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#c rose2081
sayorseee · 2 years
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Mob AU (a prompt for when you feel better :) :
Addison’s always taken care of herself. So when she gets sick, and Zed wants to help, she wants NONE of it. Unfortunately, this just results in a very sick and crabby Addison, and an equally determined Zed who wants nothing more then to coddle her until she’s better.
Let Me Love You, a mob au side story (ao3) (ff.net)
warning: this short contains spoilers for Kings, Queens, and the Pawns In Between
PART 1 of 3
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Addison Jacobs lays in a curled up ball between two chairs in the employee break room. She's pretty sure she still has twenty minutes before she needs to be up to be cheery, peppy, friendly Addy, instead of the Addy that went to bed a little congested and woke up feeling like she had a love affair with death and was suffering the consequences. 
The back door opens and she feels the heat of sunlight burning against her face. Addison groans, tucking her face into the chair. 
From a few feet away, she hears her manager and close friend, Eliza, ask, “Um, what's wrong with her?” 
Her coworker and other close friend, Wyatt, answers with, “She's sick, but if you ask her–” 
“I'm fine,” Addison grumbles. 
She sits up, her head wavering with a wave of lightheadedness and nausea that she barely managed to ignore. But still, she puts on her best game face. “Just a little tired.” She scrubs a hand over her face to cover up a sniffle. 
“You are definitely sick,” Eliza says. 
“I've been trying to tell her to go home!” 
“I'm fine,” Addison reiterates. 
Wyatt throws his hands up, frustrated. “You look like crap!” Addison simply rolls her eyes; they've been going back and forth like this since she got there, but she didn't plan on admitting she was too sick to be at work. 
Eliza grumbles loudly and Addison looks over, watching her angrily typing on her phone. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I'm getting Willa to come in early. And letting Zed know you refuse to go home and get better.” 
“What!” 
“You won't listen to us!” 
“Zed is not my keeper, and I'm fine!” Addison argues. “I'll just bus tables all day if I have to, but you can’t make me go home.” 
“Addison –” 
She growls, actually, physically growls, startling both Eliza and Wyatt. “I feel fine. Trust me, okay?” She starts for the door to the main dining room, intent on working through her opening procedures (or lying down in one of the booths while Eliza and Wyatt aren't looking), but stops and turns back to them with one final thought. “And don't. Tell. Zed.” 
~
In Addison's defense, the diner was slow, and Eliza was strict in her duties for today: bussing tables, and only bussing tables. If Addison even so dated as to cough near a patron, she was done. 
But Addison wasn't that sick. Sure, the king she stood the more her head would pound, and the tightness in her chest continued to get worse. But she chugged a bottle of DayQuil this morning, and even sat down in one of the empty booths while the diner was slow to calm her racing heart. 
Which brings her to now: being shaken away by her boyfriend, Zed Necrodopolis. Seabrook's most infamous character, heir to the Necrodopolis family fortune and the mob throne. And the one person Addison didn't want finding out about her little ‘lapse' in health. 
“C’mon, Addy, get up,” Zed grumbles, tugging on her arm and pulling her up into a seated position. 
“I was just…resting my eyes,” she rasps. 
“Mhm, sure you were.” 
Addison just rubs the sleep from her already aching eyes. She has no idea how long she was out for, but she really needs to get back to work. Unfortunately, Zed sits down next to her, boxing her into the booth. 
“Zed, I'm working,” she whines. 
He raises an eyebrow at her. “You were knocked out a second ago.” She rolls her eyes in response. “And, no offense, baby, but you look like crap.” 
“I thought you loved me no matter how I look?” She tries to sound flirty and teasing, but with her sore throat it just sounds pathetic. 
Still, Zed chuckles. He nudged her shoulder playfully, despite her grumpiness. “I'm just worried about you. Eliza says you're refusing to take the day off.” 
“I told her not to tell you,” she mumbles. 
“Well technically, Willa told me.” Zed leans over, showing her his phone with his texts to Willa, starting with a picture of her, passed out in the booth. 
“Oh…” 
“Yeah.” He repockets his phone. “Do you wanna tell me what's going on? Why you don't wanna go home?” 
Addison frowns. Instead of answering, she leans into his side, hiding away from the world. Zed reached over with his other hand to stroke her hair. “Come on, babe, let me take you home. You can rest up and get back to work as soon as you feel better.” 
“I can’t,” she mumbles. 
He turns his head, and although she can't see him she can picture his face: his big, brown, caring eyes, staring into her soul, prodding her to open up to him. 
She sighs and lifts her head. “It's the twenty-ninth,” she says quietly. “And…I'm still short.” 
His expression shifts, a deep frown filling his gestures. “Addy…” 
“I can pay my own rent, Zed.” 
“But at the expense of your health?” he counters. She clamps up and he continues, “Number one, you spend more time at my place than your own home. And you know you can always ask me for help, no matter how big or small the ask.” 
“But…” 
He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say before she can say it. “Addy, you know I don't think that. And I don't care what other people think. I know you love me, and I love you. And I'm always around to help you. Even if it's as simple as reminding your stubborn self that you should not be working customer service when you’re this sick. I mean, people will complain.” 
Addison giggles, which quickly turns into a fit of congested coughs. Zed pays her back until she claims her breathing down enough to return to her normal, sickly labored breathing. 
Okay, maybe she should go home. 
“Come on,” Zed says as he slides out of the booth, “I'll take you home. Make you my mom’s famous chicken noodle soup.” 
“You mean the soup we have here.” 
Zed holds out a hand which she graciously takes, letting him pull her up to her feet. 
“Well I make it better 'cause I'm a Necrodopolis. We add a little extra love.” He even kisses her temple, then walks her to the break room in the diner. 
Addison slides into a chair at the break room table, the same table she'd been laying at that morning when Eliza first found her, and put her head down while Zed went into Eliza's office. She didn't know what he planned on telling her, and frankly, she didn't care. With every passing second, her head grew heavier and heavier. 
She vaguely remembers Zed coming back out and taking her outside to his waiting car, but everything after that ends up as a blur.
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intothetlkverse · 2 years
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So I was inspired by tumblr user c-rose2081 and their incredible Tainted Miracle Encanto AU and version of Bruno so much so that I was inspired to make my own one-shot TLK2 AU where Nuka is the golden child and his siblings suffer for it. Thanks for the inspiration, I love your work!
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pxresoxl · 2 years
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Thank you sm for golden Isabela 🥹 I missed her!
Of course! 🥺❤️ I’m really glad you really like them!
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Audrey D3 redesign - 'Good' outfit
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since i gave her queen of mean design a 2024 redesign, felt i should give her 'good' look a 2024 redesign as well
2020 Ver
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@c-rose2081 heres ur girl
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dani-luminae · 1 month
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Commissioned @c-rose2081 for a dragon and behold!!!!!!!
Yes of course Aria gets a dragon form. She can basically do whatever Maleficent can, and that includes *triumphant fanfare* a dragon!!!!!
Aria breathes lightning instead of fire - more focused and also white-hot, good because she's a protector instead of a menace like Maleficent is. She's also wickedly fast on her feet and in the air; light reflects off of her and can make her difficult to see. Her tail and wings are incredibly flexible and the sharp barbs atop her wings have some degree of movement independent of the rest of the wings (the ones on the end of her tail don't get the same kind of movement.) She has opposable thumbs but hasn't so far found much use for them because usually it's easier to just turn back into a human to hold stuff.
And cause she's a dramatic dork, in her usual human Queen form, the shape of her dragon face is stylized into her crown:
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Also should go without saying but DO NOT REPOST.
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piratecore-art · 1 month
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@c-rose2081 for your dragon au! Not thrilled with it, honestly I bit off more than I could chew lol. But here it is yay
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hannahhook7744 · 2 months
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16. Least favorite ship ?
Canon Chad and Audrey on their own.
It just seems really toxic.
Though I do like some fanon interruptions like @c-rose2081 because their art and little takes on them are A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E.
Also Canon Bal where all of the red flags are ignored.
JUST GO TO THERAPY, ALL OF YOU DESCENDANTS KIDS. PLS.
Thx for the ask.
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naensut · 2 years
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Mirabel giving grief to her tío. As a kid she would make secret trips to the village on her own. When Bruno finds out he gives her a stern talking to. I always imagined Bruno a bit more serious and authoritative in this AU. Life has hardened him and he’s seen some shit. Sorry if the dialogue placement is a bit confusing.
@c-rose2081 and me are no longer developing this au. I just make arts for the stuff that we already discussed. If someone wants to write a story about this go right ahead and tag me so I can read it.
 Also, I had to pull my last post back to adjust the image before posting it. So if you interacted with my last post and I didn’t see you comment/like/reblog, I apologize. Tumblr always changes the colour of the image depending on the device. 
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aurorarose2081 · 8 months
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So...this happened...
Thank you to everyone who has expressed condolences over my old blog and offered up support ❤️ glad to see this place hasn’t completely gone up in flames. This won't reach anyone who cares. But this is c-rose2081 and Tumblr just terminated my original blog without cause and without warning. I've already contacted support, but I feel imbittered towards this stupid site.
If I get my account back great, if not, whatever, I guess. I'm really feeling upset as it's taken years to create that blog. I cherished it, and now it's entirely gone. Any original writing or sketches, art from friends, chats, personal thoughts...everything gone. I may not even want to come back after this. I refuse to let this hellsite dampen my need for constant attention :3 I will not die because of this, therefore I’m starting up a new blog which may or may not become my new main. Tumblr cares so little about literal sex bots with porn content but will delete a well-used and followed blog without bothering to check?
Fuck this place bro.
@descendantofthesparrow , @sayorseee if you could help spread the word that would be awesome.
I'm so fucking tired now.
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ssuzu · 7 months
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commissions for @c-rose2081 💛🖤
✨ my sketch commissions are open! ✨
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sayorseee · 2 years
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Mob AU: What is the most expensive thing Zed has ever gotten Addison as a gift? And how did she react to it? :3
luxury
a mob au side story.
Three times Zed gifts Addison expensive, outrageous, heart-felt gifts. 
ao3 | ff.net
One.
Addison Jacobs wakes up to soft kisses to match the stray, soft beams of sun creeping in through her window. She smiles at the affection, slowly opening her eyes and craning her head to look at her loving, caring, and slightly morally questionable boyfriend: Zed Necrodopolis.
His arms tighten around her bare middle, drawing her in closer to his own body. She giggles while his lips trail over her cheek, down to her jaw, then up until he reaches her earlobe. "Mm, morning, Addy," he whispers, his voice a quiet rasp that makes her shudder. He presses a kiss just below her ear, adding, "Happy not-birthday."
Addison giggles again. Her not-birthday, as she and Bree had graciously dubbed the day two years ago on the first celebration, always happened a little over a month after her actual birthday. Every not-birthday celebration was filled with as many activities as they could cram in to celebrate another year while keeping Addison distracted from the thought of celebrating another year without her brother.
Zed understood immediately the first time she explained it to him and sent three entire days with her and Bree planning the day out. As much as she enjoys his affections, she turns in his arms, her mind already racing with all the plans they had today. None of which involved an early morning roll in the sheets, unfortunately.
"Morning!" she says, pecking his lips. "What time is it? I think one of my nonnegotiable not-birthday requests was a certain someone making me breakfast in nothing but–"
"My boxers and an apron, I remember," Zed finishes with a chuckle. "I just wanted to soak up some morning cuddles before the big day."
Addison hums. "We can cuddle any day! We have so much to do!" She practically bounces out of bed, walking over and grabbing a spare tee shirt from the drawers. "I'm gonna go start getting ready which means I expect a yummy breakfast, mister!"
She turns back, seeing Zed sitting up in bed now, a grin on his face. "I thought I was the boss around here?" he teases.
"You run the mob." She walks back over to the bed, climbing onto his lap quickly. "I, on the other hand, run things around here. Especially in the bedroom."
Zed cocks an eyebrow. In an instant, he has her on her back, her hands held high above her head in one of his. Her breath catches in her throat, her heart picking up as she stares into his dark eyes.
"Is that so?"
"Mhm." She swallows thickly. "Unless you wanna challenge that?"
(They make time for an early morning roll through the sheets, cutting out a big, fancy breakfast for a simple omelette.)
They quickly eat breakfast, then get dressed for their day out, Addison in a simple pale blue sundress that compliments her white hair nicely, while Zed dresses down in a pair of slacks and a button down, sleeves rolled to his elbows just the way Addison likes. It is her day, after all.
They stand in the foyer, Zed scanning over the key box, waiting to pick out which car they'll take out today. One of the perks of dating a mob boss, really. A different car, depending on the adventure. "What's our first stop again?" Zed asks.
"We're going to pick apples and peaches for the diner," Addison says.
He nods along. "Should we take the rolls? Or maybe the mustang?" He glances at her, then grins. "Ah! I know, we can take your Benz!"
She stares at him for a moment, completely confused, until it hits her. She hasn't had a car since hers broke down days before she met him, which means he bought her a car. More specifically, he bought her a Mercedes.
"What?!" she shrieks. She can't figure out if she's more excited than shocked.
He nods, tossing her a set of keys that she fumbled to catch. "Yeah! It's outside right now if you wanna go check it out!"
"Yes! Yes! Come on!"
She runs, her sandals slapping against the floor with each excited stride. Zed follows quickly behind. By the time he stops outside of her car, she's already throwing herself into his arms, squealing. He laughs, picking her up off the ground to better support her embrace.
"Omg, omg! Thank you!" She kisses him, smiling too hard to actually get any further, not that either of them mind. She pulls back and he sets her down, though he keeps his arms around her, holding her close. "This is – I don't even know what to say! I-I love it, Zed."
"I love you," he counters. "Although I will miss driving you everywhere." She giggles, standing on her toes to kiss him again. "Happy not-birthday, baby."
Two.
Zed travels a lot. Sometimes, his travels are work-related, but the majority of the time he just leaves. Ever since he and Addison hit their four month anniversary, it became known that she would always travel with him. Despite her having her own bodyguard now, they both felt more comfortable with her going with him than being separated. They had enough kidnapping scares for one lifetime.
This time, they've landed in Paris, France. They flew first class for this trip instead of taking Zed's family jet, like they usually do. Neither of them mind, watching movies, napping, and drinking complimentary wine since Zed has a lot of pull with the airline.
Addison spends much of the trip in her hotel room while Zed is out on business. When he's not, they explore the city of romance, walking hand in hand through the streets, checking out all the historic sites.
On their last day, they browse the shops along the Rue Saint Honoré – for the third time that trip. Addison loves looking in the shops and trying on the clothes, but always refused to buy more than she could afford, despite Zed assuring her that he wanted to pay.
But today would be different. He had a plan.
The first store they head into is a shoe store. Addison instantly floats to a pair of silver heeled boots on display in the window. She practically drools over them.
"You should try them on," Zed suggests.
Addison inspects them, her smile wavering. "They're nearly two grand!"
"We're on vacation, in Paris," Zed points out. He steps closer to her, wrapping his arms around her middle. She melts into his embrace, just like she always did. "More specifically, you are on vacation, in Paris, with your super rich boyfriend. Who wants nothing more than to spoil you everyday of your life."
"B-but…"
He presses his lips to her neck, making her shudder and lose her train of thought.
"Just one pair, huh?" Zed asks.
She nods slowly. "J-just one."
They get back to their hotel that night with six new pairs of shoes.
When they get back to Seabrook, Zed revamps their home, taking out a walk in the empty bedroom next to theirs and building her her own shoe closet.
Three.
Zed works from home more often than not. Except, apparently, on the day of his and Addison's one year anniversary, where he leaves before he wakes up with a promise of taking her out someone special that night at eight.
And…he's late.
Granted, it's only ten minutes. But Zed was never late.
She isn't worried because she already texted Bonzo, Zed's main security detail as well as Addison's best friend's fiancé, and Bonzo assured her that he was fine and caught up downtown.
She sits in the living room, dressed in a silky pink dress with matching pumps, completely ready for a night out. And he's late. He didn't even text her, which is the worst part!
Something had to be wrong for him to be late – now twelve whole minutes. If not with him or work, then, well, with her. That was the only logical next step. Zed never showed up late, and if he ever thought he might, he always let her know first. He's just never late!
Across the house, the front door slams shut, followed by the rapid footfalls that she knows only belong to Zed.
Addison stands, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning. She has to physically push down her worry; he deserves a chewing out, at least a little bit. He was late, without a single call or text! What if something bad happened, what would she have done?
Zed comes running into the room out of breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know I'm late and I know I forgot to text you–"
"Yeah!" she exclaims. "You're lucky Bonzo texted me back, otherwise I would be actually worried sick!"
"I know, I'm sorry." He lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "I had to go grab your present and the jeweler was giving me so much shit – but, I'm sorry again."
She continues to frown, but relaxes her arms at the sight of his furrowed brows and big, brown eyes. She can't stay mad at him, not when he looks so cute when he's apologetic. Plus, you know, he mentioned jewelry, which is pretty much the only gift he's never given her. He bought her a car before he bought her a simple pair of earrings, for Pete's sake! She's intrigued.
"It's okay, I just get worried when I don't hear from you," she says. "What if something bad were to happen?"
"I get it, I'd be a little upset too, Addy," he says. He closes the space between them, wrapping her up in his arms. "Happy anniversary, baby. Sorry for worrying you."
His lips ghost across her forehead and she sighs into his embrace. She lifts her head and smiles. "Do we have reservations or do you have something mischievous up your sleeves?" she asks.
Zed grins, and it's obvious what his answer will be. "Both, of course," he says. "But we don't need to be at the restaurants until later, and I got you a little something special."
He steps back, pulling a small black bag from behind his back.
"I know it's jewelry, Zed."
"Yeah, I kinda fumbled the bag on that one." He shrugs, then holds it out to her. "Happy anniversary, baby."
She grins, graciously taking the bag from him. "I got you something too!" She turns, grabbing the large gift bag hidden behind the couch. She's had it hidden there for days and he never noticed! "Happy anniversary, Zed. I hope you like it."
Zed's smile breaks into a wider grin. "You didn't have to get me anything."
"Just open it!"
He tears through the tissue paper like a kid on Christmas, then carefully pulls out the large picture frame. His eyes scan over the photo inside – a blown up picture of the two of them on their first vacation to his Seabrook beach house almost a full year ago. She took it while he was in the middle of giving her a piggyback ride, both of them laughing in the photo.
"To my favorite trustfund baby," Zed reads with a smile. "Everyday has been an adventure, even when we do nothing but lay in bed all day. Here's to another lifetime of adventures. Love, Addy." He looks up at her, his eyes shining. "Oh my god, Addy, this is – I love it."
"R-really?" She had been worried at first when she went with such a sentimental gift. After all, Zed bought her thousand dollar shoes four months into their relationship, and that's not even the most expensive, luxurious, outrageous thing he's gifted her!
Zed nods. "This is the best thing anyone has ever given me," he says earnestly. He carefully places it on the side table, then steps forward, cradles her jaw, kisses her, short and sweet. "I love you, Addy."
"I love you too," she says. "Can I open my gift now?"
He nods. "Yeah."
Addison opens the small bag, finding a small black box inside. She shakes open the box, revealing a small folder note covering the gems on the studded chain. She giggles, flipping the note open. "To Addy. A one in a million necklace for a one in a million girl. Love, Zed." She looks up at him and exclaims, "Aw!" before she realizes exactly what it says.
"Wait, a one in a million–" She looks back at the box, down at a diamond studded necklace with a simple charm of an 'A' and a 'Z' intertwining. "O-oh my god. This is…it's beautiful."
She looks up at Zed, feeling her eyes water at the sight. It's beyond beautiful, and it doesn't even jarr her that it's apparently one in a million. It's them, A and Z, together forever.
She throws her arms around his neck, kissing him hard. He laughs but kisses her back, gripping her hair at the base of her neck.
"I love you," he murmurs against her lips.
Addison hums her agreement. She pulls her lips back, breathing heavily. "When are our reservations again?" she asks quietly.
"Nine," he breathes.
"Good."
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c-rose2081 · 10 months
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Commission Sheet
Made a simple lil commission sheet for myself :3
Headshots: $25
Half-body: $35
Full-body: $45
Scenes: $50+ (by request only)
Simple Style (by request only)
I like to draw:
- OC’s (human, pony, some-anthro, some furry)
- Fan Art (fandom dependent)
- Ship Art (complexity dependent)
- Backgrounds (complexity dependent)
I WILL NOT DRAW:
- NSFW/Fetish
- Mechs/Robots
- Political/Satirical
- Commercial Art (everything is for personal use only and will have my non-removable signature on it)
My commissions are almost always quietly open? I don’t really advertise them much, so just shoot me a DM here on tumblr, or on my Instagram @ c-rose2081 if you’re interested :)
Turnaround time is 1-2 weeks or less unless otherwise stated. Everything is fully rendered with a colored shape background, I don’t do flats or line-only.
Payment is up front through my Ko-Fi page! You can find any links on my Linktree which is pinned in my first post :3 any information regarding extra characters, detailed backgrounds and stuff like that can be found there.
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papaemeritusballlz · 1 year
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finished comm for @c-rose2081 thank u sm for the support!!! ♥️♥️
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@c-rose2081 inspires me constantly ive drawn so much within the past month because of her lol
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argent-l-p · 2 months
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Facets of a Shattered Memory II
Series based on my interpretation of the Encanto Madremonte AU by the lovely @c-rose2081
Pt. 1
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Summary: Starting from where part one left off, we get a look into Isa's life following her escape from Casita and what the next five years of her life were like.
WARNINGS: Blood, Violence, Injury, And A Bit of Death
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The first thing that came to her was a memory, it was the only thing that she could say with certainty was the first thing she could remember. It was dark, voices were speaking above her and she was being held. In her ear sounded a choir speaking in unison, the voice high and like the rustling of trees “Amor, cuando despiertes el mundo será un lugar nuevo, pero necesitas saber esto. Tu eras amada, tan amada que no lo podemos describir.” 
Another voice, lower with the sound of rumbling mountains echoed below it, “Tu nombre es Isa, nosotras the llamamos Amor. Tu eres nuestra y nosotros somos tuyas, nunca dudes eso.” 
She felt movement at her side and a hand stroke her cheek before she woke up for the first time. 
(Months of waiting, the heavens holding their breath as the hour draws closer, the jungle quiet in the space where glass shards fused with molten gold, the result buried beneath their roots waiting to wake up as the body is changed.) 
It was warm, not suffocatingly so, but enough that her body melted into a languid stretch, slow and pleased. She could feel the soft bedding beneath her and the dips of whatever lay beneath the barrier, it was firm and unyielding, but the nest added a softness for her aching body to relax into. Time felt like it stood still and passed so slowly all at once, the only suggestion of it going by was the feeling of the arm trapped under her body falling asleep. 
Oh.  
What a wonder. 
It was feeling that came to her first, muscles unused for so long aching as bones moved from their place of rest, the stretch of her body triggering sensation and she felt the soft friction of plants against her skin. She noted the gaps in sensation and moved her hand down to feel where her thigh met her hip, feeling the difference in texture and the way it would not bend under the force of her fingers. She felt where it began and where it ended and, in her heart, she knew this was something good; Something meant to keep hurt far and away from her, though she didn’t quite know why she knew, only that she did. 
(Somewhere in the depths of her mind, an echo of a forgotten emotion drifted like smoke. The faintest after image of someone's wail and the pulling on her body. As sudden as its emergence it flickered, pulled into golden light, and before it could be registered it was gone.) 
The tearing of the leaves beneath her body brought sound to her ears and with great speed her hands clapped soundly over her ears. It was so loud, the texture of the noise itself grating on her newly awoken senses before she slowly pulled them away, adjusting to the new input. As she sat up and opened her eyes for the first time, they moved in tandem with her ears, and it startled her to feel the muscles move of their own accord. With slightly unsteady fingertips she brushed along the shell and traced their pointed shape, wondering at the newness if her own body. Her eyes never stopped tracking her surroundings, it was dark and dim, but as she began to look for the source of light illuminating the space, she realized that there was none and that she could still see despite it. 
It was at this moment that she heard the faintest whisper next to her ear and even if it was sudden, all she felt was love and warmth and gold- 
“Levántate Amor. Te tienes que levantar para ver las estrellas.” 
And in her mind, she saw a vast expanse of dark blue skies and hundreds upon thousands of lights filling everywhere she could see. That was something she knew she had to see, a deep-seated longing to greet that which felt like a promise connecting her to the light-ridden sky. Determination filled her and blood roared in her ears as she pushed herself up, a slight snarl forming in her lips as she began to look for a way out of her ben of vines and leaves. It was then that she heard the singing for the first time, moving from the subtle notes it had been only seconds before to an ascending choir, rising in volume until it was all she could hear. 
Isa looked down and there under bare feet were coiling vines, some coming from her skin and others from the roots she had been cradled in, climbing up her legs. She could hear them as if they were only an extension of her soul and if she focused her sight on them, she could faintly see golden strings tangling in the movement of their length. Within her she felt something stir, a primal knowledge that they would move if she told them to, not just the vines but the roots of whatever it was that they came from, and with that she pulled on the golden light within her watched as her surroundings exploded into sudden movement all at once. 
The vines sighed and wrapped tightly around her as the roots rose in unison, their laughter low, their creaking heralding the opening of the ceiling above and then there was light.  
It wasn’t bright by any means, no, but soft and ghostly. She watched, her pupils dilating, as the light grew larger and the opening wider, until she could crawl out and then her senses were filled with the sounds of a choir’s breathy laughter and fond sighs. It was intense and she closed her eyes to center herself and then looked up into the dark sky and marveled at the sight of golden chords stringing the stars together. 
(In the spaces that were and yet were not, the heavens finally quieted the remaining wails of the mourning stars. They looked down at the girl who had been mortal and yet was now more Other, more like them, than her kin. They saw golden eyes where there had been the brown of her mother and her skin was covered in the Jungle and the Earth’s claim.) 
As the world took its first breath in the aftermath of what was avoided, a child and those who loved her stood at the beginning of a path that fate had not touched. Far away in a living house, a mother held the remains of her daughter's clothing to her chest and mourned a life lost. Months of waiting for news ending in the tragedy of her loss, but in the wake of this pain a new future began to form. The golden light in the woman’s womb pulsed and the child’s fate was linked firmly to the stargazer in the mountains. 
(The stars looked down and for a moment their light twinkled in concert across the sky, light dancing across the world. The road would not be easy, they saw, but in the grand tapestry of their world this change in what was to come was better than it had been before.) 
Isa’s ear flicked over to listen to something beside her ear and with one last final glance at the sky above, she moved deep into the forest, quickly disappearing. The only thing giving away what had happened in the clearing was the still open hole in the ground and then it began to close as the animals in the surrounding vegetation began to sing again. It was when the moon above began to dip from its zenith that everything returned to how it had been only hours before, and the only marking left was the overturned dirt at the roots of the tree. 
(Sometimes, a child lives, and the world grieves for one less person lost to fate.)  
As the days passed, Isa learned how to traverse her surroundings, gradually moving like the predator she had become. On hands and feet, she learned to stalk as the jaguars did and in the trees, she adapted their movements. Weeks passed and then a month went by, her mind and body adjusting to the world around her, but all throughout it, she could hear the gentle singing all around her as she ran through the green and when night came, she could hear that sweet voice again, a guide. 
“Mira la manera que se mueven mi Amor. Mira como sus garras se encajan en el arbol y haz lo también.” 
“Mi pequeno amor, ven al agua. Necesitas tomar algo, te va dar sed.” 
“Ven y siéntate en el sol, Isa. Te va ser bien.” 
It was always there when she needed to be reminded of her own limits and to teach her as she learned, sometimes layered with a deep bass from below or the whisper of another woman’s voice. They never scared her, not ever, instead it felt like the gentle caress of sunlight against her skin and every time it happened, she could feel the golden chords inside of her chest sway and she saw the plants around her grow. It fascinated her to no end, doing whatever she could to prolong the sight and the feeling, sometimes hours would pass by as her want for this was indulged. 
In some part of her soul, she felt like she should be ashamed of asking for this attention and in turn felt embarrassed for the time she spent lounging in it, but that thought was swept away before it could even reach full formation, the choir around her crooning assurances; she was a child still and none of what she wanted was too far out of reach. What she didn’t know was that as she slept in the cradles woven for her high up in the canopy, the Jungle raged and seethed as she restrained herself from bringing her wrath upon the head of Alma Madrigal. Her counterpart, the Earth, rumbled lowly green eyes sparking with the light of molten rock and far away, a volcano erupted slowly.  
(A constellation darkened for the grief they held for child who should never have felt wrong for wanting to be loved. Already her desperation for the slightest loving touch was enough to make them weep, a feeling echoed by their brothers and sisters around them.) 
The day came, months after emerging from that primordial womb, that she noticed a pattern with her surroundings. Without conscious thought she had been moving the plants around her at times when she needed them to follow her will; They were independent, yes, but they answered when she called.  
When it came time for her to learn about the gold in her chest, she listened as they told her to close her eyes and gasped as she felt the chords vibrate as if on the other end they had been plucked and played. It was different and new, but it felt right. Like whatever was doing it meant only to help and did so with love and care and warmth- 
From her right she heard the singing rise and fall, a voice breaking through the sound, telling her to focus and when she did, a rush of power coursed through her. It was warm and gold, chords sinking into her soul for the first time to bring forth the feeling of the tree beneath her and the branch she sat on, but only for a moment as she was brought back to focus on the chorus around her and the sweet voice calling her attention.  
She tugged when they told her to and imagined the branch she sat on bloom, fruit developing on imagined buds, heavy and ripe for picking. When she opened her eyes, she saw her vision made reality. Where the very end of the wood hung over open air, a white blossom began to rapidly form, its petals opening and from it, fruit grew. She had only enough time to register its rapid swell in size, when she realized it would fall under its own weight and lunged forward to catch it. The momentum of her movement almost sent her completely over the reach of the branch, but in the second it took for her doubt to manifest, she was caught by the branch rising beneath her.  
Fruit clutched in one hand and her opposite arm wrapped around the sturdy branch beneath, wide eyes looked down at what she made grow. Golden eyes lit up and a sharp grin spread across her face to replace the initial shock. She sat up as carefully as she could while observing the object in her hand and when she was sure she had balanced herself well, she took the fruit in both hands and brought it up close to her face. For a moment a hesitation came over her. What if it hurt her? She had not needed to eat since emerging from the nest and when she had needed to recuperate, only when she was truly exhausted, she laid where the sun graced the earth until she felt her energy return and drank water from the rivers when she felt thirsty. Even then, it was only when it was needed, so far only having done so twice in the months since being awoken, her exhaustion forcing her to rest and lightly doze in golden rays. 
Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the giggling and fond sighs until she felt the slightest nudge, bringing her hand and the fruit closer to her mouth. Startled, she glanced towards where she felt gentle pressure, but saw nothing where familiar fingers pressed into bark and skin, the beginnings of vines growing ever to slightly. In the breeze she heard her protector murmur, “No tengas miedo, mi amor. Puedes comer.” 
And when she still hesitated, gentle hands cupped around her own and lips pressed to the crown of her head, the fruit brought to her mouth, and she took her first bite of food. At first, the skin of the fruit almost made her jerk back in surprise, the almost dry taste enough for her to not eat, but her canine pierced the barrier and suddenly something sweet dripped onto her tongue. Suffice to say she didn’t drop the fruit, but bit into it fully, pushing past the initial taste and tasting the meat inside and later when she climbed up into the trees to see where she was going, she noticed pollen falling from little flowers on her thigh. 
That was the first time she ate something of substance and though she didn’t need to eat at all, she still ate a bit every day. It was odd, she knew that the animals around her ate frequently, sometimes she would see predators taking kills larger than their bodies to eat in peace, but she never felt the hunger that they did. Did not feel the need to look for food the sate a pain in her stomach or to sink her teeth into something to bring a kill down, a predator without the need to feed. Isa was still young though, often being herded around by intangible forces and creaking trees, the plants around her hiding the small body learning to survive in a new world. 
Every moment spent under the vast star filled sky and weaving between ancient, sturdy trees brought its own lessons, but life is not always serene. Though the influence of the gods left Isa to learn her world, wide eyed wonder obscuring the inevitability of how the moments of life played out in dynamic melodies, a discordant note unavoidable. It came nearly a half year after the awakening, rain coming down on the canopy and thunder rumbling off in the distance clouds taking up the entire horizon. 
(A far-flung echo of a memory so faint only the vaguest feeling brought with it the notion of contained clouds and uniform weather. A childish chant of clear blue skies and the delighted shrieks of children playing in the sun, a whisper in the cry of the wind-) 
The crash of thunder and flash of lightning drew her attention above, the smell of rain and the coolness of the day enveloped her. She’d pulled herself up into the trees, the fog below obscuring her sight, only able to see so far ahead. Isa hummed as she set her sights on the far-off cliff-face, slightly hazy in the fog cover and mumbled to herself, her words carried off in the wind, “Ahi estas...” She’d been trekking for hours, the journey she’d been guided through longer than it would have been had she been older, often needing to stop, rest, and even eat more fruit to keep up her energy. That she’d made it this far, a third of the way, was a testament to how much she had grown in the past months. 
When she had awoken, she’d been akin to a newborn on shaky legs and sensitive senses, sometimes needing to be hidden away in a cocoon of secure vines when overwhelmed. Those early days were filled with rest, hidden by the jungle and the earth, listening to the chorus around her. As time had passed and she learned the limitations of her body, Isa had grown leaps and bounds, now able to traverse the landscape with occasional help from the roots and vines, having learned quickly that they followed her will after almost falling from a high tree and the entire tree having bent to cradle her. 
Another distant rumble shook Isa from her thoughts and she took a final glance to memorize the direction before scaling down and to the foggy jungle floor, her sight once again obscured and pointed ears flicking in all directions. With the canopy above already darkening the surroundings and the cloud cover overhead, it seemed as though the world had abruptly turned to night as she had reached the ground. With this is in mind she began to move forward, the world around her simply reduced to the sound of soft music, falling rain, and the passing vegetation. Maybe it was her inexperience with identifying distance through sound, the noise of thunder and rain, or simply a circumstance of being caught unawares, maybe a combination of them all, but Isa never noticed the pad of paws following her at a stalk. 
Isa was a predator, yes. Claws and canines were parts of her that she used, but she had never been in battle, she was young, inexperienced, and above all sheltered thus far in her existence; she was vulnerable, not unlike the young animals in the jungle, new to life and its challenges, but without someone to physically teach her despite her intangible choir. So, just like any other young animal, she was still prey to those so much more experienced than her. 
She didn’t have time to react, so it was when lightning flashed above, a small gap in the canopy allowing light to flash through, that she saw gleaming eyes and turned, eyes suddenly wide as she dropped low, watching the body of a jaguar leap over her. It yowled, a snarl pulling its lips back to reveal elongated fangs and she bared her own in return a sinister rattle erupting from her chest for the first time. It was sinister and it sounded like nothing like she’d ever heard before, but deep inside her, the gold in her soul burning and blinding, she knew that it was right.  
That same part of her, until then a slinking set of instincts from the shadows, began to stir and every part of her snarled at the threat being dealt. Quickly, that facet of her being woke up and suddenly she held her body with more grace, feet surer in their placement and muscles bunched up ready to spring; It was as if she had passed a threshold. The choir reached a crescendo, a pitch so high it felt like the stars themselves were singing and though she heard a note of distress in the song, she could also hear bolstering bass from the earth. 
It was then that her opponent visibly hesitated for a long moment, the change seen through its eyes letting her be seen as what she was; Something completely Other. But it was soon overcome and the hiss it let out as it bared its own fangs did not waver as eyes narrowed and fur stood on end. The plants growing in her skin shuddered and her ears pinned themselves to her skull, the space between herself and her opponent seeming to close until, like the lightning dancing above, they were on each other in seconds. 
(From above looking below, they saw what she did not feel, bark growing thicker like armor and where they cover her shoulders, it crawled up her neck. It covered her face in whorls, a mask and part of her body at the same time, meant to protect.) 
They collided with a slam, each gaining a violent purchase on the other and though the feline tried to snap down on her shoulder, Isa struck her hand into the side of its face. Where her nails had been sharp before, meant for the ease of climbing, they were dagger like now and the force of her strike sunk them deeply into their landing points. As it yowled, Isa’s grip grew tighter and her legs wrapped around its body, holding on as it began to move erratically, ignoring the hot pain of claws slicing into her back.  
It was only when they slammed into a tree that she let go and scrambled back, on her feet and hunched over golden eyes, a low and dangerous rumble vibrating deep in her chest. The jungle cat had backed up, staring at her and though the deep wounds on its face bled heavily, it did not falter and charged at her once again, its cry of challenge echoing off into the night. The fight did not end as quickly as it might have if Isa had been older and more experienced, but this heralded the beginning of who she would become and thought the jungle and her partner wanted to interfere, to help, the influence of fate held them back. 
Every blow was filed with sharp claws and the snap of teeth, bark crawling along Isa’s body, a slow growing armor that rose from her skin. There came a point where pain gave way to the numbing effects of adrenaline and she did not really feel the aching of her gained wounds, only feeling the way new ones appeared on her body as the battle went on. It became a blur of aggression and when she would later look back on the battle, she could not accurately say how long it lasted, only that she felt a bone deep tiredness. 
She’d had the upper hand for most of their battle having sliced three out of four legs to give her the benefit of its pain induced weakness. Where it seemed to struggle in the aftermath, she would worsen the injury count and she gained confidence when it continued to tire, but in her growing confidence she became blind to a fact she had witnessed so often; nothing was more dangerous than a cornered animal. Isa was doing well, yes, but she was so young, only really a child and by virtue she was not skilled in the art of combat nor defense. So, when she failed to see the desperation, failed to notice its gaze darting around and sharpening, she was not prepared for it to run into the vegetation. 
For a moment, she stood in disbelief and confusion, her tense stance loosening in the quiet. It took a few seconds before she realized that while the threat had disappeared, the nearby animals did not begin to vocalize and she began to turn slowly in a circle, eyes flickering from left to right trying to see movement and her ears followed suit. Isa’s. Heart began to beat faster than ever, the inability to locate where it had gone spurring her to panic and all she could hear was the blood roaring in her ears. 
Isa is young, a still inexperienced child in a world that had her fate tied to the land and the stars above. So, when she gave into panic and could not hear the movement above, the quiet growl of a stalking predator, the stars closed their eyes and her protectors held each other as it dropped onto her from above. She did not have time to run or dodge, only brace as she snapped her head up at the sound of a cracking branch and saw the danger coming from above. When they collided this time, it was the jaguar who had the advantage and sunk its teeth into her shoulder only barely stopped from reaching her neck by the instinctive reaction to flinch away from danger. 
Where before the adrenaline rush had prevented the pain felt in battle, it had passed enough that it could no longer shield her and she felt the blinding agony as claws tore at her thigh and fangs violently sunk into her. This was no longer a moment she had the upper hand; In this moment Isa became prey and she felt desperation leaking into her mind. All at once she began to thrash under the weight of her opponent, her right-hand balling into a fist to strike against its face as her left hand lay tensed in pain-induced paralysis. 
(Around her the choir wailed and the earth trembled as the child, their pequeno amor lay prone on the ground, fighting to stay alive, the hollow rattling of calls cutting off, replaced by shrieks. Their hands were bound by fate, the future waiting for what would happen next, but they called out to her as the crescendo finally crested and the golden chords grew taut, instinct taking over and her mind became sharp-)  
She did not think, not really. It was done in an instant, one moment crying out in pain and the next a sinister rattle echoing above the snarls on top of her. She did not really remember what happened clearly, only that her fear turned into rage and her hand was suddenly at its throat, claws piercing into tender flesh and her teeth cutting into its jugular vein, blood spilling onto her tongue. Isa felt it unlatch from her shoulder, a gag in its throat as it tried to get away, and she heard it give a gurgling cry as it tried to get her off. She did not let go as it slammed itself into the trees, only biting down harder and when it tried to go for her throat, she only held it away with her free hand, claws sinking into its face once again.  
It ends slowly, so different to how it started, but it ends all the same as blood continued to spill from her mouth onto the jungle floor, soaking into the earth. Golden eyes glowing behind a wooden mask slit, a dangerous focus and determination flooding them as she counted the seconds and stared up at the canopy above. The struggle begins to die down, its movements become sluggish, and where the sounds it was making had been normal until that point, they now held a wet gurgling quality to them. Isa kept counting, a steady rhythm, and when it gave a final spasm above her, it went limp. She waited and waited and waited, jaw still clenched around a mouthful of fur and covered in cooling blood until she felt and heard its heart stop beating, so close to its chest she could tell the exact moment it happened. It takes three hundred and ninety-five seconds, a little over four minutes she translates without thought, for it to end. 
Isa came back to herself slowly, like moving through tree sap, pushing the heavy body off until it slides to the side, but she doesn’t get up immediately. She laid there for what seemed like hours covered in the blood of her opponent and though a distant part of her felt like she should mourn, Isa in her entirety only felt relieved that she had survived. Propping herself up in one hand and clutching her thigh wound with the other, she lowly brought herself up to sit, gritting her teeth as pain flared sharply. Looking down at the cooling body beside her it suddenly registered that though she may have won this battle, she was covered in blood and the part of her that had woken up urged her to stand and leave, the scent of so much blood sure to bring in bigger things. Now taking in how small it was compared to others she had seen, she pushed herself up as fast as she feasibly could and began to move. 
With the urgency to get away, Isa remembered the cliff and the shelter she would have found there as she half-limped away, it may have been minutes or seconds, but at suddenly recalling what she’d been doing before her head swiveled left and right, looking for a clue as to where she was heading, ears listening for anything that may be coming toward her. Seeing nothing but green and thick jungle, she hissed in frustration moving a little faster until she heard moving water and almost throwing herself into the space as she stumbled over in her own pain. 
Stopping herself just before breaking out completely  into the open, Isa scanned the riversides and when she saw no animal nearby, she stumbled into the river. Holding her breath and closing her eyes as she ducked under the surface, she never saw the water wash away the now red water, too preoccupied with smoothing her hands down the places stained in red. The jungle around her tightened at the edges, restless to help and the plants in the water barred anything from coming towards her, still in the ways they should not be. It was only when her lungs began to burn for air that she rose to her knees and took a gasping breath, coughing up excess water and wincing at the sting of open wounds on her body. 
The haze of battle and the rush of new instincts began to fade, the rushing water seeming to sweep it away as her mind settled. The lightning overhead illuminated the sky above, its chaining branches stretching out like the roots of the trees and wind buffeted around her, dancing around to unheard music. In this moment sat in the river, soaked to the bone, and heaving for breath the light in Isa’s chest pulsed in time with the stars. For just a moment, Isa looked like the woman she would become, the future flickering over the present; a ghostly golden image of what was to come.  It could have been minutes, more than she must have registered really, but when she finally brought herself to equilibrium Isa hauled herself to her feet and marched towards the tree line. 
It didn’t matter that her body ached or that her blood began to run down her skin, all of that and more was shoved back as Isa climbed up on heavy limbs. She clenched her teeth as the wood contacted open wounds, but she soldiered on as she moved through the branches and into the canopy. It wasn’t quick, but when she crested the very last leaves, she breathed out a sharp sigh of relief as she saw the lightning illuminate the landscape. Sat there above the ground, she relaxed a little more and looked for the cliff she’d been heading towards before. She ignored the phantom feeling of claws and teeth cutting into her skin, looking this way and that until she caught sight of her destination and begun to move from branch to branch, willing each wooden limb reaching out for her to step on with so much focus she almost fell from the trees. 
Ever so slowly, she moved across the expanse of branches that remained between her and the cliffside, the flashing lighting the way as the storm continued to rumble above. The closer she got to where she needed to be, the taller the cliffside seemed to become and when she finally reached the base, its imposing height created a phantom pain in her arms, reminding her of days learning how to climb and run on shaky legs. She had come so far and though she knew that it was essential to reach the zenith of its height, where the jungle sung to her was safe, Isa also knew that she would not make it all the way, not yet. 
For a long moment, Isa stared up at the cliff and debated whether to find a different side with more handholds if she really had no choice but to climb, but then a small tugging on the gold in her chest caught her attention. Looking down at her feet, roots began to breach and cover the surface of the ground, starting to twine around her ankles. It was almost silly, the way Isa forgot about plants leaping to do her bidding, though her control was shaky and new. Hesitance to even think about committing to this plan warred against her creeping exhaustion, but as she looked up from the ground to the surroundings and the sky, Isa steeled herself and walked up to the rockface. 
Gently placing a hand off the cliff, Isa focused on the awareness of the plant life above and below, breathing deeply as golden chords laced themselves more firmly into her perception of the world around her. Recalling the way she connected to the tree, she let the power flow through her, the feeling so natural that she just knew that’s how it was meant to be and pushed her voice through to the waiting roots and branches.  
For a moment all was still and she thought that maybe it hadn’t worked, a crease forming on her brow as she whispered to the open air, “Por favor...” 
Then she heard the groaning and creaking of wood, loud and suddenly all around her as the trees began to lean down towards her, branches like the reaching arms of a loved one coming to lift her in the cradle of their hold. For the first time, the songs around her quieted and she heard something new begin to form and sing in time with the beating of her heart and harmonize with the rumbling of new instincts. As the branches reached her, they held still and Isa, worn to the bone and mind filled with new things to adjust to, stepped shakily onto it and told it to rise. Ascending the rocky wall, it felt like her heart was at once both beating with adrenaline and serene in the power she held, but overcoming all other feeling was joy. Joy that after so long walking she had reached her destination and joy at the thought of finally being able to rest from the battle she had been in, to heal her wounds in peace. 
Where the tree could not continue, roots broke from the earthen wall and lifted her farther as she stepped onto them, the rightness of the action spurring her faster and faster as a laugh bubbled up from her chest; It was exhilarating, it was exciting, and it felt like freedom. Reaching the very top, Isa stumbled a few steps forward and crashed to her knees, the brilliant high of her joy and the final remnants of her adrenaline fading to nothing but a effervescent bubbling as her mind began to fog over with her need to rest. 
(Something in the darkened night reveled in the unfettered feeling. Something that was denied and now reclaimed, laughed at the past and bared its teeth at the notion of being caged once again.) 
She would wake up hours later, wounds scabbing over, and new instincts woven into her being so thoroughly it was as if she had always had them. It would take time to relearn everything she had known before and even longer to learn about every new facet of herself, the day marking a year since Isa woke up in that dark cradle passing her by. The fight with the jaguar had taught her there were larger dangers than she was in this jungle and though she had won that fight, had clawed her way inch by inch to live, she was still young and inexperienced. The songs around her had changed just as she had, quieting itself to a low thrumming in the back of her mind for the most part, only a singular voice humming the melody louder than the rest. It spoke to her, taught her everything from the new perspective, steel hardening her voice and driven by worry, not that Isa knew that last part until many years later. 
It was arduous. 
Some days Isa would run for hours on end, a burst of energy burning through her and guiding her into a run, hours passing her by until she was caught in vines and roots. Little by little her stamina increased and alongside it, her strength as well.  By the time half a year passed since the jaguar, she could run farther and faster, though she most definitely was not the fastest thing around. Isa was still a child and even if she did have new instincts and had changed physically as well, her limitations had only slightly changed to accommodate the final transition into becoming more than she had been in the Before. Before waking up in the cradle, before knowing the melody of the jungle and the rumble of the earth beneath her feet, before knowing what it was to be cradled by a hundred different arms, before- 
(Memories that had tried to surface before, didn’t even make it to the surface as they lost their strength and surrendered to the dark, sinking down into the abyss where concrete memories were unmade into fragments of sense) 
Here in the valley where she had spent long hours dozing in the sun and watching the night sky change its image is where she grew into herself over the next few years, until one day, nearly three and a half years after having woken up, Isa saw something. 
Or should she say someone? 
It’d been from up and across a large gap in the trees that she had first seen someone that looked a bit like her, with warm skin a few shades darker than hers. It had startled her so much that she had nearly fallen from the nest of branches that she had been resting in, having grown far too big to even lay across a singular branch anymore. As it was, she had only just been able to use this method again, but she was never more grateful for the fact that the trees themselves would have warned her if she were in danger of falling. 
It was odd, like looking into the river and seeing half of herself in the body of another, but that description was wrong as well. From where she perched, she could hear noise coming from whoever this was and though she could catch snippets of words that she could understand there were some that sounded different that she had to take a moment to really figure out what they meant, like an echo of vague understanding. They were wearing colorful coverings so different from the fronds of leaves and bark that covered her own skin. 
They were shorter than her and though they seemed confident in their walk she could see that they had no muscle in their body to indicate a strength that would warrant it. It was quick and though she would have let them go, something told Isa that she needed to follow them, that the jungle was dangerous, and someone as ill prepared for it as them would be in danger just by being alone.  
So, climbing up until she was on her hands and feet, Isa crawled along the winding branches, following parallel to the person making the trek. Inside her chest, the golden chords seemed to settle as she watched over this new charge. As she kept pace, she felt the bark begin to creep up her neck and spread across her face, a mask falling into place as she kept watch out of sight and moved the vegetation to her whim. It was seamless, the way she moved beside them without this person being none the wiser, but to Isa it felt almost fated. As if her being there to keep them safe was what she had been meant to do, just as her care of the rainforest felt so right. 
As this person kept moving and she followed them silently, she got closer and closer until she could see them clearly and from above them.  It was almost startling the way she had to suppress a concerned whine and the instinct to drop down to figure out why she suddenly felt so tense at them being alone. Why did she feel so protective, like the jaguars were their cubs and the way she knew her invisible guardians were in the beginning? Looking around and casting out her awareness, she could not see anything around that would harm them, but something urged her to get them out, to deliver them where they needed to go and out of the dark jungle that they had been walking through. For someone like Isa, who had lived here in the jungle for years, had sharpened her teeth on the bones of animals that had hunted her and fought her way through every challenge, it was with learned power that she was able to walk through different places with her challenges halved.  
This person smelled like prey and though she may not have the same instincts as those of the predators who lurked in the dark, she knew with certainty that if it came to blows against one of the many dangers, they would not survive the fight and that made her heart lurch.  They would not be able to fight off a jaguar or run away from danger, not really. So, her soul becoming resolute, she closed the vegetation behind them as they moved, so slowly and noiselessly in the dark that they never glanced back to notice. 
Minute by agonizing minute passed at a pace of leaking sap and for every moment that she spent closing the trails that the inhabitants of the forest left behind, she cast her awareness as far as it could reach, intently focusing on monitoring all that moved. As she did so, the bark on her skin grew in whorls, covering her body. She almost looked like a living tree, were it not for the skin peeking through and the movement of her body as she flitted from branch to branch. If the woman had looked up, she would have seen golden eyes peering through her from the trees, but she did not. 
At least not then. 
It was as they were reaching the edge that Isa felt something begin to crash through the trees, hearing far before this person did and she found herself reacting on instinct. Muscles bunched and tensed as she prepared to drop down onto the jungle floor just as a young jaguar emerged from the trees with a growl that stopped her charge in their tracks, the scent of fear beginning to make itself knows as something dangerous entered the space. In truth had she been the only one there, she would have hissed at it, tried to scare it away without needing to fight it, but the moment she clocked the way it stalked her charge she had begun to let go of the branch. 
In the instance it took this person to register the danger coming from the tree line, backpedaling to try and get away, their sight was obscured by something else. 
Sara del Monte had only been trying to get home, the daylight having begun to fade when she realized she needed to get home. It would have been smarter to use the well-trodden and paved paths of the Encanto to get home, but she thought it would have wasted less time to get home on time to use a shortcut often used by her neighbors to get to and from their slightly secluded homes. It was a mistake to use a path she had not known at night, but by the time she realized that she was lost the light had already faded and she had no idea where to go. 
It had been a miracle she found the opening in the brush and the path by extension. It seemed that she only really knew where the path continued when she got close enough to reach out and touch the edge of a wall she’d thought had been there seconds before. It had gotten better after the first ten minutes; eyes having adjusted to the little light coming through the leaves. However, she was keenly aware of time passing, far longer than it should have taken to get home and she knew...the fact she hadn’t encountered any of the bestias nocturnas was worrying. 
Animals do not go quiet for no reason. They do it to hide themselves from the predators that walk the land, to try and survive as long as possible. 
It was almost inevitable, the low growling of something dangerous coming from her left, but still it startled her into turning to face the beast coming out of dark. She had started to back away, feet slipping a bit on the earth, when from above came a low, hissing rattle before she was blocked from sight. 
For a moment, she didn’t know what had happened, what had dropped down to join her and Jaguar, but before Sara could even begin to puzzle out what was in front of her, it rattled. It wasn’t like the soft rattling of a child's new toy, but deep and hollow, shaking her chest with the strength behind it. All she could do was stare wide-eyed at whatever was in front of her and the suddenly whining Jaguar. 
‘Dios mio....’ was the only thought running through her mind. It was a moment where her flight and fright instinct was torn in two, instead settling on freeze. Sara was not a big woman; she was one of the smallest women in her family. So, when whatever in front of her stood up and towered over her, head and shoulders easily clearing her own by a large margin, she could only stand and listen to the rattling. 
(Like the moving of the earth and the snap of breaking branches so large that they could be heard over the entire jungle. A hollow, deep sound that at once could be used to scare and to coo-) 
In a flash of movement, she was alone. Whatever it was that stood in front of her was gone and the Jaguar that had once been standing before her teeth bared, had disappeared. The only thing that assured her that it had even been there was the fading yowling heading in the direction of the deep jungle, faster than she could comprehend. She had stood there for long moments, trying to bring her heart back from the racing tempo it had begun to beat. Every attempt was met with stuttered breathing until she was breathing so fast her head began to swim. 
She had almost been attacked. So far from her home and nowhere familiar she had been face to face with something that could have dragged her into the dark never to be seen again had whatever been between her and it not dropped down. What had happened? What was that? Where was she? How did she get so lost? 
Sara wanted to go home to her family. To her mother and her little brother, where nothing bad would happen and she wasn’t stuck in the dark- 
A sudden low rumbling brought her back from the edge, soothing and shaking her chest with the vibrations. She sat up from where she had fallen during her panic and searched for wherever the sound was coming from with wide eyes filled with tears. Later, she would admit that had she not seen those eyes she would have believed that everything had been a trick of the mind and adrenaline saving her from death, but as the soft light of the moon streamed down from the canopy it caught on the golden, glowing eyes of something in the tree line.  
It was strange. For the first few moments that she had seen it, Sara had been prepared to run as far and as fast as she could to escape. But....they did not move any closer and in fact moved deeper into the trees. In a standstill that lasted longer than she could accurately say, neither of them moved; one struck still in startlement and the other to not scare. Those golden eyes looked at her and all Sara could think as nothing happened was, ‘they don’t look angry...’ 
Quite the opposite, she mused as her body untensed, and she took a small step forward in curiosity. They were higher up than anything she had ever seen with animals, almost reaching six feet. And the golden hue was more welcoming than terrifying in the moments she stared at them. The pupils dilated like a cat's eye when looking at something curious, like her own cat looked at her when she would come home after a long day at work. Really, all that was left to complete the image of the eyes was the noi- 
And that was when a low cooing, rumble shook the leaves, leaving a calming emotion in its wake; an imitation pf what a purr must be for whatever it was. Sara smiled, not able to help the grin creeping rapidly across her face at the familiar sound, but as she moved to take a step forward once again, the noise petered out and was replaced by a much softer rattle than the one it had made before while moving farther backwards into the trees. 
“Espera! Wait!” 
The eyes that had been moving back stopped and focused on her once again, a curious look in them. She hadn’t  a plan on what to do, nothing and everything on the tip of her tongue, but all she can say is, “A dónde vas?”  
She could almost kick herself for asking, but for all the embarrassment that begins to suffuse her body those golden eyes face her fully and tilt, like the face they belonged to cocked its head to the side. Taking another step closer, she spoke again, “I-I want to thank you.... si tu no hubieras intervenido-” she cut herself off, needing a moment to clear her throat and her eyes. Another rattle brought her attention back from where it had wandered and those eyes moved a bit closer, leaning down to be level with her own. 
In the lowlight, it wasn’t skin that she saw. Instead, the face that stared back at her was wooden and growing around it were plants sprouting from the sides, flowers blooming as she, because it was, stepping a little further into the light. She was covered in bark and her hair was intertwined with flowering vines, but what took her breath away wasn’t any of this. When she moved the jungle moved, the earth shaking with every step, and when she stopped roots wrapped around her feet, branches reached down for her and when she breathed it felt like everything around her did too; Like the very environment around her was her body and they were stood at its heart. 
There was so much caught in her throat, so much she wanted to say but a sudden cry from the jungle had he looking around in fear and moving closer to her guardian. Anything she would have said was locked away and as she looked back up at those eyes, they in turn softened at her scared expression and she stood up. 
They stared at her and in a moment the jungle began to move. Tree trunks leaned to the side, vines twisted themselves away, and the roots of so many plants shifted until a path carved itself out of the green and dark; a path more direct than the one she had been trying to find. Under her feet the ground began to shift and before she could even register what was happening, roots burst from the earth and lifted her into the grasp of the branches. It took her a moment to really recognize that the floor was not simply being turned but moving away from the clearing and along the path, the woman of the jungle keeping pace and overtaking her progress until she could see lights down below them at the end of the incline, she knew overlooked the town. 
Isa knew that she had to get this person down from where they were, but the only way she knew how to reach the lights as quickly as she needed was to be down the cliffside. Any other route would take her longer, especially as she was carrying this woman alongside her, and a command this long was still a little more than she could handle for long periods of time; at least for now. So, looking back at her, Isa closed her eyes for a brief second and listened to her ever present guides. 
(She was human, and they were not. She was not meant to know about them, not yet. Spirits or gods were never meant to be seen by them, but Isa was different. She had been flesh and blood before she had ever been theirs, like them, more than human-) 
La Madre Tierra reached out and her voice, the groaning of the mountains, “Sería mejor qué no se acuerde de ti, mi amor.” 
The Jungle, a chorus of a hundred different whispering voices and their leader, crooned in her ear, “Tal vez no completamente, mi amor.” 
And Isa knew, just as she knew that she was something more than the animals that wandered through the jungle and the person cradled in her branches, that this woman would sleep and her mind would cloud. She would remember the impressions of her being, would recognize that something other had come to her rescue, but Isa would not be revealed. Flowers bloomed on the branches of the branches and vines holding Sara up and her eyes grew wide in wonder, not noticing her rapidly increasing fatigue. 
She tried to speak, her eyes still staring at the the pale blooms, “Tan...He-hermosas...” 
The last thing Sara would remember among the collection of hazy memories of golden eyes, low rattles, and sweet-smelling flowers was saying one thing. 
“Madre....monte-” 
(Names have power, they cement themselves in the souls of those who are given them. Spirits and gods take the names that their people give them, a claiming of their gaze and being claimed in return.  
Isa was once flesh and blood, but she was more now; Something completely Other.  
Her Name was Isa and Amor, but now this name, falling from the lips of the innocent, was solely Hers.) 
In the coming hours, Sara would be found sound asleep at the edge of the town and Isa, looking down from the edge entrance of the mountains, breathed in time with the jungle and left the jungle of her childhood and off beyond all she had ever known. 
She would be back, her heart lying here, but a hundred different voices speaking as one and the sound of the earth rending would beckon her forward, guiding her into a new chapter. 
(Far away, in a house over-looking the town, a little girl stared up at a dim door and the face of carved on it. Wide eyes the color of her father’s stared up in unconcealed awe and for a moment, her eyes flickered a beautiful green.) 
The following two years were a whirlwind of memories that she cherished so much. Isa had known that she had been part of an extraordinary world, but she never understood the gravity of what she was. After helping the woman in the Jungle, Isa had grown curious. For a year she had spent time hopping in and out of the valley, going farther and farther out until she had made a patrol of every place that she had seen thus far, her awareness broadened with each step taken 
Time was not a concept that Isa really paid mind to. 
Isa was seventeen and her life had been defined by the cyclical changes that the seasons brought, and she had been changing alongside them. Where she had needed to climb, she simply reached. Where her feet had slipped, she gracefully crossed. Where she had strained to bring a vine to wrap around her, had needed the Chorus to aid her, the jungle did without thought. It was her body as much as her own was and the separation between what was her and what was golden chords didn't exist any longer. 
(Madremonte, they whispered in the dark of night. Gifts left at the edge of the jungle, taken by the time daylight breached the sky, and the memories of golden eyes and the moving of the jungle. Madremonte, they called her when lost souls found their way to Encanto with tales of raiders being dragged into the dark with the sound of an insidious rattle-) 
It had been five years since she had woken up and two years since she had guided her first person to safety. That time seemed like a lifetime ago and she was so different now to who she was then, so much faster and stronger than she had been. Predators that had once challenged her now stopped when they felt her presence, often either showing a sign of submission before something greater than them or avoiding her altogether, though she was noticing a much more relaxed reaction from them as of late. 
Her awareness was vast and though she was not omnipresent, she knew that if there was something that needed her attention she would know quickly as the whispers of her chorus would bring it to her attention if it was beyond her range of hearing. Isa was scarred in places she had not been before.
New ones crossing her body where the bark did not grow over them, and others only seen in the thick growth of it. The roundness of youth had left her almost completely, leaving hard earned muscle and a tall frame that reached a near seven-foot height. Her canines had grown and when she smiled, they poked out more than they had before; they had been put to good use in the past two years.  
Out there, where the cradle of her childhood ended, Isa had found villages and towns filled with people so close to the jungle that she had seen the beauty and cruelty man could offer. Often, women and children would wander into her domain, unaware of the silent presence that followed them, watching, learning. Isa had seen men set out, grim faced with their minds on finding food and followed them as they downed their catch, completely missing golden eyes from the tree line. She watched all of them and when they were lost, when they needed a miracle, she felt herself soften and provide. 
When families fled their homes, they found trails that led them through the jungle. They never noticed the trees falling on top of the raiders on horseback or the roots dragging those above them into the earth so quickly they had no time to cry out. When the starved searched for food, fruit trees grew near their homes, but it was with children that she acted. They were so in awe of everything around them, wide eyes, and so small compared to the world. 
It had started with a little boy, curly-haired and eyes the color of tree sap. He had wandered off into the trees and away from his home, moving farther and farther away until he had realized that he didn’t know where home was anymore. He had sat down on the jungle floor and cried, but around him the jungle slowly moved itself around him. He was so small and so precious, but he was so vulnerable here in her home where he could easily hurt himself, so Isa had dropped down and her mask retracted. It was odd having her face uncovered around people, but deep in her bones she knew that a child was the exception, would always be the point where she would break away from the normal and act. 
He had been afraid at first and she understood why, but as she trilled a soft rattle and playfully guided the vines to dance around and bloom, he laughed and reached for her. He was so small and in comparison, Isa was a giant to him, unafraid though he was, but oh how she melted when he giggled and grabbed her nose. Some part of Isa knew right then and there that come hell or high water, she would die before she let a child come to harm. She could have spent hours playing with him, but a far off where no mortal person could hear, she heard the cry of a woman calling out and the beginning commotion of others joining her call.
In the end, Isa had brought him closer to her chest with one hand and with the other she climbed into the trees with a leap. It was hard, moving with another attached to her, especially when he began to squirm in her grip, but as she began to hum a lullaby that she loved with the hope of calming him, he settled. She had gotten close enough to the calls that she could see light faintly moving through the trees. Moving back a bit, the roots of a large tree emerged from the ground, and she crouched down. 
Willing moss to grow to make a bed for him to lay on, she moved him a bit away from her and looked down at his sleepy face. She smiled and the sweet scent of a nearby flower flooded his senses, “Buenos sueños, chiquitin.” 
As his eyes closed and he went limp with sleep, she stood back up looking back at the lights getting slowly closer and disappeared into the dark jungle.  
(It was a crash in the jungle that drew them further in. 
When they found him curled up in the roots of the tree, they were relieved and, in the morning, when he was back home and his family asked him what happened, he would tell them how scared he had been when he couldn’t find home. He would tell them of golden eyes and a kind face, of soft rattles and the moving Jungle. He would tell them She saved him.) 
Isa had tried to remain hidden from the knowledge of those unlike her. 
(Some things walk into the light no matter how much you wish to hide them. Maybe not the whole of it, but fragments of things people saw while running like roots pulling evil men under...) 
Had never allowed people to remember her and sent them to sleep. 
(Or fruit appearing on new trees that weren't there before.) 
But for this child she had shown her face- 
(Sometimes it is golden eyes watching from the far shadows.) 
Her eyes- 
(And rarely, even the moving jungle) 
Her smile. 
(Whispers in the dark of shared experiences, belief growing through the years, gifts left at the edge of the jungle as offerings disappearing come morning.)
So, when she heard the cries of another scared child from her perch on the cliff and the low rumbles of a Jaguar getting closer, it was no surprise that she dropped everything- 
(Stopped watching the house on the hill and followed the pull in her chest-) 
And ran. 
______________________________________________
I have returned! It only took more than a year and whatever muse I was using to come back, but I have returned lol. Anyways, we'll be seeing Mirabel in the next part so be on the lookout for that.
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kitsune024 · 9 months
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Crossover
Centaurworld
The King of The Forgotten by Sliced_Moon_Martini I Chapters: 1/1 I Oneshot Au Fantasy, Dark fantasy, Bruno & Mirabel, Villian Bruno, sad and sweet, monsters and magic
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The Werewolf of Colombia by @addaxus I Chapters: 4/? I Werewolf Bruno, Bruno leaves after Mirabel ceremony, Body Horror Golden Halos by @c-rose2081 I Chapters: 9/? I Mirabel has a gift, teacher & apprentice, Dark & Light trope, Family fluff, Bruno & Mirabel Bruno's Peaceful Life by @sunny-days-and-warm-mournings I Chapters: 18/? I Runaway Bruno, Bruno leaves after Mirabel ceremony Among the Emeralds by @thecrazyashley-blog I Chapters 25/36 | Bruno x Fem oc, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Failed Matchmaker Alma, Emotional Hurt/ Comfort, Angst, Bruno being a Bamf I am the fire and I am the forest and I am the witness watching it by @strobingthingsfoundindumpsters I Chapters 13/16 I Kidnapping, bruno has uncontrolled visions, Organized Crime, Lesbian Isabela
Completed Fics
The Eyes Have It by Sinclaironfire I Chapters: 53/53 I Bruno Suffers, Kidnapping, Blind Bruno, Imprisonment, misuse of gift, torture, slavery, soldiers, Bruno x Fem oc, Slow Burn Clumps In The Sand by theothersideofparadise | Chapters 17/17 | Villian Bruno- not really, Alma Tries
Oneshots
The In-between by Gozzer I Chapters: 1/1 I Inspired by Bruno's Peaceful Life, Canon Divergence, Deity Bruno, Immortal Bruno, Eldritch Creatures, Bruno leaves after Mirabel ceremony, Isabela leaves Encanto, Bruno & Isabela Set in stone by WhistlingWolf13 I Chapters: 1/1 I Hurt/Comfort, Bruno has visions, Bruno & Mirabel
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