. Everyone had rotated throughout at first, yet after a verse or two they settled in with their preferred dance partners.

She didn’t even realize she had stood until she found herself at the edge of the crowd. With a whoop, she was pulled into the group, spinning and stepping and waving her handkerchief around joyfully. Just as she was about to switch partners again, a hand reached out to her and she took it, feeling its familiar roughness against her palm.

“Would you care to dance?” Pedro had shouted over the din, twirling her around.

Alma grinned. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but she had a pretty good idea. She stepped towards him, performing an intricate bit of footwork, and held onto his hand tightly as they danced.

Oh, it was exhilarating! The song flew by in a blur of spins and twirls and sidesteps as they danced their hearts out. She was glad people had given up on switching partners. There was no way she wanted to dance with anyone but him. It was a good thing he seemed to love dancing as much as she did.

Finally the song ended. She felt his strong arm around her back, bracing her as he leaned her in for a dip and brought her up just as fast. Surely that was the reason she was feeling so lightheaded. She had erupted into a fit of giggles, trying to calm herself as he kissed the back of her hand and thanked her for a lovely dance. She assured him the pleasure had been all hers. In her heart, she knew it would be the first of many dances shared together.

A hand materialized in front of her as she heard those fateful words again: “Would you care to dance?” But something was off. The hand, the voice…they were different. It wasn’t what she was expecting. Looking up, she realized it was Félix asking her to join in. The whole family was on the dancefloor and she was the only one sitting. She figured he wanted her to be included.

She let herself linger in the memory for another minute, remembering the way it had felt to dance with her husband for the first time, then took Félix’s hand and joined the rest of the family.

[oncexinxmyxdreams]

Encantober: Sign 🪧

@encantober-official

From my unfinished fic au, Miracles Come in Pairs/Efecto Butterfly. Bruno's twin daughters Francisca and Alejandra recieve their gifts. Bruno blames himself for not seeing any signs.

Bruno should've seen it coming. Having two daughters included many things he could see coming along. Days where they'd argue, ignore, cry and laugh. That didn't take him aback. Having two daughters with gifts that were...special was another matter. Not a good special either like everyone anticipated. More like walking on glass, holding breath and bracing yourself for the worst kind of special.  

Months before Francisca and Alejandra's fifth birthday, he wondered if he should check. Look into their futures just to be sure. Any signs he should know. Maybe he could help ahead of time. Everyone reassured him nothing would go wrong. Mercedes, his dear wife, promising their children wouldn't have it like him. He was swayed to not worry. Still, he threw salt over his shoulder and knocked on wood to be safe.

It didn't help.

It wasn't a door ceremony of joy or wonder. It was of shock and fear to everyone. The village hurrying to leave as if some savage beast had woken from its sleep. Alma stunned and holding the candle as if her only reassurance. Pepa trying to calm herself, but dark clouds thundered. Julieta, looking so unsure and worried. Mercedes holding their children to comfort. At least she tried to hold both of them. One refused.

The gifts? Hindsight and Fire.  

Francisca unable to move, but heavily breathing. Her eyes of jungle green and earthy brown, shifted into the darkest green with a glint of shine. She didn't speak, yell or weep. She seemed stone cold evdn in her mama's arms. When she could talk, she explained she saw something from long ago. Something terrible that happened to the Madrigals twenty five years ago.

Alejandra's hand formed a jet of flame. It singed her birthday banner and burnt the flowers. She instantly cried, but the flames seemed to stick along her hands. She never looked so scared. She kept backing away not wanting to be touched.  

Right there Bruno could tell it was a sign of what was to happen for their lives. 

It'd been three days since Francisca and Alejandra turned five. The Madrigals are at a loss. Francisca doesn't want anyone to see her. She keeps snapping she wants to be alone in her mama's art studio. She threw a tantrum when Casita tried nudging her outside. Alejandra hiding in the nursery and when found hugging herself. She even screamed for nobody to touch her because she could hurt them. 

