I love Isabela and I think her and Mirabel's relationship is so neat.
Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts, implying suicide attempts, implied self harm, references to sexual stuff.
————————————————————Flowers taste like acid in her tongue.
Nerium Oleander.
Aconitum.
Snake Lily.
Rafflesia Arnoldii.
Foxglove.
Belladonna.
These were just a few of the many poisons, deadly flowers, that Isabela grows. A bitter taste is left on her tongue as she eats the flowers. They don't affect her, god she wishes it does.
Vines grow and twist along her body, around her wrist and neck. Sharp thorns prick at her skin. The air is thick from the different flowers that are in her room. If someone were to look inside her room, all they would see are roses, but under the surface the other flowers hid. Just like a corpse in a garden. Except this corpse isn't dead yet. Isabela thinks.
Sometimes Isabela thinks she should be consumed, buried underground under the flowers. Isabela thinks she's not human. She can make plants grow with a wave of her hand. She can feel flowers budding under her skin, in her bones and blood. Can the flowers tangle her organs? Can her plants go into her skin and sink there thorns in her heart? Can they suffocate her?Sometimes she forgets to breathe, or she gets tired in the dark, she moves slowly, and drinks lots of water, she forgets to eat sometimes as well. She's like a living plant that took a human form. Isabela thinks she's like a Greek Nymph. She has to be, there is no other explanation for why she has this gift, why she had to be perfect, why she feels so..... hollow.
Isabela thinks of death and plants and she scratches, scratches, scratches at her arms and legs, to feel a bit of pain to distract her. These imperfections, these morbid and macabre thoughts, they give her meaning. She desperately wants to be perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect granddaughter, the perfect mother and wife.Maybe Isabela is a Greek tragedy instead.
Blood pulls and drips into the flowers. Bright red stains soft pink. The bitter taste keeps itching her mouth and throat. Isabela feels like a modern Ophelia, only instead of water she drowning in flowers. Would she be seen as a symbolic figure if she were to die in the flowers? Or as a tragic girl, not a women, someone innocent and pure.
Isabela don't think she's pure.
Laying on her bed, in the flowers, Isabela pushes with all her strength and let's her emotions go wild. Cryptantha, Encenillo trees, Flor de Mayo, Palma de Cera, sundews, catctus, heliconias. The all plants grow out of her body, she can feel then tear and pull at her skin, can feel the roots twist and wrap around her bones and organs, she can feel blood lightly pouring out. Her body is uses as a ecosystem, would she still be alive if the plants overtake her body? Death is a garden and her body is the soil.
As the flowers and plants grow Isabela feels like she's in nirvana or euphoric. The feeling of doing something dangerous, inappropriate, taste like freedom. Taste bitter. She can feels her eyes roll back, static seems to numb her body as the flowers keep springing up. She keep going more and more, even when her body tells her to stop. Even when bruises blossom and her body twitches.
Lilies, white and yellow ones travel along her skin, they cluster around her throat and chest, they clusters around her inner thighs and around her hips.
YOU ARE READING
Edgy Encanto Ideas (slaughter lambs)
FanfictionRandom one-shots, AU, and things about Encanto. Sent in request or ask! Like my other story, Random Encanto Ideas, but these are center around dark/sad/morbid stories.