Rapunzel Varian Novels & Stories

Sorin still looked confused. "Oh for god's sake he is rapunzel's boyfriend you stupid idiot" Eira say as she looks at him bewildered. "Wait how does Rapunzel come in this?" Sorin says getting more confused. "Jeez you uneducated pig haven't you seen Tangled??" Eira asks not stopping with her insults. Sorin shook his head indicating that he hadnt seen it. "That's it you stupid, dumb fool. You uneducated imbecile, stay away from me. How come you haven't seen Tangled? How the hell does one live without watching Tangled? It's a freaking crime so you better stay away from me" Eira say indignantly.

*Varek* I found her. I wasn’t even looking for her yet, but here she is. I know this is the princess I’ve been looking for, despite the fact that she’s dressed like a warrior. Her long auburn hair falls around her shoulders in soft waves, and her jade eyes glow with a passion that gives her an ethereal look. No doubt, this has to be Princess Fiona.

Ma and Pa weren’t the most affectionate people, but I knew they loved us in their way. I pulled out the pins from my hair, letting my thick, golden hair come tumbling down in loose waves down my back. My hair was one of my biggest vanities. It was currently at bum length and a huge liability in the sense that it was a very unmistakable feature. Who was going to forget a real-life Rapunzel? Cutting it and dying it a more subtle shade of brown was something I should have done a long time ago but hadn’t. I promised myself that I would, after this last mission.

Maybe she can change her look? Her hair was very long; it cascaded down to her waist. She derived joy from growing out her hair, because of her love for Rapunzel since she was a little kid. But she's now 18, no longer a kid, and she has to get over her obsession with being the second Rapunzel. It might be something she'll regret, but she had to start taking risks in her life. A sigh escaped her lips as she stared at herself, a mix of determination and nervousness etched on her face.

“We agreed not to allow another woman from Muzagah to be sacrificed to the gods of the Suramite to pacify them for Habeb’s sins. We believed that the gods will destroy us if we grant the prince his request. Believe me, my son; I cannot wish to achieve wealth by sacrificing sweet Banabella to Moguzule, that merciless god. Never! She is my daughter. Later, we called out the six girls to spot out the genuine one. It was an easy task. The girls gathered themselves shyly and stood before us for scrutiny. Banabella stepped out. At first, she tried prevaricating; but when scolded by the King to speak only the truth, she said things that were similar to what the prince had said. There were no contra

However, at that moment, something else caught my attention about Valquíria and made me connect some dots in my mind. The transformation she had undergone was remarkable and had made her almost unrecognizable to those who knew her before. Valquíria had become a completely different version of herself. Her previously platinum blonde hair, cut shoulder-length and always straight, was now black, long, and permanently curled. Even her eyes, naturally dark, were now different, as she wore light brown contact lenses, making her strangely similar to... Karen!

Rapunzel ran her fingers over the braid that hung over her shoulder. “It is a lot of hair,” Liam agreed. “We could cut it off at your feet and it still would be very long.” “And hair grows back,” I added. Rapunzel looked at Liam. “It’s magical,” she told him uncertainly. “Cutting it might not be a good idea.” “Can it not be cut?” I asked her frowning. “Does it blunt blades?” “Oh no,” she shook her head. “Gerveine cuts it all the time, but cutting it causes it to grow. You take a foot, and it grows two. Why else do you think it’s so long? This is more than the growth possible in nineteen years of life.”

The once blonde hair shedding itself off into a golden, longer version that was almost similar to Rapunzel’s. “Lena is the treasure?” I whispered, a sharp breath escaping my lips.

0f course, he did. I give Julien a weakened smile and we exchange a few sentences of small talk before I thank him for driving ways here. Waving goodbye from the window as he slips into his car again, I pretend not to rush to the unknown contents that hide inside the white-encased box. There are cursive letters in black, engraved into the cardboard material, reading Matériau Féminin. Gnawing on the skin of my lip, all I do is shake mny head at a parallel memory that comes into mind when we spent time together in this very store, replacing the various lingerie of mine that he has ripped.