Bruno blamed himself for not looking ahead. He could've prepared them. He would've sought everything to help his twins. He didn't. It's his fault he didn't look for any sign of doom.

Now he would give anything to let his daughters have a sign of hope. 

[teawizard]

Thank you so much @foggyfanfic for tagging me!

The writing part

I have some scenes of the fic I want to write, but they are all in separate files named after a letter in cyrillic alphabet (which now that I think about it, can become an interesting idea for the titles). Ultimately decided to just leave the titles, without the descriptions, so that it's more fun ;)

Btw they're all for the bruno x OC fic, so if you're interested about general wips, scroll down to the sketches section ':D

"а"

"я"

"ъ"

"ь"

"ю"

"э"

"ы"

I also have a note with one scene written with "?" as a title

They're all kind of not canon compliant, I'll have to rewrite most of them, but I still wanted to share them :)

The sketches

Unfortunately, I have toooooo many standalone sketches in my sketchbooks both in digital and traditional. I really want to show them all but I need to first figure out a way to group them, so that they are more fun to look at. So here I'll only list the comics and adjacent projects I have already started and really want to flesh out or share here

General section

Animal Crossing x Encanto AU - just character line up

"A platypus? Perry the Platypus?" - a really small comic

Bruno and Isabela talk before the play (late Encantober entry) - comic

Agustin sneezes (late Encantober entry) - comic

Bruno x OC section

A very rough outline for the Love Me More animatic

A very rough animatic where Daniela just laughs at a joke Bruno tells her

A guy proposes to Dioselina - comic

Daniela and Dioselina play pretend - comic

Bisexual panic - comic

Bruno and Luis - comic

Bruno has a specific type - comic

Daniela thinks Carmen's on a date with a pretty flower lady (they are, Carmen just can't commit to the bit) - comic

"Different hairstyles" meme with Daniela and Bruno

A start of friendship - comic

Does Bruno know she likes him? - comic

Bruno, Daniela and Dioselina Modern Band AU

Daniela's book-cover-styled-illustration? (one of few arts I have colored)

Daniela remembers her childhood - comic

Tagging @miracles-and-butterflies, @thecrazyashley-blog, @aeshnalacrymosa, @fictodreamer, @usedtobeguest123 (rules? what rules?)

I don't know if you've been tagged before, so sorry in advance if you were ':D

Feel free to ask questions about anything you see here!

[female-hercules]

I posted 42 times in 2022

That's 42 more posts than 2021!

27 posts created (64%)

15 posts reblogged (36%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@justanisabelakinnie

@dolores-and-luisa-stan

@miracles-and-butterflies

@forevertheanimekid

@dragoneyes618

I tagged 35 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#encanto - 33 posts

#isabela madrigal - 15 posts

#luisa madrigal - 14 posts

#encantober - 14 posts

#mirabel madrigal - 13 posts

#dolores madrigal - 12 posts

#mariano guzman - 7 posts

#dolores x mariano - 7 posts

#dolores and mariano - 6 posts

#encanto fanfic requests - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 46 characters

#and kinda want to write some doloriano content

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Listening to Surface Pressure on repeat is fun!

That’s it! That’s the post!

11 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

#4

I’m writing a new Doloriano fanfic called, “My Heartbeat, Your Heartbeat and a New Heartbeat”, which focuses on Dolores’s first pregnancy but I can’t think of a way to open it. Any help would be appreciated ☺️

13 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

#3

A brief silence made itself apparent before the eldest again spoke up quietly. "Ahora!"

Mirabel nodded firmly. The both of them turned their attention back to Luisa, who still had her back to them.

"BEAR HUG!" they shouted at the same time, launching themselves at Luisa.

Day six: Hugs

"Hey Mira!" Isabela hissed. Mirabel turned to find her oldest sister covered head to toe in leaves and camouflaged well against one of the walls of Casita that was covered in its entirety thick moss. Without hesitation, Isabela latched onto Mirabel dragging her into her hiding spot.

