I AM 𝑵𝑶 BIRD;

HIS NOSE SCRUNCHED UP, a voice that still lingers in the back of his mind tells him that it’s an unattractive look. no one wants to see his face all scrunched up like that. and it probably would cause wrinkles. he wasn’t exactly getting any younger and should care more about that stuff. but just as quickly as the thought latches to his mind, he shake it right back off. it didn’t matter if he aged. if anything aging was good. and he was sure as hell that rapunzel didn’t mind in the least bit. so why should he. instead, he teasingly scrutch up his nose more, eyes lingering on the chameleon. ❝ I believe that they can both read minds, actually. how can you rule out that max can’t read minds? ❞

he scrunches his nose, making a face, and there's no helping the way her heart suddenly catches, lurching into her throat. why is she breathless at this, the domesticity of it all, sitting and having tea while reading, teasing each other, the possibility of an evening stroll through the garden? the inherent loneliness that came with gothel, the first two decades of her life spent in a seven hundred square foot space with a woman who couldn't show affection — this is so vastly different. there is a love surrounding her that had never been there before, never deigned to make an appearance, that makes her stomach flutter. this is what love is. she wants to lean in and kiss him, eyes softly drifting to his lips and back again, but stops herself. if she started that now, they'd miss the blooming flowers. besides, she can kiss him senseless in the garden in a few moments.

SLOWLY THE PIECES START TO COME TOGETHER. the never leaving the tower. the overbearing mother. it's difficult for him to understand. he’d spent so much of his life without a home. the closest to safe he’d ever spent were his early days in the orphanage which felt like a faded dream. their bellies might not have always been full and the blankets were itchy and thin, but it was the only time eugene ever felt truly safe. yet rapunzel had the opposite. all she’s ever known was home. her mother. maybe she’d been deprived of the world, but she always knew she was safe. always knew she had home unlike flynn. surely they couldn’t actually relate to one another.

bribed! a chuckle from her, he's so . . . rapunzel keeps her gaze locked on his. they're a deep brown, even in the reflection of the firelight, and it reminds her of the dark soil in the plant pots of her tower when they just begin to dry out. he gives her a soft smile, her eyes traveling down to see it, lingering on the way corners curve slightly at his cheek, the faintest mark of a dimple on his cheek. she thinks back to a year or so ago, a book she read where the heroine had noticed the attractive features of her male counterpart: eugene has a strong jaw, and deep eyes; the curve of his smile could shake the legs of anyone it was given to —

IT WAS A GAMBLE. if they were wrong and willingly walking into the royal palace and rapunzel wasn’t the lost princess. then that meant eugene wouldn’t walk away. they send him straight back to the gallows. the self serving voice in his head told him that he was mad. that he literally just felt the final breath of life and was given a second chance to live. and there he was walking right back to his death. there was also no guarantee that they wouldn’t just… take rapunzel away from him and send him to the gallows anyways. sure, they’d have their princess back and the tiara. but he was wanted in so many places. so many kingdoms. he made no attempt to follow royal politics but he was certain allies of corona probably wanted to see his head on a stick.

wringing hands are suddenly grasped, held in his, and for a moment, the weight that sits on her is much lighter than before. what did she do in her life that she deserved him? rapunzel isn't stupid, despite what gothel told her for years: she knows that the minute things turn sour, eugene's life is at stake. or maybe she is stupid — to bring him here, knowing his reputation, knowing that he could be taken. maybe she is selfish; they should turn around now, get out while they can. the only thing stopping her is his words: they celebrate you every single year, after all. how can she deny the pull of the lights? they happen on her birthday, every birthday, every year — they had to have been made for her. it's been five days of straight hell because she had been so convinced the lanterns were for her — doesn't that count for something? shouldn't it?

rise up oh flame, come join the game. they started a frenzy but we'll take the blame. a bare - chested dame who goes by no name — their arsenal's empty, all they got is shame.

@dalaesh, la’harya surana from bioware’s dragon age origins. extremely canon div.

@solehr, rapunzel der sonne from disney’s tangled. canon div with personal lore influence.

@dalaesh, la’harya surana from bioware’s dragon age origins. extremely canon div.

@solehr, rapunzel der sonne from disney’s tangled. canon div with personal lore influence.