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sweet underfoot: remaining notes. vignettes and outlines of plot and conversations that would have taken the fic to its natural end. loose form but hopefully satisfying for those looking for something of an ending here.
ā
āYouāve - seen me? As inā¦ Through visions?ā Mirabel asked, looking at him through her wide and beautiful eyes. Bruno traced his gaze over her glasses and shrugged, incapable of hiding his smile.
āYouāre a vision yourself, my little sobrina,ā he teased, sitting down at her side. Casita nudged Mirabel a half step closer to him and he watched as she blushed, and straightened her skirts.
āYou know what I mean.ā She said humbly,
ā
It wasnāt as he pictured it would be. Bruno found himself edging closer to her,
Iāve - ive seen you, Mirabel. His voice raw, his hands twisting. Iāve watched you. I donāt know if I could ever deserve - Youāre the best of us, and itās your decision.
ā
Bruno begrudgingly attends the party. The Encanto distracts him for much of the night aside from manly talk of girls and he watches Mira dance. Parties and girls and wine and every dark eye on him all night like heāll crack and tell them itās over. But the magic is strong!
He retreats, looking vaguely for Mirabel, sensing her heartbreak.
The cracks appear as Mirabel is having her moment alone as in the movie. He joins her and Alma in the courtyard. Alma accuses him of putting her up to it before gaslighting everyone.
After Julieta takes Mirabel to the kitchen and talks to her, Bruno finds her after and takes her to his room and tells her a little about his hunch that she is the key to open the next door.
Mirabel is confused, hopeful, still hurt, and nervous. Will you look? For me?
Oh, Mirabel. The only thing I want to see isā¦ wellā¦ Iāll try
Vision cave. Heās nervous.
He has the same vision as in the film. Make amends with your sister and weāll get through it. Itās a shame itās on you. He would carry her burden if he could, but all he can do is lift her up instead.
ā
Would she frighten at it, or be fascinated by his power? He filled his head with images of himself taking her by the hand and pressing her palms into the rough stone as he molded it with his will. The hair on her arms would raise. Or he could kneel behind her, hunker over her back, and plunge her hands into the sand with his and let her feel it fully. If he breathed in the salt on her skin, maybe tasted it, when he licked his lips in concentration, maybe he could read yer mind. Channel her. Let her work through him, works-based redemption,
In his anteroom, a little rat squeaked for his attention. Bruno knelt down and fed him a cracker from his pocket before petting down his back, considering.
Antonio would probably hear about his life in the walls. The rats meant well, and were very smart for little creatures, but they were no secret keepers.
By tomorrow Dolores would have a corroborating account. Someone to back up her claim if she felt the need to expose him. Bruno rose to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck.
ā
[Inserting scene: conversation with Dolores at the party.]
She didnāt linger near his conversations, though Bruno knew her attention was fixed on his appearance.
She appraised him, letting her suspicious expression linger as he took his seat by her side.
How do you know Iām not Camilo, trying to lure some information out of you.
ā¦ He never gets your xyz right.
There it was. As direct a confession as he could make that he knew them all far beyond what scraps of visions and glimpses into their lives could have given him. He never would have been able to hide his secret from her, but, apparently, for him to have almost owned up to it immediately, he seemed to have unseated her.
They locked eyes over their drinks, and Dolores let herself stare.
āYou didnāt come because of Antonio.ā
No.
So you had seen his gift, and decided to let us worry?
Are you gonna pretend you donāt know why Iām actually here?
Her gaze challenged him. Like youāre pretending to be something youāre not?
Whoās to say I never did leave? You were eleven, you had plenty of other things to worry about at the time.
Shocked eyes. Bruno pivoted, walking back his approach. He set his glass down and looked at her solemnly.
Iām sorry. Youāve only ever kept my secret. I know it was difficult to do that for me.
She looked at him coolly. I would just like to know why now, of all times, if not for Antonioās sake.
You know what they talk about. What it would have meant if Antonio - if what happened to Mirabel happened to him. Are you telling me youāre blind to the way Mirabel is -
So itās Mirabel? She asked, looking past him into the party, trying to pin her with her eyes.
Dolores, Iāve been mixing whole pallets of spackle by hand for months. If you dont want to talk about that
. . .
Still, he said, suddenly playfully petulant, sulky. You might have visited.
The boogeyman? She laughed incredulously, and Bruno stood with her, rolling his eyes. Besides, I know Iām not the one you wantedā¦ Your hair looks better like that, pulled backā¦ you could use more practice tying it up. . . . Itās like itās own little web of lies. One slip up and the whole thing crumbles. Donāt get stuck in your own sand trap.
Well if the house crumbles to dust itās not like anyone could catch me.
What if it does, and she asks you to take her away?
Bruno said nothing for a moment. If thatās what she wants. Thatās a bridge I suppose Iāll cross when I get there. It would be nice to not be alone this time.
I can hear it, you know. When you toss salt over your shoulder. She isnāt the only one who doesnāt know how to ask for help. OR She isnāt the only one who pours herself into this place. Something something we all sacrifice or I know you I see you you two are the perfect give and take match
What happened to that little girl you used to be
She grew up. Got used to certain disappointments.
Iām sorry about Mariano. Itās not like itās set in stone.
No. Just glass.
Perspective, Dolores. That vision was about you turning 21. Anything could happen
Glaciers might melt faster.
True. Not set in stone. They watch Isa and Mariano exchange forced conversation under their grandmotherās eyes. Chipped into ice, his motherās iron will.
Turns out talking about your sacrifices, communing with your family, can have positive effects on incredibly embittered souls.
ā
I believe you, my Mirabel. It pained him to see her so broken. Look. Iāll show you. He leads her into the walls.
How long have theseā¦ how long have you beenā¦?
Only a few months. His half-truth came in, as he scratched his neck awkwardly.
But youāve been gone. You came back?
Yes. I couldnāt - I knew. I knew they were happening. I wasnāt sure what else to do.
How did you know? You must have seen them. Show me.
Not now, my love. Iām begging you.
Did you leave because I disappointed you? because I failed - and - and nothing went right that night?
In his depression Bruno forgot that the vision changed and the house could be made whole.
ā
They make plans to help Mirabel make amends with Isa. Bruno watches fondly from a distance as they storm around the courtyard before they slip off into Isaās room for the actual closure/catalyst to occur.
In the meantime, Alma approaches Bruno and they have a brief flareup about the events last night and how Mirabel damaged the familyās appearance. He is again impressed by the idea that his mother will never, ever change. Before they can get too upset Isa and Mirabel are found experimenting with Isaās new powers and Alma redirects her rage to Mirabel again, and Mirabel stands up for herself this time armed with her new understanding of her sisters and Bruno and what the family does to appease her.
The house cracks, and the candle blows out, and Bruno helps Mirabel get the last boost up to the window ledge before theyre all covered in the fallout dust.
They both see Alma after and take a new look at the last of the candle, and then they back away from the family to the river together.
Mirabel is upset. Bruno is less so, mostly for her sake, and they talk about their options. Leave together, and put this behind them, or stay and try to build something better.
Alma arrives, and she and Mirabel have a heart to heart when Bruno gives them some space, maybe they see the butterfly still idk, and when Mirabel looks towards him and smiles Bruno thinks okay. Itās all going to be alright.
He gets a true apology from his mother, and he and Mirabel hold hands as they walk back to the village together.
Basic Pre-Game Player Prepā¦ Think about some of this stuff and then send my way so we can flesh out our game :D!
First, fill out a character sheet (simplified version or traditional, etc.etc.) and drop it in my dms or something so I can scale the encounters I guess.
Next, consider how your character would answer some questions about themselves and their place in canon. Feel free to share or keep these answers secret.
Here are some starter questions:
What does your character think of Alma? Bruno? The entire Madrigal family? In what way would they typically interact?
What does your character think about the Encanto, the magic, and the gifts the Madrigals receive?
How does your character feel about the world outside the Encanto?
What motivates your character? What are their long and short term goals?
You and your party have been called upon to investigate the frequent disappearances Bruno Madrigal has been undergoing every now and then in the months since casitaās reconstruction.
The Encanto has been experiencing a new golden age of fortune for the past few months. The Madrigal family has flourished after their reckoning and only come out strongerā¦ or so the village is led to believeā¦
Thereās a soft feeling of suspicion afoot, lurking implicit under certain conversations at the periphery of the village. If the candle could go out once, why should this one would last any longer? And not every villager is entirely happy about the return of one Bruno Madrigal. Rumor has it, his reascension to Alma Madrigalās right hand at the head of the family is not only premature, but ill-conceived... Some might even confess to have spotted the long-absent seer slipping away at night into the mountains, and none dare to guess at why.
Still, Alma Madrigal maintains things have never been better for the Encanto, and the family supports her fully. It just isnāt entirely a surprise when one night, under the cover of darkness, someone slipped this piece of paper under your doorā¦
[A slightly crumpled paper, smoothed over several times. It was penned in a hand that betrayed a typically steady wrist that was in this instance pressured to favor speed over elegance.]
I insist you join me for dinner tomorrow night. 7:00 P.M., behind casita on the northern side.
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Encanto D&D Simplified Player Rulebook. Adapted from SimpleDND.
Players will engage with one another, the Encanto environment, and various NPCs through roleplaying, exploration, and combat, to create a collaborative story together. To achieve this, weāll use one main game mechanic to govern our story: dice rolling.
Players will roll dice to impart an element of chance to their characterās actions and the events that unfold around them. The most useful dice for our purposes will be the d20, but some weapons may have special requirements. Online Dice Roller.
Depending on the characterās statistics and skills, a player may add or subtract certain bonuses or penalties to adjust the final outcome of their roll.
Additionally, players might be prompted to roll for several other reasons, such as:
- When encountering a Difficulty Check: players will tell the DM what they want to do, and how they want to accomplish it. Depending on the action, the DM will decide if the player has a chance to fail, and may make them roll a d20 to determine that outcome. The resulting number will be compared to the DC of the action and the attempt will then be resolved.
- When Engaging in Combat: After initiating combat, players and opponents/NPCs will roll to determine the order everyone will move in. On each playerās turn, they will select a target and roll 1d20 to attempt to hit. Depending on the armor class (AC) of the target, they will or will not hit. If they hit, they must roll the dice specified by their weapon to inflict damage.
- To Precipitate Certain Events: The DM may ask a player to roll a dice to resolve certain unseen events, such as perception checks, events that may or may not occur depending on chance, etc.
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Candle Kingdom is a small and often overlooked peninsula in the eastern reaches of the Land of Ooo, cut off from the mainland by the Mystery Mountainsā¦
Candle Kingdom is ruled by Candle Queen with an iron fist from behind a puppet oligarchy of her children, The Duchesses of The Candle Kingdom and the long-absent Duke. The subjects, the Candle People, are small and stupid and will die if they burn too hot.
To protect the Candle People, many years ago Queen Candle traded her heart for the Great Candle. Big as a castle, the Great Candle never burns out, and its wax runoff formed a lake cool enough for the Candle People to remake themselves without melting immediately.
Candle Queenās heart is buried at the bottom of the lake, and over the years as the candle burns and more wax floods the lake, her heart grows colder and less easy to recover.
Because of this separation, Candle Queen becomes colder and more evil with each passing year. Having forgotten about her heart entirely, she turns into a tyrant and makes plans to divert the wax runoff into a river to cleave Candle Kingdom from Ooo entirely.
The Duke and Duchesses of the Candle Kingdom donāt know what happened so they canāt help their mother. Every five years they partake in a Lighting Ceremony to make the flame of the Great Candle a little stronger, not realizing theyāve aided the melting and bury her heart deeper.
Fifty years ago the gift of sight was granted to the Duke by the strength of the heart to try and help its master and stop this awful plan, but Bruno was powerless on his own and left the kingdom to stall for time.
In the Dukeās absence the Great Candle has not melted for decades and the lake is cold. Most of the Candle People are naught but wicks burning with feeble strength. Cut off from her heart and now almost completely evil, the Candle Queen cannot undo her curse alone.
Lady Mirabelās inability to assist the lighting ceremony combined with the Dukeās disappearance has halted progress for the Final Melt that would bury Candle Queenās heart for good and let her change the runoff towards the Mystery Mountains.
Having enraged her grandmother, she fled and found the long-absent Duke, and together they formulate a plan.
Since they fell in love during their brief time together, the Duke and Lady trot onto the frozen wax lake and have a burning hot incest kiss so sexy and steamy they melt through the wax straight to the bottom and reclaim her heart and save the kingdom š the end
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Songs you do not want to hear on the radio when youāre trying to avoid popping one next to your niece.
Listen on Spotify OR try to find every song on the radio next time youāre out on a drive for the full experience.
From the Country Station: Brunoās habitual station. He usually flips between this one and the Classic Rock station most days.
Wilder Days, Morgan Wade: Age gap sex song. Bruno is sweating bullets just backing out of the driveway, off to a great start.
Best Thing Since Backroads, Jake Owens: Cute song that lets him relax a little, until Bruno realizes itās way too topical and he keeps looking at Mirabel more than the road.
From the Alt Rock Station: He turns this one on when Mirabel is in the truck. Kids still like indie stuff, right?
R U Mine?, Arctic Monkeys: Bruno is happy to hear a mild throwback, he thinks these guys were popular a few years ago but they werenāt really his jam. Hmm, itās pretty funā¦ He glances at Mirabel again and wonders if sheās thinking about the lyricsā¦
I Wanna Be Yours, Arctic Monkeys: Apparently he tuned into the end of a little three song segment. This one makes him uncomfortable. He sweats a little and maybe fiddles with his cigarettes to try and not relate so completely.
Sheās My Collar, Gorillaz: Bruno changes the station after the first mention of a āsecret lover.ā This one made him feel feverish.
From the Eclectic Pop Station: A safe-zone of sorts. This is the station that plays Christmas music right after Thanksgiving, so it must be wholesomeā¦
Like a Virgin, Madonna: He lands them on the station just before the first chorus and goes red immediately. Changes it instantly.
From the Classic Rock Station: His oldest friend. Surely the DJs at his local dad rock tower wonāt betray himā¦
Roadhouse Blues, The Doors: Theyāre finishing up the commercial break and for about one whole minute, Bruno thinks heās safe. He likes classic rock. Itās all in good fun and never quite as explicit ā oh, fuck.
~ Starbucks Interlude, Bruno turns the volume down while they order and doesnāt notice the song change while they wait ~
Whole Lotta Love, Led Zeppelin: He turns the volume up and almost does a spit-take. His fingers shake as he changes the station. He hopes Mirabel doesnāt notice, and that she doesnāt know any Led Zeppelin.
From the Eclectic Pop Station: Like A Virgin must be over nowā¦
Dangerous Woman, Ariana Grande: Bruno bites his tongue during this one. He isnāt sure how Mirabel feels about it but itās undeniably sexyā¦ bad girls underneath like thatā¦?
Woman, Doja Cat: This one is treacherous. Bruno can feel how easy it would be to dance to and he knows Mirabel is enjoying it; he sees her move to it a little out the corner of his eye. God, if she ever said anything like that to himā¦ Oh, fuck, oh fuckā¦
From the Top 40 Pop Station: Last chance. He canāt keep switching stations. Heāll just take whateverās on and be happy with itā¦
Need to Know, Doja Cat: Bruno changes the station one last time. Itās an immediate, complete, terrible mistake. Every line makes him sweat a little more. Mirabel is squirming next to him, not looking in his direction, and sheās starting to blush. Oh, god. She isnāt getting out of the car. Oh, god. Sheās sliding over to himā¦
Chapter 18 Alternate Ending One: Light fingering, braver and more handsy Bruno. Rejected because I want Bruno to hold himself back better.
They could see his house now, about half a mile away.
āAre you alright, Mirabel?ā He said, color rising as he reached to the dash between them and thumbed the air on. āI know itās hot in here, but weāll be home in a moment.ā
God, he was too much. The kindness, the attentive nature, the way he yearned to please her at every opportunity.
Mirabel snapped the AC off and set her coffee down in one of the cup holders. Bruno was angled towards her and looking at her with color still high on his face, darkening his eyes further where they fluttered down to her chest and the seam of her thighs, because his want for her bubbled up through the cracks in his chivalrous armor.
She couldnāt take it anymore.
Mirabel unbuckled herself and Bruno snapped his head straight to the windshield over the wheel. He clenched his hand around his coffee tighter and darted his eyes to her with knowing alarm, sweating now at the side of his face.
āMirabel.ā He said, his tongue working slowly over her name.
āJust park, tĆo.ā She pleaded, feeling like her body was moving on its own as she turned to face him and shifted into his space on the bench so she could press her nose into his hair. He was tense beside her but wanting, radiating heat and the fever of need. The smell of him, so close, his sweat, his hair, Mirabel made a desperate noise and shifted her button down off her shoulders.
Bruno cursed beside her, voice cracking and breaking. He fumbled his drink into a cup holder and switched hands on the wheel so he could touch her. His fingers bumped into her collar bones and then pushed back to catch under the straps of her bra and dress.
Mirabel slithered her hand across his flat stomach and followed the line of his seatbelt south so she could unbuckle him. Bruno stuttered his hand on the wheel and then they were home ā he made the turn up the driveway fast, practically throwing them out the window with his urgency.
As soon as he fumbled the gearstick to park Mirabel locked her hands around his neck and moved into him as he widened his thighs further and pulled her into his lap. He kissed her immediately, licking through her teeth to taste her sweetened saliva as his own bitter taste made her shiver and try to press closer. His foot was still on the break pedal and she heard it slip off and rush the gas so that the engine revved and he swore again, low, against her throat, as he grappled with the slippery fabric of her dress and hauled her further up his thigh.
Mirabel shuddered and gripped his collar, seeing stars. Straddling his thigh like that meant her cunt was laid out against him. The only thing keeping her from soaking his jeans was the thin material of her underwear.
It felt better than she had imagined. For a second she could only make a tight noise in her throat and squeeze her thighs around him.
She rocked against him, feeling a frenzied groan unstick itself from her throat as his firm thigh lit up her clit beneath her. Bruno made another low noise, against her neck, where her hair was damp with sweat before he gave in and licked her.
The flat and broad muscle of his tongue dripped hot against her skin, and he held her head still so he could taste her from the base of her throat to the space under her ear in one drag; wetting her, eating her, savoring her sweat. He dipped his head back down and sucked his own spit off at the bottom when he was done, breath hot and heavy and hands moving slow on her body as he shivered, processing her taste.
Mirabel found it hard to catch her breath. She felt true need ā sudden, aching, certain need ā seize her about the throat. She squeezed her thighs around his and closed her eyes against the sudden fantasy of his dark gaze staring up at her from between her legs.
āTĆo,ā she breathed, edging into a pathetic whine as she found his hands moving over her to rest against the small of her back and her hip, āTĆo, I need you ā I want, I ā Iāveā¦ā
Bruno it seemed had no energy to spare to startle at her aborted confession. His heat had not abated and his hips were canting into hers in a slow and abbreviated rhythm, as if he couldnāt help himself in keeping them moving, keeping that fever under their skin burning in a slow drive as he flexed his fingers into her.
āShh, Mariposa, donātā¦ donāt ask that of meā¦ā He mumbled as if from afar, crawling the fabric of her dress higher up her thigh into his fist, swallowing, watching as he exposed more of her skin to his eyes. He was fully hard and the denim of his jeans was starting to darken just at the tip where his cock was drooling for her.
āButā¦ā Mirabel sighed, writhing just a little against him, bumping her hips closer so she could feel him press into her. āIām ready, I want you to...ā
āIām not going to do that, Mirabel.ā He said, quietly, distantly. His hands were still working, still dragging her dress up, his gaze still focused between her hips and eye-fucking her so soundly he was making a liar out of himself already.
āTĆoā¦ā She whined, curling her fingers into his collar and squirming her hips. Bruno clutched at her harder and finally slipped his thumbs beneath the bottom hem of her dress and pushed it up above her panties entirely. His skin was dry and calloused, warm, and the press of his fingers against her intentional, and Mirabel shivered when he slid one thumb over to push into the bow in the middle of her panties just a few inches above where she needed him. āTĆo, pleaseā¦ā
āI canātā¦ Mariposa I shouldnāt even be doing this, donāt you understand?ā Bruno murmured quietly, plaintively, from the bottom of some unseen pool of desire for her that made her skin burn. Mirabel whined in frustration and ground her clit against his thigh again. He hissed a short breath out and shook his head through his guilt, then took the thumb off the bow and pushed it down to the edge of her panties.
He pulled them to the side, now closing his eyes as if he could save himself from the sin of seeing her. His blunt nail rasped over her skin and through the short and soft hair there, and Mirabel picked her hips up as he ran his thumb down the length of her panties to shift them entirely off her cunt, groaning when he passed over the slick mess in the center.
His knuckles brushed over her. Brunoās eyes fluttered open.
āYouāreā¦ā Bruno started, his throat working, licking his lips, āChristā¦ Youāre really wet, Mirabel.ā
āTĆo,ā she whined, clutching at his shoulders and letting him guide her hips back down over his thigh, āIāve been wet all morning.ā
That seemed to do him in. As he shivered, Bruno pulled her tight to his front and held her firmly against his thigh as he rolled his hips up under her.
Mirabel writhed against him, feeling her spine light up with the heavy and rough pressure between her legs stealing her breath away as she scrambled her hands over his shoulders and down his back. Bruno grunted and gave it to her slower, and when he reached down between them, and pressed his thumb against her clit to drag her to orgasm she gushed against him with her chest heaving until the sound of her sopping cunt making a mess of him could be heard above the engine.
Bruno flexed his other hand against her hip. The next time she was in tight against him he held her there, and he let out a quiet, bitten-back groan, and Mirabel felt her stomach flip as his cock twitched beneath her.
Breathing heavily, Bruno was slow to release her. Mirabelās limbs were like jelly when she pushed off his chest to breathe in more deeply, though the air in the cab smelled like nothing but pussy and sweat.
Bruno didnāt seem to mind. He took in a deep breath and shivered before licking his lips.
āT-thank you, tĆo.ā She whispered, wavering on his thigh again. Bruno shifted under her and Mirabel noticed with heat in her gut that he was still completely hard. āF-for breakfast.ā
āDonāt mention it, kid.ā He said quietly, meeting her eyes as he opened his door. Warm, fresh air flooded the cab, but there was something different in the dark of his eyes now as he waited patiently for her to marshal her strength and climb out of his lap to the ground and then fix her clothes.
She couldnāt look at him, or the mess they had made of his lap together, but Bruno didnāt seem too hurried to fix himself as he pulled his keys out and then reached for the bags she had left on her side of the truck.
He was careful to avoid touching her fingers as he passed them over, and he mumbled something about following her in a moment.
She turned from him swiftly and wobbled up the path to the door. The heat in his eyes was still the same. As was the guilt, the layers of restraint, the way he tried to hide his want. But those cracks in his armor were irreparable now.
He must be close to breaking, and the thought sent her heart fluttering.
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