"Isa, what the heck," Mirabel said, turning her head to look at her oldest sister but she was cut off before as Isabela turned her head and forced her to look in the direction of which she was discreetly pointing. At Luisa.

"Operation: attack," was all Isabela stated, definitively.

"Qué?" Mirabel spouted in confusion. She turned her head to look at Isabela again.

"Tackle Luisa into a hug, tonta!" Isabela erupted into a fit of giggles. "Come on, are you a chicken? It's now or never. It's just a little surprise. She's gonna love it!"

Mirabel opened her mouth to respond, but, before she could say anything, Isabela grabbed a tight hold of her hand and pulled both herself and Mirabel out of their moss and leaf covered hiding place. Isabela focused her attention on Luisa, watching her younger sister, waiting for the right moment for herself and Mirabel to sneak up on their sister. And that moment came in a matter of seconds.

"Okay, now," Isabela said, quietly, looking down at her youngest sister.

For a moment, Mirabel didn't seem to say much of anything. She just nodded in response and followed behind Isabela as they began to sneak up behind Luisa. Their sister currently had her back turned to them. A perfect opportunity.

Just a few feet away from Luisa, Isabela stopped Mirabel and glanced down at her again.

A brief silence made itself apparent before the eldest again spoke up quietly. "Ahora!"

Mirabel nodded firmly. The both of them turned their attention back to Luisa, who still had her back to them.

"BEAR HUG!" they shouted at the same time, launching themselves at Luisa.

Luisa whipped around to face her sisters in a split second, a laugh escaping her throat as she was tackled to the ground by Isabela and Mirabel. Her older sister and younger sister had ended up on top of Luisa, both sporting matching amused grins on their faces as they looked down at her.

See the full post

16 notes - Posted October 6, 2022

#2

Mirabel raised an eyebrow. "And you don't want to get out of bed because—"

"Dunno. I'm just tired, I guess." Luisa yawned and turned on her side. Her older sister and younger sister glanced worriedly at one another for a moment then refocused their attention on Luisa.

"You have an off day," Mirabel said, tone confused.

"Yeah, and I want to spend it in bed."

Or: a tired Luisa doesn’t want to get out of bed. Her sisters are both curious and worried as to why.

Encantober day eighteen: Tired

17 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Doloriano fic Masterlist!

Three Heartbeats

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37709587/chapters/94142773

Mariano’s Foolproof Plan For Getting His Future-Brothers-in-Law to Like Him

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36708553/chapters/91571200

I’m Your Girlfriend, Mariano!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38532070

And Then There Were Five Kids

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38590833/chapters/96467538

Año-tras-Año (Year-by-Year)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39015816/chapters/97593333

Earmuffs

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39226008

Isabela and Mirabel’s Over-the-Top Attempt at Making Dolores and Mariano’s First Date Really Romantic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39279516/chapters/98290710

Quiet as a Mouse

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39625011/chapters/99194160

Dolores is Pregnant With Quintuplets?!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41083992/chapters/102975588

Gifts of Love and Family

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41397114/chapters/103811460

If you would like me to write you a Doloriano one shot, feel free to request one.

21 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[encantowishes]

Encantober Day 31: Butterfly

This one is a followup to "We'll Emerge When We're Ready," which can be found along with all my other Encantober entries here.

Ready Or Not

“You know a caterpillar grows up to be a butterfly, right? This is how it is done. The caterpillar makes herself a chrysalis, a snug little place where she is protected from the world while she changes. When she’s ready, the chrysalis will break open, and she’ll emerge, a beautiful butterfly.”

“Protected from the world. Like the Encanto.”

“I … suppose you could look at it that way.”

“Someday it’ll break open, and we’ll emerge? When we’re ready?”

Bruno wondered if his mother remembered that moment, there by the marmalade bush when he was small. When he’d screamed for her because he saw a caterpillar swelling and shuddering, and it frightened him because he didn’t understand what was happening to it. Maybe she didn’t remember. She never spoke of him anymore. Probably she did her best to forget him, her disappointing son. But he thought of her.

