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why is no one talking about the possibilities of the madrigal family lowkey being cryptids like???? encanto gothic is RIGHT THERE
- it’s sunny. suddenly it isn’t. suddenly it is. suddenly it’s raining. hard. lighting is everywhere. you’re terrified to step outside
- your future has been seen. you cannot do anything to change it. it’s known. it is out of your hands. there’s nothing you can do, except hold the green glass in your hands
- you break your hand. you eat an arepa. your hand is working again. perfectly. too perfectly.
- you whisper a secret. you know she’s listening. you know she knows, and she knows you know. you look at her across the town and ask her under your breath to not tell a soul. she knows everything you’ve every said
- the rock is 10 times your size, and it’s flying into the air, like a feather. she catches it and snaps it because it is a feather in her hands. it’s a rock, and if you tried to catch it, it would snap you
- you look across the street and see yourself, walking the other way. talking to other people. you hear your own voice in your ears. you disappear in the crowd
- there are flowers everywhere. between the cracks in the sidewalks and inside walls and busting outside of pots. you’re afraid to touch it in case it’ll break. it grows bigger and stronger and taller than you
- the birds are flying in a perfect pattern. they dive in synchronization. it’s too perfect. they land in order. they chirp and he answers. he’s sitting on a tiger. the tiger looks at you and you walk away
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