#the first interaction she has with another object is with crayon when she finds him passed out in her usual alleyway

[maythray]

Objectober Day 4: Maple

Identity talks with your friend, the corpse :)

(please click for better quality!! rbs > likes!!)

[ordinaryschmuck]

Why I (Want to) Love Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure

Salutations random people on the internet who most likely won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

When I heard Disney was making an animated series based on Tangled, acting as a continuation from the original movie, my initial thought was, "Why?"

Sure, Disney is infamous for its unnecessary sequels of the story after happily ever after, with the many, many, many failures that follow suit. Even then, though, most of these continuations were movies that kind of have the potential to tell more of a story. But what more could be said about Tangled? Sorry to spoil a movie that's over ten years old at this point, but by the end of it: Rapunzel lost her golden hair, was reunited with her parents, fell in love, and lived happily ever after. Her losing the golden hair is the most essential part of that list because how can you do a series based on a Disney princess when her most iconic feature is gone? Then I found out that the series forced a way for her hair to come back, and my new initial thought became, "Oh man. This is gonna suck, isn't it?"

Despite the hesitation, I decided to give it a chance anyway. After all, I've been pleasantly surprised before. Things like My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, The Mitchells vs. the Machines, and even The Owl House (yes, really), were shows (and a movie) that I didn't think would be that special. Only to find myself enjoying nearly every minute. So after watching Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, I can certainly say I was surprised...but it was entirely for the wrong reasons.

And to explain how requires spoilers. So if you haven't checked the series out yet, I highly suggest you do it to form your own opinion. Just keep in mind that it's a bit of a mess, but it can be an enjoyable mess...sometimes...let me explain.

WHAT I LIKED

The Animation/Art Style: The series swapping from 3D to 2D might have been the most brilliant decision anyone could have ever made with this series. Usually, when an animated movie gets turned into a show, the most noticeable downgrade is always the animation. Whether it’s not as detailed or not as fluid, it's always subjective that the movie is better animated than the series. But by switching up the styles, the contrast becomes objective instead. 2D and 3D animation each have their pros and cons, so deciding which one is better is nothing more than a matter of opinion. So by changing the style, Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure avoids getting complaints of being a downgrade from the original movie. It also helps that the art style of the series is really unique.

The best way to describe how the show looks is that it's like a coloring book brought to life. At times, everything looks like it was drawn and colored in with crayons, which sounds like an insult, but in actuality, it's one of the best features of the series. As much as I love most animated shows nowadays, I will admit, they all look a little too similar at times. Then here comes Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, which tries to incorporate a whole new style that successfully sets it apart from most shows.

As for the animation itself, it's really well-made! It's remarkably expressive when required, while the movements are really fluid during the correct scenes. Sure the fighting can be a little floaty during some action set pieces (yes, those exist here), but the dialogue and comedic moments are really where the series shines with its animation. I may have problems with the series as a whole, but I give credit where credit is due for the perfectly executed effort that I see in every episode in terms of animation.

Rapunzel and Eugene’s relationship: This was not something I was expecting to enjoy from the series. In the movie, Rapunzel and Eugene were fine. They were the typical Disney couple that worked off of each other enough that it was always entertaining, even if it was unbelievable that they fell deeply in love with each other after, like, two days. They weren't bad, but they weren't anything to go crazy over.

But the writers for the series said, "You know what, let's make these two adorable in nearly every scene they're in." And they are!

Even though I don't believe in their relationship in the movie, I fully believe it here. Both characters have a large amount of faith in one another on top of having endless love for their partner. Like how Eugene knew Rapunzel would be fine when taking out an airship or how Rapunzel couldn't bring herself to say a bad thing about Eugene when making Cassandra a sparring dummy of him. It's legitimately pleasant to watch, to the point where I put Rapunzel and Eugene in my top ten list of favorite fictional couples. They're that good to me, and it's one of the reasons why I don't jump on the bandwagon of shipping the two main female characters together. I'm all for LGBTQA+ representation, but give Cassandra her own girlfriend. Rapunzel's taken, and most of my enjoyment of this show comes from her and her man. So, you know, keep things as they are.

Cassandra (Seasons One and Two): Seeing how I've already mentioned her, let's talk about Cassandra, shall we? Because when making a series based on a movie that had only four prominent characters, with two of them being comedic animal sidekicks, you're going to need to introduce more members to the main cast to write more potential stories. And Cassandra, in Seasons One and Two (I'll get to Season Three), is a worthy addition. She acts as a strict straight man (I know the irony) who interacts well with Rapunzel and clashes perfectly with Eugene on occasion. She was passably entertaining in Season One and developed amazingly in Season Two. Her growing frustrations with Rapunzel's actions lead to a slow build-up that made her betrayal heartbreaking but somewhat understandable. And as for the results in that betrayal...yeah, I'll get into that later. For now, I'll just say that Cassandra was a pleasant addition to the main cast, especially when she was a part of the main trio, and she's yet another good surprise that the writers supplied for the series.

The Songs: The songs are...not going to be for everyone. Most of them are passable yet kind of generic, while others sound like they belong on Disney Junior (Looking at you, "Bigger Than That"). But when Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure makes a hit, MAN, it is a home run. Numbers like "Ready As I'll Ever Be" and "Nothing Left to Lose" are sung phenomenally, orchestrated well, and are songs I can listen to on repeat multiple times. And "Waiting in the Wings" is not only something I consider to be the best song in the series, but it's also something I'd place as high up on Disney's best due to how f**king incredible it is. "Waiting in the Wings" is a powerful ballad that manages to be both tragic yet inspiring on top of how well it sums up Cassandra as a character. The writers may not always be on top of their game when it comes to music, but songs like these prove that they know how to earn that Disney name.

And that’s all I have for the likes...Oh boy. That’s not a good thing is it?

WHAT I DISLIKED

It Peaked at Season One: It did. It really did.

Season One felt like the writers had a grip on what type of show they wanted: A slice-of-life series with Rapunzel dealing with the issues of her kingdom with a meager threat of these black rocks growing in the background. It was all cute and well-balanced for the most part, but that all disappears in Season Two. Because now it's sort of about this adventure, but because Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure set itself as a slice-of-life series, there need to be these small-scale stories that intertwine the grand narrative being told. The issue is that the story comes to a grinding halt one too many times as fans are forced to sit through these filler episodes that, while not all of them are bad, still feel like a distraction. And by Season Three, the series does feel more focused while having some slice-of-life episodes added to the ongoing story instead of distracting us from it. But the writing isn't as strong, there are several plot holes in the narrative (how did Rapunzel's sunstone get into her dress?), and there is way too much time going back and forth on Cassandra's morality. They claim that she's a villain while arguing that there might still be some good in her, and they continue this train of thought for nine episodes when it really could have been settled in two. For me, it's a bad sign for a series when the first season is the best one. Because if it's all downhill from there, what's the point of even watching?

It Tries to be Epic: This might have been the worst decision the writers could have made.

Now, here's the thing: I don't mind grand epic tales of adventure and battles against demons. If anything, I'm all for them...when it's appropriate and fits with the tone of the series.

Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure suffers a similar problem Frozen II has, in which the writers felt like a big, life-threatening adventure was the perfect continuation of a meager, personal story about the relationships of characters. It isn't. If anything, it's completely missing the mark about what the original story was about. And sure, sometimes writers can succeed in telling personal stories through grand adventures. Just look at The Owl House and parts of Amphibia. But with those shows, it's established within the first few episodes that action and peril will be a series staple. With Tangled, while there was some action and peril, it's all very subdued compared to how high the stakes got raised in later episodes in the show. Especially in the series finale.

And, I mean, c'mon. You're making Rapunzel an action hero?

Judy Hopps? Yes.

Moana? Maybe.

Raya? Most definitely.

But Rapunzel? The character who’s all about optimism and seeing the best of others. That's the character you're going to morph into a hero that fights against an evil demon laid dormant for years? Did you even watch the original movie? Yeah, sorry, but I just don't buy it.

If you want to tell an epic story that gets the blood pumping for fans addicted to adventure, go for it! See where the wind takes you. But make sure to set that tone as early as possible while also making sure that it fits with the characters. If not, the end result is a series that feels like it's trying to be something it’s not.

Eugene is Kind of an Idiot at Times: It should be noted that Movie-Eugene and Series-Eugene are practically two different characters. In the film, Eugene was more or less the straight man, as he often questions the wackiness in the world around him and keeping Rapunzel grounded in reality. For the series, most of that personality got transferred to Cassandra. Thus making Eugene's new role in the series act as the egotistical imbecile. Sure, he had those moments in the film, but not as frequently, and it really pains me when the writers really lean hard into a minor aspect of his personality. Sometimes there are moments when Eugene acts like his original self. But it's all small scenes that are spread apart with entire episodes where he has half a brain cell. I'm sure some people didn't mind this change to the character, but as someone who adores the movie version of Eugene, I can't help but feel disappointed.

The Villains are the Worst: Now, I don't mean the one-off villains that show up, cause some chaos for a bit, and disappear at the end of the episode. Those are characters with fun personalities, occasionally cool designs, and do their job as villains of the week. It doesn't matter if their motivations are laughably simple, as their purpose is to be enjoyable characters above anything else. So I actually enjoy those villains...it's the ones that act as season-long antagonists that really grind my gears.

The purpose behind these types of foes is to build up how evil they are throughout the season. The issue is that the writers try to give these characters, or at least two of them, a point. To be fair, this can work. Just look at Killmonger from Black Panther and sometimes Karli Morgenthau from The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. You understand and probably even sympathize with the logic and reasoning these characters have. It's just that their actions couldn't be farther from what you would do. The problem with Varian and Cassandra is that they have the motivation, but it's not written suitably for the story.

Cassandra is a whole can of worms I'll get to in a minute, but Varian is someone I can easily discuss for a brief time. Because while I can comprehend his pain for having his father frozen in yellow rock, I don't think turning evil is the best decision to go with that character. Because A. Everything is his fault. He blames Rapunzel for not helping him, but even if she didn't have a crisis to deal with, there was nothing she could have done to stop it. His frustrations are not only unjustified, but given the fact that this wouldn't have happened if he listened to his father in the first place, it feels like him becoming evil is too drastic of a turn. And B. Varian worked much better as a supporting character rather than a primary antagonist. He was just this hopeful, if not a clumsy scientist who wanted to prove himself, who causes minor catastrophes due to not thinking ahead. Turning a character like Varian into a villain is a bit of a misstep because if the guy acts hilariously incompetent as a good guy, it makes little sense to have him be intelligent and ten steps ahead of Rapunzel when being evil. If he were to become more serious and careful when helping the rest of the main cast, I'd consider that character progression done properly. But becoming a villain is just an overreaction.

However, none of that compares with my issues with the main antagonist of the series: Zhan Tiri. This goes back to my problems with the series making itself too epic. Because if Zhan Tiri existed in any other show, I probably wouldn't have any problem with her. She's built up well throughout all three seasons and is kind of threatening at times. But she doesn't belong in a series based on a movie that dealt with a small, personal issue where it wasn't even the character who killed the villain in the end. It was her love interest and animal sidekick. Even if Zhan Tiri works well as a character, the fact that it doesn't feel like she belongs in the show makes her too distracting to enjoy. And that's why these villains suck. If not poorly written, they don't belong in a series that should focus on small-scale issues. And if you can functionally write an antagonist that appears for only one episode but flounder with ones that show up in several, well, that's just embarrassing.

Cassandra (Season 3): OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH BOY, do I have some words to express with this character. Like with Movie-Eugene and Series-Eugene, Cassandra from Seasons One and Two is frustratingly different from the psychotic IDIOT from Season Three. Basically, just take the issues I have with Varian, multiply them by ten, add them with some bafflingly stupid decisions, and you still wouldn't get how much Season Three-Cassandra frustrates me!

First off, her motivation...what the f**k were the writers thinking? The big reason why Cassandra betrays Rapunzel and motivates all of her misdeeds was that Cassandra's mother was Mother Gothal...EXPLAIN THAT LOGIC TO ME?! Because Cassandra should know what type of woman Mother Gothal was. She should know what Mother Gothal did to Rapunzel in the first eighteen years of her life. So how is Cassandra being abandoned by Gothal the central motivator to cut ties with Rapunzel, who is probably an even bigger victim in this scenario!? Seriously, Rapunzel was cut off from the rest of the world and treated as an unknowing prisoner because she was beneficial to Gothal. Cassandra was adopted into a household with mutual love and got to actually live her life. In no way does it make sense for her to be angry at Rapunzel.

Nor does it make sense that the writers try to play it off as a good thing in the song "Crossing the Line!" Sure, it sounds nice, but thematically, it gives across the opposite feelings that the audience should have. Because if Cassandra cutting ties with Rapunzel is meant to be tragic and awful, why is the music suggesting it's the best possible thing that's ever happened for the character? If you like the song, fine, but even you have to admit that it's thematic nonsense.

But, sure. Cassandra's evil now, and she considers it a good thing. Whatever. I'll take it as long as it leads to good stories...but here's the thing: In the penultimate episode before the three-part series finale, Cassandra asks a question. A question I would have never expected her to ask, despite everything that has happened in the last season. A question that was so baffling, I had to legitimately pause the episode to process the fact that she asked something so stupid. Because Cassandra, the character who is intelligent and grounded in reality, asked, "Am I the bad guy?"

I was honestly shocked to find out she was shocked! How, in the flying, everlasting, cock-a-doodle-doodling F**K does a person like her not pick up that maybe, just maybe, she isn't the hero in this story!? Call me crazy, but endangering the lives of people you once called friends and family, dressing in black, AND HAVING A GIANT EVIL-LOOKING TOWER MADE OUT OF F**KING SPIKES aren't qualities I would give to a hero!

If Cassandra was like Thanos, a character so wrapped up in his ego that he can't even notice how evil he is, I would understand. But she doesn't have an ego. Anger, yes. But for the most part, her personality is based on having logic and reasoning. So turning her into a villain and having her unaware that she's a villain is an act of lunacy that I am incapable of understanding. I don't know who's idea this was, but whoever is to blame...you've got issues.

>Sighs<...This series isn't good, is it?

IN CONCLUSION

I like the animation and some of the characters...but that's not enough. Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure is a mess of a show that tries to do too much for a story that should have so little. Meaning that it's a D+ for me. I want to enjoy it and give it a higher grade, especially with how much I hear people praise this series. And if you do enjoy it, all the power to you. Your opinions are valid, even if I highly disagree with them. Because for me, this is a show that I won't get myself tangled up in again in the future.

[roryeu]

task one: questionnaire.

001. how did your muse find out about being a demigod, and how did they react?

as a child, rory knew there was something different about him. he never made friends easily, other children were afraid of him. he was never invited to play with people on the playground and, at his mother’s insistence, when he tried joining without asking, they just brushed him of and left to do something else. even his teachers found him off putting, though they were better in not showing their prejudice against a child.

his mother promised she would explain everything to him when he was older, that it was okay that he was different and that differences were what made for variety, otherwise life would be boring. her words had made him feel better, she had made him feel better, just with her presence. to rory, there was nothing that couldn’t be solved by spending time with his mom. and like all children, he liked making or giving her stuff that showed his appreciation. macaroni glued to a picture frame? check. drawn pictures in crayon of the two of them hung up on the fridge? check.

but also like all children, he liked sparkly objects and when he saw something red and glittery in the ground, he brought it to his mom because he thought it was beautiful like her. he thought she would like it. being told to put it back where he found it and quickly had almost broken his heart because he thought she didn’t like it. but later that night, she said it was another thing she would explain to him when he was older.

she never got the chance to explain.

finding out his true parentage wasn’t something happened until years down the line. a fury, though he hadn’t known the name of it, attacked him while he walked home from school as a teenager. when he found shelter at a camp in the hills of scotland and finally had everything explained to him, things clicked.

the reaction wasn’t pretty. he spent the majority of his first night at camp, miraculously without a scratch, asking the older kids if they had alcohol, any kid of alcohol, or cigarettes, or weed. a hermes kid two years older had supplied him with tequila and he spent the majority of his night in his cabin (alone, as he always was) getting drunk for the first time.

002. how does your muse’s mortal family feel about them being a demigod?

there isn’t a single soul still alive that rory considers part of his family. the twin sister he’d never known had died when they were born (rory blames that on himself as well, after learning that he was the reason, he’d taken all the nutrients and she couldn’t survive). his mother died of a disease that had come on rapidly and taken her life just as fast despite having been on the mend. the foster families were close enough, maybe, but not enough that he feels close.

the rhodes were the closest thing he would get to a family and he has never viewed them as parents. even as a kid, he referred to them by their first names, the entire time he’d been in their care. they were easily the best of the bunch when it came to the foster families he’d been placed into throughout his youth, he lasted three years with the rhodes. there had even been talks of adopting him when he had started to make progress in therapy and he began opening up little by little. that same week he’d been attacked by the fury and had run.

sending them a letter explaining that it wasn’t their fault was one of the hardest things he’d had to do. he didn’t explain even a fraction of the full story, rationalizing to himself that they were safer if they didn’t know the truth about him. they haven’t seen him in eight years but they keep in contact with letters. he always leaves out the details about where he is, about what he is, despite them asking almost every time. he just promises that he’s safe. they always tell him that they love him but he never says it back.

he might not see them as his parents, but they see him as their son.

003. when did they get claimed by their godly parent?

for most demigods, they get claimed by their parent after their true nature comes to light and their godly parent can no longer deny it. even so, it has to be when the child was no older than thirteen. at thirteen, rory was getting attacked by a fury and led to camp by a ghost, the first and one of the few times he’d been able to summon a spirit.

the second he’d found people inside the camp, the director looking him over for scratches, which he was surprisingly without for having a fury on his ass the entire way across the country, was the second a glowing skull and crossbones appeared over his head. rory kinnon, son of hades.

004. did they attend a camp?

camp, like everything else in his life, was a mixed bag for rory. at camp, he had his first kiss, his first drink, his first heartbreak. the bad outshone the good, like always. he was alone in his cabin there, as there weren’t too many children of hades to begin with (rory doubted he strayed as often as other gods and goddess did). he never made any effort to be included, as he had been burned and shunned too many times in his childhood to make that mistake again but sometimes he got included anyway. and despite the protests, the begrugding attitude as he went along with it, he was always thankful to at least feel like he belonged. after all, wasn’t everyone at the camp an outsider at one point in their life.

when he was fourteen, he’d found himself in a relationship with a son of athena, parker. the relationship lasted less than a year but rory still regards him as one of the only people that he’s ever actually cared about and who cared about him.

from that point on, it just solidified the idea that him being around other people was bad luck. he hated himself for interacting with someone who had less than a year before they died. he thought it would be okay and maybe he could change it.