He could see his mother now, or the back of her head at least, as she sat at the dining table. And around her, were his sisters and their husbands and all the children. 

Only one pair of eyes ever slid toward the crack in the family tree painting, meeting his for an instant. Dolores alone knew Bruno was there, and she’d never tell. She’d promised. It was another reason for Bruno to hate himself, asking for that promise. It was too much to expect of a kid. She’d had to watch her mother storm with worry, with grief, and been unable to say anything.

But what he feared would have awaited Mirabel had his vision been revealed … he’d had to make a decision, and there had been no good choices. It was bad enough, the way his mother overlooked the girl, and others seemed to pity her, all due to her lack of a Gift. How much worse would it be, if everyone thought she was destined to destroy the magic? Destroy the safety of the chrysalis that was the Encanto?

“Someday it’ll break open, and we’ll emerge? When we’re ready?”

In the moment, he hadn’t understood the look his mother gave him when he said that. Looking back, it was clear his question had frightened her.

At the moment, Mirabel was smiling at Antonio, asking him if he was excited about his upcoming Gift ceremony. It had to hurt, though, the prospect of watching someone you love receive what you could never have.

Crick.

Camilo made some teasing joke about Mariano Guzmán. Both Isabela and Dolores stiffened.

Crick.

Bruno’s mother told Luisa about a request someone had made for her help building a stone fence. Luisa’s smile faltered just a little as she pondered how to fit it into her schedule.

Crack.

Bruno and Dolores met eyes again. When Bruno entered the walls, he’d discovered some cracks already there. Dolores couldn’t say for sure when they had begun. So far, they’d remained inside that secret space. But they’d grown more frequent lately, fractures caused by the increasing stress in the family. Bruno did his best to patch them, desperately trying to keep intact the snug little place from which he watched everyone else change, while all he did was grow older. But he feared it was only a matter of time before they showed up on the outside.

And they did, of course. Mirabel saw them, and tried to warn everyone, but she didn’t really know what it was she was warning them about. Not until she’d found him, her weird tío she didn’t remember. It hurt. All this time, he’d told himself it was better if she forgot him, if they all forgot him. And of course, it wasn’t her fault. But it hurt when she didn’t even recognize the characters he used to put on all the time to make her laugh.

And even after all this time, with Mirabel pleading with him to give her some guidance, he still didn’t know what to tell her. He’d stuck himself in his very own chrysalis for a decade and just waited. Maybe she was destined to destroy the magic. Maybe she was destined to save it. In the end, all he’d been able to tell her was to go hug her sister.

He sent Mirabel on her way and went back to his little room. Sat down in his threadbare chair and tried to remember how it had felt, that day by the marmalade bush, when his mother had knelt down and hugged him. She had never been a large woman, but he had been very small then, and easy to wrap up in those arms. He’d felt so safe then, so protected. Why would it be scary if the Encanto broke open someday? His mamá was there.

But now even the world outside this single secret room seemed scary, and one of the reasons why was that his mamá was there.

Something big was going to happen very soon. He hadn’t been able to foresee what that might be, but he feared he was going to be forced to emerge. He huddled among his rats, bracing himself.

The world he’d left outside was filled with misunderstandings and regrets. How could he ever be ready?

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

They clicked together so perfectly and Alma couldn’t remember ever being so happy before. She would have been content to simply sit and listen to Pedro talk about his poems and short-stories forever.

Pedro’s explanation of his writing cut short with a quiet, startled huff of laughter.

A butterfly had landed on his nose. It was a yellow butterfly and Alma swore she could see a tinge of gold to its wings. It gently flapped its wings and didn’t seem in any hurry to leave Pedro’s nose.

Alma giggled and wished for a camera.

“I think she likes you,” she said.

“Well,” Pedro said, smiling at her. “I like her too.”

🦋

Butterflies have always followed Alma throughout her life, through the big moments and the small ones. They were always there, guiding her way, whether she realised it or not.

