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blackypanther9 · 1 year

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Dia De Los Muertos – Bruno x Reader

Pick your Gender.

Dia De Los Muertos was coming. The Madrigal Family needed at least a few hours for preparing it and Bruno’s Lover joined in.

“Come on, Y/n ! We need to prepare everything !”, Bruno said happily.

“What do we need to prepare for ? A Birthday ?”, you asked confused.

“No ! It is soon Dia De Los Muertos !”

You looked at Bruno with an expressionless face.

“The what now ?”, you asked.

“Oh right ! In English it means the Day of the Dead ! We celebrate it.”

“Oh… Why tho ? What’s so special about it ?”

“Well, we have a legend of the afterlife, of some sorts at least. When you die, you will be in the Land of the dead. There is one special day though, where you can come and visit your Family. If the picture of a dead person is on the Veranda then the said dead person can cross over a bridge that is made out of Marigolds. We also spread these on the streets into our home, because we will help them find back that way. We celebrate and they celebrate with us. We put a lot of food on their graves and Verandas so they can take it home with themselves. We share stories about our passed away Family, to keep their memory alive and by that we keep them alive. If we forget about one of them or no one lives anymore that knew them or their stories…they disappear from there and move to somewhere else. If the picture of a dead person is not on the Veranda, they can’t cross and come over.”

You listened intently and were now just as eager as Bruno. You grabbed his hand and then tore him out of his room, which he yelped at in shock and then smiled by your eagerness.

Soon you were with Bruno in the kitchen and asked what you and him can help the others with. Bruno helped Julieta by cooking, and you helped Isabela spread the Marigolds. Then you helped with setting the desk and decorating Casita.

After a few hours you were all done and waited for the night to come, to celebrate.

Bruno and you were in the Living room reading and cuddling together while the others either played or talked about things for the next Dia De Los Muertos.

The night has arrived and you and Bruno had sneaked out of Encanto to bring Bruno’s Father his gifts. You selected them with him and set them near the River.

“Happy Dia De Los Muertos, Senor Madrigal.”, you said as you set it down and looked at the River.

“Happy Dia De Los Muertos, Padre.”, Bruno said softly.

Then you giggled and pulled out Marigolds and started a trail into the Encanto.

“Y/n ? What are you doing ?”

“Bringing your Dad into Encanto !”

“He got washed away right after he was slain. There is no certainty that this will work.”

“Don’t be such a wuss and help me !”

Bruno looked at you nervous and you sighed and continued until the Marigolds were connected to the rest of the streets of Encanto.

After you were done you ran back to Bruno and dragged him into Casita, unbeknownst to you two that a certain someone was watching you with a smile and followed the Marigolds for the very first time.

Alma was angry as she found out that you made a trail from outside to inside Encanto, but she didn’t let her anger consume her. Not today. You only wanted to help and that is all the more reason to not have a fit right now.

Soon the Madrigals ate and celebrated like there was no tomorrow. But everything stopped when a golden glow emitted in the center of their yard. Soon enough everyone gasped in shock and Alma almost fainted.

In the Center of the yard of Casita stood Pedro Madrigal. He had a big smile on his face and chuckled.

“It’s good to finally be able to see my Family again.”, he said.

“Pedro…?”, Alma asked.

“Hello Love.”, Pedro greeted back.

“I KNEW IT !”, you yelled and shook a shocked Bruno.

Pedro looked at you and chuckled.

“Thank you for helping me here. I never found my way to them after I died. This is my very first time.”

Alma looked at him in horror. His very first time…?

“So you never saw them growing up ?”, she asked.

“Sadly no. But I look at my kids now and I see just how much they grew and how happy they have become.”

Alma smiled, but knew she had to come clean with her Husband.

But even after Alma came clean, Pedro wasn’t angry with her. He was happy that his mijas (daughters) and hijo (Son) found love and maybe, just maybe, his hijo will have a child too. One day.

Today he was just happy to be with them and to talk with them.

END

#Bruno x Reader #Halloween Oneshot #Bruno Madrigal #Madrigal Family #Happy Halloween

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impossiblefangirl0632 · 2 years

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Family Looks Out for Each Other

A decade without sunlight or enough food or water takes a heavy toll on the human body. Bruno knows he has a problem but he's handling it. (He's so tired)

Five times Bruno refused to accept help

And one time he asked for it.

......

“Um, Tío? Why are you on the floor?”

“Hmm?” Bruno idly tapped the carpet beneath him, still waiting for feeling to come back to his legs and for the world to stop spinning.

He blinked up at Luisa. “Oh, well this rug’s really soft and the couch was too far so,” he gave a half-hearted little shrug.

Luisa glanced at the couch less than 10 feet away. “If you say so Tío.”

Read the rest here

((Basically I read @breannaaiedail ‘s One Step Beyond update and @cannibalthoughts ‘s Object Permanence and had a lot of Feelings^tm))

#encanto #encanto fanfic #encanto oneshot #encanto fanfiction #my fic #bruno madrigal #hope it's okay I tagged you two #tell me if it's not

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mmollymercury · 2 years

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I made a little one-shot of Bruno coming out... Well, kind of; he does so without knowing what ‘coming out’ is or what ‘aro/ace’ is. I mean, this is 1918.

Anyway, feast:

Slight TW: eating issues (mentioned briefly)

--- -- -

Bruno sucked in enough air to fill both his lungs and took long strides forward. He'd been thinking about this all night; using his gift to make sure this was the right choice. However, he only saw new scenes from the strange rodent-play his ability apparently really wanted him to see. But he supposed it was relevant. A character in it lead the life he aspired for and was accepted by his family; surely that was a good sign.

He took some more (stalling) deep breaths before rounding the corner to greet his mother, who was hunched over the kitchen table: fixing up holes in one of Pepa's dresses.

“What is it, cariño?” she asked. Eyes never leaving the needle.

Better cut straight to the chase. She's busy.

Okay, Bruno... you can do this! You can do this, you can do this! Just like we practiced. Ready? Speak now in:

“W-well, you know how Pepa got a boyfriend and- well, maybe Juli might get one soon? And then you’d probably-"

“Do you have a girlfriend, Bruno?” Alma’s head snapped up and away from her work. An unfamiliar look was in her eyes and it made Bruno stutter back in fear.

“Who is she?” She asked. Voice small and-

Did she look... anxious?

Isn't that my thing? His brain quipped, a bit angrily; she’d previously implied that that was an imperfection of his.

He waved his hands, trying to shoo away her sudden disappointment, as well as his awful thoughts regarding his madre.

“Ur- no, no I don’t, that’s what I came to talk to you about." He tilted his head as his face began careening towards the floor; breaking into a nervous smile.

His mother sighed to herself. Relieved. She adjusted the cuffs of her blouse before folding her hands in perfect, stoic silence, then she cleared her throat:

“Alright? What is it, then?” her voice was steely as she peered down at him from barely-open eyes, face so upright and regale it made Bruno cough into his chest.

“Ya-you know how Señor Flores doesn’t have a wife or-or anything like that?”

Alma raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, he doesn’t. He’s a priest.”

Her son laughed anxiously; then started to twirl the fabric of his ruana around his skeletal fingers. Alma tapped them away, unhappy with his childish fiddling. Her touch might have lingered on his knuckles for a bit too long however...

She needed to fatten him up.

“Hmm-" Bruno pulled his fingers away and played it off like he was itchy: quickly brushing his palms up and down the sides of his torso. "‐and I know I’m not one... but I do go to church every Sunday! And I’ve been consulting God!" He added proudly.

"I think I’d like to... live a life of celibacy! No romance or anything- anything that comes with it...!” Alma didn’t miss the disgust that washed over his face as he said that. “... is... that okay...?”

For a moment, his rapid heartbeat was all he could hear.

“Oh, Brunito! Such a martyr you are!” Alma smiled. The black shawl she mostly covered her arms with, billowed around her shoulders when she clasped her hands together in glee. Glee that was much greater than she allowed herself to show. After all, no-one could truly be good enough for her son.

That and he was too young. Even though she knew he was the same age as his sisters... Still. He still needed her. He was only a bebé.

“That’s brilliant, mi amor!”

“It- it is?”

“Yes! Such a noble sacrifice for our miracle, well done, tesoro!”

She let some of her bold exterior slide and part of her mothering nature step forth because; she pulled Bruno towards her, hugging him in congratulations. Bruno on the other hand... swallowed thickly. A cloud of guilt consuming him like one of Pepa’s rainstorms: from head to toe.

“Ur- heh, heh yeah... sacrifice...”

Was it really a sacrifice if he'd never wanted what he was sacrificing in the first place? He hadn't expected this- or for her to take his words and come up with this meaning. He truly wanted to come clean about a part of himself. He wanted to share and get her respect... acceptance, just by being like this. There was no elaborate reason for this, this was just what he wanted.

Wasn't that enough?

“You’ll have to put more time into your work now, you do realise!" Alma pulled away and held him at an arms length. Her fingers lay atop his protruding collarbones before shifting obviously. "No matchmaking excuses for you, Brunito. If you choose to be treated as a prophet, you must honour the lifestyle of one. Understand? You are married to your work now.”

There was that tone again. The one that demanded order and attention; Bruno was a vertebrae but in moments like these, he had no backbone.

“Oh urm, yes mamá, of course.”

“Good boy, I’ll go inform the village right away.” she smiled.

Just before turning around she cupped his cheek. Bruno’s mouth went dry in confusion and longing. He wanted desperately to feel loved by his mother and she was looking at him with such gentle eyes and stroking his face with such tender warmth... He normally shyed away from eye contact but now, he stared at her with expecting, wide sockets...

“My little prophet...”

Then she was gone.

He sighed. That's not what he wanted her to say...

His eyes moved to the yellow sneaking into his peripheral; unsurprisingly, he was now gazing down at his sister and Félix, giggling and kissing underneath a beautiful double rainbow. He was happy for his sister and he actually liked Félix... but ew. At least he wouldn't have to be doing any of that.

He managed a smile. Mentally preparing for the onslaught of clients his mother's announcement would surely bring...

#encanto #disney encanto #bruno madrigal #my fanfiction #encanto fanfiction #asexual aromatic bruno #coming out #encanto headcanons #oneshot #drabble #fluff and angst #alma madrigal #abuela alma encanto #pepa x félix #pepa madrigal #💫my stories📖

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viridianvisions · 2 years

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Prompted by @neon-green-eyes ' First Kiss post, have an entirely indulgent description of how I'm convinced Bruno would be.

My headcannon is that he can be surprisingly romantic and bold when acting as some other character or form of himself - but the moment his true self is exposed, he can't seem to fathom the idea of being liked for who he really is. Reader is determined to convince him otherwise. 😳

(For context, the characters Bruno and reader play as are inspired by the Spanish version of "The Little Prince", an originally French novel that I have never read but probably should.)

Enjoy! 😉

~*~

I am stirred awake by the sound of a textured and familiar voice caressing my earlobe, a soft and peremptory pressure against my cheek interrupting what wayward worries were crowding my mind but a moment ago.

"Dèjame besarte, amorcito," he whispers in fruity tones against my ear, and a cascade of tremulous impulses dances along my spine from where his lips hover tentatively over my skin.

Let me kiss you.

"Príncipe..." I breathe, falling into his embrace as he pulls me against his quietly heaving chest. We stay here for a long while, the ebb and flow of our lungs expanding in sync, warm puffs of his sweet breath fanning across my nape as his arms gently tighten around my waist, securing me closer than I dare thought possible. If only I could bottle this feeling and sip on it forever, drinking in his still warmth and earthy scent that engulfs my senses in naive and heady bliss... Like petrichor after a storm, though the tumultuous thundering of my heart has yet to cease. And at this rate, as Bruno sways us gently to and fro, his chin resting in the curve of my neck, I suspect it never will.

After an interminable moment he tossles the still night air with a sigh and pulls back, his long fingers curling against the side of my face and tracing the underside of my jaw.

"Mi perfecto rosa," he croons, his languid gaze boring into me as endlessly deep pools of midnight green. "The stars are in your eyes, cariño."

My heartbeat hiccups, stumbling in blind euphoria as it trips over itself. I know that he doesn't realise just how little acting is required on my part to appear enamoured (the only real effort being that of trying not to collapse from the impossibility of it all), but he is steadily tearing away the tissue-thin layers of defensive distance I had put between myself and the mere idea of him in this way. His own performance has been beyond unexpected, bold, even daring to venture into sultriness - and, for but a measure in time, painfully convincing.

The scene is not yet over, and I resolve to play into my role with what little resourcefulness I have left. If I have but this single, fleeting chance to reveal my true feelings to the fictitious Madrigal Prince before me, never to be spoken of again, then I have already committed to plunging headfirst with baited breath.

"I'm beginning to think you've done this before," I tease, prodding the prolonged silence, and he chuckles. "I might start calling you Romeo instead."

"Maybe I have, Señorita Rosa," He says with a viscous wink that sends my pulse fluttering like a dandelion on the breeze. "Once, in my dreams."

An almost wistful smile darts across his lips, his gaze drifting into the distance behind me as if in recollection of something special. Then it is gone and the theatrical Prince has returned again.

"But Romeo just won't do, mi flor. I'm afraid it's been taken already, by someone a lot more effective with his words."

I feign distress and throw my head back, one hand draped over my forehead.

"Oh, how ever am I to choose a suitable name for mi Principito?" It is all I can do to suppress a giggle. "Let me see... Crespo?"

His playful disapproval is just as dramatic. "Do you see me only for my luscious locks, oh Señorita Rosa?"

"Hmm you're right, Senor Guapo."

"Guapo, ey? Am I not more than just my dashing good looks?"

I am drifting closer to him again, in stop-frame motion, as if being reeled in on a string.

"Of course- y-you are so much more," I say, the bass drum that is pounding against my sternum surely audible above the din of my irrational thoughts. "T-to me, you've always been..."

I can see his breath hitch, as if he finally realises that this is no longer an act. That it's never been an act for me, not from the moment I first came to know him. But just as quickly as it broke, the careful masquerade of his braver persona seals over the cracks once more.

"Ah, I see," he says with a mock-bow and a twirling of his wrist. "On account of my princely chivalry, you may call me-"

"Bruno."

My voice can be threaded through the eye of a needle, small and thin as I call his only true name. The real Prince Madrigal, who stole my heart and never returned it. "I would call you Bruno. My- my Prince."

There is a wildfire flaring up across my face, hot and untamable, and I know that there is no hiding this any longer. His ever-so-slightly confused smile shifts as he ponders my expression, his entire countenance computing the fact that I have wrenched away the curtain covers once and for all, revealing every sincere longing that I have had since the very beginning.

His eyes are drawing incrementally nearer again, those dream-laden wells that always seem to be reading me over and over, inside-out and back-to-front like a reel of worn typing paper. I need to be immersed in them, now more than ever before - unwavering portals to his soul speaking the words that have yet to be uttered aloud, or desires that long to be reflected in the vulnerable words of unhindered confession.

"Y-you'll always be my diente de leon," he finally says, a sudden and intense flush prickling along his cheekbones like a sprig of grass catching alight as he swallows nervously.

There he is.

The very first time he had nicknamed me, we were sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room, sprawling out the script of the weekly stage show that we'd come to look forward to putting on for the kids of the Encanto. We had been growing in popularity amongst the little ones, and took it upon ourselves to come up with a grand new plot each week. Eventually "El Principito and Señorita Rosa" became something of a "fan favourite" pair. The Madrigals would routinely join in on the crowd too; in hindsight, it was difficult to miss the amused glances of the more astute and perceptive family members - usually Julieta, and often Dolores, who would give me a cosy smile and a little shrug of her shoulders as she scurried past.

I recall that day well, as we sat reciting our lines, just he and I in the inviting warmth of the lazy midday sun - I kept repeating the wrong words, and with that he had dubbed me the "forgetful dandelion".

"Y' know, like 'poof!' Gone on the wind." He had chortled a little too hard, and I had promptly whacked him over the head with my wad of papers, an encroaching fondness blooming in my chest that I dismissed as friendly admiration at the time.

It still confounds me how this fumbling, foot-shifting, stammering man before me can possibly be the same one that was, mere minutes ago, reciting sweet nothings as easily as if he were conversing about the weather, and holding me as if to never relinquish me to the cold space of reality surrounding us. But this is the Bruno I slipped and fell for, rolling down the mountainside with no intention of landing - and everyone but him seems to know it.

"I promised to stick around for a b-" he says, his voice catching as he realises how little space currently exists between us. He clears his throat. "For a bit. Well, more than a bit if- if you wanted me to, a-and it's been great - seriously, a-amazing - getting to be your friend..."

"Is this what friends do, Bruno?" I whisper, my face now dangerously close to his and he gulps, blinking furiously. And then he is leaning in closer, and closer still, until the last thing I see is the diamond facets of his emerald irises, absolutely incandescent in the light of the moon.

"K-kiss me Bruno..." I push out between erratic breaths, and he pauses for a microsecond - perhaps to give himself internal permission - before his eyelashes flutter shut and his mouth swoops in to cradle mine between the feathery pillow of his lips.

My hands find their way beneath the textile landscape of his ruana without conscious instruction; gliding along the cords in his arms, up and over his collarbones, palms splaying out across his shoulder blades as if they've always known how to traverse this foreign topography. His own run slowly down my sides and across the small of my back, his hum reverberating through the auditorium of my chest as his lips stroke mine carefully, almost unsure, but with an unbearable tenderness. I tilt against the pressure of his mouth with a small gasp, fingers sliding up the back of his neck and raking through mussed silvery curls, tugging gently.

We finally break apart for air, flushed and brightly burning with delight as we take in the sight of each other without the theatre masks - raw and giddy and uncertain and beautiful, oh so beautiful in its imperfection.

"Bruno..."

He laughs softly and rests his forehead against mine, the tip of his nose brushing my own and the corkscrew strands of his flyaway hair tickling my cheekbones as they fall across his furrowed brow.

"Wh-what's so funny?" I ask with a small smile, still in the space between absolute disbelief and dazed pleasure.

"Nothing, I - it's just that - you keep using my name. My - my real name." His fingers are tangling slowly with mine, palms fitting together as if magnetised.

"Hmm... Yes, Bruno..."

I cling to his shirt collar with my free hand and dab my lips to his, over and over, unable to keep away for more than a few seconds at a time.

"Say it again," he murmurs against my mouth, and my heart arrests.

"Bruno."

"Again..."

I can barely breathe now, the air rasping though my throat as an almost imperceptible squeak. This is all too much for me to handle.

"Bru-"

And before I can finish, I am halted by the overwhelming sensation of rising static prickling across the surface of my skin, like a bolt of electric ecstacy, as his supple, parted lips press into my neck like a branding iron. He follows a tediously long course down the curve of my forearm, across my clavicle and along the side of my jaw, lingering at each point for what seems like a burning eternity until I can take it no longer.

My hands are riding up into his hair again and he groans softly, our lips plastered together in fervour. He might just be a Romeo afterall.

How long we remain like this, I do not know. But what I do know is that this telenovela is getting an entirely different ending to what we both expected. The Prince and the Pauperess, walking hand-in-hand into the fading sunset as the stage curtain drops behind us, a new door opening with a wave of its hinges as we step with shy excitement into the new and unknown.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*

#bruno madrigal x reader #fluff oneshot #first kiss #Lots of first kisses actually #I had fun #(~￣³￣)~#A little too much fun...#We talk about Bruno #And daydream about him too apparently #Oh no it's happening #encanto prompts #In this Casita...#Goodnight #💚#encanto fanfic #Encanto #Bruno Encanto #Save me from this man

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cannibalthoughts · 2 years

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Every time something shifted, the dust caught in Bruno’s eyes and throat. Around the rubble, people he had not seen in ten years—longer, most of them—coughed up Casita’s ghost, swirling around their knees like so much fog in a graveyard. At some point, someone started handing out bits of fabric to use as masks.

Mariano Guzmán gave Bruno a bolt of fabric, maybe a sash or a scarf. He was much larger, up close, than he had seemed during the proposal dinner. Bruno held very still until he moved on to Pepa and Félix, then tried to shrink away. Everywhere, there were people, and most of them hated him. There was nowhere left to go.

For Encantober day 18: tired

#encanto #encantober #my fic #bruno madrigal #alma madrigal #pepa madrigal #the lore behind this prompt is that I actually have 1500+ words of a completely different oneshot #unfortunately. none of them are interesting.#but you know what's always interesting? The Madrigals the day after Casita fell #I promise I love her no matter how many fics I write where she's dead

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sansxfuckyou · 1 year

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Me, Myself and I (she's not real, it's not true)

Summary: Your gift is a curse, is it even yours? Or is it simply being passed from person to person, you don't even know what you like anymore; just a curly haired teen? A giddy child? A confused girl who can't get out? In essence, they're all you, everyone is.

Warnings: Identity Crisis, check tags for further warnings.

Authors Note: Watched Encanto again, forgot how much angst potential was packed into this boy, convinced to actually write it by @sobredunia who has the magic touch when it comes to making me write shit, and the direction I was going with the gender bit was less on the transgender end of the spectrum, but more of the, what you could've been end of the spectrum, reblogs are always appreciated.

You look in a mirror, you don't know what you see.

You don't know who you see, every morning it's different, 'me myself and I' the therapist said; the therapist is wrong.

You're not her, you're not it- you're not Mira, you're not Camilo, you are Camilo, but Camilo is not needed, like Mira.

You aren't needed, Abuela is needed, Pepa is needed, Julieta is needed, even Bruno is needed; but you aren't, who you can become is what's really needed. You'll be given a list of everyone elses chores, and you'll do them under the guise it really is Mira playing with the neighbor kids, it really is Julieta washing the dishes even though it never is.

It's you, it's you, it always has been you. Has it really?

Felix gives you chores, you, she, it, 'me, myself and I,' one of whatever exists within will do it, but all of it is you, and none of her is you; you've lost yourself. If yourself even exists underneath the never ending life of lies you uphold for The Family Madrigal, for The Encanto and for the love and respect of those you hold so dearly despite knowing they only need you for what you can be- not for what you are.

And each morning you know it to be truer and truer as you look in the mirrors, none of them reflect you anymore, they only reflect what you're supposed to be, meant to mimic. The local seamstress, a mother in need, anyone and everyone but you, and then there are faces you don't recognize from the town, and faces that aren't human.

You see yourself, eyes emerald, hair curly, frame thin, everything so close to the same except for the fact you aren't wearing what you always do; you're wearing a dress that you've memorized. The top piece is white, the sleeves are short, the waist has a sash with chameleon sigils, the skirt is sunflower yellow, and you look so good in that dress, but she isn't you (Is she, was she supposed to be?). In another mirror you see a distorted child, crouching down to be at eye level, pressing hands together, knowing it is you, it was you, knowing it could still be you; grinning and failing the family so blissfully. You tell the child everything will be fine, nothing will go wrong and too never stop smiling despite knowing that child has a future that will change it forever for the worse- and the child can only stare at you, knowing its fate despite being so young.

This room, this cell, and this prison is all yours, everyone of the Family Madrigal resides in it, its everyones all at once, yet Casita doesn't treat them like prisoners. You know its not on purpose, you know your gift reflects in your room, you're far too aware of the fact that no matter how many mirrors you smash you're only making more. Shards of broken glass swept up as glass reforms, pulls together, lets you to see into your soul and to see nothing left but a hollow vessel that's bursting at the seams with how much of nothing fills it. It's just you, whatever components of what you really are left over, that's what there is, the girl, the child and you, she's not real, it isn't the truth.

You, Camilo Madrigal, the shapeshifter who makes everyone smile, have an empty purpose because they don't want you, and you know it chips at your self esteem every time you think that, but its true, its true, its true. Nobody needs Camilo, they need everyone but you, you're everyone but Camilo at this point, you fill roles when they can't be there to do it themselves.

'Me, myself and I,' you'll never know them, not if they never existed in a way you could understand.

You're just a chameleon, but a chameleon knows itself.

---

Waking up, you find yourself not even bothering to glance in the mirrors, none of them show what you think is you, nor will they ever because you don't exist. Why should you exist if no one wants you around, you're just a fun-house mirror that shows everyone what they want to see, and no one wants to see you anymore.

Breakfast is slow, you stay quiet, giving your two cents here and there like you always do, dread sinking in even further because breakfast is almost over and you haven't asked you of anything. You refrain from grabbing seconds, you'll get in trouble if you do that, you simply stay seated and wait for Abuela to give you a chore as she lists off tasks for everyone, skipping over you. Luisas dealing with the donkeys, Isabella has to help a farmer, Mirabel is babysitting a group of kids, and you're left without anything to do.

"Abuela?" You pipe up, tone firm, tone sharp, tone unwavering, you've become used to picking and choosing your favorite parts of everyones voices.

"Yes Camilo?" Abuela asked, turning to you.

"What about my job?" You ask, fork migrating to Dolores plate, she doesn't seem to notice as you nab some of her food.

"You don't have one today, theirs nothing the town needs from you right now," Abuela answered with, cracks in your vessel spread as she confirmed your fears, you refrained from tearing up.

"Okay, what should I do than?" You ask, unable to help the pleading tone in your voice, guidance direction, you don't know much of what you're supposed to do when theirs nothing your gift can do for you, for everyone else.

"You should help Bruno for the day," Dolores said, perfectly repressing her expressions, the Madrigal in question perked up at the mention of his name.

"Lovely idea, Dolores," Abuela said, smiling softly as she stood, everyone else following suite and filtering out of Casita, Bruno swift in his attempt to leave, you followed like an orphan duckling, still unaware of who Bruno needed for the job.

And so you followed Bruno, patiently waiting for instruction as you scaled stair after stair, he was simply mumbling to himself. The top of the stairs was to say the least, the most welcoming sight of the week, you took a seat. It was weird, doing anything and being yourself, whatever part of yourself you liked to reflect, and you weren't sure if you liked it.

"So, Tío Bruno, who do you need on the job?" You asked, stretching out your arms a little bit.

"Ah, you followed me up here, of course you did, I don't need help, but you can help if you want to," Bruno said, you quirked a brow.

"Okay, but, who do you want on the job?" You asked again, changing your words ever so slightly, this man, one generation before you, surely understood the question.

"I want you too help me drain my Vision Cave of sand so I have somewhere to give visions," Bruno said again, adding more information, you still didn't understand it entirely.

"Right, so... Luisa?" You asked, shifting your form to your older cousin Luisa, Bruno groaned.

"No, guess again," Bruno said, you shifted to Mira, he shook his head, Isabella, he shook his head, Dolores or Tonito, two shakes of the head, you give up.

"Just tell me who you want help from so I can help," you practically begged, unable to just trust that anyone out there could want your help, not someone elses.

"Come back once you figure it out, and bring a broom, there is a lot of sand up here," Bruno said, pivoting on one foot before heading further into the cave, his rats following close in line, leaving you alone, "talk to Julieta, she might be able to help."

You tried to stutter out a response, but nothing wanted to come out no matter whose voice you picked. So stubbornly, you turned to leave, pivoting on foot like Bruno, huffing a bit as you started on your trek back down all those fucking stairs.

---

You're panting when you make it to the kitchen, finding your Tía Julieta prepping a meal, she takes note of your existence by calling you over. You follow, gripping the edge of the counter for support, legs numb and shaking, a bruise here and there from when you tripped, a small cut on your face. Julieta hands you an arepa, fresh off the heat, you take it gratefully, trying to eat slowly despite how tempted you are to just wolf it down; be polite, don't be crass, you wipe your hands down on a stray towel.

"Aren't you working with Bruno, sobrino?" Julieta asked, turning to face the food on the counter, back to prep work, but you know she's at least half listening.

"He sent me off when I couldn't guess who he needed for the job, I have to bring him a broom soon," you explained, nibbling away at the morsel in your hands, delicious as always, "he said you might be able to help me figure it out."

"I don't know how much help I can be, but I'll try sobrino," Julieta said, flipping a few of the arepas on the stove before turning to you.

"He just kept saying that he wanted my help, not someone elses, which is not only estúpido, but confusing, no one wants my help, they just want copies," you explained, hoping that Julieta could even attempt to get it, to make sense of what Bruno was saying, she didn't respond right away.

"Well, Camilo, have you considered he could actually want your help?" Julieta asked gently, you gave a tilted look before responding.

"No ones wanted my help since I was five, all everyone has ever wanted in this town is everyone elses help when they can't be around, no one wants my help Tía Julieta," you explained, her expression sunk a bit, you spoke again before she could try and comfort you, "I know everyone in this town better than myself, I could be your perfect pal, be everyone in this town, but it'll never be me."

"Camilo, that's not true," Julieta said, you raised a brow at her, as though waiting for her justification for such a bold statement, "it feels that way, but we do want you around, we promise."

"This isn't even me, I look in a mirror and I don't know who I see, it's not me I know that much, I see what I'm supposed to be, what everyone needs, and no one needs me," you unraveled, trying to make it clear, trying to make your Tía understand, she wouldn't get it though, no ones gift was a curse in the same way yours was, "I don't even know why I'm telling you this, you aren't even mamá."

"That's because you're supposed to be everyone, you are everyone, you're one of the strings that keep this village held together, more so than some of the other Madrigals; you're a mirror," Julieta explained, trying to comfort your case of mistaken identity, your case of just not knowing anymore, "thank you for telling me."

"That's the problem, I'm the mirror, the truest mirror in town, and because of that, no mirror can reflect myself back at me, mirrors just show me everyone else I'm meant to reflect- I'm no chameleon, just a piece of broken glass," you said, pace hastening, heartrate picking up, digging deeper into your twisted psyche of never knowing what they'll need but knowing it won't be you, Camilo Madrigal.

"Stay here, watch the arepas," Julieta instructed, you nodded before she left, snagging a second arepa, regretting not having eaten enough this morning.

Her footsteps receded further and further until you couldn't hear her anymore, leaving you to yourself to stare at your own broken reflection of a curly haired girl in a dress looking back at you from the flattop. You smiled a little bit, you liked her, the child started to look back at you next, you had to refrain from holding out a hand to it like you always did, not wanting to get that many burns. Soon enough their reflections faded out, what you could've been and what you were, leaving only you behind; footsteps, rapid footsteps, you looked up to find Pepa clearly distressed, carrying a small hailstorm with her.

One moment your getting ready to say high the next you're no longer on the ground and the air is being squeezed from your lungs by Pepa, and you wish you were confused as to why. She doesn't let go, even why you try to nudge away, hail stinging as it hits, like ice against your neck, and she's crying a little bit. You know exactly why, Julieta told her everything, hail turns to a drizzle and she doesn't notice.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry we let you feel like that," Pepa sobbed out, continuing on in a similar fashion as she let you down, using her forearm to wipe her tears.

"No, mamá, it's perfectly fine, deep breathes," you said, trying to reassure her and ease her frayed nerves in one go, somehow managing one of the two.

"It's not fine, Abuela caused this, she let everyone use you, I'm so sorry Camilo," Pepa said, sniffling a little bit as the rain cloud started to fade just barely.

"Mamá, I promise you, everything is okay," you said, she gave a questioning look, you nodded a little bit.

"I'll make sure the rest of the familia knows," Pepa said, already determined to make sure her boy could smile earnestly once again, you shook your head.

"Please don't, it's fine if they don't need my help," you said, she went to speak again, you spoke first, "I don't want them to worry."

"Alright, I won't tell anyone except for Bruno," Pepa said, pulling you in for one more hug before turning to leave you alone with your reflection again.

And when you looked at it, looked at the hollow reflection, you saw a part of yourself you always did, the two looked a little bit better though; a bit more alive. You didn't know why they looked healthier, you weren't sure if you ever would be able to perceive your 'me, myself and I' the way everyone else does, but it doesn't matter. They don't looks so forlorn, and the childs distortion has begun to fade and its just a little bit of your own miracle.

You smile and wave as though they're separate people.

And you see the you that everyone else does smiling and waving back at you, colors stuck in sepia and grayscale, distortion strong- but it's you.

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kitsune024 · 1 year

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Encanto Fanfiction

Set in stone by WhistlingWolf13

Fanart by yes-asil

It had been so long since he had been in here. For years already, he had fully believed that he would never see the room again. Standing here now, letting his gaze roam around, he was surprised to find disappointment settling heavily in his chest. He’d managed to get inside. Already, he felt trapped within the tall walls. Defeated, somehow, like the room had managed to pull him back into its grip and never planned to let go.

---

Mirabel finds Bruno standing outside the door to his room and learns that he hasn't dared to enter since the magic returned. She never expected that following him inside would lead to new revelations about her tío, his powers and his past.

Chapters: 1/1

#WhistlingWolf13 #fanart by yes-asil #bruno fanfic #encanto fanfic #fanart #mirabel madrigal #bruno madrigal #bruno and mirabel #bruno fanart #mirabel fanart #disney fanfiction #encanto #oneshot fic #completed fanfiction #ao3 fanfic

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breannasfluff · 2 years

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Mirabel presses one hand above her eyes in an attempt to stop the pounding in her head. The other is flattened to the rug, trying to convince her body the room isn’t actually moving. Bruno kneels in front of her, full of gentle concern. He pulls her hand away from her forehead and replaces it with his own. “Ay! You’re burning up!” She bats his hand away. “I’m fine, tío. Just overdid it a little.” “You’re sick. Why didn’t you say anything?” “It’s not important. It’s just a little cold.”

#encanto fanfic #mirabel madrigal #bruno madrigal #sickfic #oneshot

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acewithapaintbrush · 2 years

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Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Encanto (2021) Summary:

The one I have fondly named "Lovable asshole Bruno" in my docs.

Another one I have expanded and rewritten a little bit, so please give it another read

#encanto #encanto fanfic #encanto drabbles #encanto oneshots #bruno madrigal #Sassy bruno #Troublemaker bruno #bruno my beloved #camilo madrigal #isabela madrigal #bruno is a little shit

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lapseinrecs · 3 months

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Promesa

By mika (Queenie_97)

On Archive of Our Own

Status: Oneshot; 2046 words

The night of his vision, Bruno searches for Julieta. He'll show her what he saw. His older sister surely will know what to do. Julieta is just tired. She can't deal with him tonight.

My thoughts: hey its another fic thAT BROKE MY HEART. Also you need an AO3 account for this one

#encanto #bruno madrigal #julieta madrigal #complete #oneshot

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naoko-world · 1 year

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A little fic for Valentine's day!

Here is a fic that, for some personal reasons, I wanted to post during Valentine's day! It's a fic I wrote because I was angry, and my anger led me to have pictures of it. No, actually I totally imagined it entirely in my mind! It's a Bruno/GN!reader story and I hope you'll like it!

Edit: I changed the title! It changed from "A day to fall in love" to "Lovers for a day (and beyond)" because I wasn't sure of the title at all!

Summary:

The day after a party, Bruno wakes up to find you, his crush, in the courtyard, claiming he's your boyfriend. In front of his amnesia due to alcohol, and his hesitation, you suggests him to go out with you during one day, and decide at the end of it if he wants to continue.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Encanto (2021) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bruno Madrigal/Reader, Isabela Madrigal & Mirabel Madrigal, Agustín Madrigal & Bruno Madrigal & Félix Madrigal, Reader & Original Character(s), Bruno Madrigal & Original Character(s) Characters: Reader, Bruno Madrigal, Félix Madrigal, Agustín Madrigal, Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character(s) of Color, Original Female Character(s), Mirabel Madrigal, Isabela Madrigal, Julieta Madrigal Additional Tags: Hanahaki Disease, definitively proofread, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Fluff, Oneshot, for Valentine's Day, because for personal reasons, Gender-neutral Reader, Bruno has insecurities, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Bruno is 50 and reader is in their 20's, Bruno Madrigal Has Self-Worth Issues, Bruno Madrigal Has a Crush, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Happy Ending

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impossiblefangirl0632 · 2 years

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Midnight Mischief: Milk Edition

Camilo crept through the courtyard, out the door, and down the hill into town with full confidence in his plan.

This was a great idea. No questions. None whatsoever.

Except…

He didn't know if he could actually pull it off by himself.

Now usually his pranks were an easy one-man show. How could they not when he could be literally anyone?

But the fact of the matter was he needed an accomplice for this one. Not even he could be in two places at once.

The problem was finding someone who'd help him.

He stopped walking.

Maybe he should have thought about this before he snuck out.

The obvious answer was Antonio but there was no way he was risking his parent’s wrath by taking Antonio on a 2 am prank excursion

Mirabel then? Camilo pursed his lips. Maybe…

“Camilo.”

Now, don’t let Bruno lie to you, Camilo Madrigal did NOT scream when Bruno snuck up on him. He totally did

But to be fair you would have too if your uncle with a penchant for mischief and a pair of glowing green eyes snuck up on you in the middle of the night.

“Tio!” Camilo wheezed, “Don’t DO that!”

Bruno just snickered, “Ah Sobrino, that’ll never get old.”

Camilo glared at him.

Well, there went that plan. He was in so much trouble.

But, never one to give up easily Camilo stalled for time. “So…” He adopted a casual tone, that oozed I’ve done nothing wrong, everything about this is completely normal. “What brings you out tonight hmm?”

Bruno raised an eyebrow, which only made him look eerier. Camilo really wished he wouldn’t use his eyes as a flashlight. Actually, now that he thought about it that was probably why 6-year-old him had formed the opinion that Bruno was some sort of boogeyman.

Bruno shrugged, nonchalant. “Oh, you know, just checking up on my trouble maker Sobrino, gotta find out if he has a good excuse for sneaking out at 2 am. It’s important information when deciding whether or not to tell his madre—”

Camilo broke character, panicking “Don’t tell her! Please! This is, this isn’t a normal prank it’s—”

Bruno’s faux serious expression broke and he laughed. “Ay, Milo, I’m not going to tell Pepa. I’m here to help you.”

Camilo opened his mouth to argue before processing his uncle’s words. “Wait, help me? You don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“Ohhh, so you’re not trying to drive all of Señor Hernández’s cows into the donkeys' favorite spot, ie the middle of town, meanwhile putting the donkeys in the pasture where they’ll be incredibly annoying to gather up again. And of course, all of this definitely isn’t to give him an exaggerated taste of his own medicine because it’s Luisa’s day off tomorrow and wayward animals don’t count as an emergency so he’ll have to round them all up by himself.”

Camilo blinked.

“How did you— Wait no, stupid question.” Camilo brightened immediately, his trademark mischievous grin slid smoothly back into place. “If you saw it then it works!”

A matching grin spread across Bruno’s face. If his sisters had seen it they would have groaned and told the unfortunate soul he was planning on wreaking havoc on to run for the hills. But then again Bruno never did anything that wasn’t deserved so maybe not.

He schooled his face back into Serious Adult. “Exactly. But. The terms of me not telling Pepa are that we have to actually milk the cows. Hernández isn’t going to do it while he’s panicking and it’s not good for them if they don’t get milked.”

Camilo scrunched up his face but didn’t argue. That was… fair. But, “Do you even know how to milk a cow?”

Bruno gave him a deadpan look. “Kid, we were refugees with nothing, it took roughly 20 years for the Encanto to get to any sort of comfortable stability. When I was your age milking cows was something I could do to be useful that didn’t involve visions or people.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” Bruno clapped his hands together. “Right, well, let’s go teach an incompetent rancher the importance of fixing his fences.”

In the morning when a panicked Señor Hernández banged on Casita’s door to request Luisa’s help Camilo took great pleasure in not so politely informing him that it was actually Luisa’s day off and maybe he should work on keeping better track of his animals.

And if the exhausted duo (who knew getting cows to move would be so HARD) had been forcibly put to work by a knowing Julieta to use up the abundance of milk they’d brought home, well, that was something that would just have to be kept in the family.

#encanto milk day #encanto fanfic #encanto ficlet #encanto oneshot #does this count as a crack fic?#Didn't think I was gonna participate in milk day but then I had this idea #so here we are #bruno madrigal #camilo madrigal #my fic

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