So it’s pretty much canon that Bruno is Catholic, and I’ve been thinking a lot about it to be honest, just the mental image of a genuflecting Bruno with his eyes closed and praying is very wholesome to me
EDIT - it’s 3am again and I couldn’t sleep (insomnia sucks) so uh… I wrote something -
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The quiet unwavering comfort of faith.
Bruno genuflected before the wooden crucifix that hung on his wall, crossing himself as he knelt down slowly. Reaching under his ruana, he pulled out the simple rosary that hung around his neck. The same one that had hung there for forty five years. Carefully hoisting it over his head, he reverently brought it to his lips, then his forehead, then clasping his hands together he bowed his head in the peaceful silence of his room, and began to pray.
His lips moved soundlessly as he prayed, his brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes closed to the rest of the world as he gave singular focus to his faith. Bruno prayed for many things. Prominent among them was, of course, his family. He prayed for their continued health, happiness and fulfilment. That they always knew the feeling of being loved and cherished and whole. He prayed for the townsfolk, that they found the courage and wisdom to navigate life’s trials.
For himself, he prayed rarely. When he did, he prayed for strength. Strength to endure his visions and their painful after-effects, strength to shoulder his burden with virtue and grace. Strength to simply continue on the path he had been given.
Sometimes his prayers were answered. Sometimes not. Yet his faith never wavered. It was a comfort to him, one that he clung to in dark days and even darker nights.
His prayers complete, Bruno crossed himself again, relishing the serene calm that flooded his entire body, relaxing his aching muscles and soothing his mind. The quiet unwavering comfort of faith he held dear to him, and while he knew his life as a seer was never easy, at least he had something in his life that was always there for him.
He’d lingered there, knowing exactly where he was. Knowing exactly what kind of decision lay in front of him. Knowing exactly the events that had transpired that led him to be there. He was a seer after all. He wanted to stay… but staying meant death, and he didn’t know if he was ready to die. He longed to be free of pain and suffering, but he also wanted his family. He wanted his sisters. He wanted his Mamá. All things considered, it was the hardest decision of his life…
Mirabel took it upon herself to watch over her Tío Bruno as he slept feverishly. She helped her Mamá keep him cool - carefully placing damp cloths on his forehead, making sure his hair was out of his face, keeping watch for any change in his unconscious state.
Bruno’s rats made a habit of gathering together, chattering excitedly at the foot of his bed. Some ventured onto the bed itself, but were quickly called back by the leader of the little group. Mirabel had asked Antonio to make sure to keep them fed and looked after. She wanted them all to be safe and well to greet her Tío when he woke up. Her little Antonio was only too pleased to help, a strange look clouding his eyes as he agreed enthusiastically to her request. But Mirabel couldn’t think about what was up with her little primo right now. All that mattered was that she was there when her Tío woke up. When he woke up…
Judging by the amazing response to my first set I thought you’d like some more so who’s ready for round 2
Have some more low quality shots of this anxious middle aged rat man because I just reallycannot get enough
First up is the only scene we get just Abuela and her hijo before he disappeared, this tiny scene is just so gorgeously lit but what I love most about it is Bruno’s expressions Our boy manages to convey concern, fear, sympathy and resignation all in one and that narrowing of the eyes thing he does
It’s fine Bruno, I’m fine. This is fine
Not only have I watched him fall and get up a hundred times cause it’s just so damn hilarious but FGHJLDKGF I love what his hair is doing in this shot #hairgoalsevenwhenmessyitstilllookslit
He’s literally just met his little nephew for the very first time and he just starts casually talking to Bruno like he’s known him all his life I mean what must be going through Bruno’s head in this moment can you imagine I have a lot of feelings about this one I mean I have a lot of feelings about this whole movie in general but
Antonio’s room is incredible but also the lighting of this beautiful shot omg someone give the artists an oscar or something for this also Bruno do you have to look so aesthetically pleasing you’re a fictional character dammit
Why do I find his serious concentration face so angsty omg I love it so much
His nervous little wave right before his sisters attack hug him his nervous little wave right before his sisters attack hug him tho
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh ❤️❤️❤️
Just look at this soft AF look he gives Mirabel lookit his lil smile and his soft eyes JUST LOOK AT IIIIIITTTTT
BONUS SHOT
He actually looks happy to see the townspeople coming to help them which is surprising in itself but also he’s trying to lean over Luisa so he can see them better and just look at the lil hopeful smile on his face*screams*
How did I get here having all these emotions about a fictional character all I know is he has to be protected at all costs and he deserves the world ok I’m gonna go cry now
Screenshots taken and edited by me please don’t steal them!
EDIT - soooo… Lin couldn’t bring himself to say one kind thing about John Leguizamo’s performance as Bruno? He showered everyone else with compliments and while we were watching Bruno’s scenes he was trying to distract us by tweeting photos from his Colombia trip…? I’m… a little sad and disappointed about that…
Have some low quality shots of this anxious middle aged rat man because I just cannot get enough
First up we have this one he’s just looking at his Mamá all watching her just walk straight past him just look at his face godammit it’s literally this emoji
Then this one which is so much worse just look at this sad little man and he’s doing that nervous thing with his hands and he just looks so sadand hurt SOMEONE GIVE HIM A HUG ITS ME I’LL GIVE HIM A HUG GODAMMIT
The man is ANGRY
Look at him being all defiant and brave with his hands on his hips even though he’s literally nearly doing the splits and looks ridiculous and probably knows it too I love this man so much
This one though probably the look that breaks my heart the most cause just look at him, look at how nervous and scared he is looking at his Mamá he looks as if he’s about to burst into damn tears how can animation convey so much emotion I mean dear god rip out my heart why don’t you
He goes down on one knee as he’s apologising to Pepa hegoes down on one knee as he’s apologising to Pepa
So this man has just been living in the walls for a decade without any human interaction and one of the first things he does upon rejoining his family is offer Pepa his hand and she takes it without a second thought cause he’s her brother and she’s missed him dearly I have a lot of emotions about this one
And finally, the smile I mean do I really have to say any words this whole scene is literally just pure serotonin and I’m drowning in my feels for this cute ass family ❤️
Screenshots taken and edited by me please don’t steal them!
CHAPTER 4 OF TRAPPED ON Ao3 NOW!! Here’s a preview…
Mirabel opened her eyes just in time to see the swirling tornado collapse to the ground, sand and debris flying everywhere at the sheer force of it. But the tornado wasn’t the only thing collapsing. She caught her Tío just before he hit the ground, cradling his unconscious body protectively in her arms as she shouted with all her might for the one person who would definitely hear her - Dolores. It was then that Mirabel noticed the blood trickling down from Bruno’s ears and nose, making tiny red rivulets down his face and dripping onto her shaking hand. She remembered what her Tío had told her. “Don’t be scared Mirabel, don’t be scared, don’t be scared” she repeated to herself, over and over. But she was a fifteen year old kid holding her unconscious Tío in her arms, and there was blood… a lot of blood. She was scared. Bruno, still unconscious, let out a soft gasp, followed by a longer pained moan. “Shh, It’s okay Tío Bruno, you’re okay now, I got you” she sniffed, unable to stop her tears falling onto his lax and unresponsive face as it rested just above her wildly beating heart. Where was Dolores? She was taking too long! Mirabel was just about to scream for her again when a wide eyed Dolores burst through the door as Bruno simultaneously let out another louder moan of pain. Mirabel’s fear skyrocketed. “Get Mamá, Dolores! Get Julieta!” She cried, grateful that her prima didn’t ask any questions before hurriedly running back down the stairs. Mirabel looked down at her Tío as he started to tremble. She manoeuvred her arm to hold him steadier, hugging Bruno against her as she felt his whole body start to shake…..
The aftermath of Mirabel’s disastrous birthday celebration. Julieta is a mess and still has to heal her own wound. 1248 words.
Warning: pain, suffering, demon-inflicted wound.
…
If Alma were to listen to her motherly instincts, she’d have brought her daughter a bottle of the strongest tequila. Unfortunately, their circumstances did not allow for this simple mercy. Julieta’s wound needed healing sooner rather than later. Thus, Julieta had to maintain a clear mind. For this reason, when Alma entered her daughter’s bedroom, she was holding a cup of yerba mate.
Julieta was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back resting against her bed. She looked completely exhausted, with blood-shot eyes and trembling lips. Her husband Agustín was sitting next to her, concern painted on his face. Between them stood a bowl of water – cold, Alma assumed, for cooling down the wound. She observed that Julieta’s right sleeve had been cut off, exposing the blistered forearm. The ugly, red reminder of the battle they had fought.
She had used all her energy to save Pedro. There was too little of it left to ease her own suffering.
Without a word, Alma handed her daughter the cup. Julieta accepted it with resignation and begun to sip the liquid. She wasn’t a fan of yerba mate – the taste wasn’t to her liking. Still, she drank it all her life for its nutritious properties. Whenever she needed an energy boost, this was what she turned to. Fuel didn’t have to taste good. Still, seeing how reluctantly Julieta consumed it, Alma felt her heart break over and over again.
A couple of sips later, Julieta tried to speak. “How is papá?”
“Asleep,” said Alma.
“And the children?”
“Pepa and Félix have them all in Isabela and Dolores’ bedroom.” She hesitated before continuing. “Mirabel is with Bruno. In his room.”
Mirabel. Julieta’s youngest child. The one who got possessed by the demon. In a turn of events so shocking and earth-shattering they never would have thought possible. How did it happen and why, none of them knew. The pain was so fresh, so unfair, so gut-wrenching. Even more so for Julieta, who still bore the horrible marking on her own limb.
Hearing her daughter’s name, Julieta deflated even more. Her jaws tightened and new moisture glimmered in her eyes. She had failed to protect her child. She had been so helpless. She just got herself wounded and her other children had to watch it happen.
Realizing what was going on in her daughter’s mind, Alma tried to distract her. “Is there anything you need? Anything to eat or drink?”
Julieta denied with a slight motion of her head.
“Are you going to be able to heal yourself?” Alma continued gently.
Julieta took a moment to swallow. “Not entirely,” she whispered in a strained voice. “Not right away,” she paused, running her eyes over the massacred forearm. The sight was discouraging. So much tissue to fix. So many blood vessels. So many nerves. The wounded woman shut her eyes, unable to take it all in. “I have to start, at least. It can’t wait any longer,” she almost wailed.
Alma nodded in grim acknowledgement. “Do you need Pepa? Or Bruno?”
The Madrigal triplets had a special bond that allowed them to borrow one another’s spiritual energy. Considering Julieta’s state, she could use a donor or two. The person of interest seemed to acknowledge this fact. “Get Bruno,” she requested.
Thus Alma went to get Bruno.
Julieta returned to sipping yerba mate.
Agustín placed his hand on his wife’s lap in a gesture of reassurance. He hated that there was nothing he could do to help her. He hated that she’ll have to endure excruciating pain, on top of everything she’d gone through already. She could numb herself a little bit, perhaps, but not entirely. She had to know which tissues to stimulate and how intensively. Therefore, she had to feel her body’s reactions. Words couldn’t describe the injustice of this situation. Nor make it any easier to endure for Julieta. Literally, the only thing Agustín could do was to be there for her.
At least in this respect, he wouldn’t disappoint.
“Once this is over,” he whispered softly, “you will be free to cry yourself to sleep in my arms. I am going to hold you and I am going to rub your back. For as long as you need, I am going to hold you.”
Julieta’s eyes were welling up, but the faintest smile pulled at her lips. That smile told Agustín everything he needed to know. His wife was looking forward to the services he promised her. She was going to need them, and badly so, once the ordeal is over.
He was bent on staying with her for every frightening second.
(…)
Some preparations had to be made beforehand. The bowl of cold water was displaced in favor of a stool. Agustín had to move to Julieta’s other side, so that Bruno could perform his duty as her donor. Spiritual energy was transmitted through physical touch. Bruno assumed he’d hold his hand on Julieta’s shoulder, but his sister explained he’d have to hold her arm in place. For one thing, she needed to receive his donation as close to the affected area as possible. Also, more importantly, she wouldn’t have enough self-control to stay still. Bruno obeyed, even thought acting as a human vice to his sister’s exposed, sensitive flesh was making his skin crawl. He did not want to cause her pain. Goodness gracious, she winced when he touched her.
‘Get a grip,’ he told himself. ‘You’ve no right to complain. She’s the one suffering.’
Out loud, he said: “Drain me as much as you need to.”
She gave him the faintest nod.
Alma found it fitting to ask one last question. “Is there anything else you need?”
Julieta hesitated. “A piece of leather.”
The item was provided to her with the aura of guilt.
Julieta put it into her mouth. She closed her eyes. Took a couple calming breaths. Finally, she lifted her healthy hand and bent the ring and pinky finger in a gesture that aided her concentration.
Right away Bruno was forced to tighten his grip on her arm, as she tried to jerk it away. Blue glow covered the affected limb. Julieta’s jaw clenched and sweat beads sprung from her skin. Bruno pushed away unwanted thought and focused on channeling his energy. Green glow poured from his hands onto Julieta’s forearm. Blisters bulged and exploded with a hiss. Scent of burning flesh assaulted nostrils. Julieta bit down hard on the leather. Swelling smoothed down. Red receded in favor of pink, pink receded in favor of white. Bruno held on relentlessly as Julieta’s fingers stretched and bent. Alma and Agustín watched with hearts in their throats. Julieta’s veins pulsed, sweat stained her clothes. The leather in her mouth crinkled.
Finally, the glow died out. Julieta spat out the leather and panted heavily. Bruno let go of her arm. The ugly wound was replaced with an extensive scar. It had rough edges and an uneven surface. It wasn’t the ideal outcome, but it would have to do.
Agustín knelt by his wife and kissed her temple. “You did great, querida.”
Alma handed her a cup. This one contained poppy milk. Julieta drank it greedily. It was over. She closed the wound. She made sure it wouldn’t fester. Tears of exhaustion and relief flowed freely from her eyes.
Alma and Bruno discreetly exited the room, knowing they were leaving their daughter and sister in the most competent hands.
That, and their tasks for the night weren’t completed.
The town isn’t concerned about Bruno being back and giving them bad visions, the town is concerned about Bruno and Pepa being back to being a chaotic desaster partners in crime sibling duo.