[aeshnalacrymosa]

Dos Mariposas

Colorized version of this post, inspired from "Mariposa" by Casejy on YouTube:

The butterfly that I chose to represent Camilo is the Apatura ilia, which changes color as it flaps its wings:

And for Mirabel, its this beautiful black butterfly photographed in Colombia:

[breannasfluff]

Butterfly: Encantober 31

Death's-head hawkmoth by me.

Deep in the walls, a caterpillar spins a cocoon and waits. The magic dies around it, running out of payment given by the father. For the blessings to continue, another has to die. Magic comes at a cost—the cost of a life.

A caterpillar prepares to spread its wings.

The final chapter is HERE

[yellowcry]

Know all about the glories and the disgraces

Mirabel wanted to be something. Anything. Shine like they do. She... she deserves a miracle, right?

@encantober-official prompt - Sign

Mirabel wasn't special. She grew to know it years ago. Back when she was a little girl, dreaming to be just like her family. Unique and magical. A foolish child who thought she worth something. Just for everything to collapse in just one second. Now leaving her all alone. Without a place, without her own space. She wasn't like her shining family. Forever alone, left in the shadow. Waiting for when she universe will give her a sign, when Mirabel will finally get her chance.

Just a single one. One chance to do something. To be something. She was desperate to find a way. But everything was pitch black. No light to guide her throught. Just enternal loneliness, where Mirabel couldn't tell who she is or what she's supposed to be. She wasn't good. She wasn't anything. Just a little girl with no gift. Nobody would notice if she wasn't here at all. She wasn't sure when it started. But day after day, Mirabel grew self-conclusious. Because what was she meant to do? The glowing door, the magical blessing was supposed to be her fate. But now there was nothing here. Even back when she was five-years old it left a huge question. The gist ceremony was the day when a madrigal became Madrigal. And it failed. Could she even call herself a part of her family?

No matter how many times she prayed in that chair, begging Lord for forgiveness. The bell rang the same melody. Quiet, steady as the course of river. The fact that she lacked something so vital to be a Madrigal was here. A painful, stinging reminder. Not the deathly, crashing pain, but an old going dripping agony that was always here. Almost possible to ignore if Mirabel didn't pay attention. But never stopping, regardless of what she did.

Each day, Mirabel, waited, begged the universe. To give her just one more chance. She wanted to be anything. Perfect like Isabela, Strong protector like Luisa. But she wasn't. And every day, the candle kept ominously glowing up in the window. Taking Mirabel's gaze, like a butterfly attached to the magical light. Waving in wings, burning between the ancient hammers of flame. Trying to get it. Catch the moment and rise with the ashes, flowing far, far away. A leaf that lied on the soft bare cushion, waiting for the wind to rise it into the air. Show where it should go. Where was the right direction for Mirabel to go? 

She was searching, looking for the answers in the shining starts at night when anxiety kept her awake. Fear of always being inferior. Or just nobody at all. A girl without a name. A girl without a story. Just a giftless child wandering around all alone, forgotten in the looming shadows.

Night after night, she was staring into the sky, asking, begging for a reply. What was she supposed to do. She had failed once. But some naive, perhaps even childish part of her didn't want this one day to cross out Mirabel's entire existence. She wanted the sky to give her a chance. But no matter what Mirabel did, her prayers had never got an answer. The candle never looked at her. Like Mirabel was unimportant (of course she was.) Somebody to be forgotten. She wanted to be perfect and loved like Isabela. Helpful like Luisa. Stop feeling so lonely withing her own family every single day. But instead Mirabel was left with nothing. Grasping onto the thin air, walking blind. 

And this was painful. The feeling that no matter what Mirabel did, she could never crawl over the gloomy shadow that hung over her. That not once in her life she would see the tiniest bits of light. Every day she kept waiting for her chance, praying to get a miracle for herself. But there was nothing. She was trying to be good and patient. Steady and ready for anything. But it wasn't enough. Her efforts were never anything that mattered. The sleepless nights were pacing by. When she stared at the candle, so close but so far away. Asking it what had she done wrong. Doesn't she deserve a miracle?

She assumes she really didn't. Why else would it so blatantly destroy hers when she was just a child? Turning all her hopes, what she awaited, into ash. Breaking any sense of normality not only for her, but dragging her family down as well. But Mirabel doesn't stop trying. There has to be something. Something she can do. Something that would make her useful. Maybe it would cross out the biggest failure in her life? Then people would see her as something more than a 'giftless Madrigal'. She wanted to line up with her family and hold to their standards. There was nothing Mira wouldn't give just to get a chance to be seen. She only wanted someone to come to her and say "Hey, you're doing a great job." But she was met with a loud silence that left disgusting marks on her skin. Not enough. Never enough.

But the only thing Mirabel could do was staying patient. Just... waiting for when it would be her time to step out of the shadows and shine like they do.

(Or maybe she wouldn't. Maybe Mirabel came too late for a miracle)

[usedtobeguest123]

Hello :)

I'm usedtobeguest123 (...because I ghosted around as guest123 on A03 before creating an account for myself 😁). You can call me Tooby.

I love writing and am dabbling with art (newbie). Feel free to shoot me Encanto writing or art prompts--family fluff is my jam. I have tiny little humans I care for and sometimes go on long hiatuses, but I'm still around. Sometimes I also post for Malevolent.

A probably maybe [not] updated masterlist of my stuff below the cut. My tag system is chaotic and unorganized, but you can try searching #my art and #my writing too.

Writing

Current fic: La Traes - This is the sequel to my first fic, Bruno from Before, but you could probably read it on its own. La Traes is the spanish name for the childhood game of tag, but it literally means "You carry it." This fic follows the (fluffy) relationship between Bruno, Mirabel, and Antonio, and is an experiment where I work through how trauma can rob us of childhood, and how we might possibly heal and get a little bit of it back.

Bruno from Before - My first fic! It takes place about 7 months after the movie. An exploration of Mirabel and Bruno's relationship post movie. Mirabel begins to learn more about Bruno from before the walls and is determined to help him find his way back.

Alma, After - I love Alma's character. This is a little dabble I wrote about her grief, and it ended up being a bit of a epilogue to Bruno from Before. Chronologically, it hits somewhere in the middle of La Traes.

Quiet - A collection of Encanto one-shots. They started out having the theme of "quiet," but it's really just a place for me to put my little snippets of writing :)

A Little Wasted Time - A one-shot where Mirabel and Camilo talk it out. It's a bit of a deleted scene from Bruno from Before.

How Are You Feeling, Hermano? - A one-shot I wrote after seeing this AMAZING art by @junosaccount. Bruno is sick and Julieta is there to do what she does best.

The Time You Give Me - Bruno - A super fun collab I did with the lovely @breannasfluff 💚 The pairing is a fun look into the mind of an introvert (Bruno) and an extrovert (Mirabel) who care about each other. This is the introvert side. Make sure to read Breanna's, too!

El Milagro de la Bebé - My fic for the @encantobigbang! Dolores is worried about her Mamá, and to help her she seeks out the most okayest man for the job - Tío Bruno. Pranks and family fluff ensue. Check out @lunaencantada's AMAZING art that goes with it!

You can find more of my little tumblr only one-shots under Encantober below.

Art

Current Project: A Bruno-centric animatic that I started for @wdtajn. I swear I will finish it eventually! You can see my progress here, and here, and here, and here, too. EDIT: It's done!

Julieta, Bruno, and Pepa as kids having a slumber party

My first Encanto fanart ever, a DTIYS from @glitternightingale

You can find more of my artsy things under Encantober below.

💚💚Fanart by Others💚💚 - These have my WHOLE heart, for reals.

Bruno and young Mirabel from Chapter 4 of Quiet by @junosaccount

The trio at a picnic from Chapter 1 of La Traes by @junosaccount (and the lineart version, which shows the amazing detail on Bruno's ruana from Bruno from Before 😍)

The trio in a tree from Chapter 2 of La Traes by @junosaccount

Mirabel and Abuela from Chapter 6 of La Traes by @junosaccount

Encantober 2022 - @encantober-official

Writing:

Transformation (An Encanto Music Analysis)

Healing

Butterfly

Change

Milk

Strength

Cacti

Head Pats

Animals

Caterpillar

Tragedy

Gift

Pranks

Generational Trauma

Otter

Art:

Rats

Love (Peanuts Style)

Parents

Hugs

Casita

Bees

Tired

Prophecy

Present

Kiss

Book

Thanks for visiting :)

[naoko-world]

And for that last day of the Encantober, here is the sequel of Caterpillar! Because I had to make both of these prompts follow each other!

@encantober-official

Day 31: Butterfly

Mirabel was the happiest! The events of when they lost their miracle made her suddenly morph into a cocoon. When she got out of it, she was transformed into a gorgeous butterfly, making her able to fly with the rest of her family! Not that she had a gift as well, she didn't need one, but she was now in the light with them, shining as bright as them. 

Changes were happening too. Now that they got their miracle back, they decided to avoid any mistakes from the past by taking it easy. No more pressure! The Madrigals will work only when they want to and are asked to take some breaks on flowers, bathing in the sun or spending time with other members of the family. If anyone wanted to bother their break to ask for service, they’d now have to learn to count without them.

After some weeks, Mirabel joined Antonio on a jacaranda, who was nostalgically watching the sky, a smile on his lips. “Hola Antonio!”

“Oh! Hola Mirabel!”

She asked while sitting near him “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah”, he laughed nervously, suddenly a bit shy. “It’s been a long time I didn’t spend time with you, I miss you a lot.” 

Gasping with fondness, Mirabel took her cousin in her arms to hug him, showing him all the love she had for him in front of so much cuteness. Then, she reassured him “ You can always come to me to spend time with me, Toñito! After all, you’re my favorite cousin! I’ll always be there for you!”

“You promise?” 

“Yes, I promise! Because I love you!”

They smiled as they were hugging, enjoying the moment a bit before starting to spend their break together, playing as they were used to as caterpillars.

[cloudy-encanto]

Day 31 of Encantober 🥳🌈 and that’s the end of the fic!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this fic! And thankyou for having me and for organising everything @encantober-official

🦋✨

Final prompt: Butterfly

Excerpt:

"Give me a reason." Alma whispered, closing her eyes. She went to take a step forward, but then stopped as something touched her nose. It was light, and tickly.

Alma opened her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing.

It was the golden butterfly. Alma hadn't seen it since the river. She stayed very still, watching it.

"I missed you." Alma whispered. "I missed you so much."

The butterfly flitted from Alma's nose to her forehead, tickly legs walking up onto her head, then it flew behind her. Alma turned, determined not to lose it again.

"Wait." Alma called, doing her best to follow.

The butterfly led Alma to the forest, stopping on a branch at the treeline. Alma swallowed, eyes searching the trees ahead. She was still terrified, but this time she felt hardened by thee knowledge that she had nothing left to lose.

The butterfly flapped it's wings, not leaving the branch. Alma turned to notice it was standing over a piece of embroidery string that had caught on the branch.

Alma plucked it up, observing carefully. "Mirabel,"

The butterfly glowed, then flew ahead, disappearing into the trees. Alma took a deep breath, remembering how she'd been too afraid to go into the forest to save her son. She wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42056430/chapters/107409666

[achitka]

Butterflies

Chapter 31: Butterflies

So it's day 31...Can't believe I managed to write something every day...was a good challenge. Gonna miss that. Also my thanks to everyone that participated. I've enjoyed writing, reading and looking at so many wonderful works of art here on tumblr. Extra, extra thanks for the crew running the event. @encantober-official I've had a blast writing all month. I feel a lotta bit of inspiration to work on my other fic. . That said off we go...day 31 Is Camilo that much of a jerk...

Mirabel and Camilo were together in Camilo’s room learning to make small boats out of paper. The book they were using was very beat up. It had survived two house fires and many a re-read. Camilo flipped through the pages, fascinated by the pictures of people inside. The came from a faraway place called ‘The Orient’ and their face shapes were new to him.

“Hey,” Mirabel said, “Go back to the directions for a sec, I think I missed a step.”

Camilo set the book on the floor and turned back to the page. Mirabel scanned the page and half way down she frowned, “Yep…” she sighed and tossed the incomplete boat behind her and got another piece of paper. Camilo flipped toward the end of the book and nudged his prima. Mirabel looked at it and smiled.

“You think we can make it? I mean we’re struggling to make a boat.”

“You’re struggling to make a boat,” Camilo said, “I am not being helpful, sans no struggling…see how this works out for me?”

“Whatever,” Mirabel said, “Let me read this.”

Camilo leaned back against his bed and thought about the drawing of the people in the books. He felt his face shift but didn’t get up to look at it. He was pretty sure it matched the face on page 93.

“What are you doing?” Mirabel asked. She was holding a razor blade and Camilo shifted back to himself.

“What are you doing?” Camilo asked back.

“Wow, short attention span much? I need you to hold the paper while I cut out the shapes,” she said and pushed the paper over to him. There were three different colors, purple, blue and yellow. “I’m going to try and cut them all at the same time.”

“How long is that going to take?”

“I don’t know, it’s pretty intricate.”

“Longer than five minutes?

“Why did you agree to help if you’re not going to help?”

“Fair point, but how long?”

“You know what, never mind. I’ll finish it myself,” Mirabel said as she gathered up the paper, string and glue. Camilo went to reach for the book and Mirabel snapped it shut and picked that up as well. “I need this,” she said and was up and out the door.

Camilo looked at the door for a while trying to decide if he should go after her. Truth was, he didn’t want to help make any gifts for Abuela and he couldn’t understand why Mirabel would want to. They way she talked to her, the just mean things she would say…as far as he was concerned, she didn’t deserve them. Antonio’s fifth birthday was less than six months away and his parents and little brother were already stressing out about it. While he wanted Antonio to get a Gift, he also did not.

Camilo got up and pulled on his ruana and shoes. He walked outside and around the house to the back garden. Mira was right where he knew she would be. She always came here when she was mad at him. He heard her let out a curse as the page she was working on ripped.

“Need some help?” he asked. Mirabel looked up from what she was doing and shook her head as she pulled out another piece of paper. Camilo glanced at the pages that had already been discarded and smiled. Only one was ripped, the rest looked fine…but not perfect and Mira needed them to be.

“Mind if I help, anyway?” he asked as he sat down next to her and put his hands on the edges. He wasn’t going to try and talk sense into her. She wouldn’t listen anyway.  She’d keep chasing the light of that candle ‘til it killed her. Waiting for a miracle that was too late in coming.

Mirabel was humming now, a clear sign she was completely focused on what she was doing and would finish this up pretty quickly. After a few minutes, she made the last cut and removed the pieces of cut paper. She tapped his hand and he lifted the page up. He noticed the butterfly she’d cut out was shining on the table where the sun shone through and was hitting the table.

“Pretty nice, Mira,” he said lifting the others.

“Thanks, and thanks for helping…it was not going well by myself.”

“Mind if I keep the scraps,” he asked indicating her abandon attempts.

“Sure, can’t use them for this anyway.”

“Great, I’ll see ya later,” he said and gathered up the papers, “Gotta go into town and be useful for a few hours.”

“Okay, thanks again, I’ll save you seconds.”

“Gonna need ‘em,” he said and went back to his room. He reached under his bed and pulled out a box. He took off the lid. Inside was a jumble of half-finished projects that Mira had decided were not perfect enough. He put the butterfly cut outs in it and reached around and picked up the incomplete boat placing it in there as well. Lately there had been a lot of them. If she kept it up, he was going to need a bigger box. Maybe he’d show it to her one day…he wondered if he would have to wait for Abuela to die before he did.

--------------------

Notes: