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fallingintolife · 2 years ago

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Mother Knows Best

Request: hi, i'm the anon that requested the sam winchester shopping fic ft dean! i hope you don't mind me requesting another sam one lol ( i don't see a lot of sam ones tbh so when i saw that you write for sam too i got excited :'D ) could the reader be a hunter that ran away from home because they have a narcissistic / manipulative mother ( kind of like mother gothel from tangled ) and started traveling with sam and dean because they felt safe with them , as well as dating sam ? one day while being out it turns out the reader's mother was in the same town , looking for them to try and bring them back home , and reader gets all scared because they don't want to go back which sam and dean notice just some good old fashion angst and hurt / comfort :)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Abusive mother, panic attack description

Summary: Dean said it best, "Monsters I get. People are crazy!"

Word Count: 1,875

A/N: Let me start off by saying I am so so so so so sorry this took as long as it did for me to post! I really have enjoyed writing on this prompt unfortunately life just got in the way but I hope that you do end up seeing this and reading it. I do hope that it was worth the wait...

Sending love 💕, hugs 🥰, and positive vibes ✨

When it came to being a hunter, there were a few unspoken rules. One of them being that no one asked anyone about their past; such as: how they got into hunting or any personal questions period. So when Sam met you while doing research in a public library for a hunt, which you helped solve, none of those questions were asked. Of course they made sure to test you to make sure you weren't a werewolf or demon or any other monster but after all the tests were negative you came along with them on hunts. At first you stayed in the motel room next door, but after a couple months you stayed with the boys in their room.

You'd been with the boys for eight months now, dating Sam for four of them. Even though Sam and Dean didn't ask you about your past they both had noticed different little habits that you did that showed them that your life wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. Sam noticed that you hated giving your opinion or making any decisions. Dean noticed that any time he would yell or even just raise his voice in the slightest you would go into a complete panic. Noises in general seemed to send you into high alert. You were also very timid, not just in public but even still with them to an extent. And touching. You didn't like to be touched. Dean had gone to ruffle your hair once but after he saw you flinch and even braced for, what he assumed was for him to hit you…they avoided touching you. After that Sam let you initiate any kind of touch or affection that you wanted. He had gathered that you must have been in an abusive relationship at some point in your life and that maybe you were running away from them when they found you.

You were starting to open up some though. Sam was really happy to see you for you. He got to see what movies you liked and what kind of books you liked to read, and also just hear you talk about anything and everything.

You loved being with the boys. Even though the hunting itself was scary, living the hunter lifestyle was somehow better than your life before. You didn't remember a lot from when you were young growing up. (probably because your mind thought it was too much and too traumatic…) It had always just been you and your mom. She always hated you. You didn't know why, she simply just did. That was how it had always been. She knew how to cut you down in a second, how to quickly make you doubt yourself, and shit was she a master at guilting you! She knew you; all of your weaknesses and she used them against you anyway and any time she wanted.

The day you had run away was when you realized she had taken all the money you had hidden away and she had found it and spent it; all of it. She has ransacked your room looking for money and when you confronted her about it she didn't apologize, (which part of you knew she wouldn't, she never had before) she actually turned the tables on you, gaslighting you up, and playing the victim. For whatever reason that was when you had clarity: she was a narcissist and no matter what you did it would never be enough. So you ran. Now, eight months later you were traveling with the Winchester's helping on hunts.

You hadn't even been hunting, or rather researching, for long but when they saw you as an asset they let you come along with them. (After some begging and pleading and then the promise of taking them to the best diner in the city…) Sam intimidated you at first but then you realize that he was just a sweet/awkward/loveable goofball. Dean was also very caring towards you. They both made you feel safe, but Sam was your safe place.

Sam had always been so patient and understanding since you both had first met. Sam didn't ask questions or say that you were overreacting or being a drama queen when you would start to panic about something, he would just calmly apologize (which in itself was always quite startling since your mom had never done that once in her life…) and help you calm down. Sam never made you feel like you were a burden or too much, he and Dean on many occasions, would remind you that you were none of those things and they were happy that you decided to travel with them.

You and the boys were on your way back to Bobby's after a hunt when Dean stopped at a diner for lunch.

"Dean, you realize every diner is going to advertise they have the best pie." Sam stated as he rolled his eyes. You tried to hide your laughter, as you hid your face in his jacket.

"Yes and as a pie expert Sammy it's my job to find the best one." Grinning back at Sam, Dean went to the hostess so they could be seated. Just as you were about to joke with Sam was when you saw her. You froze. How did she know you were here? Had she been following you? No no no. This couldn't be happening…

Sam immediately felt you tense. He looked down at you puzzled, when he saw the look in your eyes. Terror and fear. Was there a monster in here? Or…was the person that caused you so much trauma here?

"Y/N?" He felt you tremble against him when you spoke his name but your eyes remained locked on whatever was the cause of your current state. "It's okay baby I've got you. I'm right here. You're safe." Speaking softly to you, he gently wrapped his arms around your back hugging you to him. Your entire body was quaking underneath him. He needed to get you out of here; now.

"Hey love birds, come on table's re-" Dean stopped sentence when he saw you both. His hunter instincts kicked in immediately. He followed your locked gaze to see a woman staring back at you. Dean walked back over to the two of you while looking at Sam.

"I don't know, I just want to get her back to the car." Dean nodded as they all got back in the Impala, this time Sam with you in the backseat.

You knew the boys were talking about you, about wherever had just happened and what to do next but it sounded like they were underwater. Your chest felt like it was being crushed by an anvil and your vision was really fuzzy…

"Y/N!" You tried to focus as you looked up at Sam. He was talking to you, or at least you thought he was because you could see his lips moving. You squinted trying to read his lips, "Breathe. I need you to breathe baby." Oh. You were having a panic attack. You put your head against his chest as you tried to breathe in sync with him. After what felt like hours you began to crash from your adrenaline rush wearing off.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Sammy. I don't- I don't know how she found me. My fault…it's my fault." You mumbled, eyes closing before you could hear Sam ask what you were talking about.

Sam had just gotten you into the motel room that Dean had found just two minutes down the road. You had been in a full panic in the car, having one of the worst panic attacks he had seen you have in a long time. When Sam noticed you were about to pass out was when Dean made the decision to drive to the motel. Just as Sam tucked you in was when Dean walked in.

"She okay?" Shaking his head as he recklessly ran his fingers through his hair, Sam began to pace.

"I don't know. I've never seen her react like that Dean, never. And she, she was apologizing about someone finding her?" Dean walked over and led Sam back to the bed.

"We'll figure this out, okay? She's gonna be okay Sammy." Sam nodded, laying down next to you and hoping Dean was right.

After a couple hours you woke up with a start, sitting straight up.

"Whoa, whoa! It's just me Y/N! It's Sammy." When you heard Sam's voice you immediately leaned into him for comfort as you took in your surroundings. "We're at a motel." You nodded, relaxing a bit. Dean was sitting on the bed watching a western, after twenty minutes went by when you finally spoke.

"My mom. My mom was who…who I saw in the diner." You admitted quietly, playing with your fingers you were more starting down at. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Your mom was who scared you?" You nodded, still staring at your fingers. Sam gently rubbed circles on your back as he softly whispered, "It's okay. You're safe. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." A few minutes of silence went by when you gathered up the courage to speak.

"When I met Sam in the library, I was doing research about demons. Not because I was a hunter but because I thought, well…kind of…God this sounds awful." A bitter laugh left your lips as you shook your head, tears steadily fell down your cheeks. "I had run into hunters before, heard my share of stories about demons and so I was hoping there was something I missed, something that I didn't test on her right because there was no way she wasn't a demon. I mean who could just treat their child so, so awful unless they were a demon?"

Shit. Sam and Dean had both had it all wrong. You weren't running from an abusive boyfriend. You were running from your abusive mom. Sam pulled you into his chest holding you tightly against him as he tried to calm you.

"I'm so sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry." He whispered.

Dean just shook his head in disgust.

"I've said it once and I'll say it again: demons, hell even monsters I get! But people," He shook his head as he laughed bitterly. "People are crazy."

An hour went by before everyone seemed to settle when you sat up and began to speak.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys from the beginning about what was going on…"

"Hey, there is nothing to apologize for. You didn't have to tell us anything." Shushing you, Sam pulled you back into his lap, gently placing your hair behind your ear.

"Sam's right. Look, whatever happened is in the past. You've got us now." You looked from Dean to Sam confused.

"You mean…you want me to stay?" Sam looked at you befuddled before his face softened.

"Of course, but only if you want to." A smile slowly grew on your face.

"Yes. I most definitely want to." You wrapped your arms around him. Like Bobby had always said, "Family don't end in blood." And these boys, they were your family.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #spn fic #supernatural fic #spn fic request #supernatural request #anon request #i am so so sorry for the delay #i really hope you do like it though...#♥️

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year ago

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Hm... You know, you often compare yandere Wheezy to Mother Gothel. What if the situation between him and Y/N was something similarly to Mother Gothel and Rapunzel too?

Like maybe you two have known each other your whole lives. Or at least it feels like it (depending on when you guys met. Like high school or childhood or something). So it just felt natural to you when eventually you guys moved in together. It felt like a normal relationship had blossomed between you two. Granted, it was pretty lonely since everyone you get to know seems to leave one way or another... But you got your Wheezy. And he's got you. People say that as long as you have each other, it should be enough.

(And perhaps your Flynn Rider- perhaps a certain green weasel 👀- comes along when Wheezy isn't around for some reason. You get to hang out with somebody that isn't your boyfriend. And you realize how much of this you missed... And a lot more about your relationship.)

!! I cant believe this has taken me so long to respond to 😅😅 Especially since I am minorly obsessed with Gothel-YanWheezy semblance! XD I think I probably saw it during Placement but cuz of everything that was going on I just kindof... flew over it. I'm sorry, here have waffle 🧇

I- love- this! Wheezy keeping you for himself?? Wheezy manipulating his childhood friend into being his girlfriend- live-in fiancé- then wife?!! And Greasy being Y/N's secret flirty friend!???? So terrible and wholesome !

I know this isn't what you were talking about, but I couldn't help myself. Here's basically that scene at the end of Tangled when Rapunzel/Y/N tells Gothel/Wheezy that she'll stay, and be good, and never ever try to escape... so long as she's allowed to save Flynn/Greasy.

Yandere!Wheezy Weasel x Reader x Greasy Weasel || Drabble

*this Wheezy kinda gives off the same vibes as Otis in this specific gif, so... 😅

Plot: ->

"No! I wont stop. For every minute of the rest of my life, I will fight! I will never stop trying to get away from you! ... But if you let me save him,.. I will go with you. I'll never run, I'll never try to escape. Just let me heal him, and you and I will be together. Forever, just like you want."

Warnings: Greasy has gunshot wounds in his abdomen, gets his fingers crushed, and gets ash in his eyes. Wheezy puts you down and is, yaknow, a monster- Also it's unedited right now.

"Y/N, c'mon." The tone in Wheezy's voice is calm as ever, relaxed, even bored; But the way his teeth are grit despite not having a smoke in his mouth right now and how his knuckles are white gripping the rope wrapped tightly around his strong fist gives him clean away. His eyes flash behind a wall of smoke, down at you- and Greasy. On the ground. "Time to finish up, here. Timeta go. He's not goin' anywhere."

Tears are overflowing in your eyes, on the ground by Greasy- He's still sitting up but he's bleeding out fast, the bullet holes in his stomach turning his green suit a deep red. Almost black. He clutches the wound and glares up at Wheezy, but his eyes soften when they turn down to you again; Noticing you crying over him. "Mi amore... wipe yo- " As soon as Greasy attempts to reach over and comfort you, Wheezy steps lazily on his hand creeping along the ground. Not only does he step down but he slowly crushes the bones before your wide, horrified eyes. Its a small sign of uncharacteristic spitefulness, viciousness that is so unlike him, a side of him you swear you swear you swear you didn't know about. You swear. You want Greasy to know that! You desperately try to tell him that, with your eyes, because Wheezy would surely hurt him worse if you said them outload. "... its okay." He continues, voice cracking through the unimaginable pain. He's somehow still as off-puttingly charming as ever and it makes you wish you weren't so hopelessly blind about Wheezy even harder. God!-

If you had been aware, caught the red flags, noticed everything that Wheezy must have been doing all this time- even just one thing- then you never would have brought Greasy into this, never would have befriended him, never would've ever responded to his dumb cheap flattery. You would have pushed right by him that day you met and he would've felt the sting of rejection but that would have been it. Neither of you would have fallen in as ill-fated love as you have, he wouldn't be bleeding now, he wouldn't die- "Y/N, get up."

... Sniffling, you shake your head. "No, I- Ah!" As soon as you shook your head, Wheezy had rolled his eyes up and yanked at the rope- which is tied to your wrists behind your back.

"Gettin' on my nerves, doll... move your ass."

"No, Wheezy, he'll- " Finally turning and looking at your- at Wheezy, you flash a defiant glare. Theirs a desperate tone in your voice and you wonder why you still think he'll listen. He's not your Wheezy anymore. He's someone else entirely. Why are you still begging him?? "He'll die!" Because you dont have a choice. Greasy will die here.

"Yeah... kinda the point." After heaving a smoky sigh, and not even seeming to notice Greasy's glower up at him (Or not caring), Wheezy flicks the flat of his cap up his forehead and picks a loose smoke out from behind his ear; sticking it between his teeth and searching for his lighter in his pockets. "Sweetheart I think maybe you're not gettin' this." Finding the lighter, Wheezy carefully lights his cigarette; the end glowing, now. "That's alright, I guess," He thinks outloud, giving a tiny and half asses shrug as he folds the smoke and his hand back into his pant pocket. "'ts better if yer dumb."

"I- I'm no- "

"Yeah, y'kinda are." He huffs out a sigh, and dirty, stinky smoke flies out the corners of his mouth. You know he's referring to all those years he played you, and it shuts you up. Maye he's right...

God-

"No. No no no, Y/N, you are no- you are not dumb. Listen to me- ah," Struggling and grimacing, Greasy drags himself with his good hand a few inches closer to you. Then he uses that hand to squeeze his bullet wounds - which, now that you're looking at him again through the tears, have really done a number on him. The bags under his eyes are disgustingly deep... its makes your guts ache. He's going to die here and its all your fault, - and his useless, broken hand to reach for you once again. He never learns!- "You're very intelligent. Don't listen to him, listen to me. Its going to be o- " You're just wondering, wide eyed, how he can still be comforting you right now when Wheezy kicks his hand away, causing Greasy to growl and squeeze his eyes shut, forcing the pain away.

"... Damn. Grease, you really are fucken something. How many times have I toldya over the years just ta keep your hands ta yerself?? If you'd listened to me, we wouldn't be here."

Breathing through the pain, making his voice steady somehow, Greasy cracks his eyes open; Glancing upwards to Wheezy with a disgusting feral look in his eyes. "Mark my words, fumador... I am going to ruin you, for this."

Looking immeasurably bored, shoulders dropped and eyes half-hooded as he takes his smoke out between two of his fingers and blows out a cloud of grey, Wheezy shakes his head. "Ehhh, somehow I doubt it... "

Wheezy looks thoughtful for a moment at his cig, before shrugging like why not? and - without looking at either of you, - taps some hot, dusty ash directly into Greasy's eyes off the end before flicking the rest away to the ground. Greasy hisses and lets go of his abdomen in order to wipe the bloody heels of his hands into eyes to get the burning hot ash out of his eyes as hurriedly get a tissue from your pocket and go to help him, but-

"Uh uh uh," Wheezy wraps the rope a few more times around his hand and his wrist and forces you up onto your feet, digging his fingers into the back of waist band and holding you still. "Come on, lets go."

"No!" The rope around your waist digs through your shirt into your skin and the rope winding up your forearms rub but you fight- try not to move- not to leave- but now that you're on your legs its harder to stay still. Wheezy's tall, and his limbs are long and sinewy and like rock, and so far he hasn't even tried to use that against you.

"Fightin' it's just gonna make it worse, (Nickname). And whether ya believe it or not, I do not get my kicks outta this." Just behind you, you feel him shrug again; against your back. "Jus' not my idea of a Saturday night, I guess. I will hurt ya if y'make me, though."

"Let me- "

"Are you gonna ask me to let ya go??" He sounds genuinely disappointed, groaning, like he's watching a soap and his favourite character did something ill-advised that he disapproves of. He's acting like he's on a job Smartass forced him into! Like he's only half here- have on the back porch smoking a couple packs. Like ruining your life and killing his best friend is just shit that he's 'gotta do'. "C'mon, doll, you're better then tha- "

"Let me save him."

This gives Wheezy pause. You're not facing him so you turn, wanting to see how he's taking that and why he's so silent, catching him looking cold and vicious again. Those blue eyes have never looked icier, and his jaw is set tight, and he has never seemed taller. Right now he's like 30 story skyscraper. You feel so small... until- "Nope."

He tries again to walk off with you but you glance at Greasy, head bowed against the ground and the puddle of his own blood around him, just trying to focus on breathing slowly, and your heart sinks. You know you can't leave him like that. You absolutely can't. You love hi-

Mm. Setting a determined look on your face, you grab Wheezy- yanking back to you by his vest and holding on tight. You need him to look at you, you need him to pay attention. You need him to listen to you.

Once last time. One last time, Wheezy... please, please...

Once, at some point, he must have really loved you in that soft way that you're supposed to love people- where you want them to be happy and want you back- and he has to have a little bit of that left. You have to believe that he does, at least. Because that is the part you need to hear you, right now.

"If you don't let me save him I will be trying to get away from you for the rest of our lives. You will never catch a break. You will never rest. Because the moment you do, I will be out the window trying to get back... to him... " Tightening your grip even more on his vest as Wheezy looks unimpressed, you go on; vanquished and gone of all your fight, all but a little bit. Enough to save Greasy. "... But if you do let me... "

"Nn... Y/N, no- "

When you don't go on, scared of what you're about to say and horrified at Greasy's state, Wheezy narrows his eyes at you to spur you to go on again. Taking a deep breath, you look away from Greasy and give Wheezy a quiet, sincere nod; brushing your foreheads together you're so close. "-If you let me heal him, then we can go together, and I will not try to escape. I will never, ever, leave you... We can fall in love again. I can do that! I will do it." You nod again, assuring you and him. Tears gather in your eyes but they just prove you're telling the truth, so you let them go. "You can have everything you want, we can go wherever you want, I'll be whoever you me to be...

Just let me heal him."

You search his eyes for a full minute, waiting for him to respond. Your tears fall down your cheeks and he watches them go and drip down off your chin onto the collar of your shirt, thinking... until his gaze nudges upwards to your eyes again; chewing something in the back of his mouth. "Fall back in love with me, huh? Y'can do that?"

Sniffling, you carefully nod. "Yes." Or something like love. Something disgusting, but similar. He wont be able to tell the difference.

Wheezy's icy, slate-grey eyes scrutinise you up so close, and you hold your breath- and you hold him, because he's holding all the cards and that's all you can do.

#you'll notice that wheezy chucks out a cigerette he only just started in this 😂😂#there is your true sign that he is 'different' here XD #Wheezy Weasel #Wheezy Weasel x Reader #Greasy Weasel #Greasy Weasel x Reader #Disney Villains #Drabble #Disney Villains x Reader #Yandere

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splendentmoon · 1 year ago

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IDo you know that one scene in Rapunzel where Rapunzel promises Gothel to stay with her if she lets Eugen go ? I just had to think about the Jade Prince in this situation (because I live this au 🥹!) and here is the result :

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Macaque and Wukong find themselves surrounded by celestial warriors, dozens of spears pointing at them. The emperor has created a binding seal, trapping the two monkeys in place. Even the great sage is powerless against the might of the man who holds the very fabric of the realm together. Emperor be damned.

MK struggles against the guards, their iron grip preventing him from escaping and helping the monkey demons – his parents.

Jade emperor: Now look what you've done, Yu. Oh don't worry dear. We will find a nice mountain for those two insufferable demons to trap them under. Permanently. And as for you? You are going where no one will ever find you, again.

In a desperate struggle, MK fights even more against the guards hold. His blindfold slips off, unveiling the burned upper half of his face – the unsightly, imperfect side. His shame. The part his grandfather wishes to hide.

Jade emperor: YU, REALLY! ENOUGH ALREADY! STOP. FIGHTING ME!

MK: NO! I won't stop.

Looking directly the emperor in the eyes, his golden eyes shine against the red, burned scars surrounding them.

MK: For every minute of the rest of my life I will fight. I will never stop trying to get away from you….But, if you spear them.. I will go with you.

Macaque: No. No, Xiaotian...

MK: I'll never run, I'll hide my imperfections and never try to escape.

He lifts the blindfold from the ground, showing his choice to hide the scars and everything they stand for. He turns off his gold vision. He will never show his monkey features or abilities ever again. Everything that could link him to his loving and kind parents must be erased and hidden.

He puts the blindfold over his eyes to show his resolve to distance himself from his monkey origin. Giving the emperor what he wants.

MK: Just let them go. And I will stay in the palace. Forever, just like you want. Everything will be the way it was. I promise. Just like you want. Just let them go.

Jade emperor: I know you always keep your promises. Fine, I shall grant you your wish. The monkeys will be taken to earth and all gateways to heaven will remain shut, to forbid them from ever causing havoc in the celestial real ever again.

Wukong: No, Xiaotian! Don’t do that. We will find another way! We can still save you and take you away from this prison ! Don’t throw away your life. Please!

Rapunzel: Everything is going to be fine. I promise, you have to trust me.

MK forced a calming smile on his face and looked at the direction his father was speaking from. He was glad to not being able to see in that moment. Hearing the desperation in Monkey Kings voice was already tearing his heart apart. The look on his face would surely break him and he can’t do that. Not now. Not when his grandfather is willing to let them go. It doesn’t matter what Yu wants. It never has. He need to be perfect for everyone. He can’t show any cracks in front of the emperor as long as the two monkeys are still in danger. So he smiles. Standing perfectly straight. Standing still…like a doll. Perfect little Yu, the Jade prince, the delight of heaven, the emperors most precious treasure. Not MK, or Xiaotian or himself. Endure, don’t crack, don’t crack don’t crack don’t crack.

Wukong: No...I can't let you do this.

MK (wispers): But I can't let you die.

Wukong: But if you do this...

He couldn’t bring himself to finish.

Macaque answered in his place.

"Then you...will die.“

Tears rolling down his cheeks.

Yu's shock slowly faded as the gravity of the words sank in. They still confused him. He wasn’t going to die. His grandfather loves him. He would never kill him, he would just forbid him from leaving the palace. Yes he would be cut off from Mei and the friends he found on earth and…never taste piggy’s food again or hear Mr. Tangs funny stories and wrong legends about the celestials. Bai He, Sandy, Red Son, EVERYONE. They would be separated from him. Forever. Suddenly Yu understood. This choice he was about to make would in fact kill him. But not like a death sentence. Even worse, a life sentence in this prison of the celestial realm. Is this truly living, he wondered, trapped, alone and without the people he loved ? No. No this can’t be living. His father was right. He was choosing death. Yet he didn’t fear it. Knowing that his family and friends are save is enough. He would suffer an eternal life for them.

MK: Hey. It's gonna be all right.

Wukong: Xiaotian, wait...

Macaque: Please, my baby, don’t…

MK: I am the Jade Emperor and you will address me as such. Farewell monkeys. Forever

Would you believe me if I told you that while I was reading this, I was listening to the song "Mother Knows Best" in my head?

That result was, it was amazing!!!

I read it at least 15 times!

Bravo! Bravo! That would be a story I would read!

God, you gave me ideas for future chapters! Thank you!

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satansonlysister · 8 months ago

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Analyzation of Anna from Frozen

So I saw a tweet about how Anna is Rapunzel if she failed at being quirky and I cannot understand how the hell you want to compare two girls who have never spoken to people outside of those in their 'cage' and say they HAVE to be the same in levels of quirkiness. So I shall go over their points and discuss them. Mind you, my two favorite movies of all time are Tangled and Frozen 2. I've watched them so many times that I can replay the voices in my head.

Anna is too trusting

Now I must say this take is so stupid. Like yes she is too trusting but HOW IS SHE NOT? First, if we are comparing her to Rapunzel, that's stupid fully. Rapunzel was manipulated into not being trusting of others by Mother Gothel. There was a whole song about it. Anna didn't have the whole stranger danger talk with her parents most likely and even if she did, they died when she was younger like 16 I want to say. She didn't see anyone other than servants who wouldn't tell the princess how to act around strangers as they don't have a connection with them. Honestly her falling for Hans was the most normal thing rather than 'quirky'. She read books and fantasized about romance so much that of course she jumped onto the first guy that showed her love. Love bombing anyone?

2. Anna as a character is flat

Now do I have to explain everything? First, Anna is optimistic because she is a dreamer period. She is optimistic like Rapunzel yes. She wasn't 'abused' no but you can be optimistic without being abused. Hell, I have a lot of friends who are the optimism to my realism and they have a loving family. The tweet also says that Anna is naive with no reason for it. There is a reason? The similarity with Anna and Rapunzel is both were locked away from the world. They both only had their books to depend on. The main difference between them has to do with Anna being more trusting than Rapunzel. Mother Gothel downplayed Rapunzel so that Rapunzel would DEPEND on her. Anna never felt wrong for dreaming while Rapunzel did as she was manipulated. Anna was optimistic cause of the books she read. If all you had from the outside world was romantic books that the world is not scary at all, you would be naive, trusting, and optimistic. Rapunzel was always warned that the world was scary and to trust no one other than Gothel. Saying that Anna is flat is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.

3. She is overshadowed by Elsa which makes her a failure

Okay either this user doesn't have siblings or isn't the middle child. As a middle kid, do you know how often you can be overshadowed by your siblings? My little sister is super smart and is going into foresnics as well as playing two different sports. My dad tends to dot on her way more than me and I am fine with that cause she DESERVES praise for her work. In this case, I am the Anna to my sister's Elsa. Let's start with Anna's character arc in the first movie. She started off very immature due to her lack of physical attention. Yes, she did get attention from her parents but all she seriously wanted was her sister. I literally sob everytime in Frozen where they look at each other from afar and Anna's face drops when she sees her sister LEAVE HER LIFE. Just imagining one day that my sister could just leave and she won't tell me makes me feel so shitty. Anna's optisim cames from a dream where she wants to be together with her sister. That's all she ever wanted. To be a family again. When her sister finally leaves, she tries really hard to try and understand why her sister left. She gets frustrated because she doesn't know. I can go over the whole movie step by step but we haven't even got to Frozen 2. Anna's arc is that she wanted to understand her sister better and she assumed the best way to do that is talk it out as, any reader of romance would know, miscommunication sucks. Elsa couldn't communicate because she felt that if they got close again it would hurt Anna and by pushing Anna away and not communicating, it only hurt them both more... literally. Anna also didn't trust Kristoff at first since he wasn't a prince. A lot of books I read say that princes are these regal men who wouldn't hurt a soul. And Anna romantized her parents relationship. Anna didn't truly need a character arc other than realizing her nativity and optistim tends to hurt others. She literally sacrificed her life for her sister when she could save herself and she chose herself. Literally like wtf.

Frozen 2 is more her season. There was an arc to be made between the two. She is till pushy with Elsa as she was before but she knows that communication is important, something Elsa lacks in. She is constantly worried about her sister that she puts herself at risk now to save her sister as she is JUST as impulsive as Elsa. Anna now has separation anxiety since first of all, she almost DIED in the first film and on top of that, her parents died, her sister locked herself away and now that her sister isn't locked away, she is worried that her sister will leave her again. At the end of the movie, she realizes that her sister is always a short distance away and that her sister can take care of herself. Anna is MATURE at the end of the film. Literally you can see it by how she presents herself.

Final Thoughts

When I first watched Frozen 1, It was when I was still living with my abusive mother. I actually watched both Frozen 1 and Rapunzel with my abusive mother with me. I only stayed with her because I was worried once I left, my sister would struggle to leave or my sister would get hit instead of me. My sister struggles with communication in a nice way as well as trusting others. She isn't very optimistic so growing up, I was the optimistic one for both of us. My mother would never let me leave the house nor have friends. Same to my sister but my mother was always dotting on my sister so I was fully alone. When I watched Tangled, I saw a bit of myself in Rapunzel but I saw a bit more of my sister in Rapunzel. When Frozen came out, I thought for sure I was Elsa but now that I am older, I am more like Anna than all three of them. To my sister, I may seem more like a mix of Anna and Elsa but I have never been Rapunzel as my mother's abuse wasn't nearly as warping to me as Mother Gothel was towards Rapunzel. Mind you, I never loved my mother but my sister did. Of course, none of us can be Rapunzel unless we were kidnapped at birth.

People who hate Anna either don't have a sibling who they are fully devoted to or they simply don't understand that siblings can grow differently than each other. Keep in mind we never saw how the parents treated Anna after Elsa was locked away. ALSO the poster said that Elsa was abused yet she wasn't? The trolls told the parents that Elsa's powers harm and Elsa full blown believed it too. If her parents didn't put her in the room, Elsa would have done it herself. She almost killed her little sister who she is VERY close to. If she was able to control those powers, she wouldn't lock herself away but no one ever taught her. The trolls never tried to say "ya you can control them with love" since they NEVER SAW IT! Also the parents DIED trying to figure out how to have Elsa control her powers. They were willing to travel across seas for Elsa. But what about Anna? Do you think they had time for her between regal duties and trying to help Elsa? Maybe they shouted at her out of anger. Every time Anna is singing her 'DO you want to build a snowman?' the King and Queen are no where to be found. She is alone.

Anyways thanks for listening yall. I just cant ever shut up about the two movies. Also, never try and compare two DIFFERENT characters and get surprised when they are different. If its Ariel versus Live Action Ariel then that's fine since they are the same character but Rapunzel and Anna went through two different lives. There is no confirmed way to tell how they would act in each other shoes cause they aren't each other.

#frozen #frozen 2 #queen iduna #anna #elsa #frozen fever #tangled #rapunzel

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pixiedust111 · 1 year ago

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Rapunzel into the Multiverse! (Part-2)

(Continued)

"Mother!" A surprised utterance escaped her mouth.

"Where am I?" Rapunzel finally started to believe she was in a dream. That's why Gothel was back; there couldn't be any other reason...

"At our home!" Gothel answered, lighting up the candle.

Rapunzel looked around again in the dim light of the candle. She was more convinced it was a dream as she discovered her 70 feet of long hair were back—or had never been cut at all. She was having that nightmare again!

"But this is not the tower," Rapunzel said to Gothel, her curiosity piqued.

"No, it's not. It's our new home. Here, nobody will find us, ever," Gothel replied impatiently as she cleaned dirt and spider webs with a broom.

"Did she bring the broom too?" Rapunzel wondered, feeling a bit surprised. She found herself thinking about trivial things when there were more pressing concerns.

"It's confirmed, I'm dreaming," Rapunzel thought. "That's why I'm fixating on useless things."

Suddenly, she felt a blunt pain as she tried to move her arms. Gothel had pinioned her and likely secured the chain somewhere.

"Could you please unchain me?" Rapunzel begged.

"No, dear. I'm sorry. After all you've done, I can't take the risk again," Gothel replied with a grin.

"You will be like this, forever. This is your destiny," Gothel declared, leaving for another room.

As the vision became clearer, Rapunzel began inspecting the room she was in. "When will I awaken?" she sighed.

Squeak!

"What?"

A familiar sound!

It was Pascal! But, wow, he looked different. Why was he orange, with random dots on his skin?

Pascal quickly climbed onto Rapunzel's shoulder. It seemed like he was trying to figure something out. He held something in his hand. Wait! He was trying to pick her handcuff!

Clang!

He did it! She was free!

"Oh, thank you so much, Pascal. My hero!"

"But what now? Where do we go?" she whispered.

Pascal squeaked.

Rapunzel understood he was asking her to follow him.

Silently, she started following Pascal.

Oh! There's a door! Pascal climbed to the doorknob and tried to pick the lock.

"Click!" No, it didn't open.

"Rapunzel!"

Oh dear! Gothel suspected something was happening. She ran back to where she was before and sat as if she was still shackled.

Gothel entered the room and examined her with sharp eyes. Rapunzel tried to pretend hard. If only she had her frying pan!

"Where's Eugene, Mother?" Rapunzel asked, trying to divert Gothel's attention. She was worried about Eugene.

"Probably in the grave," Gothel replied coldly.

Rapunzel felt a cold wave run down her spine.

"What?! No! He'd come for me!"

"How? They probably hanged him by this time. Why are you talking like a dork?" Gothel sneered. "Maybe it's my fault, I overdosed on the sleeping pill!"

"So Eugene didn't come? He..." Rapunzel was startled with panic.

"But, it's a dream, right?" Rapunzel tried to calm herself down.

To be continued

N.B. This is not a real fanfiction, I wrote it as I was trying to improve my English (since it's really bad)! But, here is a spoiler; it's about parallel universe where Rapunzel is trapped inside an alternate universe where everything went wrong and she must find a way to return to her known world.

#pixiesdiary #tangled #rapunzel #eugene #gothel #new dream #tangled fanfiction

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xiaolindude · 6 months ago

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Over breakfast, amidst the regular family chatter, Rai cleared his throat.

"Miss Solaris will be visiting with us today," he told them, forcing his voice to be casual even as his blood thrummed with excitement.

Thiago scoffed. "'Miss Solaris'? You remain so formal, brother, please. When will you let up and simply call her Rapunzel?"

Rai chose to ignore this and focused instead on his mother; Sofia looked concerned as she finished her sip of tea.

"Darling, I do not have enough baking supplies, I should--"

Raising a hand to cut her off, Rai shook his head. "She is not coming for baking, or so speak with Ela or anything like that. She is coming to see me." That was it. All there was to it.

"Hardly proper," said Izabel with a small frown at her breakfast.

"We are courting. Should we not be spending time getting to know one another?"

His siblings left him alone after that, but Sofia cornered him after breakfast, ushering him into his office and closing the door behind them.

"You must propose, Raimundo. I mean it. It is not fair for you to dally with Rapunzel and risk the ire of her wretched guardian without intent to marry." Her face was set, jaw firm, eyes almost... angry. Taken aback, Rai took a step away, frowning right back.

"It is because I wish to avoid subjecting her to Gothel's ire that I have not yet proposed!" he argued. "This is not a... dalliance. I do not know how to explain it to you, mama, but she is..." He broke off, unsure what he'd been about to say, gaze dropping to the floor. She is everything. "I do not know how it feels to be in love," he began again and looked straight at his mother. "But I would not be surprised if this was it."

For a while, quiet settled between them, Sofia just taking it in, Raimundo watching her steadily. He was sure about this much, at least.

Eventually, Sofia sighed and rested her hand against her son's cheek, giving him an affectionate pat. "All the more reason to propose, then, my darling. I should not wish to watch you lose her..."

And with that, she was gone.

Thoughts of proposals swirling in his head, making him dizzy, he made his way upstairs to get properly changed to receive Rapunzel's company. He wore a green knitted vest over his shirt for extra warmth, made a half-hearted attempt to tame his unruly hair, then went to wait in the parlor with his book.

He'd replayed the image of kissing her in the rain what felt like a hundred times, when she finally did what they had both been struggling to do and moved away.

He let out a breath, shivering at the chill of the rain as she stepped towards the door.

"As do I, darling," he assured her gently. He'd messed up a lot off things recently and had let a lot of people down, but one thing he could not stand the thought of was letting her feel unloved or unwanted by him. She deserved to know how much he looked forward to seeing her.

As she went inside, he simply stood there in the rain, watching her longingly as she gazed back at him. He ignored the pull in his belly and the hammering of his heart and let out a heavy sigh as soon as she'd closed the door.

Feeling like this was just... it couldn't be normal, could it? How did people ever cope with long courtships and engagements if it felt this intense?!

His mind remained full of her on the way home and as he lay in bed waiting for sleep - even then, she featured in his dreams as she so often did these days.

#teach me to be more adaptive #runningracingdancingchasing

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disneydancepants · 3 years ago

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Some thoughts on Descendants...

I have been watching this series way too much the last few months. It is legit my #1 guilty pleasure. But anyway, here are some thoughts I've wanted to get out... So let's go!

I'm not going to do spoilers for the Wedding special, but the moment for Carlos made me fight back tears. RIP Cameron Boyce. On a separate note, I love that the Happy Madison crew dedicated Hubie Halloween to him too.

This is by far the campiest Maleficent, but it works? Even in the original, she was sadistically playful. She doesn't exude evil like she should, but I get they weren't going for a scary tone. The villains are all mostly shells of their former selves.

But what is going on with Jafar? He turned into the lamp salesman? And Jay acts way more like Son of Aladdin... Did Jafar lose everything, *and* somehow get stuck raising Aladdin's kid? That's the only way I can reconcile how un-Jafar this guy is.

Cruella is spot-on though. I don't even mind that they diversified her to match Carlos being biracial: the actress just nails it. I wish they'd given her a bigger role, or at least an appearance in the 3rd.

I hate that they just call Grimhilde "Evil Queen". She's also more like Mother Gothel, but I get that the Evil Queen was too evil/similar to Maleficent. I understand why they played up the vanity/silly angle.

Oof, Prince Adam/Beast is not a good actor... And he's kinda a dick to Belle. I wish Prince Ben had been given a French name. I'm an etymology nerd, y'all. Prince Beau, maybe?

The limo scene kind of bothers me. Is it that the Isle of the Lost does have candy, just not chocolate and peanut butter? Mal stole that lollipop from the baby earlier. This is making me think too hard.

I read on reddit or somewhere that the VKs are named after their parents to reflect the narcissism of the Villains. I guess not Carlos/Cruella, but Mal/Maleficent, Evie/Evil Queen, and Jay/Jafar. I guess from that angle, Beau/Belle wouldn't really work.

So did Cinderella spoil her kid and never make him do a chore in his life? Why was she such a bad parent? Apparently Aurora and Phillip were bad moms and dads too? I do like that it fits into the series' overall theme though: your parents don't define you.

It's actually really sad when you think about how emotionally abusive the Villain parents are... Mal is treated like a tool for Maleficent's schemes, Evie is pressured to act like a shallow bimbo instead of showing how smart and kind she is, Carlos is Gothel-ed (stay with mummy or else evil fanged creatures will murder you!), and Jay... I really don't think Jafar is his dad. 😆 Aladdin must have had an affair with Jafar's sister or something, and Jafar is forced to raise the kid.

I do wish though... Why didn't they use canonically diverse characters instead of race-bending? Where is Tiana's kid? Pocahontas? Esmeralda? Jasmine? Kronk or Yzma? Yeah, there aren't a huge amount to choose from...

I do enjoy how they seem to have cast the main cast first, and then changed Cruella/Ursula/Queen Leah/Lady Tremaine to match the actors of the kids. That feels like a cool and respectful way to diversify the Disney cast, imo.

Who is Evie's dad? I think Sofia Carson is latinx, so my head-canon suspects Ernesto de la Cruz. Who is Carlos's dad? What about Uma's dad? We find out Mal's parents, at least. And I've already told you what I think about Jay.

I was shocked to find out that Harry Hook's accent is real. I 100% thought it was fake. He must be trying to do a pirate voice or something...

I wish Wicked World was canon. I can't make it fit in my head though. CJ Hook should have had a cameo in Uma's crew. And Frederique Facilier should have at least been mentioned...

Does anyone else wonder what the backstories are of some of the extras? Do you think they were given them or made them up?

I guarantee the extras in Uma's crew argued. "I'm son of Jack Sparrow." "No, I'm son of Jack Sparrow!". "Guys, guys... We can *all* be Jack Sparrow's kids. We know he got around."

Chad Charming acts more like he's Son of Gaston. Gaston's kid acts more like Kronk. Harry Hook also seems like he should be Jack Sparrow's kid.

So is Ursula still huge? Was she resurrected the same size as when she died? Because that tentacle is big.

Why isn't Hades bald? He should be bald, not... Whatever that hair is. His actor both looks and sounds like Michael Keaton Jr. Tell me I'm wrong.

He might not nail Hades overall, but the actor has angry Hades perfected. I don't remember where, but there's a point that he sounds exactly like James Woods (voice of Hades) when he's yelling.

...What is going on with Smee's kids? Isn't Mr. Smee just old? I never thought he was albino.

Dr. Facilier is actually a good dad? That's sweet. It's too bad they didn't pay to get Keith David, but this actor is a good stand-in.

Anyone else ship Jay with Son of Gaston? Apparently Harry Hook kissed Son of Gaston (I can't remember his name) in a deleted scene of the 2nd movie. I read Harry and Jay as bi, personally. Jay and Son of Gaston are really cute together! I see them as more than "bros" at the end.

I really wish the VK parents made a cameo at the end with Hades, Facilier, and Tremaine. Carlos makes it sound like at least Cruella is going to show up, but she doesn't. That actress was so good!

Beast Ben is 2cringe4me...

PBJ is his fave tho

I actually do like that awkward dork though. He has a good heart.

What happened to Lonnie after D2? She never gets even mentioned again?

Ugh, I just can't Doug's hair in D3. He doesn't pull it off. I hate how he became a possessive dweeb after the first movie too. I liked him better as a sweet and awkward dweeb. Put your glasses back on!

Also, the thought of Dopey having a kid is traumatizing.

And why isn't Melody, daughter of Ariel and Eric, a character? Zephyr, son of Esmeralda and Phoebus? Cassandra, daughter of (spoiler)?

#descendants #mal #evie #king ben #carlos deville #disney kids #d2 #rotten to the core #wicked world

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redgillan · 5 years ago

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Under Pastel Skies - 9

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,257

Warnings: mention of accident, mention of blood

A/N: I’m sorry this took longer than usual but it’s pretty long so yay! I hope you’ll like this chapter. We’re slowly getting there :’) Thank you for the feedback, I truly appreciate all of you! Also 1 marvel quote and several Bob Ross quotes that I obv don’t own.

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

Good luck on your interview xx

Bucky had just hit ‘send’ when Sam cleared his throat noisily, drawing Bucky’s attention away from his phone. His friends were frowning crossly at him, their glasses raised in a silent toast. He set his phone face-down on the table and picked up his glass.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

Sam shot Steve a ‘see?’ look and Steve replied with a shrug and a little smile. They looked like two sassy grandmothers judging their only grandson. Bucky checked his phone again, and out of his peripheral vision, he could see his grandmothers share another look.

“What?” he barked, annoyed.

“Nothin,” they both answered at the same time before they took a synchronized sip of orange juice.

Smacking his lips together, Sam opened the menu and began to skim through the choices. A waiter suddenly came out of nowhere to take their order. Bucky ordered a cranberry rosemary scone, smoked bacon, an eggplant sandwich, and a plate of lemon-ricotta pancakes.

“Excuse-me,” Sam called out to the waiter. “Could you make his pancakes in the shape of an angel?” he asked, ignoring Bucky who was openly glaring at him.

The waiter, albeit a little surprised, kept a smile on his face. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Bucky told him, handing him the menu. “Thank you.”

Without another look to his friends, he grabbed his phone and checked his messages for the third time in less than two minutes. Steve snatched his phone up and sat back in his seat, waving the phone at Bucky.

“Enough! Live in the moment.” He pocketed the phone and gave Bucky a pointed stare. “You’ll get it back later.”

“What the hell? You’re not my father, give it back!” Bucky snapped, extending his hand, the palm facing up. Steve shook his head. “Give it back, you fucking meatball.”

He got up and tried to reach inside Steve’s pocket for his phone but Steve kept shifting in his seat. They wrestled like that for a minute while Sam watched them, eating a breadstick and looking mildly entertained.

“Okay, fine,” Bucky panted, pushing himself away from Steve. “You leave me no choice, Rogers.” He cleared his throat like an actor about to jump on stage. “Give me back my phone, Steve!” he said, raising his voice. “Do you enjoy stealing from disabled people?”

He nearly shouted the last two words, and to Steve’s horror, the buzz of conversation around them had died. He could feel people staring at him. Cursing softly under his breath, he reached into his pocket and dropped the phone into Bucky’s awaiting hand.

“It’s okay, we’re friends,” Steve said to the people sitting behind him. They looked at him with a disapproving glare. “Jesus, Bucky, you’re making me look like an asshole.”

An amused expression crossed Bucky’s face as he sat back in his seat. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

It was quiet while he checked his messages. Slowly, those around them returned to their own conversations. Sam pointed his half-eaten breadstick at Steve.

“Do you think the waiter will spit in your omelette?” he said the last word with an exaggerated French accent. Steve glared at him.

Their waiter arrived a moment later carrying a large tray with their brunch. Steve poked at his omelet with a suspicious frown, then looked over at Bucky who was still on his phone. Sam stole a slice of bacon from Bucky’s plate and gave it to Steve.

“I hear you’ve got a date tonight,” Sam said, making conversation.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled, embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just looking for something casual. I’m leaving in two days.”

“Where’re you going this time?”

“South Africa,” Steve replied, stealing another slice of bacon. “What about you? What’s that big emergency?”

Sam glanced at Bucky who was grinning like an idiot at his phone. “Not now. Let’s eat first.” He took the plate of bacon, took what he wanted then handed it to Steve. “Want another?”

Steve kept looking over at Bucky while they finished his bacon but Bucky didn’t seem to acknowledge their presence. He was in his own little bubble.

“It’s like we don’t even exist,” Steve remarked out loud.

“I know, it’s amazing. Look!” Sam straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat. “Bucky Barnes is the biggest idiot on the planet, and he can eat my farts.” Bucky was hunched over his phone, his thumb typing away. “See?”

“Impressive.”

“That’s the angel effect,” Sam said.

With a happy little sigh, Bucky pocketed his phone and turned his attention to his friends. He frowned at the amused look they shared.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Steve’s first date in two years.” Sam turned to Steve. “You must be nervous.”

“Strangely, no.” Steve broke off a small piece of omelet with his fork. “I actually know him. He’s an old friend from college.”

“Nice,” Sam said.

“He’s a fashion photographer now.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky’s brows pinched in confusion as he stared at Steve.

Undeterred, Steve continued. “We’ve been facetiming a lot lately.” He shot Bucky a glance. “Why do you think I go to bed at 8?”

“But I thought-”

“You thought I had a date with your girl,” Steve said with a warm smile. “Listen, man, I like her. She’s cute, funny, talented. She’s a real sweetheart. But I like her because she brought back that light in your eyes. You look happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you. You had to go through so much crap, Buck. You deserve this.”

Bucky looked down at his pancakes, feeling tears pool in his eyes. He blinked them back and sniffed quietly. “So you were never going to ask her out.”

“I was until you called her ‘angel’,” Steve replied with a shrug. “You kept saying you were okay with this but, I mean, I’m not that dense.”

“Why do you keep going out with her then?” Bucky grumbled.

“Jeez, Mother Gothel, I didn’t know Rapunzel wasn’t allowed to leave the tower,” Steve exclaimed. “We were bored. You’re in your office all day. It was fun to mess with you though. You’re a grumpy Gus when you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous, okay. I was annoyed. There’s a difference.”

“Uh-huh.”

Bucky looked over at Sam who had been strangely quiet throughout this whole exchange. He loved teasing Bucky, and he always had something to say about Bucky’s love life. Sam wasn’t looking at Bucky, he just pushed his food around with his fork, his lips pinched shut. He met Bucky’s eyes, then lowered his head again.

Bucky had a feeling something bad was about to happen.

“What’s the big emergency?” he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

Sam set his fork down beside his plate and leaned back against his chair with a sigh. He trained his gaze on the front door, seemingly deep in thought.

“I’m moving to D.C.” He paused to let the information sink in. “They’re transferring me to the D.C. office. I’m their new chief financial officer.”

“Congrats, man!” Steve exclaimed. “You deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“So why the long face?”

“I’m a little anxious to leave New York. What will Barnes do without me? Without his mentor? Without someone to look up to?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll be all right.” He hesitated before he asked, “Did you tell her?”

“Tell who?” Steve inquired, polishing off the last of his omelet.

Bucky felt the wave of long-held sadness his Sam’s eyes. “I’ll tell her tonight.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look. They weren’t sure how Steve would react.

The word sugar daddy held a pejorative connotation. Every single one of those relationships featured a powerful, rich man and a poor, vulnerable man or woman. There was a clear power imbalance here that never appealed to Bucky, and he was pretty sure it never appealed to Sam either.

Whether it was a no-strings-attached service or an emotional service, it was still a hole in your resume. One that would be hard to explain to your future employers. He was afraid people would call you names, treat you differently or harass you if they knew.

He often wondered if he had unintentionally ruined your life.

Deep down he knew Steve would never call you a whore or treat you differently but he was still trying to protect your reputation. He believed that Sam had Natasha’s best interest at heart too.

Sam told Steve everything. He remembered the day he had met Natasha, their instant chemistry, the subtle flirting, the arrangement, their first night out, their first kiss, their first time together, their new arrangement. Steve listened attentively. When Sam told him that you were Natasha’s best friend, Bucky interrupted him and told his own story.

“Wow,” Steve deadpanned, leaning forward to take one of Sam’s poached egg and avocado toast. Sam slapped his hand away. “Is that a thing now? Sugar daddies, I mean?”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Yeah.” Steve sipped his mimosa with a bored look on his face. “You’re both not ready for the real conversation, so I’m just making small talk.”

Sam and Bucky exchanged confused looks. “What real conversation?”

“Sam, you just got an amazing promotion, you’re going to be the Prince of D.C. and you’re sitting here like someone kicked your puppy,” Steve replied, then turned to Bucky. “And you, well... I’ve been living with you for the past two weeks and you’ve gone all Alpha male on me, Buck. Cut the shit. You’re both in love with your sugar babies. Companions, or whatever the fuck you want to call them.”

Sam and Bucky sat in silence with their heads hung low. Steve opened his arms wide like a lawyer in a bad TV show saying ‘I rest my case’. When he spoke again, his voice was soft.

“Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don't,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen, um?”

It made Bucky think. Best-case scenario, you loved him too and life was a breeze for the next fifty years. Bad-case scenario, you didn’t share his feelings. Worst-case scenario, you shared his feelings but couldn’t make the transition from sugar baby to girlfriend.

Yeah, worst-case scenario sucked...

He came home around three in the afternoon, and smiled when he saw your shoes and coat. Knowing you were home always put him in a good mood, but his heart was heavy. He felt conflicted. He didn’t know if it was better to tell you how he felt now or to just keep living in this little bubble with you until it’d inevitably burst.

And to make things worse, Sam was going to end his contract with Natasha tonight. He made Bucky promise not to tell you about it. Bucky felt sorry for Natasha, he wondered if she had feelings for Sam. He wondered if she had a backup plan.

He found you in your studio, sitting on the floor, huddled against the wall, with one knee drawn up to your chest and your arms loosely wrapped around your leg. You were staring at the painting you’d just made, the still wet paint glistened under the artificial lights.

This painting was different from your usual landscapes and occasional portraits. There were various shades of blue and grey intertwined, and five big splotches of dark red paint layered on top of the canvas.

Bucky knew just by looking at you that something was wrong. You looked defeated, sad, upset. He reasoned that your interview didn’t go as planned. Quietly, he stepped into the room and sat down on the floor next to you, his left shoulder brushing your own.

“I just got home,” he said.

“Where’s Steve?”

“He said he had some errands to run. He’ll be back later.”

You nodded, still staring straight ahead. “Okay. I bet you can’t wait to have some time to yourself. I asked Natasha if I could stay with her, but she’s going out with Sam tonight. I’ll stay in my room, I won’t bother you.”

Bucky felt his heart drop, his breath caught in his throat. He had made the woman he loved feel unwelcome. God, he wanted to kick his own ass.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tilting his head to look at you but you were stubborn and refused to meet his eye. “I thought you were going out with Steve and I- I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay with me.”

“I’m not interested in Steve. I told you that.”

“I know.” He moved so that he could see your face. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you, and for the way I treated Steve. It won’t happen again. I promise. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Bucky,” you huffed.

He saw your chin quiver slightly and your eyes glaze over with unshed tears. You looked utterly broken. He reached up and wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

“Sorry, I had a difficult day,” you said.

His palm cupped the side of your face, his thumb stroking a caress across your cheek. You met his eyes for the first time and he smiled softly at you.

“My angel.”

His words made you cry even harder, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. With his hand still cupping the side of your face, he leaned closer and pressed his lips against your other cheek. You closed your eyes and basked in his affection.

He could feel the warmth of your tears, could taste the salt on his lips as they streamed down your cheek to his mouth. Slowly, he pulled back and looked at you, a smile forming on his lips when he saw a fleck of dried blue paint above your eyebrows.

“Painter Smurf,” he teased, wiping it off. You let out a huff of air that sounded like a laugh. “I’m here for you, angel, whatever you need.” He pulled you against his side and you rested your head on his chest.

“My interview didn’t go very well,” you said after a long moment of silence. “She said that I’m really talented, that my technique is perfect. But my work is too figurative. It’s not what she’s looking for.” You paused to wipe your nose on your sleeve. “It’s just- It wasn’t my first meeting. They all tell me the same thing: I’m not good enough.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky said, kissing your hair. “Your work is unique. It’s raw and beautiful. If they can’t see that then they’re morons.”

“She told me that if I had been a white man in the nineteenth century, people would still talk about me today.” You sighed. “I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe I should work on something more abstract.”

Bucky tilted his head to one side as he looked at your painting. “Is that why you painted this?”

“Mhhh,” you hummed. “She told me to play with the textures, the forms, the lines, the colours. Suggest rather than show. Let the painting tell its own story.”

“Yeah, I think you did it.”

“You think it’s good?”

“I don’t think those adjectives apply here. Not with modern art. It’s in the eye of the beholder,” he said, running his fingers along your shoulder. “Abstract art isn’t supposed to be beautiful, it’s supposed to make you feel something, right?”

“How does it make you feel?”

“Unsettled, sad.”

You straightened up and sat shoulder to shoulder. “My brother died in a hit-and-run.” You let the information sink in for a minute. “I was with Okoye, we got a call from our mom but by the time we got to the hospital, he was already dead.”

Your voice was surprisingly calm and controlled. Bucky wanted to reach out to you but he was unable to move. He listened attentively, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest.

“He was wearing some kind of compression shirt, grey-blue with two white stripes, and it was covered in blood. When I close my eyes and think of that day, all I remember is that shirt and the blood.” You tilted your head and gave him a little smile. “That’s what I painted.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Sorry,” you let out a small laugh. “I had a shitty meeting and then I came home and basically relived one of the worst days of my life to put it on a canvas. Now it’s staring at me and all I want is to shred it to pieces.”

Bucky noticed that your hand was close to one of your palette knives. Your fingers brushed against the handle, debating whether you should pick it up and slash the canvas. He laid his hand on top of yours.

“It won’t help,” he said. “Trust me. I can put the painting somewhere else if you want. You won’t have to look at it again. I promise.”

“Yes, please.”

“C’mon, beautiful, let’s go downstairs. I know someone who can help you.” He got to his feet and extended his hand to you. You frowned up at him, a silent question in your eyes. “His name is Bob and he paints happy little trees.”

A bright, wide smile spread until it lit up your whole face, and Bucky’s heart melted at the sight. He grinned at you and pulled you to your feet.

“I love Bob Ross,” you said, and Bucky gave your hand a little squeeze.

In the living room, you sat down on the sofa, crossing your legs under you and grabbed a blanket while Bucky connected his YouTube account to the TV. He sat down beside you, propping his feet up on the coffee table and adjusting the blanket in his lap.

“Hi, welcome back. Certainly glad you could join me today.” The show started and you melted against Bucky’s chest, pulling the blanket up to your neck. “Thought today we could do a fantastic little painting-”

You were pressed against his bad side, but Bucky didn’t mind. As the show progressed, you slid further into his lap until your head rested on the armrest of the sofa, close to Bucky’s right hand.

“People know when you’re happy. They can look at your paintings and tell how you were happy. They reflect your moods. Paintings are a reflection of your innermost feelings.”

He gave your head a little massage while you both watched Bob Ross create a stunning lake view painting.

“Cuz in your world, you can create any kind of illusion that you want. I spent half my life in the military, and I had to live in somebody else’s world all the time. Painting offered me freedom, I’d come home after all day of playing soldier and I could paint the kind of world that I wanted. It was clean, it was sparkling, shiny, beautiful-”

You shifted a little, and Bucky wondered if those words resonated with what you had been through. Being adopted, losing a brother, taking care of your sick mother when your siblings left, graduating, making ends meet... Those experiences had shaped you into the woman you would be for the rest of your life. A kind and strong woman who never really got to live or enjoy life.

He understood how important painting was to you. He was an artist too. He wasn’t a painter, but writing offered him a kind of freedom he had lost a long time ago.

“We should paint along,” you said, tilting your head up to look at him. “Then I’ll sell yours. I bet people would pay a lot of money to own an original Grant Thomas painting.”

Bucky chuckled. He knew you were teasing him, the slight curl of your lips said as much. “I’ll sign it James Barnes. It’ll be worthless.”

“It’s not worthless to me,” you said.

“Would you hang it in your room?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, okay, I’ll paint along with you.”

When the episode ended, you decided to eat dinner first and paint later. You were sitting at the kitchen island, eating a bowl of leftover pasta from the night before, when Steve came home.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, throwing a plastic bag on the kitchen island before he made his way to his bedroom.

“I’m so fucking late. I still need to take a shower and get dressed.” Steve came out of his room, shirtless, and working his belt buckle open. “Hey, Buck, can I borrow some clothes?”

“I swear to fuckin’ God, Rogers, if you undress in the middle of the kitchen I’ll make you eat your jeans.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He rushed to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. A minute later, Bucky heard the shower running.

Later, you went upstairs to gather canvases, paint brushes and paint while Bucky helped Steve pick out an outfit.

Steve was too excited about his date to remind Bucky that he was an idiot, and Bucky was happy that for once they didn’t talk about his feelings for you. He teased Steve and watched as Steve squirmed, the tip of his ears bright red. Just like old times.

Then they met you downstairs where you had two easels set up in front of the television. Steve stood in front of you, visibly nervous and agitated, while you looked at him from head to toe.

“How do I look?”

“Like you’re wearing clothes two sizes too small for you, which makes you look even bigger than you normally are so... pretty good.”

“Yeah?”

You chuckled. “You look great, Steve.”

Steve responded with a relieved sigh and a little bashful smile. Bucky liked that look on Steve, it reminded him of their childhood when Steve awkwardly flirted his way through Brooklyn.

Bucky jerked back to the present when Steve turned to him for confirmation. He gave him a firm nod and a thumbs-up, then walked him to the kitchen. They talked about Steve’s plans for the night while Steve gathered up his things.

Bucky was walking back to the living room when Steve called out his name and threw something to him. Bucky caught it in mid-air, then looked down at his hand. A shiny looking condom wrapper was nestled in the palm of his hand. He scowled at Steve.

“Just in case,” Steve said with a shit-eating grin.

“You’re a dead man.”

Steve’s laughter echoed down the corridor as he left the apartment.

Blowing out a breath, Bucky pocketed the foil packet and joined you in the living room. You were sitting at your easel, blobs of paint arranged in a semicircle on a palette. There was another easel next to yours, with a palette resting on a stool to make things easier for him.

You selected the lake view episode you had watched earlier, thinking that it would make things easier. Bucky was in awe of you, you made painting look so effortless and beautiful. You added your own trees and clouds, shifting things around to create your own world.

Bucky followed Bob Ross’ instructions closely but, in his opinion, it looked like someone had made it with their feet. You laughed at his comment and told him that you would still hang it in your room. It boosted his ego a bit.

When you both finished your painting, Bucky looked up at the clock. It was close to midnight which made him do a double take.

“Time for me to hit the hay,” he said, yawning. “This is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Mhh,” you mused, turning the TV off.

“You okay?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I- uh, I was kind of hoping we’d do this all night,” you said, playing with a mostly dried paintbrush. You looked at him from under your lashes. “But it’s fine. I understand, you’re tired. I think I’ll wait for Steve.”

Bucky looked at you with a pained expression. He could tell something was bothering you. He placed his index finger under your chin and tilted your head up. “Angel, I don’t think Steve is coming home tonight.” You pinched your lips together and nodded. “Talk to me. I want to help.”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Your words hit him like a punch in the chest, leaving him momentarily breathless. He pulled you close and pressed a long kiss to your forehead. You clung to him for dear life, your warmth and familiar scent made his heart ache.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled against your skin, then pulled back a little so he could look you in the eye. “Let’s change into something more comfortable, um? Then we’ll catch some shut-eye. I have an idea, the first person to fall asleep has to make breakfast tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

“You’re right. I’m exhausted, I’ll fall asleep first,” he said, shaking his head. “New rule, last person to fall asleep has to make breakfast.”

You snorted. “No, I meant... are we going to sleep in the same bed?”

“I promise I’ll stay on my side. But if it makes you uncomfortable, there’s a bunk bed in Steve’s room.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to wash my face first. I’ll see you in a minute.”

Bucky tried to play it cool but his heart was pounding. He kept seeing flashes of his dreams in his mind: skin against skin, steady puffs of air brushing against his skin, the smell of sweat and something uniquely you surrounding him.

He was absolutely terrified.

He went upstairs, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas. His night-time regimen took longer than he had anticipated so he wasn’t surprised when he found you sitting cross-legged on his bed, scrolling through your phone, looking so calm and peaceful.

You were wearing your pyjama bottoms and a fluffy sweatshirt stained with blue paint and tomato soup. He felt his stomach flip when you raised your head and smiled at him. A chill ran through his spine, and made the hairs on his arm stand on end. He’d never seen you look more beautiful.

“Hey,” you said, placing your phone on the nightstand. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“The side you’re sitting on.” You rolled to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers making him laugh. “You didn’t have to move.”

“It’s fine. I prefer this side.” You looked around the room. “I like your room. It’s very you.”

“Ah?”

“Yeah, neat, organized, lots of books, a cosy armchair, stormy blue comforter. It looks intimidating but it’s actually really soft. Like you.”

He suppressed a laugh. “Thanks.”

Bucky climbed into bed beside you, turned off the light and drew the blanket over him trying to get warm. He lay on his back looking up at the ceiling. He was so stiff and nervous, he forced himself to breathe normally. You turned onto your side and slid one of your hands under your pillow.

“Do you usually read before you go to sleep?” you whispered, afraid to disturb the silence.

“Yes,” he whispered back. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.” There was a moment’s silence before you spoke again. “I’ve started reading your book.”

“Oh, Christ,” he let out a small laugh and turned his head to look at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. “I hope I didn’t traumatize you.”

“You have a very dark sense of humour,” you said. “But I already knew that.”

“I’ve always had a dark sense of humor, but trust me, when I lost my arm I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Therapy helped a lot. Besides, laughing is good for your health, right? My books are very personal, I don’t censor myself.”

“I know. I wasn’t expecting it to be so honest.” You shifted a little and looked away from him. “I don’t know if I’ll finish it, I feel like I’m intruding.”

“I understand.” He shifted slightly so he was lying on his left side, facing you. “I wrote it like a diary. Talking isn’t my strong suit. I don’t know, I think I’m trying too hard and I just end up being rude or not making sense. When I write, I take my time, I find the right words. It’s easier when I don’t have to look anyone in the eye.”

He knew his book was a little rough. He focused on his depression, his rehabilitation, relearning basically everything. He talked about rediscovering his body, intimately. He talked about his friends, his family, strangers, therapy, dating.

“Can I ask you a very personal question?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

He swallowed hard, his throat raw and tight. “Yes.” In fact, he was in love right now. “Once. I don’t trust easily.”

“I know I read what happened between you and your girlfriend.”

She had been his first girlfriend since the accident. She was kind, patient, a little over excited but he found it cute. In a way, she reminded him of himself before the accident. She wasn’t afraid to touch him, and God, he needed to be touched.

Sam had witnessed little things that irked him but Bucky had ignored him, refusing to see the warning signs. He wanted to be happy again. But then he couldn’t bury his head in the sand anymore.

She treated him like a child in front of their friends, and her friends praised her for taking such good care of a man like him. A man who, in their mind, was high maintenance. She cut his meat for him even though he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. She helped him dress, tied his shoes, zipped up his coat, etc... He felt infantilized, humiliated.

He didn’t think she was a bad person though. It was just her personality.

“How’s Natasha?” he asked suddenly.

A puff of air caressed his face as you snorted out a laugh. “Why do you ask? You don’t like her.”

“I like her a lot,” he argued. “She seems wary of me, which I understand, but she’s great.”

“Yeah, she is.” You considered his words. “She’s doing well. She went on work date with Sam.”

Despite his promise to Sam, he couldn’t bear the thought of keeping things from you. “I have to tell you something about Sam and Nat.” You waited for him to continue. “Sam got promoted, he’s moving to D.C. He broke things off with Natasha tonight. I mean, their arrangement.”

“I know,” you said. “She texted me while you were in the bathroom. I’m going to spend the night at her place tomorrow. It’s been a while since we had a girls’ night, and we both really need it.”

“Good.” He cupped the side of your face, let his thumb brush your jaw. “I’m going out with the boys tomorrow. Steve’s leaving soon.” He pulled his hand back. “We should try to get some sleep.”

“No, please,” you said, shifting closer to him. “Not yet.”

“Angel, we can’t stay awake all night.”

“I don’t want to be alone in the dark.”

“I’m right here with you,” he spoke gently.

“But once you fall asleep I’ll be alone.”

Bucky raised his head and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. When he pulled back, he rested his hand on your forearm and let his warmth seep into your skin. His thumb caressed the inside of your wrist, stroked over your racing pulse point.

“I’ll wait until you fall asleep,” he said.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled and let your index finger run down the length of his nose. “Does it hurt when you sleep on your left side?”

“Not really,” he replied. “Most of the time it’s just weird. It feels like my phantom limb hangs down through the bed. Like my arm is invisible and just goes through the bed.”

“What do you miss the most?”

He let out a long exhale. “Not much. Hugs. Proper hugs... I guess. Holding someone close and wrapping myself around them. Squeezing someone against my chest, making them feel protected. I used to be a great hugger. Now I give bro hugs.”

“I love bro hugs.”

His chuckled dissolved into a grin, and you both stayed quiet for a moment. He knew you weren’t asleep, he could hear you thinking. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

“I was wondering,” you started, then trailed off. “One day we’ll have to end this arrangement. Do you think it’ll end well, or is it going to be messy?”

It took him a minute to respond.

“Y’know, one of the things I learned in therapy was to stop worrying about things I can’t control,” he said. “That’s in the future, for future-you and future-me. I don’t know how it’ll end but I can promise you one thing: I’ll always be there for you. Arrangement or not.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out. “Right-now-me is a lucky bitch.”

You both laughed softly, then fell into a contemplative silence. There was something so peaceful about lying in bed with you, his hand loosely wrapped around your wrist, sharing warmth. He didn’t want to fall asleep.

For the next hour you talked about your families, your childhood, your friends, your likes and your dislikes. You told him about being an adopted child and living with other adopted kids. He could tell you were holding back when you talked about your siblings.

The only one you gushed about was Okoye. You were evasive when you talked about Scott and Wanda, though you did tell him that you had agreed to meet Wanda.

“What’s your favorite comfort food?”

“Breakfast for dinner.” Your voice was soft and small, he knew you were falling asleep. “When I was a kid, we had breakfast for dinner every Sunday night. We’d grab a bowl of our favourite cereal and eat together in front of the TV. I miss those days.” Your face was half buried in your pillow. “What’s yours?”

“Easy, pancakes.”

You smiled, your eyes were closed. “I like pancakes too.”

He watched you fall asleep and made a mental note to make some pancakes for breakfast. Your breathing evened out, and he waited a few more minutes to make sure you were asleep before he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

Bucky woke up to the sound of rain striking against the window. He opened his eyes and noted that the room seemed brighter than usual. A quick glance at the bedside clock told him that it was already a little past eight.

He stretched, sighing contentedly, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his closed fist. He tilted his head to look at you, still sleeping next to him. You lay on your stomach with your face turned away from him and your arms hugging your pillow. He adjusted the covers around your shoulders and stealthy slipped out of bed.

He went to the window and fixed the shades to make sure they didn’t let any light in. Then he made his way downstairs where he found Steve cracking eggs into a bowl. He was still wearing Bucky’s clothes, but his hair was a mess. Still he looked positively glowing.

“Mornin’,” Steve greeted with a wide smile.

“Hey, man.” Bucky took a seat at the kitchen island. “When did you get back?”

“About ten minutes ago. Long enough to notice that your angel hasn’t slept in her room last night. Wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Bucky said with a shrug. “She didn’t want to be alone.”

“So you slept with her.”

“We slept in the same bed. Nuance.”

“I’m gonna nuance your face with my fist if you don’t talk to her soon,” Steve exclaimed. “She’s not going to stay single forever, Buck. Things are gonna change, one way or another.”

“I know.”

Steve set the bowl aside and held the edge of the counter behind him. He sighed, exasperated. “If I were you, I’d talk to her before something happens and takes your choices away from you.”

Bucky pinched his lips together, hard, and looked down at the counter. A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I- I don’t know how to talk to her,” he said, feeling tears gather in his eyes. He met Steve’s eyes. “I physically can’t talk to her. It hurts. It’s stuck here-” he aggressively grabbed his stomach “-all the time. And it hurts, Steve, you have no idea how painful it is.”

“That’s love,” Steve replied, smiling at him like he, too, knew how it felt.

“Well, it fucking sucks.”

Bucky wiped the back of his hand against his runny nose. Steve stood there in silence.

“This book I’m writing,” Bucky said, breaking the silence. “It’s about her. Just her.” He paused. “I can’t back down now, my publicist’s too invested in our story. I know it’s an eccentric way of telling someone you fell in love with them but... writing’s easier than talking.”

Steve nodded, his eyes glued to the floor. “It’s like a long love letter.”

“Something like that.” Bucky climbed off the stool and rounded the kitchen island. “Now, I’m going to make breakfast. I promised her pancakes.”

Steve smiled and watched him move around the kitchen. “I hope it works out for you, Bucky. I really do.”

Part 10

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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invisible-pink-toast · 3 years ago

Text

So something that I’ve wondered for a while is what would happen if Eugene did die in the tower, and the tear didn’t bring him back. What would Rapunzel do and how would that change her story.

And I wanted to look into Rapunzel’s life in the tower and her sort of warped perspectives on things through what Gothel taught her (and her reactions to finding out her entire life was a lie). And for some reason last night I was compelled to write it and now it’s become a bit of an ongoing project (it’s already 10k rip) with a lot of angst but also some comfort and I thought I’d post the start here!

(also spoiler alert but Eugene doesn’t stay dead long term (because fuck that) but I did want to deal with grief and confusion and change so he stays dead for a while...)

______________________

Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt, change the fates design, save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine. What once was mine.

No glow. No movement. No response.

Eugene had let out one last breath, and had faded. But Rapunzel hadn’t let go. She stayed and held him close, and tried to bring him back, voice going hoarse and words choked with tears as she repeated the healing incantation over and over and over again.

But he doesn’t wake up. She feels Pascal come and sit on her shoulder, burrowing into her in comfort and she starts to sob.

She cries, great wretched sobs that shake her entire body and have her gasping for air, that sound more like screams and wailing. It hurts, the crying, but nothing could ever hurt as much as the pain in her heart, seeping through her veins and her bones into every inch of her, pain at the knowledge that Eugene is- is dead.

He’s dead.

She weeps until she can’t anymore, until a welcoming darkness comes and takes her. But her sleep isn’t peaceful - Mother is grabbing her and Eugene is hanging and then he’s lying and red red red stains the floor and brown hair wraps around her, tightening, choking until she gasps awake.

She doesn’t open her eyes. Doesn’t want to see anything. She lies with her head on Eugene’s chest, but his chest doesn’t move. His heart doesn’t beat.

In the Snuggly Duckling, when the pub thugs had slammed the door shut and gathered around them to grab ‘Flynn Rider’ - Eugene had put himself between her and Hookhand, holding out his arms to protect her. When the guards had come thundering down the secret passage he’d put his arm around her to urge her forwards. And when the water came rushing in and they couldn’t see, he pulled her back up and brushed the hair back from her face.

He was always protecting her. Right up until his final moments. He was warm and kind and reassuring. She could go out and take on the world with him by her side.

But now he was cold. And still. And silent.

After a long time, Rapunzel looks up. Broken glass is scattered around them. Brown hair lies around the room. It’s dark, she’s not sure how long she cried, or how long she slept. It doesn’t really matter. There’s nothing for her to do.

What now?

She’s the lost princess. But what does that mean? Would she be able to prove that? Why would she even want to? The King and Queen are her parents - but this is the King and Queen that sent Eugene to be hanged. How he managed to escape that, she has no idea. But anyone who would want to hurt Eugene can’t be good.

Mother isn’t- wasn’t good. Mother’s not even her mother.

All those years, her entire life, locked away in this tower. And for what?

And there’s so much world out there, it was so exciting and colourful and beautiful - but Eugene’s gone. Eugene’s dead. His blood is on her hands and her hair is on the floor and what’s so beautiful about the world anyway? Why should it get to be beautiful when Eugene is gone and she’s in so much pain? She can’t stay in this tower, doesn’t want to stay in this tower, but she doesn’t want to go into the world either.

What now?

She just wants to lie down. Go to sleep again. She’s so tired. She doesn’t want to do anything ever again.

Well that’s the good part, I guess. You get to go find a new dream.

She’d seen the floating lights. They were beautiful and important and everything she’d ever hoped for. More so, because of the man beside her. And she found her new dream, with his smile and his touch and his heart. And his company had filled up her heart and warmed her soul and made her want and dream for things she’d never dared to before. She had found her new dream.

But he’s gone. And he’s never coming back.

You were my new dream. If you do this - then you will die. You need to go find a new dream.

Eugene had died for her. Eugene had come back for her, sacrificed himself for her. That couldn’t be for nothing. That was so big, and so painful, so it had to mean something. Eugene had given her his life in exchange for hers, she needed to make sure that sacrifice wasn’t in vain. She needed to live. But she was so tired.

What now?

Eugene’s face looks peaceful. Almost like he was sleeping. She hopes he’s at peace. That he’s somewhere warm and good.

Where do you go after you die?

She’s never wondered that before. Mot- Gothel never talked about it. Rapunzel didn’t even know about death until she was nine and she’d choked on a fishbone. She couldn’t get any air in and began to panic. Mother had gone white as a sheet and ran over and slammed her hands against Rapunzel’s back several times, so hard it hurt, but the fishbone moved and she could breathe again. Mother had been furious, yelling about waste and dying and hair. Mother never brought fish back to the tower again. Mother didn’t want her to die.

Because she had wanted Rapunzel’s hair. Gothel didn’t care who else died.

Eugene’s dead.

He’s gone.

The light in his eyes and his smile and his kind and beating heart. Gone. But his body is still here.

How easy would it be for Eugene to come back? His body is here. Where’s the spirit gone? Why can’t he come back?

He’s not coming back.

Hot tears slip down Rapunzel’s face. They taste like salt.

Rapunzel strokes her fingers against Eugene’s cheek. He shouldn’t stay here. Trapped forever in this tower prison. He should be under the sky, free.

Two days ago they had walked by land that was covered in stones with names on them. Eugene had explained that it was a graveyard, and people were buried there after they died. Rapunzel had freaked out, the thought of being trapped underground- but he quickly tried to calm her, explaining about funerals and tributes and how it was about saying goodbye.

Eugene was gone. He should get a funeral and a tribute. She didn’t think she could say goodbye though.

Maybe not ever.

But he deserved a proper goodbye. An important one. And a stone with his name on it, and the good things he’d done.

Rapunzel makes herself stand up. Walks past the broken glass and the brown hair and gets some water, and gives some to Pascal too. She walks to the window and looks down.

She blinks in surprise when she sees Max waiting at the bottom of the tower. The white horse looks relieved to see her, but not surprised. Pascal chirps on her shoulder, he talked to Max while she was asleep. A smile almost graces her lips. Max came back for her. He must have helped Eugene escape. That was kind of him.

Then she sees Mother’s cloak. And the smile is gone.

Mother is gone. That’s good. Mother was bad - Mother was Gothel, she wasn’t her mother, but she was Rapunzel’s everything for all her life, but she stole her away and locked her away and used her hair and told her lies she lied and lied and lied but she held Rapunzel when she cried about the lightning storms, and she bought her paints and complimented her art and she made her favourite soups and she lied and hurt and pulled and chained her up and she killed Eugene. She stabbed him right through and stole the life from him just like she stole Rapunzel’s life. Gothel was gone.

Rapunzel covers her eyes. She doesn’t want to cry. Doesn’t want to cry for her, because she was bad and she lied and she hurt, but Rapunzel still cries.

She turns away from the window and sees the knife on the ground, right where Gothel dropped it after Eugene cut her hair. The knife is clean, Gothel must have cleaned it, but then why can Rapunzel see the blood on it? Eugene’s blood. That knife killed Eugene.

And something in Rapunzel snaps. She storms over, over the broken glass and the hair and she grabs the knife. She marches back to the window and she throws the knife, throws it as far as she can, away from her and away from Eugene. Then she rushes to the sink and washes her hands, scrubs as hard as she can, because she touched the knife and there’s blood on her hands, Eugene’s blood on her hands, and she scrubs and scrubs and scrubs until her hands are red but there’s no blood.

A funeral.

Eugene deserves a funeral.

She’ll take him outside. She’ll bury him there, so he’s outside under the sky.

He deserves that. And it’s something that she can do. Something she must do. She owes him her life. She won’t let her life go to waste. But she won’t leave him, not like this.

#i need a name for this #rn it’s “sad tangled au”#new dream #rapunzel x eugene #rapunzel #eugene #gothel #tangled #tts #tangled the series #my fics #angst #cw: death blood grief #i'm not sure how to do content warnings if anyone needs anything tagged let me know

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bestworstcase · 4 years ago

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tired of ‘it doesn’t make sense for cass to trust zhan tiri’ takes

cass is a cautious person with a good instinct for danger which yes means that for most of the show she is indeed the ignored voice of reason saying ‘hey this OBVIOUSLY SKETCHY situation is sketch’ YES

but

in the latter half of 2 she is mutilated by her friend, blamed for it, made to apologize for her own injury, denied any space to feel hurt or upset or angry about this, and literally told ‘you should know we never listen to you!’ when she gets mad about yet another instance of her saying ‘this seems sus’ only for them to literally walk out on her mid-sentence without even acknowledging that she’s speaking.

cass tries again and again to communicate her feelings and every single time she’s brushed off or scolded or belittled by her friends. her friends have so little respect for her that by the time they hit the hoyt the aren’t even pretending anymore. this hurts her, terribly

then - ok listen. take off the ‘zhan tiri is a horrible evil monster’ goggles put aside your entrenched preconceived biases against this character for a minute.

what is the first thing zhan tiri does when cassandra meets her?

cassandra hears a voice calling her name. following it leads her here, to a disembodied (disemwalled?) door in some sort of enchanted forest. this is one of those obviously sketchy situations that instantly puts cassandra on her guard: she draws her sword while getting her bearings.

[sidebar: those light-and-dark green swirls on the forest floor look an awful lot like the clouds in the lost realm, don’t they?]

then:

ZHAN TIRI: There you are, Cassandra!

[Cassandra looks around, sees Blue, and lowers her sword slightly in confusion. Blue approaches her.]

ZHAN TIRI: I’d nearly given up on you.

CASSANDRA: [shaken] Who- who are you?

ZHAN TIRI: A friend. Or, at least—I’d like to be.

cass at this point is baffled but still on her guard - she holds her sword in a low guard and she’s physically leaning away from the unsettling ghost child.

more important here is zhan tiri’s opening gambit. ‘a friend, or at least i’d like to be.’ she’s dodging the question of what her name is, yes. but also the second part of that statement implies a correction of the first, an acknowledgement that they are not friends and becoming friends is contingent on whether cassandra accepts her overtures of friendship; there is, in saying ‘at least i’d like to be,’ an implication of acknowledgement of and respect for cassandra’s personal boundaries. this is not something cassandra has ever experienced before. contrast it with rapunzel’s aggressive, domineering pursuit of cassandra’s friendship in beginnings.

continuing:

ZHAN TIRI: Come.

[She leads Cassandra away from the door, deeper into the enchanted forest. Though hesitant, Cassandra sheathes her sword and follows.]

CASSANDRA: Wherever you’re taking me had better have a blonde princess.

note how the blank confusion on cassandra’s face hardens into a glare the instant zhan tiri says something that could be construed as a command. cassandra has two years worth of experience in the minefield that is friendship with someone in a position of authority and power over her so of course she bristles at this. i think it is also not coincidental that she refers to rapunzel in response.

but there is also a second dynamic at work here. for two years cassandra’s whole life has been locked into orbit around the blinding sun of rapunzel, and even before then by nature of her existence in the palace as a young girl only a little older than the lost princess she would have spent her childhood in the shadow of a child who wasn’t even present. zhan tiri is the first person cassandra has ever met who is flat out indifferent to rapunzel’s existence. even in vardaros, where cass was better liked by the populace than rapunzel, the people still focused on rapunzel - they disliked her, and they cared enough to make sure she knew it.

but zhan tiri does not give a single fuck about rapunzel. she ignores cassandra’s attempt to make rapunzel relevant to this conversation. she called out for cassandra. she has been waiting for cassandra. she has something she wants to show cassandra. she wants to be cassandra’s friend. rapunzel just...doesn’t matter to her, but cassandra does. and that is disarming, both in the figurative and literal sense. so cass puts her sword away and goes to see whatever it is that this strange child wants to share with her.

[They reach the forest’s edge and enter the memory. Cassandra is startled, struck by the familiarity of this new setting.]

CASSANDRA: This place... feels familiar?

[Blue takes her by the hand and leads her into the cottage. She remains silent, allowing Cassandra to take it all in, until Baby Cass enters with her music box.]

ZHAN TIRI: Do you recognize that child?

[Her prompting makes it click for Cass that she’s watching herself as a child.]

again, set aside your knowledge that zhan tiri is an evil villain and your instinctive distrust of everything she says and just... take a look at this screenshot. what does it look like if you take what zhan tiri says in this sequence at face value?

this is a horrible memory. zhan tiri knows precisely what it entails, because she is the one who dredged it out of cassandra’s mind and set it up for her to experience again. cassandra, however, has only just recognized her younger self and has no idea what’s coming. it’s going to hurt her so badly when she remembers everything—but this is an experience she needs to confront in order to heal from the damage it did to her. so much of her suffering can be traced back to this defining, forgotten moment of her childhood.

we the audience know that zhan tiri doesn’t care, doesn’t have any real interest in genuinely helping cassandra, isn’t revealing this memory to her out of the goodness of her heart - but all cassandra knows is that this is a strange ghost who expressed a desire to be friends and has brought her here to, apparently, show her a childhood memory she forgot. so erase your audience knowledge from your brain for a second and look at zhan tiri’s expression here.

she looks weary. sad, even. she looks like someone who truly values cassandra’s wellbeing, who knows that reliving this memory is going to hurt, who’s showing it to cassandra anyway because she thinks cassandra deserves to know and she understands that this is the root cause of cassandra’s pain and that in order to grow and heal it must be seen, it must be acknowledged, it must be examined.

and that is the impression of zhan tiri’s character that cassandra walks away from this experience with. someone who saw her, and saw her pain, and saw the deep festering forgotten wound of this memory buried under layers of repression and denial, and gently unpeeled those layers and brought that wound to light, because she knew cass couldn’t heal from it if she didn’t know it was there.

moving on:

[Baby Cass approaches Gothel with the music box, only to be coldly brushed off.]

CASSANDRA: ...That’s my...

ZHAN TIRI: Mother, yes. It is.

[Skipping transcription of the remainder of the flashback; what matters is that Blue exists the scene at this point. She isn’t just standing quietly in the corner; she is fully gone, leaving Cassandra by herself to experience the rest of the memory.]

again - obviously zhan tiri knows what happens in this memory, but that isn’t the point. by staying just long enough to help cassandra put this memory into context and then leaving, she gives cassandra complete privacy to process what she is seeing and feel whatever emotional reactions she has to it and express those feelings openly, without any of the reservations she might have about having a breakdown in front of a ghost she met a few minutes ago.

again, contrast this to the way rapunzel treats cass. in under raps, when cassandra tells rapunzel that she’s dealing with ‘some stuff’ and asks rapunzel to wait until she’s ready to share, rapunzel’s response is to stalk her. in RATGT, cass tells rapunzel that she feels disrespected and unwanted and rapunzel brushes her off. in RDO, when cass is mad because rapunzel’s reckless choices resulted in cassandra’s hand being mutilated, rapunzel is furious and backs cassandra into a corner in an attempt to force her to share her feelings and then get over it so things can go back to normal.

how soothing, then, must zhan tiri’s quiet departure must be for cass? how comforting, how much of a relief must it be to have this new person recognize by herself that cassandra needs a moment alone and give that to her without cass even needing to ask?

there is, i think, a direct line of causation between zhan tiri exiting this scene and cassandra crying for the first time in the entire series afterwards while zhan tiri comforts her. cass doesn’t cry, right? even when she thinks rapunzel is going to be trapped as a bird forever, she stops herself from crying. she doesn’t cry when her hand is burnt in the great tree, not even from physical pain. she doesn’t cry in RDO.

but zhan tiri is the only person in the whole series who shows consideration for cassandra’s emotional boundaries, so when cassandra is upset after reliving this memory, she freely allows herself to cry, and she lets zhan tiri comfort her.

because it’s safe. so much blame is heaped upon cass for not being more open with rapunzel, but the thing is - a) cassandra is a lot more open with rapunzel than most of the fandom gives her credit for, and b) rapunzel is not a safe person for cassandra to be emotionally open with because she tramples boundaries, doesn’t listen, routinely chooses to hear only what she wants to hear, and never acknowledges or apologizes for any of the hurt this causes cass.

which segues us into this:

ZHAN TIRI: I’m sorry that happened to you, Cassandra. Sometimes the most painful truths are the most difficult to remember. You’ve always felt outshined by Rapunzel, haven’t you? And you always will, unless...

in this statement, zhan tiri:

1 - expresses sympathy for the trauma cass suffered

2 - empathizes with the pain she feels right now

3 - connects the dots between her past trauma and present angst

4 - verbalizes her fear that this pattern will never change

and

5 - offers to help.

zhan tiri is, once again, the only character in the whole series who does these things. in s1, rapunzel does occasionally try to be emotionally supportive of cassandra - under raps and big brothers of corona are the big examples here - but the way she goes about it tends to do more harm than good. in UR she runs roughshod over cassandra’s clearly stated boundaries and continually escalates to the point of actual literal stalking; in BBoC she utterly disregards cassandra’s statements vis a vis how rapunzel can help in favor of doing a bunch of other things that rapunzel thinks cass should want, and in the process she actively interferes with cassandra’s rest and makes her recovery experience worse.

in contrast, zhan tiri gets it. she is absolutely correct in her perception of the situation: cassandra has been trapped in this pattern of inferiority to rapunzel her whole life. her mother abandoned her for rapunzel, and everyone in her life now is willing to sacrifice cassandra’s needs, her feelings, her physical health on the altar of Rapunzel’s Destiny, and that will never change if she continues on as she has been. and... if cass tried to simply leave, by herself, do you really, truly, honestly think rapunzel would let her go?

she feels trapped because she is trapped, and she’s desperate for a way out, and zhan tiri sees that, understands that, and most important of all, shows her a way out.

so like

when she walked through that door in the house of yesterday’s tomorrow cassandra was a heap of emotional pain and unfulfilled emotional needs—for respect, for compassion, for basic consideration of her boundaries, for someone to see how much she’s hurting, for space to feel things without being asked to sacrifice more of herself for somebody else, for someone to care about her and what she needs and thinks and feels and wants, for an escape from the toxic inescapable dumpster fire of her life—and in the space of maybe a couple hours zhan tiri answered every. single. one.

cassandra entered this situation expecting trouble, and instead she got someone treating her with dignity and compassion for the first time ever sO OF COURSE CASSANDRA TRUSTS HER!!

it beggars belief that the show expects me to believe she never bothered to ask what her new friend’s name was between this point and OAH, and yes, if cass were in a healthier place or surrounded by less toxic people then i’m sure she’d be more inclined to be suspicious of the weird little ghost child who reached into her head and pulled out a suppressed memory. but nevertheless it does, in fact, make sense for cass to conclude after this experience that blue is trustworthy and really does care about her and is a better friend to her than rapunzel.

tts was allergic to acknowledging the legitimacy of cassandra’s grievances in any way after s2 and refused to allow zhan tiri even a modicum of depth as a character so the vast majority of their relationship exists off-screen, which is, yes, deeply frustrating and does a huge disservice to both characters and to the overarching plot of the season. but “why would cass trust her?” is a question the series answers, on screen, in spades.

#rta #cassandra #zhan tiri #long post #it sure does suck for cass that her first taste of what an equitable friendship is like #comes from a horrible evil demon who doesn't care about her and is just stringing her along in order to use her #and then none of her actual friends apologize for treating her like DIRT after said demon stabs her in the back #like good fucking lord no wonder she left at the end #anyway as always i say 'morally complex zhan tiri who actually gives a damn about cassandra' rights

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alwayschoppedtaco · 4 years ago

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A Drop of Sunlight - Prologue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader

Tangled AU, Thief!Bucky, Rapunzel!Reader,

Word Count: 584

Chapter Warning: Kidnaping, yeah that's about it

Series Summary: She’s a lost princess with glowing, magic hair. He’s a thief who isn't all that bad. A match made in heaven, right?

A/N: Ah! I’m so excited! This is my first AU that I am publishing on here and it is my baby! Feel free to say what you think about it, feedback is always welcome!

Series Masterlist

Once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens.

And from this drop grew a flower. A flower made of gold and magic.

It had the power to heal the sick and injured. The power to make even the old young again.

Centuries past and kingdoms grew. Just a boat ride away from where the powerful flower grew, a kingdom stood. A kingdom ruled by a beloved king, Anthony Star, and his beautiful queen, Pepper.

And the queen and king were to expect their first child when the terrible happened. The adored queen fell ill. Really ill. And this is about the time where people start looking for a miracle. Or in this case magic.

Tales of a magic flower, able to cure even the deadliest illnesses, had spread around the kingdom. And the king, prepared to do anything for the health of his queen, sent many out to search for this flower.

The flower, however, had already been discovered by an old woman. Mother Gothel, instead of sharing the healing power of the magical flower, hoarded it all to herself, using it to keep her young for hundreds of years. All she had to do was sing a simple song.

But you can’t keep everything good to yourself forever.

“We found it,” A royal guard shouts, “Over here!”

And so, the magic of the golden flower healed the lovely queen and a strong baby girl was born to the royal couple. A beautiful baby with bright golden tufts of hair. All was good and to celebrate the birth of their new princess, the king and queen launched a flying lantern into the sky. Everything in that moment was perfect, until it wasn’t.

Gothel, wanting a little of the magic all to herself once again, snuck into the palace while the happy family slept.

Standing over the crib of the young princess, she began to sing.

“Flower, gleam and glow, let your powers shine, make the clock re-” A gasp left Gothel’s lips as she attempted to cut a strand of the now glowing hair, only for it to turn a dark brown.

And so she did what she new was the only was to keep the magic that this child now possessed to herself. Snatching the now crying child and running off with her and the magic.

The king and queen searched and searched for their lost princess, but they could not find her. For deep within the forest, in a tall, hidden tower, Gothel raised the child as her own.

A few years later. . .

Y/N sat down in front of her mother, allowing the woman to brush her long locks.

“save what was lost, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine.” Y/N sang, as her hair glows gold once again, turning her mother young once again.

Gothel had found her new flower, and she wasn’t going to let her be found as easily this time.

“Mother,” Y/N starts in a small voice as Gothel brushes her long hair. “Why can’t I go outside?”

“Because the outside is a dangerous place, Y/N,” Her mother sighs, “Filled with terrible, selfish people. You must stay here where you are safe, do you understand my flower?”

“Of course, mother.”

But the tower could not block out everything, and every year, on her birthday, the King and Queen released thousands of lanterns into the night time sky, hoping that one day, their lost princess would return.

Ah! Prologue is officially done! Please remember that feedback is always welcome and I love to hear your thoughts and opinions on my writing!

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californiannostalgia · 4 years ago

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Tangled the Series Character Analysis: Childhood Trauma POV

I can't believe Tangled the Series really created two incredible antivillains and threw them in direct contrast with the pre-existing golden couple. I love what the showrunners did with the main quartet, so I made a very subjective analysis post about it from a Childhood Trauma POV. (Spoilers, obviously.)

The Boys

The series' focus is on Rapunzel, and by association her direct opposite, Cassandra, so the boys get comparatively less screen time. But it doesn't take long to figure out that Varian is meant to be a parallel for Eugene—these are two people dealing with the absence of parental guardians, struggling to reconcile the lives they previously had with their changing ideals in relation to a less-than-perfect Father Figure.

They both respond to the helpless state of being young, alone, and powerless by trying to take back power in any way they can. Eugene reinvented himself and buried his desires for a family. Varian throws in everything he has into recovering what he lost, because he's a child and the best solution he can think of is to return to the familiar safety of his father's presence. A significant portion of his desperation is fueled by fear of his father’s disapproval, because as much as Quirin loves Varian, he wasn’t the dependable voice of support. Varian needs approval from outside sources, which was also Flynn Rider’s purpose in life, once upon a time. (Again, parallels.)

Throughout the series, the boys' relationship with each other transforms from exasperated incomprehension to easy understanding. The process is hastened as Eugene lets himself realize he cares a lot about troubled kids who remind him of himself. He becomes aware that children should not be required to survive on their own like he and Lance had. Spurred on by his significant other's love and encouragement, Eugene is able to acknowledge the adverse affects of his childhood on his life and start moving on. His extending a ready hand to Varian is his process of healing. Though Eugene's first priority will always be Rapunzel, he truly wants to save Varian from the uncontrollable volatility of risky decisions because he knows that downward spiral intimately.

Of course, there is a difference between thieving from the rich and planning the destruction of a kingdom. We'll get to that later.

The Girls

Rapunzel and Cassandra are the biggest driving forces of narrative power in the show, and they are survivors of child abuse. Every one of the main quartet has Parent Issues, but Rapunzel takes the crown (figuratively speaking) with this one. She was kidnapped and groomed into a life-giving doll, and she was only able to escape her abusive adoptive mother through incredibly traumatizing means. For Cassandra, it was neglect, and even her loving adoptive father couldn't leviate the scars left on her childhood mind.

They're a classic case of Golden Child vs. Scapegoat, which is a common case seen in siblings raised by Narcissistic parents. When one child is "favored" more than the other, the kids experience vastly different childhoods, resulting in resentment that stems from their inability to understand each other. Rapunzel and Cassandra are both jealous of what the other had—Rapunzel wants Cassandra's casual, practiced ease with freedom and personal agency, while Cassandra wants the attention and respect that Rapunzel is given by the status of her birth. Because they're unwilling to speak candidly about the unique hardships of their childhood, what results is a series of miscommunications that put a strain on their friendship.

Cassandra and Rapunzel both want the other in their lives, but how they attempt to make that connection is very different. Cassandra wants to be a helpful, essential force in Rapunzel's life. Unfortunately, Rapunzel has been raised on the idea that when push comes to shove, no one will help her survive. Cassandra interprets Rapunzel's desire for independence as Rapunzel scorning the connection that Cassandra is attempting to create. Add in some manipulation from an ancient evil, and Cassandra decides she is done exhausting her emotions for Rapunzel.

Rapunzel, on the other hand, wants absolute honesty in her relationships. Gothel raised her on lies, so she spurns deception. But Cassandra knows the merits of protecting herself by holding her opinions in, which is where the misunderstandings occur. Rapunzel cannot trust someone who isn't completely forthright with her. She's tired of dealing with liars, and she grows afraid that Cassandra will cause her the same pain as Gothel did. But the thing is, Cassandra is not Gothel, and Rapunzel loved Gothel. She couldn't save Gothel, but maybe she can save Cassandra. It's not too late.

Rapunzel doesn't know when to give up on Cassandra because she is aware that she and Cassandra are similar people. Giving up on Cassandra would feel too much like giving up on her own hopes for a happy life. Rapunzel can't let Cassandra be unhappy. This princess cares too much, loves too hard. She never learned how to write people off because you can't survive a childhood like hers with that much cheer if you don't hang onto your optimism like a goddamn lifeline.

This is Rapunzel’s method of taking back power for herself: saving others. Rapunzel could have been Cassandra. Rapunzel is trying to believe she herself is worth saving—therefore, Cassandra must be worth saving as well. Rapunzel's significant other is giving her a stable source of love and support, but without a proper resolution to Cassandra's struggles—a final proof that despite Gothel's influence, they can both be happy—Rapunzel would feel incomplete.

The Golden Couple

At the end of the day, Rapunzel and Eugene are fundamentally good people. If it comes down to it, they would be unable to sacrifice the world for their own desires. (Eugene's thievery doesn't count as an expression of true desire because it was literally his method of survival. An expression of true, selfish desire for him might've been something like manipulation and abduction for the purposes of making people stay, but Eugene is not Gothel and he would never do that to anyone in a million years.) (On a side note, Rapunzel's selfish desire might've manifested in the abandonment of all duties and personal connections in favor of eternal exploration, or revenge towards a kingdom that failed to save her, or a thorough destruction of authority figures—but she loves people too much and would never be able to forsake her family.)

Life threw a lot of rocks at them, but these two came through it marginally well-adjusted. They affirmed their love for each other in a violent, unforgettable manner, which makes it easier for them to trust in each other's affection. Eugene would've been okay with never finding his biological father, just as Rapunzel had been okay with her biological parents' inability to protect her. They have no wish to punish the world for what they suffered. They’re content with who they are. They're just glad they made it, that they're finally allowed to love someone without being afraid. They're each other's saving grace.

The Antivillains

This is the difference between Hero and Antivillain: Cassandra and Varian are willing to punish the world for what happened to them. There’s a very faint line between justified retaliation and venting. In their desperation and anger, they cross the line, and they’re unable to stop themselves once they get going. Unlike the Golden Couple, Cassandra and Varian refuse to settle. They want what is owed.

Also, they really, really hate themselves. (This is important.)

Varian believes Quirin is the ultimate source of affirmation. The fact that he lost his father by way of his own dangerous experiment, coupled with the fact that no one prioritizes his call for help in the face of national disaster, is enough to make him feel isolated from the world. Though he is burdened with a growing sense of remorse for his deeds, he doesn’t stop resorting to drastic, harmful measures to get his father back until he is forcefully stopped by betrayal from his allies. He finally makes the full transition from “antagonist” to “protagonist” when Rapunzel risks herself to save Quirin from the rocks. If Quirin could not be saved, there’s a possibility Varian might have stayed an antagonist, unenthusiastic though he may have been in his villainous role. As long as Quirin is trapped in those rocks, Varian remains the villain who put him there.

With Quirin safe, Varian allows himself to take huge steps in healing. He slowly rediscovers his self-worth, one that is separate from Quirin’s approval. Rapunzel—and by extension, Eugene—play the friendly, supportive role to Varian’s ingenuity, helping him along in his quest for self-acceptance. Varian still has trouble working through the heavily ingrained self-hatred, but he recovers enough confidence in his own judgment that he takes Eugene’s warning to heart and is able to install a safety device in his father’s helmet, just in case.

This is the Varian who meets Cassandra in the Tower that once belonged to Gothel. At this point in time, Cassandra has been manipulated into thinking of herself as weak and unimportant in comparison to Rapunzel. Her adoptive father, much like Quirin, was too gruff to be vocal with approvals. Her efforts have not been met with successes. She feels like a failure, and she hates feeling like a failure. This is Cassandra’s method of taking back power: by turning herself into someone unforgettable. If she can make something of herself, she’ll finally be able to prove Gothel wrong. She can be just as special as Rapunzel, if she’s given the chance. She wants that chance.

Similar to Varian, Cassandra doesn’t stop her downward spiral until her supposed ally and mentor betrays her and forcefully takes her power away. Only when there are no options left does she allow herself to admit that she was wrong. She is then rewarded for her honesty with Rapunzel’s love and trust. Armed with a new confidence, the sisters vanquish the evil together in an epic showdown that will long be remembered. Cassandra finally gets her dramatic hero’s tale.

Rapunzel and Eugene have an internal compass that lets them make snap decisions. They don’t have the healthiest self-esteem, but they can at least stand by what they think is right. Comparatively speaking, Cassandra and Varian have terrible self-esteem. They don’t trust their own judgment and are heavily influenced by outside forces. Without the constant barrage of trust and affection from Rapunzel, who is akin to a blazing sun when it comes to personal loyalty, these antivillains might never have reached their redemptive ending. They wouldn’t have been able to let go of their twisted priorities without outside influence. Can’t blame them for it, though.

It’s no surprise that Cassandra and Varian are relatable to many people. Who wouldn’t want to reclaim what was taken from them during childhood? (Of course, the problem occurs when you start hurting others to reclaim what you lost.) Their journey is a different kind of vulnerable from Rapunzel and Eugene’s journey, and it’s extraordinary in its detail. This show is essentially a long exploration of the various ways a parent can mess you up and the coping methods of kids who want to become more than their past, which is totally up my alley of expertise. I’m grateful I got to watch them grow taller than their trauma.

Finally, here’s a parting gif of Lance, because I love him and he’s a well-adjusted ray of sunshine. We all wish we could be as mentally stable as Lance—the main quartet included.

#tangled the series #rapunzel #cassandra #varian #eugene fitzherbert #character analysis #my thoughts #child abuse #trauma recovery #when the villain origin story is self-hatred

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thegreatbigfourmain · 4 years ago

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It wasn’t even a month after her 18th birthday when her stepmother gave her away to the youngest prince of the Burgess kingdom. The blonde sat there in front of a mirror while her maid Toothiana, Tooth, brushed and styled her hair beautifully. Her wedding dress was a stunning gown made of satin that Gothel had specially made to show off her daughter as a prize to be won. It had lace sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, putting attention to her developing curves that she was hesitant to even put on. Gothel still forced her to “keep and hold onto the attention” of her future husband.

She knew nothing of her husband to be other than horrible rumors of him being a demon on the battlefield. It’s said that he kills with just his bare hands and had the strength of an entire army to wipe anyone out. Every time he fought, it was as if a snowstorm wiped away men's lives. Those all these stories aren’t what made her dread this arrangement. What scared her was what if he was just as cruel as her mother is? Is her life just meant to be spent with abuse after abuse? Were those happy days when her father was still alive truly gone from her grasp?

She didn’t notice the tear running down her cheek until Tooth brushing it away broke her from her sad trance.

“Don’t cry Rapunzel. I’m sure he’s not bad as those ridiculous stories make him out to be. And if he is, then I wouldn’t hesitate to bring him down myself!” Tooth said, trying to comfort the poor child.

Rapunzel giggled softly at her attempt, leaning her cheek into her hand before Tooth resumed doing her hair. She was the closest thing she’s ever had to a mother than her stepmother. Her true mother died giving birth to her and Tooth has been her mother’s maid when she was alive. It took all of her father’s strength to ask Gothel for Tooth to stay once they married a few years later. Gothel wanted nothing to do with her mother, turning the once warm palace into a terrifying regime.

“And done. Oh, honey, don’t you just look beautiful…” Tooth whispered off the last part, placing her hand over her heart while trying to hold back tears. If they were tears of happiness or sadness, Rapunzel didn’t know.

The blonde looked at her reflection, admiring Tooth’s amazing work. She made braids at the top of her head that ran down the sides of her face before tying them behind her neck. There were jewels placed throughout her golden locks that sparkled when the light hit them. She wore the necklace of her kingdom Corona; a sun pendant given by her birth mother before she had passed. Since then, she’s never taken it off. It was the only thing she had of her mother. Tooth did another excellent job on her makeup. It was minimal, though accentuated the blonde’s natural beauty tenfold.

“It’s beautiful Tooth… Thank you,” Rapunzel replied as Tooth went to grab the bouquet meant for the ceremony starting soon.

“Of course my child. Now, I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready to come,” The woman said. She placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders to look right into her emerald eyes.

“Now Rapunzel. Even though you’re being married to some prince, I don’t ever, ever want you to forget who you are. A beautiful, strong, confident woman. No matter what Gothel or anyone says. You hear me?”

Rapunzel smiled as tears formed in her eyes. She closed the distance between them to pull Tooth into a tight hug. The woman chuckled at her gesture, wiping some tears behind Rapunzel’s back before gently pulling away.

“Don’t linger for too long or she’ll come to hunt you down,” she joked before leaving the blonde to herself. As she was leaving, Tooth’s hopeful smile turned into a frown upon closing the door.

Now alone, Rapunzel made the realization that she was to be wed without her consent and out of an agreement, not of love like her parents. Hearing stories of their romance from her father made her fantasize about how she too would meet the love of her life. Unfortunately, it was never meant to be.

Rapunzel took the long descent of the last ounce of freedom she had before her marriage with one last sigh. She’s never even met her future husband nor did he ever set foot in her kingdom. Everything was arranged through King Burgess and Queen Gothel. How he looked, his dreams, his goals, or anything about him was a mystery that she didn’t know she would enjoy or fear figuring out.

Too lost in thought while descending the stairs, Rapunzel skipped the last step, causing her to trip. Before she had time to grab onto the railing to keep her from falling, a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She let out a slight squeal as her brain was telling her body it was falling. It then made the connection of someone nearby pressed against her body.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I must have-“ she stopped at the sight of her savior.

He was mesmerizing.

He had the brightest blue eyes she’s ever seen. They were breathtakingly intense that she felt seep into her soul. If she didn't know any better, she swears she saw his irises be in the shape of a snowflake. What surprised her next was his hair. It was a frosty white, though he seemed to be no more than a few years older than her. His facial features were sharp and his jawline chiseled. She knew the number of freckles he had spread across his cheeks mirrored that of the stars in the night sky.

The desire to touch his face grew the longer she gazed into his eyes.

“Are you alright Your Highness?” The beautiful stranger spoke, seemingly concerned.

“Ye-yes… Thank you,” she managed to utter. The man let go of her waist before bowing his head and leaving. It must be one of the guests here for the wedding. Many have come that she’s never met before in her life. The feeling of his arm around her lingered on after he left her gaze. Just who was he?

“Now wasn’t he something?” Tooth’s voice rang the air. The blonde jumped at her sudden appearance, too entranced by the man to notice her surroundings. She gently brushed the woman’s side.

“Oh, hush. I’m to be wed in 10 minutes remember?”

“Anything can happen in 10 minutes my child,” she joked. It only causes Rapunzel to blush a bright pink as she shoved a laughing Tooth towards the ballroom where the ceremony is to be held.

Tooth helped her with the veil that reached the floor and following behind her, completing the beautiful ensemble. Rapunzel took one last look at Tooth, anxiousness clear on her face by the way her brows knitted upward and the slight bite of her bottom lip.

Tooth smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t look at me like that. My offer of running away together still stands…”

Though she knew that joke was only half kidding. Rapunzel gave Tooth one last quick hug before the doors opened before her. As a princess, she was trained to ignore the room and focus on a singular point when entering a room. It’s to establish dominance and power Gothel reminds her, which is exactly what she did.

The closer she reached the front, the tighter she gripped the flower arrangement she held. She could see the outline of the man she was to marry from underneath the veil. Though not obscuring her view completely, it did make it difficult to see. His back was turned to her in the tradition of all loveless weddings.

Was it the lights causing her groom’s hair to be light or was it her mind playing tricks on her?

It wasn’t until she was a few feet away did she notice that the man’s hair was completely white.

Her eyes widened and she let out the slightest of gasps, causing her to stop ahead of the music. Could it be the beautiful stranger from before? There were not many young people going around with a head full of white locks that she knew of.

“What are you doing?!” Whispered an angry voice. Rapunzel glanced to Gothel who pointed to the spot she was to stand beside her groom.

The blonde quickly removed any further thoughts from her mind to continue her path until she was standing right beside her groom. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she tried catching a glimpse from the side to see if her suspensions were correct as the priest before them rambled on. Her groom simply stood there in his regal clothing, black with blue designs meant to represent snow crystal decorated his attire.

Darn it! She was too focused on his face to notice anything he wore when he caught her.

“And do you Rapunzel Corona, take Jackson Overland Frost of the Burgess kingdom to be your husband, for as long as you both shall live?”

“What? Oh! Yes. Yes, I do,” she corrected, bringing the flowers close to her face in a fruitless attempt to hide her embarrassment. She could hear a soft chuckle beside her, no doubt coming from her now-husband. Husband. That’s right. She’s married now, no point trying to pinpoint the stranger as her husband now. What a pathetic rush of excitement she felt before handing over her freedom to someone else.

“I now pronounce these two kingdoms as one. The kingdom of Burgess welcomes Princess Rapunzel of Corona. May God shines brightly on these two,” finished the priest.

Cheers and claps surrounding Rapunzel’s train of thought. It was almost too overwhelming she felt her knees go weak. She nearly fell over until a slight nudge caused her to look down next to her.

“You can hold onto me if you’d like,” said her husband in the midst of all the applause, offering his arm. Rapunzel blushed as she linked her arm with his, blushing even more at how toned it was.

“Thank you,” She replied in a shy voice before finally glancing up to see his face now that they’ve agreed to this union. Her body froze at what she saw.

It was the stranger with the blue eyes.

#inspired by #married to the devil’s son #by #Jasmine Josef #find her on IG @ author-jazzmine #it’s a great plot #drabble #jackunzel #I’ll def continue this dont you worry #along with other drabbles #rough draft I just spent like an hour and a half on so it’s not my best #married to a demon #arranged marriage fic

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atiny-piratequeen · 3 years ago

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since you dont know many german tales, how about the original story of rapunzel?

There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her desire. These people had a little window at the back of their house from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by all the world.

One day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful rampion - Rapunzel, and it looked so fresh and green that she longed for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire increased every day, and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she quite pined away, and began to look pale and miserable.

Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, "What ails you, dear wife?"

"Ah," she replied, "if I can't eat some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our house, I shall die."

The man, who loved her, thought, sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will. At twilight, he clambered down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it greedily. It tasted so good to her - so very good, that the next day she longed for it three times as much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he let himself down again. But when he had clambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before him.

"How can you dare," said she with angry look, "descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a thief? You shall suffer for it."

"Ah," answered he, "let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some to eat."

Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and said to him, "If the case be as you say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one condition, you must give me the child which your wife will bring into the world. It shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a mother."

The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.

Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed herself beneath it and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.

After a year or two, it came to pass that the king's son rode through the forest and passed by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The king's son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest and listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress climbed up to her. "If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I too will try my fortune," said he, and the next day when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Immediately the hair fell down and the king's son climbed up. At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as her eyes had never yet beheld, came to her. But the king's son began to talk to her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she thought, he will love me more than old dame gothel does. And she said yes, and laid her hand in his.

She said, "I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time that you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready I will descend, and you will take me on your horse."

They agreed that until that time he should come to her every evening, for the old woman came by day.

The enchantress remarked nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said to her, "Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up than the young king's son - he is with me in a moment."

"Ah! You wicked child," cried the enchantress. "What do I hear you say. I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have deceived me."

In her anger she clutched Rapunzel's beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great grief and misery.

On the same day that she cast out Rapunzel, however, the enchantress fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off, to the hook of the window, and when the king's son came and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

she let the hair down. The king's son ascended, but instead of finding his dearest Rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him with wicked and venomous looks.

"Aha," she cried mockingly, "you would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it, and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see her again."

The king's son was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did naught but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest wife.

Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at length came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards it, and when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy and contented.

so i have been taught a version that is a little easier on children, where rapunzel was basically safed by her prince and they lived happily ever after. and no birthing twins either. BUT this version has been the one read to children for decades since it was written.

i liked the disney movie, but as usual it glossed over the original everywhere. thats fine tho, it was fiction in the first place and an accurate verion might be more of a thriller, or horror movie... or just a very sad one. it just saddens me sometimes when so much detail is lost. just like malificent wasnt called by her original german name (malefiz) in the german dub of her movie. that irked me greatly.

(also if this is starting to get annoying, tell me!! i just really enjoy revisiting fairytales and telling people about them uwu)

Its not annoying at all. Again, i always appreciate this so much. Plus you're sharing part of your culture, for folklore and fairytales, even those with more wider known adaptations, are still important to people's culture. So even if you tell me a Grimm or something that i do know, i still appreciate it so much.

I know a lot of fairytales have gentler adaptations for the kiddos but ive never seen the traditional one for rapunzel so thank you sm!

#asks #schimmelspore #long post

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