005. was your muse ever sent on any quests?

parker going on a quest was the closest rory had ever come to going on one himself. when he was packing that night, rory had been in the athena cabin, trying to convince him to change his mind. they’d only allowed three demigods to go on the quest, anymore would draw too much attention, and rory had been told that he wasn’t going. the entire night, he was plagued with visions of how parker would die and he thought, maybe if he went with them instead of some vapid daughter of aphrodite, he would die in parker’s place. he was of more use to the world than rory was. people would be upset to lose parker. no one would feel that way about rory.

despite being told to stay at camp, he’d tried shadow traveling for the first time when he started to feel antsy waiting for parker to get back. he wasn’t allowed to go on the quest but what the camp directors didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

shadow traveling wasn’t one of the few things he was naturally gifted at. through sheer dumb luck, he’d managed to get himself to the right place but it had exhausted him so much he hadn’t been able to save parker when the moment came. at most, he had parker’s head in his lap as he died and threatened the other demigods on the quest with death if they told anyone he had been there.

006. what’s their relationship with their godly parent?

hades is not dad of the year as far as rory is concerned. everything that has ever gone wrong in rory’s life could be attributed to him in one way or another. the death of his first, and only, boyfriend had plagued him thanks to his gift of sensing death.

he wouldn’t have ever met parker if his father hadn’t sent a fury to chase him, scaring him enough that he summoned a ghost without even realizing it to lead him to camp, where he would be safe.

he wouldn’t have needed to be chased to camp if his mother hadn’t died as a direct result of misfortune falling her after rory gave her one of the gems he found in the ground as part of his ferrokinesis. she would have told him and taken him to camp herself.

he wouldn’t have been born if hades didn’t take an interest in his mother to begin with.

rory refuses to hold his tongue when speaking ill about his father. he regularly curses him out, talks shit, and speaks as if he was speaking directly to him, though the words have never once been spoken with kindness. he doesn’t fear retribution.

what’s the worst that happens? hades sends someone an infernal army to kill him. if there was even a chance of it happening, rory would step foot outside of the safety of eonia and tell him to do it already.

007. your muse’s favorite part about being a demigod?

there are very, very few things rory considers a perk of being a demigod and the only one he actually enjoys is the means of making money. though taking gems from the ground brings misfortune to others lives, rory cares very little for other people and happily takes all of the gems he brings to the surface. self taught, he cuts them and makes jewelry out of them, selling them on etsy. there’s mail going out from him on any given day, which is more money going into his pocket.

along with that, rory has moments where he enjoys being a son of hades. people have always been put off by him and as a child, it was upsetting. he hadn’t been doing anything wrong as a kid, he just wanted to make friends. as an adult, making friends is the absolute last thing he wants. and while some people aren’t necessarily affected by the air of ... off that comes with being a child of hades, there tends to be a disconnect from him and the rest of the student body.

008. your muse’s least favorite part about being a demigod?

rory can count the amount of people on one hand that he’s close with. (it’s zero.) his relationships are superficial at best and nonexistent at worst. being able to sense death is a curse in and of itself. after being there while two people died, the grief is endless and he knew it was coming. he would rather have it be a surprise, as horrible as it is, when people die. to be able to spend time with them and enjoy it while it lasts, not be counting down the months, weeks, days, minutes, until someone meets their end.

he would give anything to be able to just be without seeing someone’s death ahead of them.

009. what’s your muse’s weapon and battle proficiency?

his weapon of choice is stygian iron knife. he had summoned the iron from the ground once after hours of concentrating and had promptly taken it to a hephaestus camper who would be able to craft something out of it far better than he ever could. there wasn’t enough there to make a sword so he settled for a knife. a weapon was a weapon and this one was deadly to anyone who pissed him off.

along with that, he is pretty handy with a bow and arrow, though not even close to the children of apollo’s skills. he’s used stygian iron to make arrowheads and treats them with the most care possible. stygian iron goes through the river styx to be made and being able to bring any at all to the surface is a gift he was unwilling to overlook.

[lady-divine-writes]

Acceptance (Rated PG13)

Summary:

While waiting for his husband to finish up a job at a local library, Crowley runs into a little girl with a problem he can relate to. (2474 words)

Notes:

I'm a little soft for Crowley interacting with kids. I do not apologize. XD

(AO3)

“Uggggggggh!” Crowley groans, long and obnoxious, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Why did you have to drag me to a library, of all places?”

Aziraphale side-eyes his husband, gasping in offense. “I didn’t! You stopped me as I left and begged me to bring you!”

“But if I’d known you were going to the library …!”

“Those were the first words out of my mouth! I literally said, and I quote - I’m headed to Tooting Library. Be back in an hour!”

“Oh, yeah. Right. That’s where the hiccup came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t get past the name.” Crowley chuckles. “Tooting.”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake.” Aziraphale reaches for the door handle but Crowley gets to it first, opening the door for his husband the way he has taken to lately – one of many small habits he developed the moment they said I do.

“Anyway, not my fault,” Crowley declares, following him inside.

“What!?”

“And I’m glad we’ve agreed there was a misunderstanding. But now that we’re here, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, call me an old silly, but this is a library. A place of higher learning.” Aziraphale leads Crowley through the bookcases to the children’s section, where he’s been commissioned to help sort through the older books in their collection to see if they’re worth anything. “You could read.”

Crowley snorts in objection. “Pass.”

Aziraphale scans the room, looking past the books, books, and more books, searching for anything that might occupy his disruptive demon for a spell. “There’s a computer in the corner.”

“Meh. I have an iPhone.”

“There’s a mini theater. It looks like they’re playing The Adventures of Paddington Bear. That sounds like it might be up your alley.”

“And why’s that? Because he’s cute and cuddly?”

“Because I find him as hard to swallow as a bag of wet chips.”

“Rude.”

Aziraphale sighs. “There are coloring pages and crayons on that table over there.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“You’re the one who used to fraternize with Renaissance painters. All those nudes of Lucifer you inspired. Maybe you could try a hand at being a part of the artistic process with your clothes on for a change.”

Crowley chooses to neither confirm nor deny, overlooking his angel’s spiteful tone in favor of examining the little round table and equally tiny chairs, the assortment of black and white pictures available to color and two brand new boxes of 64 crayons. After a moment of scrutiny, and knowing that his options are limited, Crowley shrugs. “Yeah. All right.”

“Good. Now please remember there will be children about.”

Crowley spins the largest of the small chairs around and straddles it. “Yeah? And?”

“Keep the gore to a minimum.”

“You say that as if children don’t love gore.”

“They don’t!”

“They do! In fact, most kids under the age of twelve can imagine up stuff way scarier than I could ever come up with, I’ll tell you that.”

Aziraphale scoffs. “How do you figure? Cite your source.”

“You obviously didn’t spend the kind of time with Warlock that I did, angel,” Crowley mutters, grabbing a red crayon from the box and starting in on a picture of King William III, remastering it to depict how the monarch looked on his death bed, wasting away from pneumonia after suffering from a broken collarbone, a consequence of falling off his horse.

Aziraphale considers Crowley’s explanation, his eyes bouncing back and forth as he tosses it about in his head. “Fair point. Now sit tight, don’t wander off, and play nice with the other children. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Toodles,” Crowley says, thinking, ‘But there are no other children.’ He grins and grabs another picture, this one of Queen Anne, and eagerly begins another vulgar rendition.

***

Aziraphale’s promised hour passes and Crowley has blown through all the coloring pages. He looks at his stack of dead monarchs and sighs. It was rather inconsiderate of him to color them all, he realizes, but he’s so damned bored. He snaps his fingers, returning the pages to their previous pristine and uncolored conditions when a squeaky voice says, “I like your glasses.”

Crowley looks up and sees a girl sitting across from him. How she managed to sneak up on him in this big, open room, with no one else in it but himself (being ten a.m. on a Tuesday morning when most kids are in school) he has no idea, but nonetheless, there she is, smiling at him, wearing a bright pink frock and a pair of dark sunglasses with cat eye frames.

“I like yours, too,” he says.

“Thanks.” She pinches her lips together, flustered by the compliment. “May I ask you a question?”

“Yes, you may, but only because you’re being so polite.”

“Are you blind?”

Crowley shakes his head. “Nah. I just don’t like people looking at my eyes. It makes them uncomfortable.”

“Same.”

Crowley raises a quizzical brow. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She reaches up and adjusts her frames, pushing them unnecessarily up her nose. “I have this thing. It’s called heterochromia iridis.”

“Wow. Those are some big words for such a little girl.”

“It just means that my eyes have different colors. I’m starting school soon, and my mum thinks it’ll freak the kids out. But I think it’s cool.”

“I’m sure it is. May I see?”

“Um …” Crowley can’t see her eyes. Her lenses are as dark as his. But he can see her eyebrows moving up and down as she deliberates between yes and no. But she shrugs to herself and says, “Okay,” taking off her glasses with her eyes closed. When she opens them, Crowley can see why some mortals might be bothered.

Not because her eyes are grotesque. Actually, the combination of brown, hazel, and blue that her right eye contains in defined segments like a pie chart, her left eye blue-green and much darker than her right, is quite mesmerizing.

But because mortals can be stupid when confronted with something different than themselves.

But because mortals are easily frightened by the slightest things.

“I like them,” Crowley says, giving her a smile.

“Do you really?”

“I do.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s a shame you have to hide those eyes. I think they’re incredible.”

“Me, too.” She sits up straighter, her confidence growing. “I think they’re special. And I like being special, but it gets lonely.”

“Why’s that?”

She looks down at her glasses, folding them carefully and setting them in front of her. “I’ve never seen someone else like me. Not in real life. Just in pictures they show at the doctor’s office. What I have is rare, but I know other people have it. It gets easy to forget sometimes. I wish I could see one other person with eyes like mine. Not even like mine, just … different.”

“I see,” Crowley says, chewing his lower lip. He sits up in his chair and takes a quick glance around. Still nobody else there, not as far as he can see anyway. He leans forward, nearly touching her forehead with his own across this thimble of a table. “I might be able to help you with that.”

The girl peeks up at him, catches her reflection in his lenses, and smiles. “Really?”

“A-ha. If I show you something, promise not to freak out?”

She giggles at the reference. “I promise.”

“And don’t. tell. anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“Cross your heart?”

“And hope to die!”

‘Don’t hope that,’ Crowley thinks, taking off his glasses the same way she did, with his eyes closed. When he opens his eyes and fixes them on her, her jaw drops, but her stunned expression gets immediately replaced by the widest smile he’s ever seen on a child.

On anyone, really.

Except his Aziraphale.

“No way those are your real eyes!” she says, grinning with glee. “Those have to be contact lenses!”

“Nope. They’re real. They’re a might bit rarer than yours, but they’re real.”

“I’ll bet!” she says. Suddenly, her whole face lights up. “Wait! I know this!” The girl reaches into her pocket and pulls out a phone. She swipes the screen, goes to Google, and types. When she finds what she’s looking for, she turns the screen to Crowley. “You have this, don’t you?”

Crowley peers at the screen, at the picture she looked up of a pupil deformity called ‘coloboma’. She’s right. For a mortal deformity, it does look kind of like his eyes. He doesn’t think he could get away with not wearing his glasses and claiming this condition. The otherworldly aura of his eyes is unmistakable to most mortals.

Curious that this little girl doesn’t seem to catch it.

“Close enough,” he says. “You sure do know a lot about this stuff.”

The girl sighs deeply like a sage, old witch, and stows her phone in her pocket. “I’ve been dealing with eye doctors for a while now. It’s become an occupational hazard.”

“I can see that.”

“So you and I ... we’re the same, aren’t we?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Crowley smiles, but it’s sadder than the rest. ‘No,’ he thinks. ‘If all goes well, in 80 years, Heaven will have you.’

“Lizzie? Dearest? Where are you?”

“That’s my mum,” Lizzie whispers to Crowley as if it’s a huge secret. “I’m here, Mum!” she calls.

“Come along! We have to go!”

“Coming! It was nice to meet you, mister,” she says, offering Crowley her hand. Crowley doesn’t hesitate to shake it.

“Nice to me you, too. Lizzie.”

Crowley watches Lizzie double check her pockets for her phone, then collect her glasses. She considers them a second but doesn’t put them back on. Instead, she slides them in her pocket, then skips away toward the front door. Crowley doesn’t know if she’s going to put them on outside, or if her mum will make her. But he’d rather believe that she doesn’t, and that she won’t from this day forward.

All because she met a demon at a coloring table in a library called Tooting.

“It seems you made a friend,” Aziraphale says, miracling up an adult-sized chair and sitting down in it.

“I guess so.” Crowley starts fussing with the coloring pages, stacking them in order by dates of reign and setting them neatly to one side. He reaches for his glasses resting on the table, but Aziraphale catches his hand before he can slip them on.

“Is something bothering you, dearest?” he asks, tilting his head to catch his husband’s eyes. “You seem a little upset.”

“That depends ... how much of that did you hear?”

“All of it. I came out of the office right as Lizzie sat down.”

“And you didn’t think to rescue her from me?”

“Ah, you see, that’s self-pity talking. Children are the last people on this planet who need rescuing from you, my dear. Besides, I wanted to see what the two of you would do.”

Crowley shakes his head. He looks from Aziraphale’s eyes down to his glasses, the blacker than black lenses he orders special absorbing the mid-morning sun and reflecting it back as a cast of false midnight. “I could have snapped my fingers and fixed it for her. That would have been a good thing, wouldn’t it? A blessing? No possibility of kids making fun of her, no more helicopter parents forcing her to wear those glasses. But it just … it didn’t feel right.”

“It wouldn’t have been,” Aziraphale says. “Not every problem in the world requires a magical fix. In fact, not every problem is a problem.”

“Now, you see, that’s just ridiculous!” Crowley snaps.

“Why is that?”

“Because a problem is a problem. By its very nature, but its very name. That’s why we call them problems. And what she has is a problem.”

“She did have a problem, but it wasn’t her eyes.”

“What was it then?” Crowley grouses, growing tired of Aziraphale trying to help him find the answer instead of outright telling him what it is. Crowley recognizes that that’s Aziraphale’s job in a nutshell - to inspire humans to solve their problems.

But Crowley’s not human. He needs a bit more help finding the answers.

“She’s lonely. Or she was. She wanted to find someone like her, to feel less alone in the world. And she did. She found you. And you found her, I’d say, whether you knew you needed to or not. It’s a power that humans have that angels – and demons, I imagine – find difficult to comprehend. We’re so used to snapping our fingers and changing things that the steps in between are lost on us.”

“And that power is …?”

“Making a connection. Sometimes the solution to a problem isn’t in the fixing. It’s in finding someone who understands. As immortal beings on this planet, weaving our way in and out of people’s lives, it’s something we tend to overlook. Something we tend to avoid, really.” Aziraphale puts a palm to Crowley’s cheek and turns his demon to face him. “I want you to know how proud I am of you.”

Crowley starts to roll his eyes but stops. He doesn’t want to blow this off. He wants his husband to be proud of him. Aziraphale is an Angel of God who chose to risk everything and marry a demon. He should endeavor to make Aziraphale proud every single day.

“You are?”

“I am. I believe you were being tested. And you passed with flying colors.”

“Ugh,” Crowley groans, grabbing his glasses and putting them on before he does something truly asinine – like become teary eyed. “I guess if you’re going to be tested, a library’s as good a place as any for it. Higher learning and all that.”

“True.” Aziraphale makes to stand but Crowley grabs him by the elbow, pulls him gently back to his seat.

“Have I ever told you that you’re very good at your job?”

Aziraphale chuckles. “Owning a bookshop?”

“Inspiring humanity. To be honest, it’s not something I ever considered. It isn’t something … I was ever charged to do. But angels are angels, right? They do good deeds and get in our way. When something would come up and you took a step back, said you couldn’t interfere with the Divine Plan, I didn’t understand. But I think I’m beginning to.”

Aziraphale smiles. He leans in and gives his demon a kiss. “It’s nice that somebody does. And I’m glad that someone is you. Come along, dear.” He stands, grabs his husband’s arm and helps him out of his tiny chair. “I think you’ve had enough library for today.”

“Aw, really?” Crowley shakes out his long legs, getting them accustomed to standing upright again. “I was hoping we could pop into the mini theater and, you know, not watch the movie.”

Aziraphale laughs. “And you’re back.”

[polarishq]

Meet NADEZHDA “Nadia” STERANKA. They are SIXTY years old and hail from ODESSA, UKRAINE . Nadia embodies the star, CAYREL’S STAR. They use she/her pronouns. Their faceclaim is STAV STRASHKO.

Cayrel reminds me of messy ponytails, childhood crayon drawings, radio static, scraped knees and dirty feet from running barefoot, glass coke bottles, a lucky pair of socks, smudged eyeliner, a daughter in nothing but title, cracked mirrors (seven years bad luck but who’s to say its your bad luck?), wishing wells, a love of all colors but red, iced coffee as the superior beverage, moral ambiguity, and carefully tended grudges.

BIOGRAPHY

The thing about little girls (even little girls raised in the tail end of communism ; even little girls once mistakenly thought to be little boys) is that they know how to embrace the world as their playground. Nadia was born to a flaky mother and absentee father, but her circumstances were inconsequential. What she lacked in wide open fields, she made up for in creating an imaginary world that stretched as far as her street’s long row of Soviet-era apartments. What she lacked in decent parental figures, she found in the care and acceptance of her maternal grandfather. What their community lacked in wealth, Nadia replaced with an imagination that turned their limited space into her own fairytale world 

It helped that her grandfather (unlike her mother) encouraged her in everything she did, even when communism tried to dictate everything outside of their home. All Nadia need to do was ask, and he’d do whatever was in his power (both figuratively and literally, using magic) to make it happen, up to and including the day Nadia asked that he stop referring to her as his grandson. A few memory charms on the people they interacted with on a regular basis (to simply reintroduce Nadia by her gender identity would’ve been dangerous for the time), and that was that. Looking back on it, Nadia can note the distasteful switch in her mother’s interactions with her after that point, but did that really matter? To her, no. Her family was her grandpa and their neighborhood, and what remained were footnotes to her story.

Nadia never had to learn of the existence of magic — it was all around her from day one, so most of her formative years were spent awaiting her own star mark. When it finally appeared though, in the crook of her elbow at age twelve, no one could really tell her what it meant. Which sucked, but at least it meant Nadia had powers, and that was something, right? The entire story of how she discovered her magic is rather simple. She’d been walking down her apartment hallways, idly thinking about a pair of earrings she’d seen on a model in a magazine, when she stopped to look in the hall mirror. When she saw herself exactly as she was, except wearing the same earrings she’d been imaging, she had to reach out to make sure she was really looking in a mirror. Her hand passed clear through the glass, and then back towards her with the earrings folded in her fist.

You shouldn’t give a twelve year old that kind of power, much less a twelve year old growing up in that environment. She knew enough not to go overboard after trying a few more times to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, but she did abuse it more than she cares to admit. A nice new hat for her grandfather, a slice of honey cake from her favorite bakery when she couldn't make the trip, a very specific looking collar for her cat — small things, but enough for Nadia to know that she had it made.

As she grew older (and, as her grandfather grew older), Nadia learned to use her abilities for... not necessarily good, but for good intentions. All she had to do was imagine a high price item and it would be hers with just a pluck. Her building was full of people willing to help her sell her new goods, no questions asked. And her grandfather, thinking the world of her, rarely questioned here Nadia came up with money to help support them. No one was getting hurt. That’s what she told herself... until her grandfather unexpectedly came home while Nadia was hands deep in another dimension. She’d not told him about her powers, so to be discovered caused her to panic. What followed was her waking up on her bedroom floor, looking up at her grandfather and the living breathing person she’d dragged through the mirror, now stranded.

Everything after that seemed to crumble. Her grandfather refused to accept anything she gave him without proof of where it had come from, so she couldn’t help provide for the household like she once her. Her feelings for her flake of a mother became twisted, resulting in endless screaming matches on the rare occasion they were in the same room. Her new roommate/foster sibling/dimension buddy was... a complicated matter, we’ll leave it at that. It wasn’t until the fall of the USSR in 1991 that there was a shift, and their little cohort immigrated to the States a few years later.

What they don’t tell you about being a little girl with an active imagination is what you grow into an adult with much the same. And when simply imagining something is enough to create a new dimension for your picking, it’s hard to resist temptation. Nadia’s grandfather passed away in the last decade, and although it broke her heart, she has since started to slip back into old habits. Moving to Polaris Village was a business move, really, even if most of her time should be focused on school. The people at Polaris rarely care where you get something from, so long as they can get it.

Nadia is something of a walking black market nowadays — if you need something hard to find, just give her a description and she’ll pluck it from another world. And in return, she gets paid. She had her limits, of course — nothing fang will cause another person harm, no illicit materials, and nothing living (not again). Her grandfather would be disappointed, she knows this. But, as always, Nadia justifies. The more practice she gets, the closer she can get to dimension hopping. And that means she’s one step closer to sending her person back home. So in the long run, she’s doing a good thing. Pocketing the money is just an added bonus.

INCLINATION

As one of the oldest known stars in the universe, Cayrel’s Star knows that there are endless other universes to be seen. The witch or wizard is capable of accessing alternative realities via mirrors, and in a manner of speaking, can control which multiverse they’re peering into. The witch or wizard looks into a mirror while craving an apple fritter? Their reflection becomes the alternate universe version of themselves that just so happens to be eating an apply fritter at that exact moment. Then, it’s simply a matter of reaching through the mirror and bringing the object from Universe B into Universe A. Some sponsees have even been able to move through dimensions, though this is highly prohibited. The bigger an object, the more energy is needed to bring it into this world.

CONNECTIONS

Half-Sibling: Nadia’s mother was largely absent from her life, so she really knows nothing about the woman who gave birth to her. One thing she is clueless about is that her mother had another child (either older or younger, I’m not fussed!) that she gave up and let be raised either as an orphan or to be adopted out. Whether they somehow know about Nadia is entirely up to you, but they would at least know their birth mother’s name. Do they want to know more? Does it not matter to them? Will they and Nadia ever meet? YOU TELL ME.

Mirror Mirror: The tricky thing about interdimensional exchanges is that you have to be very careful about what you grab. Nadia learned this lesson when she accidentally dragged someone rather than something into this universe. Having no idea how to either reimagine their universe or to return them, the only solution was for them to stay with her. They can have become close friends or maybe they deeply resent Nadia for displacing them. Maybe they’re close friends while also resent her. Who knows!! (Since this person is from a completely different dimension, there’s a lot of leeway in their magic. They may even be an alternate dimension version or the alternative sponsee for another character, but make sure to get permission first)

Frequent Buyer: Someone (or multiple someones) who enjoy hard-to-find items, otherwise known as Nadia’s specialty. They pay her on time and have established a good enough rapport that, who knows, maybe she’ll soon be willing to break some of her own rules regarding what she brings back.

Penned by Jeanne ★

[ellnaturae]

What. [PART 2]

Who: Elliott Gilbert and Ziggy.  Location: Sciron Square, Elliott’s room. Time: 27 june 2019. Not so early in the morning anymore. Summary: Elliott chooses. Triggers/Notes: Charc gave me permission, you will understand. CW for snakes.

After cleaning the Ceremonial Room, Elliott teleports back to his room at Sciron. Ziggy hangs around on his shoulders. He touches nervously a ring on his hand like an anxious gesture, though he realizes he could be touching one of the treasures.

It is silver and it laces around his finger in the shape of a snake, this was a present Marley gave him long ago, it held a lot of meaning back then, when they would affectionally call each other sister and brother, and he never stopped using it. Probably it was one of the rings he wore almost every day, it didn’t really matter how he felt about Marley, even in the moments when he thought he would give up on her, or be particularly more sad or disappointed, maybe subconsciously a part of him always had her in mind. Always with him. 

Ziggy hisses in agreement knowing his thoughts. 

A couple more things had come to mind. He goes directly to the wooden trunk where he has his clothes and starts looking around. The object for Kurt had to be there, the leopard print short sleeve shirt he got from the auction at the fashion show. That moment he thought shaped many things in their relationship, whatever exactly that was or how to call it he wasn’t sure, but he knew, that fashion show, and the interactions they had after it, they changed something. It made him realize things, not only about Kurt, but about himself, and it changed how they looked at each other. Obviously, not just one thing would do that, but if he had to pick, he felt like an object that connected both of them more strongly than others, it would be something coming out of that show. 

He puts the shirt over his bed and also takes the ring out leaving it over the fabric. He then takes a breath, he knows what object is for Santana definitely, its already on his bag, it always is, but he doesn’t want to pick it just yet. So he leaves the bag over the bed for a second and goes to his table. There it is, the object for Brittany, it may not hold a lot of meaning, but as someone he just recently meant, it was a symbol of a new connection, he picks up a crayon from his table, one she gave him in exchange of one of his own, cyber space orange. He takes it and simply leaves it over the bed with the other things. He hoped it would be good enough.

For Quinn, he felt a little lost, did she ever give him anything with meaning or even... anything at all? A vague memory comes to him, maybe she actually did. He starts taking things out of his bag, books, notebooks, it has to be somewhere, he opens them and shakes them, until a paper falls. There it was, a small note, with specific calligraphy that couldn’t be from another person, titles of books he revisited and studied at the beginning of his search for more information on demonic culture, and how demons were represented in religious texts. And he still had it, at times using it as a marker on a book he was reading, or pointing to an important spot in a notebook that he needed to revisit again. It was just a paper, he wanted to think, but maybe it was also the prove of Quinn being nice or helpful to him for once. He took the paper and leave it next to the crayon.

Santana’s object was now over the bed too, though he didn’t want to admit it, he was putting back on his bag all the things that weren’t useful when Ziggy stops him.

“That book should be over the bed” she insists knowing the last thing on his hand is very important to him.

It wasn’t like he would not give it away, but it was taking him longer to process he would, and it may be stupid because he could always buy another copy, and no object was ever more important than any of his friends' lives, but it felt odd. The book on his hand was given to him by Santana three years ago, on the first Christmas holidays they shared as friends, and he wasn’t sentimental about that holiday, but he felt nostalgic about the people they were and the people they grew to be now. Santana has become one of his closest friends, and incredible unexpected support in his lowest times. Back then, she for the first time was giving him a gift, a book, that not only was hilarious and touching, but a book that inadvertently would become one of his favorites and that he would read and read for over three years in moments when, for his nature, he couldn’t fill his time with pause and rest, and his thoughts would overwhelm him when he found himself alone in the night. It was now a little worn off, slightly bend in the middle as if was a soft copy. Good Omens, he smirks when he reads the title, and then leaves it over the bed with the rest of them.

“Well, that’s it,” He says putting all the things in a smaller bag (to keep them all together) that then he would put in his own. 

Ziggy looks at him “That’s it?”

“I mean... I don’t really have anything from that guy” he shrugs.

“Elliott...”

“Can God just make him appear here or something?”

“Elliott...”

“Alright, fuck” he rolls his eyes grabbing the bag as Ziggy wraps herself around it, and gets out to the corridor “I guess I can find what’s his room and we can get something from there” he shrugs, though he isn’t sure if that would hold any value at all.

He doesn’t know where Joe room is, but after some quick teleporting here and there checking different floors, he gets to the third floor and finds the right one. 

“Joe Hart?” he raises an eyebrow, he vaguely remembers his full name when he reads it on the mailbox “Alright, then...” he sighs “Zigs, you enter under the door, check around.”

The snake drops slowly to the floor and then looks up at Elliott shaking her head in disapproval. She gets closer to the small gap between the door and the floor and slowly sneaks under it, once she is on the other side, the connection between hers and Elliott’s vision activates.

“Shit...” Elliott loses his balance a little feeling dizzy when he notices the change of vision and holding himself against a wall, he will never get used to it “Okay so... erm...” 

Ziggy slowly crawls around the room, it is very empty. There is an old computer, a prayer rug, bags with clothes, and really not much. Elliott observes through her eyes, the prayer rug catches his attention the most, but he then looks away. Ziggy moves to the bag, maybe something else important would be there, but there is also not much, just clothes, normal clothes, just more and more clothes, and then, pictures. 

When Elliott sees that he feels weird, it is as if suddenly he realizes he was actually breaking into someone’s room and invading their privacy. 

“Just... just take a sock, and let’s go,” he says uncomfortable unable to unsee the faces of those strangers that meant something to Joe.

The vision connection stops, and a few minutes later Ziggy crawls under the door with a black sock on her tail. Elliott grabs her and takes the sock from her putting it in the objects bag. 

They share a long silence and a look.

“I’ll buy him a new pair of socks later” he says annoyed and starts walking fast to get out of there.

TO BE CONTINUED...

----

CW: SNAKE PROVE THAT SNAKES CAN DO THAT, I’M STILL IN SHOCK LMAO

[fledgeling-heroes-r-us]

The Prince and The Princess

Shadow Weaver had felt her presence from the moment she'd followed them through the rift, piggybacking a lift to an unfamiliar world for god only knew what reason. He'd not mentioned anything to the team, of course. He'd wanted to see what this life form was, and what it would do. He did not believe it was dangerous. He did not believe it would cause harm. He believed it would leave the tower and go try and explore the world at large, and if it did that, yes he would try to intervene, if only because he remembered how scary it had been without a guide in this strange place. As far as he could tell, however, their stowaway hadn't just left. She had concealed herself within the darkness and went into hiding around the building, somehow avoiding contact with the others despite not having Weaver's keen senses. Still, he kept silent, presuming the creature that came back with them was frightened, not trusting of them yet, afraid to approach them. He stayed silent as she hid herself away, and never offered any explanation for mysteriously moved objects or the food that disappeared from the fridge (usually a meat product of some variety, he noted) or anything else that might go missing, usually clothes belonging to one of the girls, though Zhen's clothes had disappeared once or twice. Weaver supposed it was because he was small, so his clothes might fit the girl better than Whisper's or Shard's. He wasn't sure, he didn't exactly know any of their measurements. He didn't really know his own measurements either. It was night when he finally confronted the girl, and even then, it wasn't on purpose. He'd had another restless night, and eventually decided to give up on sleep and wander down to the living room, where he caught the girl sprawled out on the sofa, looking through a magazine. The girl, he vaguely remembered, had been the nurse treating Hex back in Death Valley when he'd been stupid enough to play with ataxi flowers and other extremely toxic things. The girl, indeed wearing a mismatched selection of 'borrowed' clothes, was too enraptured in her read to notice him, so he was able to get quite close before clearing his throat. The girl gasped and swung round to face him, the strange, insect-like appendages on her back coming forward like a form of protection or a threat. She wasn't fully shadow meister then, because no-one else had those nasty, hairy, hook-ended legs growing from the base of their spine. Tarquin blinked at her response and held out his hands to show he meant no harm. "You know, miss, you don't have to hide like that." The girl glared at him. "Like what?" She asked after a moment. "Keeping to the shadows, stealing, sleeping in the laundry hamper..." Slowly, she stood and looked him over curiously. "I...am fine with this arrangement." "Why?" "Stealth is an important skill very much worth honing." Well, he couldn't argue with that. "Why did you come here?" "...Curiosity." He gestured for her to continue, and she looked away huffily. "I wanted to know what about this world was so alluring that the heirs to the throne would willingly leave everything they had to come here. So far, I have not seen it." "You have not explored anything. You have been cooped up in this tower, reading pornographic magazines." With a frown, Tarquin reached forward to pull the magazine from her grip. She moved to hold it away from him, and he manipulated his shadows to grab it instead. "You...should not be looking at this. This...is...where did you get this?" It was definitely a dirty magazine. Glossy and full of naked women in risque positions. "It was hidden under a bed." "...Don't dig under peoples' beds." He assumed the thing belonged to Hex. Lovely. "Why are you reading it?" "I wish to learn about human biology. I am a healer by nature. I need to understand how a human's body is built if I ever wish to help the injured in this world." "This is not a biology book." "But it shows me physical differences between my body and the body of a human female." "...I can get you an actual biology book if you would like." "I cannot read it." Tarquin heaved a sigh and dropped the magazine on the floor, pushing it under the sofa with his foot. God forbid someone innocent like Crayon should ever see that. "Who are you?" "The head nurse of the palace. And who are you to demand answers of me?" He held up his hand, showing the ring on his middle finger. "Tarquin Soul, soon to be crowned king of the valley." The girl raised an eyebrow. "You are the absconded prince? A shame. I thought you would be more impressive." "Life in this world has not been good for my health." "Obviously." She stretched out with a sigh. "You honour your human name." "It is a nice name." "It seems strange. I never heard anyone other than Father's first wife refer to you by human names." Tarquin didn't feel surprised by that. He glanced down at the ring on the girl's finger, similar to the ones on his own. "We were supposed to come back for you..." "Excuse me?" "...Nothing. Life in the valley-" "Would be unbearable for a feldarhl. For me, I saw nothing wrong with it, but I can understand why someone like you would want to leave." She looked around again. "But, as you have returned, as you have promised to take the throne now Father is dead, I have no reason to remain. I am no longer the heir, and the people of our home are no longer dying of plague. I wish to broaden my horizons. Find a new level of strength. Meet other creatures and make friends. I did not have friends back in the valley." That made sense. Tarquin remembered he never was allowed to interact with other children. He wasn't really supposed to interact with his brother, either. "You should speak to people, princess, not hide from them." "I did not trust you not to harm me." "I am your brother." "I have never interacted with you before. A blood bond is not a promise to keep me from harm." Tarquin thought about Hex and Astral. About the damage to Hex's eye after his elder sister had kidnapped him. About times his own brother had caused him pain. About stories he had heard from other heroes. It was true. A blood bond was not a promise to do no harm. "The others have noticed your presence, though...you cannot hide forever. Are you afraid of my friends?" "I do not know what they are like or what they are capable of." "Then I can promise to protect you from harm." The girl regarded him strangely. "You are very feeling for someone from the valley." "I know. I've been told." He offered his hand out to her with a smile. "You can still work on your stealth, but allowing yourself to socialise will help you further your other goals, won't it?" "It will." She agreed with a nod. "So I do not see the harm in it." Being used to the more feeling type, his little sister seemed strange to him. There was a seven year age gap between them, which made her closer to Crayon's age than his own. The comparison of their behaviour was a strange one. He decided he would have to regulate what reading materials his little sister had access to from now on.

[parsippanylibrarykids]

By: Miss Jen, Miss Katy, & Miss Melissa

Picture Books 

Barnett, Mac. The Wolf, the Duck, and the Mouse. ​(Grades K-2)  This clever picture book begins with a mouse that is quickly gobbled up by a wolf. Fortunately his new accomodations AKA the wolf’s stomach include a duck with kitchenware and jam. The duck states “I may have been swallowed but I have no intention of being eaten.” Award winning illustrator Jon Klassen’s artwork add to the charm of this folkloric tale. 

Colleen, Marcie. Love, Triangle.​ ​ (Grades K-2) Square and Circle have been best friends since they were first created. Triangle arrives on the scene and brings new ideas. Both Square and Circle want to be friends with Triangle which causes a split between the two buddies. This common friendship problem is resolved at the end of this geometric story.

 Daywalt, Drew. The Legend of Rock, Paper, Scissors. ​(Grades K-3) The origins of the classic schoolyard game are explained in hilarious detail. Will Rock, Paper, or Scissors be victorious? Rock is searching for a worthy opponent. Paper leaves the Empire of Mom’s Home Office after conquering the Computer Printer while Scissors defeats Dinosaur-Shaped Chicken Nuggets. Wacky inanimate objects come to life under the expertise of illustrator Adam Rex. Fans of Daywalt’s The Day the Crayons Quit will be equally as charmed by this book. 

Denos, Julia. Windows. ​(PreS-1) In this story, a boy of color dons a read hoodie, leashes his dog and ventures out into the twilight, where the windows are “blinking awake as the lights turn on a neighborhood of paper lanterns”. The reader gets to peer in at the small figures dancing, making dinner or throwing a party and watch as the color of the sky changes. The compositions are rendered in ink, watercolor, letterpress and digital collage. The narrative ends with a story shared and a snuggle. Readers will want to revisit this story over and over. Everyday routine turned to wonder on an evening walk filled with discovery. 

Dykman, Ame. Read the Book, Lemmings!​ (PreS-2) Another delightful collaboration by the team behind Wolfie the Bunny and Horrible Bear! Lemmings don’t jump off cliffs. It says so in the book that Foxy is reading. However, the three lemmings on the boat have not read the book and keep jumping into the water. After trying unsuccessfully to get the lemmings to read the book, Foxy realizes he is going to have to actually teach the lemmings to read before he can stop them. A funny read aloud! Children will love this book at storytime and at home. 

Jory, John and Benji Davies. Come Home Already!​ (PreS-3) The third hysterical picture book about Duck and Bear, unlikely pals. In this book, an excited Duck wants to hang out with Bear but Bear has left to go fishing for a whole week on his own. Bear is relieved to have some time alone. What will Duck do while Bear is gone? How will he survive without his best friend? 

Lamothe, Matt. ​This is How We Do It: One Day in the Lives of Seven Kids from Around the World. ​(Grades K-3) Seven children from Italy, Japan, Uganda, Russia, India, Iran, and Peru describe one day in their lives as they eat, play, and learn. An author’s note, a glossary, a map, and photographs of the families are included at the end of the book. This is an informational picture book that could be used in a social studies unit. 

Shannon, David. Bizzy Mizz Lizzie​. (Grades 1-3)  Lizzie is the busiest, buzziest bee in Hivetown. She longs to impress the Queen by winning a spelling bee contest, but she studies to the point of exhaustion on top of trying to juggle all of her other activities. When she dozes off in the middle of the competition, the only solution is rest. Lizzie finally learns to stop and smell the flowers. A book with a good message and wonderful illustrations will appeal to young readers. 

Tsurumi, Andrea. Accident! ​(PreS-2) When a little armadillo named Lola knocks a jug of red juice all over her family’s white sofa, she flees to the library to hide. But as Lola run through town, she is joined by many others who have also made a mess and want to hide at the library too, avoiding conflict. Fun and colorful illustrations are found throughout the book and children will be drawn to the intricate details. This book teaches that a mistake can happen due to thoughtlessness, carelessness or bad luck and that it is ok to call it an accident but also necessary to “make it better” and “own up to it.” 

Easy Readers 

LaReau, Kara. The Infamous Ratsos are Not Afraid. ​(Grades 1-2) Brothers Louie and Ralphie Ratso plan to clear out an abandoned lot in their neighborhood and create an arcade. The problem is that the house next to the vacant lot might be haunted. ​This is the second book in the series that began with the Geisel Honor Book, The Infamous Ratsos. 

Shea, Bob. Ballet Cat: What’s Your Favorite Favorite? ​(Grades 1-3) Ballet Cat and her cousin Goat are preparing a show for grandma and both want to prove that they are the best. Ballet Cat will come up with a fancy dance routine and Goat will perform tricks at his magic show. Which one will be her FAVORITE favorite? Terrifically fun third entry in this series. 

Snyder, Laurel. Charlie & Mouse & Grumpy. ​ (Grades K-1) This picture book/easy reader hybrid is the sequel to Charlie and Mouse. Charlie and Mouse are brothers who are spending time with their grandfather AKA Grumpy. In four short chapters, the trio discuss what it means to be “medium”, enjoy a special night while the boys’ parents go out, and choose the proper goodnight song. 

Yoon, Salina. That’s My Book! and Other Stories. ​(Grades K-1) Big Duck, Little Duck, and Porcupine are a sweet trio of friends that find the best use for books, plan a talent show, and dress like a pirate. The latest addition to the Duck, Duck, Porcupine series contains three short chapters with bold text in large speech bubbles. 

Juvenile Fiction 

Bartok, Mira. The Wonderling. ​(Grades 4-6) Number 13 is a groundling (half human/half animal) who lives in an orphanage run by Ms. Carbunkle. He is named Arthur by a fellow groundling when he saves her. The pair of new friends escape the “Home” and set off on an adventure full of danger, magic, and mystery. Fans of Erin Hunter’s Warriors series will enjoy this lengthy fantasy novel. 

Bradley, Kimberly Brubaker. The War I Finally Won. ​(Grades 4-6)  Picking up right after 2015’s Newbery Honor book The War That Saved My Life, this very worthy sequel continues the story of Ada, her brother Jamie, and their guardian Susan. Set against the backdrop of World War II (which is felt much more immediately in this novel), Ada struggles to deal with the aftermath of years of abuse by her mother. An emotional, yet rewarding book for fans of the first book or for readers who love excellent historical fiction. 

Broach, Elise. Trouble at School for Marvin & James. ​(Grades 1-2) This is the third book in the Masterpiece Adventures series featuring best friends, James and Marvin. James is a human and Marvin is a small black beetle. James decides to bring Marvin to school so he can experience James’ art class taught by beloved teacher, Mr. Chang. Mr. Change has blue hair and often quotes, “There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.” Marvin enjoys school until a sneeze separates him from James. This book is an excellent choice for new chapter-book readers. 

Clements, Andrew. The Losers Club.​ (Grades 3-6) Alec loves to read -- so much so that it gets him in trouble at school and at home. Even the head of the afterschool program at his school says he can’t just sit around by himself and read; he has to join a club. So Alec comes up with a plan to create his own reading club, which he names The Losers Club to deter other kids from joining. His bright idea backfires when it turns out to be the most popular club at school. There are tons of great books referenced throughout, and there’s a helpful list at the back of the book for bookworms who want to read them all! 

DeStefano, Lauren. The Girl with the Ghost Machine.​ (Grades 4-6) Emmaline Beaumont was 10 years old when her mother died; two years later, her father remains so consumed with grief that it’s almost as if Emmaline has lost both parents. In a desperate attempt to bring his wife back, Monsieur Beaumont tinkers with his “ghost machine” night and day. When Emmaline’s attempt to destroy the machine doesn’t go as planned, she and readers are left wondering if precious memories of loved ones are worth trading for the chance to interact with them one more time. Emmaline’s twin best friends, Oliver and Gully, represent the push and pull between hope and logic that plagues Emmaline and offers her new ways of understanding grief. Readers should be prepared for heaviness and sadness throughout. A story of loss, friendship, and resilience. 

Farrer, Maria. Me and Mister P.​ (Grades 2-5) Arthur is tired of his younger brother Liam’s behavior. He can’t even watch television with volume since it upsets his brother. Arthur decides to run away from home but he meets a friendly polar bear named Mister P. who alters his plans. Mister P. helps Arthur accept his brother’s differences. This quirky story is bibliotherapy for siblings of children with autism as well as a good read for children who like fantastical animal stories. 

Krishnaswami, Uma. Step Up to the Plate, Maria Singh. ​(Grades 3-5) Maria Singh lives with her family in Yuba City, California during WWII. Most of the community members are adha-adha (half and half) with fathers from India and mothers from Mexico. Maria’s teacher forms a softball team which Maria wants to join but she is not sure if her father will let her. Maria and her family struggle against discrimination from kids and adults. 

Middleton, Dana. Open If You Dare. ​(Grades 4-6) For Birdie and her best friends, Ally and Rose, the joy of finishing elementary school is overshadowed by their dread of summer’s end. With Rose unwillingly moving back to England, and Ally and Birdie attending different middle schools, their long, close friendship is coming to an end. In the meantime, Ally deals with problems on and off the pitcher’s mound, while Birdie follows the trail of mystery, and Rose rebels against her parents in a creative, yet destructive way. The story is set in Atlanta with well-drawn individuals from different generations. Tween issues are addressed from first crush to first steps toward independence. A rewarding chapter book. 

Morris, Chad. Mustaches for Maddie.​ (Grades 4-6) Maddie is a 12 year old girl who has a big imagination. When she is diagnosed with a brain tumor, she faces surgery and possible negative outcomes from the operation. She also faces middle school friendships and even jealous classmates with humor and bravery. Maddies loves fake mustaches so her supporters wear them. This book is based on the authors’ daughter and will appeal to readers who liked Wonder by R.J. Palacio. 

Pennypacker, Sara. Waylon! Even More Awesome​. (Grades 2-4) A Clementine series spin off which features another likeable kid. Waylon and Baxter are classmates who have to share a dog who lives in a shelter. The two boys can not be more different. While Waylon loves everything about science and following rules, Baxter is always in trouble and close to being a juvenile delinquent. When their dog, Dumpster Eddy, is going to be thrown out of the shelter he is living in, the boys come up with a plan to save him. A book about friendship, family, perseverance and hard work make this a wonderful book for reluctant readers. 

Schlitz, Laura. Princess Cora and the Crocodile. ​(Grades 1-3) Princess Cora never has a moment to play or relax as her parents, the King and Queen, are constantly training her to be perfect. She writes a desperate letter to her fairy godmother asking for help. A pet crocodile arrives the next day and he impersonates Cora so she can have a day off. Caldecott Medalist Brian Floca’s illustrations add to the humor of this story. 

Swanson, Matthew. ​The Real McCoys. ​(Grades 3-5) Moxie McCoy is a fourth grade detective who faces her biggest challenge yet in this fun chapter book. When someone kidnaps beloved school mascot Eddie the Owl, Moxie is on the case-but she is forced to solve this new mystery on her own since her best friend, and fellow detective, has moved away. Moxie finds clues and points fingers but she needs help to find the owl mascot. Enter Milton, Moxie’s smart little brother. Can the real McCoys solve the crime of the century? 

Wilson, Amy. ​The Lost Frost Girl​. (Grades 4-6) A modern day fairy tale about a girl who discovers that she is Jack Frost’s daughter. Owl is a twelve year old girl with a quirky mom, a dad she has never met, a cool best friend named Mallory and a boy who gives her weird looks at school. When she finds out that Jack Frost is her father, she is determined to meet him and delves into Jack’s wonderful and wild world of winter. She realizes she is part human/part fay and has special powers of her own. A tale of family, friendship and magic and embracing who you are meant to be. 

Zemke, Deborah. The Curse of Einstein’s Pencil. ​(Grades 2-3) This second story about Bea Garcia will appeal to fans of Judy Moody. Bea is initially excited when the smartest girl in school, Judith Einstein asks her to be a partner in the geography contest. Then Bea wonders if the secret to Judith’s intelligence is her pencil. Bea takes Judith’s pencil when it rolls on the floor but the effect on her life and friendship is not what she expected. 

Graphic Novels 

Hale, Shannon and Pham, LeUyen. Real Friends​.​ (Grades 3-6) Shannon Hale, author of the bestselling Princess in Black series, debuts her first graphic novel: a memoir of her childhood friendships from kindergarten through sixth grade. Friends, rivals, and frenemies drift in and out of Shannon’s life, but her mean older sister remains a constant menacing presence. Readers will find much to relate to: neighborhood friends who move away; the dread of finding out that all of your friends have been assigned to another teacher. Hale as an adult narrates the story with a welcome perspective, acknowledging when she herself was a bad friend or seeing the dynamics of a situation more clearly in hindsight. Fans of Raina Telgemeier will love this. 

Jamieson, Victoria. All’s Faire in Middle School​.​ (Grades 4-8) From Victoria Jamieson, who won a Newbery Honor for Roller Girl, comes another middle grade graphic novel. Imogen has been homeschooled her whole life; her world revolves around the local Renaissance Faire where her parents work. But now she’s ready for her biggest challenge: middle school. Imogen’s unconventional background makes it difficult for her to fit in, but is she willing to do what it takes to conform? Recommend to fans of Raina Telgemeier. 

Siegel, Mark. The Sand Warrior. ​ (Grades 3-5) The Five Worlds is a galaxy of five planets filled with different species. Oona Lee teams up with An Tzu, a boy from the poorest slums, and Jax Amboy, a lonely star athlete. They discover that they may be able to light five ancient beacons and save the Five Worlds. Hand this fantasy story to fans of Avatar: The Last Airbender and the Amulet series. 

Biography 

Guglielmo, Amy and Tourville, Jacqueline. Pocket Full of Colors.​ ​(Grades K-4). Mary Blair is remembered today as one of the greatest and most influential Disney animators, but at the time, her use of color was considered “too vivid, too wild.” When her all-male colleagues at Disney reject her ideas, she strikes out on her own, where she finds huge success as an illustrator and set designer following her own vision. Finally, Walt Disney himself asks her to come back; she’s the only one he will trust to design the now-classic ride It’s a Small World. Gorgeous brightly-colored illustrations evoke Blair’s distinctive style. An author’s note is included at the end of the book. 

Meltzer, Brad. I am Sacagawea. ​(Grades 1-3) Sacagawea’s story is the latest addition to the Ordinary People Change the World​ best-selling biography series. Sacagawea was the only Native American to join Lewis and Clark’s expedition. Children will learn about the traits that made Sacagawea a trailblazer and the significant contributions she made to the world. A timeline and photos are included at the back of the book. Christopher Eliopoulos’ illustrations reflect his origins in the comic industry. He recreates lively scenes from Sacagawea’s life. 

Rosenstock, Barb. Vincent Can’t Sleep. ​(Grades K-2) This picture book biography of Vincent Van Gogh explores his life especially his troubles with insomnia. He had trouble sleeping as a child, an adolescent, and as an adult in the hospital. The text is short but lyrical while the illustrations in acrylic, pen, and watercolor reflect the night sky and his iconic work, The Starry Night. An author’s note and sources are included at the end of the book. 

Nonfiction 

Burcaw, Shane. Not So Different. ​(Grades 1-3). Shane was born with a degenerative muscle disease, and he’s never been able to walk. People always seem to ask him the same ten questions, like “How do you eat?” or “Why is your head so big?” Answers to these and more are accompanied by funny photographs. Through Shane’s funny and frank stories--he once broke his expensive motorized wheelchair by using it to lift his brother to dunk a basketball--readers will learn that they’re not so different from him after all. A nice introduction to disability for younger kids. 

Burns, Loree Griffin. Life on Surtsey: Iceland’s Upstart Island​. ​(Grades 4-7) In 1963, an underwater volcano off the coast of Iceland erupted, creating a new island formed from rock and ash. Scientists realized they could use this new island to study how life takes hold in a new environment. What are the first plants to grow on the bare rock? When and how do birds, insects, and other animals arrive? The book follows a team of scientists who return to the island every year to study the changes; full-color photographs document their journey and the changing island landscape. It’s a great introduction to how scientists really work, full of details that kids will love. (On a deserted island, how do you go to the bathroom?) A glossary and bibliography are included at the end of the book. 

Chin, Jason. Grand Canyon.​ (Grades 3-5) Some may think of the Grand Canyon as just a “big hole in the ground,” but through gorgeous and detailed illustrations, Chin reveals the complex ecosystem it hosts and what it tells us about our geological past. As a father and daughter hike through the canyon, the reader learns more about what makes each level of the canyon unique. Die-cuts reveal fossils in the modern-day, and when readers turn the page, they are transported back millions of years, to what the landscape looked like when each fossil was formed. Further scientific information, an author’s note, and sources are included at the end of the book. 

Eggers, Dave. ​Her Right Foot. ​(Grades 3 and up) A beautifully illustrated book about the history of the iconic statue along with humor and interesting trivia during the first part of the book. The second part of the book talks about the statue’s feet and how the back of her right foot is actually lifted as if she is going somewhere. No one ever seems to talk about the fact that the statue of liberty is walking; she is on the move. If the statue of liberty is a symbol of freedom, if the statue of liberty has welcomed millions of immigrants to the United States, then how can she stand still? 

Harris, Chris. I’m Just No Good At Rhyming.​ (Grades 3-8) Fans of Shel Silverstein, Ogden Nash, or Jack Prelutsky will enjoy this volume of humorous poetry for kids. Lane Smith’s hilarious illustrations add to the fun.

Rose, Deborah Lee. Beauty and the Beak. ​(Grades 3-5) An Alaskan bald eagle lost most of her beak after a poacher shot her. She was unable to eat, drink, or preen without her beak. The eagle later named Beauty was sent to the care of biologist Veltkamp at a raptor center in Idaho. Since Beauty’s beak did not regenerate, Veltkamp enlisted the help of a dentist and an engineer. Together they fashioned a beak for Beauty using a 3-D printer. This nonfiction animal rescue story has similaries to stories by the Hatkoffs including Winter’s Tail. 

Roy, Katherine. How To Be An Elephant. ​(Grades 3-6) A stunning look at how a newborn elephant matures into a capable member of the herd. This book emphasizes how an infant elephant learns through her family herd an array of skills that are necessary to keep up; from learning to walk and swim right away, projecting her voice, using her nose to eat and smell and keeping cool with her large ears. Large illustrations of calves with their herd are interspersed with captivating diagrams and smaller images work well together. A carefully researched book and a must have for all elementary school collections.  

[strongbeautifulfulloflight]

Better Late Than Never

This one is for my beautiful adoptive “little brother” and Henrik stan, @megansarah11 who gifted me this prompt during a bout of writer’s block:

Prompt: Caroline is Henrik’s Daycare teacher and Klaus is his guardian. She falls in love with Henrik before falling in love with Klaus. Henrik is shy at first so she eases into comfort by reading to him…

So here are the things you need to know: 

- This is an AH – All Human – drabble. - It’s going to be in a couple of parts because inspiration kind of went rampant. - For the sake of the prompt, Henrik is aged down, but the rest of the OGs will stay their respective ages. Which, technically, isn’t too farfetched considering Rebekah and Kol are biologically 17 and 18. So yeah! Happy reading! _______________________________________________________________________ PART ONE:

Tap, tap, tap went Caroline’s foot. It was 3:09 p.m., rendering her beyond impatient. And with just cause. It had been a long day, filled with ABCs, 123s, spills, stains, and ultimately, really sore feet. She should have learned by now that pumps were an inappropriate choice for Kindergarten, but she’d be damned if she gave up her dignity for a bunch of five-year-olds. The last few straggling parents convened in their usual circle by the playground their children had scampered toward the second the bell rang at 2:50 p.m. They were the elite – the in-crowd socialites of the parenting world who had nothing but time to stand around gossiping about their mommy blogging, their latest trendy diets, dating scandals in the community, or the secretive newcomers to Mystic Falls – the Mikaelsons. The construction on their mansion had taken a few short months and had the town abuzz with speculation. Who were they? What did they do? How much money did they have and why take up residency in their small town? They were seen in glimpses but never all together. The youngest was a five year old and the eldest was in his thirties. There were a handful of them, at least one teen aged female, and one male who didn’t resemble the others but there was no certainty as to whom was family and who was not. When there didn’t appear to be a mother figure, the rumors started. They were gays who liked to adopt; they were orphans; they were gypsies; they had been abducted by aliens! The less they saw of the Mikaelsons, the more the town talked. Caroline ignored it all. She was one of the first to meet the head of the household, eldest brother Finn. He had been looking to enroll his youngest brother and wanted to personally meet the woman he would be entrusting him to on a daily basis. She gave him her usual spiel about the curriculum and the daily class schedule, let him tour the classroom and answered all questions expertly. