#madremonte

[nyx-and-nox]

May or may not have forgotten to keep posting on here, Oops. But have a design I made for Hispanic Heritage Month (more coming soon) For this, I decided to do designs for some of the mythological creatures from Colombia! This serves as a learning curve for me, since I've wanted to research them for a while, so here we are!

Anyways, meet La Madremonte (better known as Mother Earth.) She is said to be a deity who represents the mountains, who is dressed with leaves and tree branches. People say she is partly female, partly made of earth.

Her mission is to protect the forests and nature, and she attacks when there are winds or floods that harm her domain, or when hunters enter her domain to search for food.

⛰️🗻⛰️

I have another piece that's done, but college stuff and school is making drawing REALLY difficult, so I'm not sure if ill be able to do more for this month.

⛰️🗻⛰️

Commissions Open, DM for Info

#art #hispanic heritage month #hispanic heritage #colombia #columbian mythology #mythology #folktales #legends #myth #mother earth #earth #madremonte #deity #nature #leaves #flowers #character #character design #character art #flat color #wood #commissions open #digital art

[cobrastrikes421]

Halloween monster and other scary thing

Bat are winged mammals that have forelimbs adapted as wings, they are the only mammals that they can fly.

Wendigo where once human and turn into cannibal monsters they have strong magic to hide in plain sight.

Madremonte is the guardian of the rainforest who keeps her jungle and her animals safe from evil trust past her in the forest.

Spell books are textbook of magic, typically including instructions on how to create magic and magical objects like talisman and amulet, including potion making as well.

Spider have venom and have spinnerets that extrude silk.

Asmodeus is the king of the lust realm and have 3 heads of a bull, ram, and a human with it.

Scorpion are predatory arachnids of the order scorpion.

A cheetah is sitting on somebody graveyard and chilling in the Halloween vibes the year at a cemetery.

Medusa is a Gorgon that was human but now a snake monster that can turn people to stone with just one look in the eyes.

Arachne was once human but now a spider monster because of the goddess that made her like this in a challenge that she lost in.

Hobgoblin are small, hairy little creatures, often found within human dwellings, doing odd jobs around the house while the family is asleep.

A goblin is a small, grotesque, monstrous creatures that appears in the folklore of multiple European cultures.

An antelope is digging into some gravestone and something is coming out of it tombstone already.

Skeleton are the human remains and they my not be living humans anymore when they die but they still can have a good look.

Mummies are dead human or animals rapped in bandages and their body don’t decade in the tombstone.

Imps are similar to fair and demons, frequently described in folklore and superstition.

Me and my sister are having candy and flying on our broom sticks with our cats.

Her style @brose1229

#my art style #halloween #my ocs #happy halloween #furry oc #monster #myths and monsters #sweet and sour #witches broom #mummies #imp #spooky scary skeletons #tombstone #gravestone #hobgoblin #goblins #spider demon #spider #asmodeus #Madremonte #medusa #arachne #scorpion #graveyard #cemetery #spell book #bat #wendigo #costume

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Title goes here :P

Danny joined the Justice League - specifically their magic division, Justice League Dark - after the GIW got sloppy with their information blackout.

He's just been assigned a new mission. It's not his first mission, but it's definitely going to be the absolute best mission he's ever had. Probably the best mission he will ever have considering it combines his two obsessions: space and protection. His mission is to protect Madremonte (a columbian protector spirit/deity of the forest and the natural life) and a couple oreads (mountain nymphs) at the Watchtower until the rest of the JLD can clear their respective homes of Hunters.

Until then, he and his 3 charges get to explore the common areas available to them and chat about their respective interests.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #it both helps and causes some strife among the group that the mountain nymphs used to be part of Artemis' hunting group #like yes please tell us more about the stars and the plants growing in your respective homes #but please stop talking about your best kills during your hunts #it's making madremonte upset #danny and madremonte can bond over their protection obsession #they all can bond over how gorgeous the stars planets and moon look from the safety of the inside of the watchtower #this was going to be a “danny is the one being protected from some mythical beings and is having a hard time bc of his protection obsession #but i couldn't decide which mythical beings to use #so i used a randomizer and got this instead

[argent-l-p]

Facets of a Shattered Memory II

Series based on my interpretation of the Encanto Madremonte AU by the lovely @c-rose2081

Pt. 1

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

______________________________________________

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.

#isabela madrigal #encanto madremonte au #encanto #encanto au

[unskilled-dabbler]

Dangers Revealed and Hardships Healed

Artwork to accompany @empty-cryptid's fic Madremonte's Garden and the Wakos' Cave for @encantobigbang

(see their tumblr post about it here)

Details exploring Pepa's gift, the relationship and childhood of the triplets, and how they feel reuniting after Bruno had been apart from Julieta and Pepa for so long! It's wonderful. Highly recommend. 10/10 fic.

A more detailed closeup along with the fic summary beneath the cut <3

Madremonte's Garden and the Wakos' Cave

The triplets decide to rekindle a tradition they had before Bruno hid in the walls. Taking a hike to a special place for some sibling bonding sounds like a wonderful idea now that Bruno has returned, Casita is reborn, and the family is healing nicely.

This event was a lot of fun and empty-cryptid was a pleasure to work with. I love what they came up with and I hope everyone reads it.

#encanto #encantobigbang #pb&j triplets #pepa madrigal #bruno madrigal #julieta madrigal #the triplets reunite #la familia madrigal #encanto fic #encanto fic: madremonte's garden and the wako's cave #empty-cryptid #By Nyda

[empty-cryptid]

This is my @encantobigbang story.

Madremonte's Garden and the Wakos' Cave

SUMMARY

The triplets decide to rekindle a tradition they had before Bruno hid in the walls. Taking a hike to a special place for some sibling bonding sounds like a wonderful idea now that Bruno has returned, Casita is reborn, and the family is healing nicely.

An accompanying art piece was done by @unskilled-dabbler and it can be found here. Go look at it, she did a fantastic job!

I had a whole lot of fun with this event and I really enjoyed working with @unskilled-dabbler. Thank you to the mods that put the whole thing together!

#encanto #encantobigbang #pb&j triplets #pepa madrigal #julieta madrigal #bruno madrigal #madrigal triplets #fanfiction #encanto fanfiction #fanfic #encanto fanfic #encanto fic: madremonte's garden and the wakos' cave #unskilled-dabbler #encanto art #fanart #encanto fanart #my writing #Fic: Madremonte's Garden and the Wakos' Cave

[encantobigbang]

Event Info / FAQ / AO3 Collection

The Encanto Big Bang Event was a collaborative creative project by the Encanto fandom, taking place from October 2022. These 57 stories were written and illustrated by over 100 artists and writers, who signed up to collaborate with a partner.

Thank you for being a part of the Encanto Big Bang! The miracle really is you. 💛

All Works of the Encanto Big Bang:

🌠Bruno's Haircut by @rinnysega / Artwork by @sketchnwhatevr

🌠The Other Bruno by @cheetee / Artwork by @clownmoontoon

🌠Games, Wine, and Tears…? by @becstuffs / Artwork by @fnafgamer4373

🌠Pandeb-oh no! by @msmacabre310 / Artwork by @catmintarts

🌠Branching Out by @sorryiwasasleep / Artwork by @notmichealangelo

🌠Of Selflessness, Stubborness, and Sickness by @katzoo12 / Artwork by @the-little-robyn

🌠Madremonte's Garden and the Wakos' Cave by @empty-cryptid / Artwork by @unskilled-dabbler

🌠Shelter from the Storm by @beggars-opera / Video (!!) by @cloudy-encanto

🌠A Time for Building by @waitingonavision / Artwork by @aeshnalacrymosa

🌠El Milágro de la Bebé by @usedtobeguest123 / Artwork by @lvnamuraart

🌠Mirrored Time by @breannasfluff / Artwork by @lvnamuraart

🌠Non-Luminous Zone by @youmaycallmeyourhighness / Artwork by @firinnie

🌠Bruno and the Dragon by @ramblesanddragons / Artwork by @greenvillainredemption

🌠Are you there, God? It's me, Julieta by @metaphoricaltigers / Artwork by @rats0ut

🌠Florecita's Hour by @fireroll / Artwork by @rats0ut

🌠A Flair for Dramatics by @starlightomicron / Illustration 1 by @scribbles-by-hinata / Illustration 2 by @lighttanks-blog

🌠Traditions and Habits by @starlightomicron / Artwork by @glitternightingale

🌠The Triumphant Return of Madrigal’s Marvelous Rat Theater! by @encantowishes / Artwork by @hectic-hector

🌠Blue Skies by @strawberryxfieldz / Artwork by @shuinami

🌠A Thousand Words Never Spoken by @peachhoneii / Artwork by @prophetic-hijinks

🌠Sewn Misery by @azarthepigeonlady / Artwork by @eli-endza-030

🌠Man of the House by @impossiblefangirl0632 / Artwork by @rialerthorston

🌠this is a life (free from destiny) by @tolucawritessometimes / Artwork by @vikigyt

🌠A Not-So Normal, Normal Day by @coolunclebruno / Artwork by @piepelu

🌠Quédate Conmigo by @missdarhk / Artwork by @mmollymercury

🌠That's The Thing About Illicit Affairs... by @princesa-pens-and-pizza / Artwork by @dizylizy

🌠Potions and Mariposas by @bitsy83 / Artwork by @blairaptor

🌠The Wake of a Miracle by @immabethehero / Artwork by @stain-is-the-name

🌠Rulebreakers by @missilestorm1 / Artwork by @sketchyp0p

🌠Tornado by siredbamon / Artwork by @clopinasworld

🌠Hills to Climb by @acewithapaintbrush / Artwork by @littenstinymittens

🌠Watch for the New Moon by butterflygirl386 / Artwork by @gw-doodlez

🌠Dancing in the Dark by @the-montage / Artwork by @kabumek

🌠Hija Mío by That_crazy_Angel / Artwork by @summersofsalt

🌠the light after darkness by planetundersiege / Artwork by @pepa-brainrot

🌠Design choices and sisterly bonding by @lunadarkia / Artwork by @omgcheez

🌠The Chameleon and the Healer by @readitwriteit / Artwork by @alexthebordercollie

🌠A mystical journey by @naoko-world / Artwork by eirieniel

🌠Milagros by @sokkas-first-fangirl / Artwork by doss.97

🌠All That Shines Is Not Porcelain by @hourglass-dreams / Artwork by MAFBR_

🌠Tres Otros by @avatarvyakara / Artwork by @silvercdeer

🌠 and you feel the world is spinning (with no ending and no beginning) by @certifiedbraingenius​ / Artwork by rainbowlecat

🌠 Confessions of a Closeted Gay by @theglareyousee​ / Artwork by jaimarieart

🌠 Old Habits Die Hard by @justheweirdo​ / Artwork by @ro-bun​​ 

🌠Temporary by @untoldstories113​ / Artwork 1 by blackdragonsama / Illustration 2 by noni_art_16

🌠 Buried by @untoldstories113​ / Artwork by @orchidlatte​

🌠 The Ring by @lizzywrites1​ / Artwork by @overly-dramatic-artist​​

🌠 A Spoonful of Sugar by @azucareraart​​ / Artwork by @flimsysquid​​

🌠 Modelling Can Be Fun! by @venluming​​ / Artwork by behnletthal

🌠 Bad Luck Birthday by @eventide-13​​ / Artwork by @thatskindarough​​

🌠 Dulzura y Solemnidad (Sweetness and Solemnity) by @thecrazyashley-blog​​ / Artwork by @neon-green-eyes​​

🌠 Uncertain Souls by @nephilimsvoice​​ / Illustration 1 by @badwaves​​ / Illustration 2 by itel

🌠 Growing Pains by @sharknadoslutt​​ / Artwork by @geckodoodles​​

🌠 In-Between by sadelsa / Artwork by @captaincravatthecapricious​​​

🌠 sand from a broken hourglass by @imperfectemeralds​​ / Artwork by @corasparasol​​​

🌠 Untitled by UC_Glue / Artwork by @spanishmonkeys​ 

🌠 Pockets full of stones by @ambidextrous-space-samurai​​ / Artwork by @encantoartdump​​

#encanto #mod tata #encantobigbang

[cheetee]

The Encanto Big Bang 2022 Roundup!

This is the full list of all fics currently logged on the @encantobigbang blog for the 2022 EBB!

Note: This list is a work in progress! The complete list will be posted and pinned to the EBB blog once all participants have finished uploading.

🌠Bruno's Haircut by @rinnysega / Illustration by @sketchnwhatevr

🌠The Other Bruno by @cheetee / Illustration by @clownmoontoon

🌠Games, Wine, and Tears…? by @becstuffs / illustration by @fnafgamer4373​

🌠Pandeb-oh no! by @msmacabre310 / Illustration by @catmintarts

🌠Branching Out by @sorryiwasasleep / Illustration by @notmichealangelo

🌠Of Selflessness, Stubborness, and Sickness by @katzoo12 / Illustration by @the-little-robyn

🌠Madremonte's Garden and the Wakos' Cave by @empty-cryptid / Illustration by @unskilled-dabbler

🌠Shelter from the Storm by @beggars-opera / Video (!!) by @cloudy-encanto

🌠A Time for Building by @waitingonavision / Illustration by @aeshnalacrymosa

🌠El Milágro de la Bebé by @usedtobeguest123 / Illustration by @lvnamuraart

🌠Mirrored Time by @breannasfluff / Illustration by @lvnamuraart

🌠Non-Luminous Zone by @youmaycallmeyourhighness / Illustration by @firinnie

🌠Bruno and the Dragon by @ramblesanddragons / Illustration by @greenvillainredemption

🌠Are you there, God? It's me, Julieta by @metaphoricaltigers / Illustration by @rats0ut

🌠Florecita's Hour by @fireroll / Illustration by @rats0ut

🌠A Flair for Dramatics by @starlightomicron / Illustration 1 by @scribbles-by-hinata / Illustration 2 by @lighttanks-blog

🌠Traditions and Habits by @starlightomicron / Illustration by @glitternightingale

🌠The Triumphant Return of Madrigal’s Marvelous Rat Theater! by @encantowishes / Illustration by @hectic-hector

🌠Blue Skies by @strawberryxfieldz / Illustration by @shuinami

🌠A Thousand Words Never Spoken by @peachhoneii / Illustration by @prophetic-hijinks

🌠Sewn Misery by @azarthepigeonlady / Illustration by @eli-endza-030

🌠Man of the House by @impossiblefangirl0632 / Illustration by @rialerthorston

🌠this is a life (free from destiny) by @tolucawritessometimes / Illustration by @vikigyt

🌠A Not-So Normal, Normal Day by @coolunclebruno / Illustration by @piepelu

🌠Quédate Conmigo by @missdarhk / Illustration by @mmollymercury

🌠That's The Thing About Illicit Affairs... by @princesa-pens-and-pizza / Illustration by @dizylizy

🌠Potions and Mariposas by @bitsy83 / Illustration by @blairaptor

🌠The Wake of a Miracle by @immabethehero / Illustration by @stain-is-the-name

🌠Rulebreakers by @missilestorm1 / Illustration by @sketchyp0p

🌠Tornado by siredbamon / Illustration by @clopinasworld

🌠Hills to Climb by @acewithapaintbrush / Illustration by @littenstinymittens

🌠Watch for the New Moon by butterflygirl386 / Illustration by @gw-doodlez

🌠Dancing in the Dark by @the-montage / Illustration by @kabumek

🌠Hija Mío by That_crazy_Angel / Illustration by @summersofsalt

🌠the light after darkness by planetundersiege / Illustration by @pepa-brainrot

🌠Design choices and sisterly bonding by @lunadarkia / Illustration by @omgcheez

🌠The Chameleon and the Healer by @readitwriteit / Illustration by @alexthebordercollie

🌠A mystical journey by @naoko-world / Illustration by eirieniel

🌠Milagros by @sokkas-first-fangirl / Illustration by doss.97

🌠All That Shines Is Not Porcelain by @hourglass-dreams / Illustration by MAFBR_

🌠Tres Otros by @avatarvyakara​ / Illustration by @silvercdeer​

#encanto #encantobigbang

[freakyfolktalefigures-tournament]

More info under the cut!

La Madremonte (Columbia - Amazonian Reigon):

(Note - the linked article is about Columbian folklore as a whole, look under "Legendary Figures" for La Madremonte)

La Madremonte is a lady wearing a dress and hat made of leafs and moss, she's described to look like a mix between human and trees. She screams on stormy nights, rivers flood when she bathes and she punishes those who trespass her territory or are just generally shitty people. She brings plagues upon usurpers and honestly she is absolutely right for all of this

Bachué (Columbia - Muisca):

She's the mother of mankind according to Muisca beliefs. She came out of a lake and with her son, they populated Earth. When she considered there were enough humans, she turned into a serpent and went back to the lake, but she would come out every now and then to remind humans they were not alone, she was there to guide them.

Muisca culture was (somewhat) matrilineal because they consider wisdom is transmitted through women starting with Bachué. The one to become next chief (cacique) was not the son but the nephew, the son of the current cacique's sister.

#polls

[legend-collection]

Patasola

The Patasola or "one leg" is one of many legends in South American folklore about female monsters from the jungle, appearing to male hunters or loggers in the middle of the wilderness when they think about women. The Patasola appears in the form of a beautiful and seductive woman, often in the likeness of a loved one, who lures a man away from his companions deep into the jungle. There, the Patasola reveals her true, hideous appearance as a one-legged creature with ferocious vampire-like lust for human flesh and blood, attacking and devouring the flesh or sucking the blood of her victims.

The Patasola derives from vampire legend. According to popular belief, she inhabits mountain ranges, virgin forests, and other heavily wooded or jungle-like areas. At the edges of these places, and primarily at night, she lures male hunters, loggers, miners, millers, and animal herders. She also interferes with their daily activities. She blocks shortcuts through the jungle, disorients hunters, and throws hunting dogs off the scent of their game. The Patasola is usually regarded as protective of nature and the forest animals and unforgiving when humans enter their domains to alter or destroy them.

Additionally, the exact name and attributes of the myth vary according to region. For example, a creature similar to La Patasola is called La Tunda in the Colombian Pacific Coast region. Other mythical creatures similar in description to La Patasola but differing in name are found throughout Latin America.

La Patasola's most notable feature, from which her name derives, is her one leg. She is believed to possess only one leg, which terminates in a cleaved bovine-like hoof and moves in a plantigrade fashion. Despite only possessing one leg, La Patasola can move swiftly through the jungle. In her natural state, La Patasola has a terrifying appearance; she is described as possessing one breast, bulging eyes, catlike fangs, a hooked nose, and big lips.

La Patasola can metamorphose into different shapes and appearances. She commonly takes on the appearance of a beautiful woman to lure men to their death. She then uses her feline-type fangs to suck the blood from her victims. It is also believed that she can transform into other animals, materializing as a large black dog or cow.

According to Javier Ocampo Lopez, when pleased, La Patasola climbs to the top of a tree or mountain and sings the following song:

"I'm more than the siren / I live alone in the world: / and no one can resist me / because I am the Patasola. / On the road, at home, / on the mountain and the river, / in the air and in the clouds / all that exists is mine."

La Patasola's origin story varies, but usually follows the pattern of a scorned, unfaithful, or otherwise "bad" woman. Some believe that she was a mother who killed her own son, and was then banished to the woods as punishment. Others believe that she was a wicked temptress who was cruel to both men and women, and for this reason they mutilated her with an axe, chopping off one leg and throwing it into a fire. She then died of her injuries and now haunts the forests and mountain ranges. In a third origin story, she was an unfaithful wife who cheated on her husband with the couple's employer, a patron. Upon discovering her infidelity, the jealous husband murdered both her and the patron. She died but her soul remains in a one-legged body.

More common in Colombian folklore, they are similar to the Sayona (Venezuela), the Tunda (Colombian Pacific), and the Madremonte or Marimonda (Colombia).

The La Tunda myth of the Colombian Pacific region also tells of a vicious woman who sucks the blood of men. However, in this legend, "La Tunda's shape-shifting abilities are far from perfect…for whatever form she assumes will invariably have a wooden leg in the shape of a molinillo (wooden whisk). The monster, however, is very cunning, and is adept at concealing this defect from would-be victims."

Similar in behavior to La Patasola is "Matlacihua, a phantasm in the beautiful and svelte form of a woman dressed in white. Sometimes called the White Lady or the Bride, she would appear at night and with her seductive songs and irresistible beauty, lure men of bad conduct into the forest, scaring them half to death." Though not described as sucking the blood of her victims, the White Lady supposedly deterred men from seeking amorous relations in the woods, jungles, or mountain ranges.

#Patasola #south america

[gamerbearmira]

BatB AU: what cryptids/myths are the Madrigals now? For Isabela, I'd like to suggest la Madremonte. It's basically the Colombian mother nature myth(I think). And moths have wicked hearing so maybe moth girl for Dolores? It maybe something bat-related, since they're sharp-eared too. Minotaur for Luisa? She's probably one of the more docile ones... How wild is everyone? And how friendly?

Ok the ones you have so far are good! So. Yeah.

Someone before mention Antonio would be a chimera of sorts so there’s his :))) Camilo, maybe a kitsune of some kind, seeing that those creatures can shapeshift pretty freely. Pepa is some sort of cloud being, with her emotions basically affected her body and the surrounding area. She’s literally made of clouds. Fèlix is sort of like a sun/light being??? Can’t look at the dude for too long,especially when he’s super happy,he’s way too bright. I don’t know sun and clouds are so cool though.

Julieta is some kind of. Frankenstein like being??? Stark contrast to her gift, but I love irony. Undead/Stiched together healer haha. Agustín, idk why but that mfs gives me swamp monster vibes. Why you ask?? He’s always tripping over stuff, and if he was covered in vines/seaweed, swamp material etc etc, he’d be trippin over that too.

Bruno is. Idk. A yeti mix. Shiiiii with those mfs living in the mountains and Bruno being a little distant (but not as much as before,only a tad bit;he feels like heshould’ve saw this family, but the family assures him it’s not his fault…except for Alma, she plays victim card a little too much in this AU…) idk 😭😭😭I’m clueless on Alma 💀💀

As for the more wild ones, def Camilo, Antonio and possibly even Agustín. Antonio and Camilo for obvious reasons, Agustín cause he can’t not move, and he somehow always ends up in the most random places. No one knows how, he just does. Kinda freaks them out but they can’t do much about it.

And like the og movie, they’re all very openly friendly to Mirabel, even Isabela. She left when she was 5, and they were cursed at that time as well. They didn’t have any kind of way to grow distant with her. Had no reason to hate her; in fact they missed her, greatly. She was always such an optimistic little girl, and the family wished that she stayed, so that even if they’re cursed, they could find some kind of hope and happiness in Mirabel, because she saw the best in everyone.

And Mirabel, while spooked first, eventually (very quickly, actually) is just as welcoming to them. One might think they would blame Mirabel for the curse but they actually blame Alma. Mirabel was 5, and Alma was the one who kicked her out, so it’s Alma’s fault. Casita is even very expressive when Mirabel is around, and if Casita likes her, the family has no reason not to like her. Alma is the only one who has a problem with Mirabel right out the gate, but it gets better over time.

They treat her like family, more than anyone outside Casita (not including Agustin’s parents). And she likes that, she knows that they didn’t mean for her to be thrown out like that. She knows they didn’t intend for her to stay out of Casita; in fact most of them had been informed that Mirabel had simply been taken out of the house for a little while, and Alma was going to put her in her own room once it was mad, til she officially announced Mirabel wasn’t gonna come back. Hence why the family is a little rocky around Alma, but they don’t objectively hate her. They’re more disappointed and upset if anything.

Can you guys tell I’m way too invested in this AU.

What hast thou wrought upon me?

#encanto #my asks are open #my asks #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #beauty and the beast au

[nyx-and-nox]

Back with another drawing for Hispanic Heritage Month!

Meet the second deity from one of Colombia’s legends, La Madre Agra (Mother of Water).

According to legend, she is a deity who takes on the form of a young woman, with flowing blonde hair and a marvelous voice. Like the sirens of Greek mythology, the Mother of Water will choose a song to lure her victims (usually children, who are easier for her to lure) towards a body of water, where she can drag them towards her palace below, drowning them in the process.

I wanted to see how I could take aspects of Madremonte’s design and incorporate that into Madre Agua’s, and I ended up focusing on the leaf/moss outfit, since It supposedly is something the Mother of Water wears. I had fun playing with her pose, and trying out underwater lighting, even having her hands and legs morph into water.

Let me know what you think!

And reminder, commissions are open! DM me for info (since I don't have an official post yet)

#art #digital art #digital drawing #hispanic heritage #hispanic heritage month #colombia #madre agua #mother water #deity #myth #mythology #colombian mythology #colombiana #legend #folktale #nature #water #drawing #artists on tumblr #character design #character art #original character #character

[simatomica]

Hi, I’m sorry to bother but may I ask you the creator of the hair you just used in your La Madremonte sim?

Thank you in advance and it was very nice knowing something about the Colombian mythology.

Hair is by @simandy, find it HERE

#ts4 #ts4 wcif #wcif

[argent-l-p]

About Madremonte au When will you do teh oneshots of Luisa and Julietta pov of Mira and Isa living away and visiting? And can you include a Isa x Juli x Luisa bonding time fluff on it?

One Shot based on the Encanto Madremonte AU by the lovely @c-rose2081

This specific oneshot is their initial return to Casita after their resurrection from the statues and one of the visits afterwards. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Memories Remembered and Made

Julieta remembered when her oldest, her little sunflower, was still young enough to need her and deny needing that motherly help. Isabela had always been an independent child, always running in the fields her aunt had watered and constantly getting underfoot when given the chance to go into town with her mother. However, she could not have predicted just how independent she would become in the few short years after Luisa, her then youngest, was born.

She could still remember her sister racing down the street towards her, the dark cloud above her head mirroring the increasingly overcast sky, feet pounding on the stone road. She remembered the way the blood drained out of her face and the mask of worry transformed into one of sheer terror as Pepa took her arm and said, "You need to come home, Julieta! Isabela is gone and her door has dimmed!"

It didn't matter that she had left Luisa with Senora Ortiz or that she had skinned the length of her arm when she had slipped onto Casita's tiles as she flew through the front door. All that Julieta could think was that her oldest was gone and not behind the protective walls of their home. That she had let her mother keep her oldest caged, like the birds that were sold at the market, their feathers untidy and clipped to keep them from flying away; that her baby had flown away despite her wings being clipped and her very own gift seemingly turning against her. After that, all efforts to bring her sunflower home blurred together.

They searched for a long time, days bleeding into weeks, which bled into months. The entirety of the able bodied adult Madrigals and the rest of the Encanto, all of them looked for Isabela. Julieta and Agustin calling out in a daze for their wayward daughter, their calls turning into wails and screams as one by one they went unanswered. The only reason Julieta even stayed home was because she'd found out she was with child once more. Slowly, the search parties dwindled, until one day, almost a year after the fact, a cartographer found her daughters favorite blue dress. It was half buried, torn, and covered in blood.

When Alma Madrigal called her children, sat her oldest down, and mournfully presented the dress? Well, all Julieta remembered was hitting the floor and hearing a keening wail she would later know was ripped from her throat.

The years flew past, only marginally slowing down when Mirabel was born and becoming more terror induced as the patches of stone began to appear, fear causing her to isolate her family from the rest. Luisa, her little mountain, took over the main care of her sister as her mother became more and more frail looking in the wheelchair she frequently used. Rules were set, enforced, and ignored, Mirabel quickly growing and rising above the cages, looking more and more like the sister she never knew.

So when Casita crumbled to the ground and the faces of her youngest and oldest were carved into the statues within the hollow of that tree, she began to think that maybe it was cruel fate that her daughters would be ripped away from her loving embrace in the end.

Only, that wasn't how their story ended.

When Isa and Mirabel emerged from their would be tomb, it took all that Julieta was not to collapse into her wheelchair and sob. Her children had returned! After years and months of 'what if's' and 'if only's', all of her babies were together once more. But then Isa had looked at them and her heart began to sink.

Where once had been eyes that had mirrored her own, there were irises made of dim gold filled with wariness and desperation. Where ears had ended in rounded edges, tapered ends moved by their own volition, twitching at every sound they registered. Sharp fangs barred to all who stepped closer, plant life that had grown on her body stood on end making her seem larger than what her impressive height was. When Alma had tried to come towards them, a rumbling growl erupted from deep within Isabela's chest as she pushed a mildly dazed Mirabel behind her.

And that when it hit her; Isabela was protecting her sister from her family. No sooner that she had finished the train of thought, Isabela swung her sister onto her back, scaled the walls of Casita, the tiles trying to keep them inside, but it was no use. Julieta's voice, which had never gone beyond a low murmur in the past 15 years, strained itself hoarse and Luisa cried for the first time since she realized her Isa had gone missing. Their family tried to comfort them, but it was slow in effect and quick to draw their ire. What use was comfort when their missing and dead family fled from home, away from them? Did they not care? For days afterwards, they would burst into tears, ones a mixture of relief and worry. The other's, ones of fear, shame and happiness.

And then, against all perceived odds, they came home.

It had been close to dusk, the last hour of sun burning off in the horizon line. She had been at the counter making the dough for the bread, soft orange light filtering in through the open window. Head down, she hadn't expected the light to be blocked and least of all to look up into the apprehensive eyes of her sunflower as she hung down from Casita's walls with Mirabel on her back.

"Dios mío!"

Julieta couldn't believe it. Was this some cruel dream? One meant to torture her with wishes she never thought would come true? But no, her daughters didn't disappear or turn back into the statues her nightmares had forced her to witness. Isabela's eyes began to fill with mild discomfort and irritation, her body shifting to release the tension in her muscles. The quick patter of multiple pairs bare feet on tile approached and she only had time to hold out her hand to stop Isabela from fleeing.

"Julieta?!? Que paso? What's wrong? Let me- Isabela? Mirabel?" Her husbands voice, her clumsy husband who she loved, but wished at that moment would shut his mouth. Julieta turned her face slightly to address him never taking her eyes off the children fully, "I'm okay, Amor. Nothing's wrong, but please be a little more quiet?" Please stay calm. Don't move or come closer, is what she wanted to say, but with her girls so close she didn't dare say it so obviously if Isabela decided it sounded too much like threat.

She turned back to face them fully, "Would you like to come in?" Please don't leave me! Don't disappear again! Isa seemed to scan the family behind her, and at Mirabel's nudge of encouragement, she sharply nodded in assent and moved forward, further through the open window. Julieta moved her chair back, giving them room to climb inside and suddenly they were in front of her. Isa was taller than most of the family, seeing eye to eye with her other sister who trembled in the doorway, looking at them with tears in her eyes. Mirabel, who normally had her patches of stone in well hidden areas, had them dotting her body in scale like patterns, mirroring the way Isa's gift had sprouted on her own body. Everything that they had been, had changed and Julieta couldn't will herself to care at all. Her children were here and that was all that mattered.

During her inspection of them, her daughters had faced her fully, Mirabel having climbed down from her sister's back and moving forward to stand in front Isabela a hesitant look in her green eyes. Well, then. That wouldn't stand to stay. So with great dread, Julieta asked "Mirabel? Que paso?"

Mirabel, eyes filling with determination, proceeded to explain their presence. They needed food, anything that wouldn't rot away out in the Wilds and could last them as least a week. They didn't intend to stay, she thought with dismay, they were going to leave. But, hadn't they survived so long away from her motherly gaze? Had her oldest not beat the odds and survived out in the jungle thought to have claimed her life? And had her youngest not essentially raised herself away from the arms that should have protected her? Mirabel hadn't fought to stay when Isabela picked her up and fled, and she certainly hadn't come back sooner. Was this house even home for them? Did Isabela remember them? Deep in her aching, weeping soul, Julieta knew the answer to all those questions.

Turning so she faced the counter once more, where the cabinets filled with dried meat and non-perishable food was stored in the cabinets above and below, she asked, "How long do you think you can wait for me to pack up the food, bebe?" How long do you plan to stay after?

Mirabel's brief glance towards Luisa inching closer and Isabelas curling lip revealing her fangs was answer enough, "We can wait for you to pack it up and be on our way, Mami." Not any longer than we have to.

And so, Julieta got to work putting together the healing food that would hopefully keep her daughters safe, the rest of the Madrigals crowding in the doorway. The sound of cabinets opening and closing, the thumps of wrapped food dropping into the wicker basket she used to carry food, and the shifting of fabric were the only sounds accompanying her actions, that is, until she got to the sweets in the cabinets above. As she moved to stand, Luisa came forward an almost desperate expression on her face.

"Déjame ayudarte Mama! I'll get the conchas." Those had been Isabela's favorite, was left unsaid amongst those in the family who remembered the girl sneaking to swipe the pan dulce from the platters her mother made.

As Luisa moved closer, Isa pulled her youngest closer to her body, seeming to curl around her in a way that took her breath from her lungs. They look so much like the statues, she thought with no small measure of pain in her heart. When Luisa had carefully handed the bundle of pan dulce to her mother she turned from her, to her sisters looking like she might lunge for them at any moment.

Julieta put her hand on her daughters arm to still her movement and closed the basket. She smiled at them and handed it to them carefully, watching Mirabel give it Isabela who grew vines to keep it closed for the journey home, wherever that place was. Julieta watched as her mariposa climbed her sunflower and teared up as they looked at her. Golden eyes relieved to leave with no recognition of who she was in front of and green eyes sad, but filling with eagerness to do the same.

As they climbed out the window and off into the darkened jungle, their family exploded into cries calling them back. Everyone trying to talk over one another about what they could have done to convince them to stay, but Julieta just stared out after them, a small but sad smile playing on her lips.

A week later they returned, with the same request and the same time frame of stay. They came near dusk, asked for food, and left after their business was done. Then came the next week, and then the next, they returned to Casita, always through the kitchen window and always when Julieta was alone in the kitchen.

And then one day, they came during the early morning, when Julieta and Luisa were the only ones up. The sun was barely peaking through the mountain when a tap at the window drew their attention. They were hanging there waiting patiently for the window to open and when it did they climbed through, landing less than two feet away from Julieta.

"Hola, mami!"

She watched fondly as her mariposita climbed down her sister, her sunflower, who huffed as her fingers pulled a little too forcefully at her hair, "Hola, mis amores. What are you doing here so early?"

Her daughter grinned and quickly untied a bag that hung next to the basket, "We came back to get some more clothes and food! The clothes I took got dirty quickly and I need something clean to wear while I wash the rest." Isabela gave her a look leading to Mirabel sheepishly ducking her head, "And I might have accidentally used up all of our food. In my defense, I didn't think exploring near the river was that dangerous!"

And so, she sighed and let Mirabel go up to wash her clothes, leaving Isabela to stand in the kitchen inspecting the room around her. It had been the first time Luisa and her mother had been alone with Isa since she had come back and the girl-no, woman seemed the most at ease she had been during their visits; Maybe it was because the entire family wasn't there.

Turning back to the breakfast she steadfastly continued to make the meal, nudging Luisa who had her excitement and want to speak Isa barely veiled behind nonchalance. For a few minutes it was quiet, until a quiet rattle sounded close to her. At her side was Isa, closer than she had ever been before, crouching, and intently looking at the pattern of her apron. Lightly tracing the small embroidered image of a sunflower, she looked up and tilted her head and made a small sound of inquiry.

Luisa's breath hitched next to her, and Julieta put a hand on her own, "Do you like the sunflowers?" A nod of affirmation was all that answered her question and she smiled, but when she turned away in hidden disappointment a voice continued.

"Favoritos."

Luisa's eyes widened and Julieta almost jumped in surprise, but all other options as to who it could have been were all asleep. Isa had returned her gaze to the flowers, but it was clear it had been her. Isabelas voice, which was slightly deeper and rattled slightly, was the one who spoke, though her ears twitched in what appeared to be slight nervousness. She had stepped away from them in the time it took to register what she had said.

Julieta smiled, leaned forward slightly, and softly said, "They're one of my favorites too."

"And mine!" was Luisa's more exuberant response, though she softened it after Isabela pinned her ears back and her expression became a little more wary.

After a moment, her eyes softened and her lips twitched up for a second before she resumed inspection of the slowly lightening room. It became quiet once more and the two women in blue returned to making breakfast, Luisa glancing at her sister as though she wanted to say more but refrained form doing so.

As the sun climbed the sky and the rest of the household shifted in their sleep, Julieta couldn't help but think that maybe fate was being kind.

#encanto madremonte au #julieta madrigal #luisa madrigal #mirabel madrigal #isabela madrigal #madremonte au #encanto au

[queenofthedisneyverse]

What’s this burn of the jungle house AU about?👀

The burn of the jungle hearts is about Bruno leaving because of his treatment from Alma. His power was really strong because of the built-up anger and depression so he managed to split the mountains while trying to leave. This was before Mirabel was born, he was about 20 when this happened.

This caused a change in his powers and he was given the gift of nature manipulation and basically other types of magic. He walked for what seemed like hours until the candle he was holding shined very brightly and then a huge village appeared right in front of him.

The village had no people yet so it was very quiet. He saw a rather big temple near the end of the village and decided he would sleep there.

Before he could even walk up the stairs he heard screams and sounds of glass breaking. He could tell it was very far and wasn't quite sure how he could hear it but he didn't want to stand around.

He found a nearby town getting raided by raiders and just fire everywhere. The raiders had people tied up in groups ranging from women, men, and children. All were separated and crying for the other's embrace.

At the end of it, all Bruno saved about a hundred people and he brought them back to his place. Some of the people he saved were kind of skeptical of his physical appearance but they didn't want to say anything. Others thought he was some sort of male madremonte and were entirely grateful for his kindness. Bruno was used to this physical appearance.

These traits would always come out when he was upset. Claws, fangs, glowing eyes, and somewhat digitigrade legs. (just think of harpy Eda but make it Bruno). The wings were new but he didn't notice them at the moment.

Alma and his sisters were never aware of these traits because he was always cooped up in his room when it happened. He knew he had to inherit it from someone in his family but wasn't sure how to ask, so he didn't.

He took the villagers back to the village he created and everything started from there. In the future, he learned that he can give off his magic but it was unintentional. He can't stop it but the magic wasn't really painful so the villagers were ok with it.

But yeah, that's the au! the au will also focus on the movie as well but with more drama, angst, characters, and happy moments.

#the burn of the jungle hearts au #encanto au #sorry i took so long to answer #bruno magridal #au #pepa madrigal #alma madrigal #la familia madrigal #junglefamilyau

[empty-cryptid]

Hello! I'm Energycat on AO3.

At the moment I'm mostly writing Encanto fanfiction and some short stories from my experiences working as a forestry technician.

What I'm currently working on*:

Tiny Tio, Big world

When Bruno wakes up to discover he's even smaller than usual, he has to figure out how to navigate the world from a rat's point of view. And he doesn't even get the advantages of being a rat! This gives a whole other meaning to the nickname Tiny Tío.

Debut and Renew Series

(Part 1) Tio: Bruno meets his sobrinos for the first time. (Part 2) Still Tio: Bruno meets his sobrinos a second time.

12 Hours Til Sunrise

What if when Bruno, Antonio, and Mirabel climb out of the wall from behind the painting, they don't end up in the right place? Listen for the tolling bell, for after the clock strikes 12, the sun will rise.

(Encantober 2023)

*I am not including collabs because I don't want to put any pressure on my co-writers.

My oc:

Margarita Valentine

Short stories involving Señora Valentine while she's the Encanto's librarian (and maybe a little of her mysterious past if she's willing to share her adventures) *Chapters in this one will be posted out of order to keep the timeline in order*

Some completed stories:

Defeating expectation and other extraordinary acts

Bruno knows what he can do. Probably. Everyone else thinks they know what he can do. Mirabel probably has the most accurate opinion of the bunch. Everyone will be surprised. (Bruno is coaxed by the kids to show off some parkour and some of the residents of Encanto aren't happy to have him back among them after ten years.)

Healing Memories

A collection of completed one-shots with the themes of healing and memories.

Made with Love

Bruno's relationship with food after leaving the walls and after he's recovered a year later. We support a healthy pancita around here.

Madremonte's Garden and the Wakos' Cave

The triplets decide to rekindle a tradition they had before Bruno hid in the walls. Taking a hike to a special place for some sibling bonding sounds like a wonderful idea now that Bruno has returned, Casita is reborn, and the family is healing nicely. (This is my EBB story)

Fables by Firelight

Camilo decides to get all the grandkids (plus Bruno and Mariano) to gather around a fire to tell spooky stories in the dark.

And many more...

Feel free to send asks, it's always open

(#writing resources) tag for writing help/advice I reblog

#fanfiction #encanto #writing #writer #fanfics #ao3 writer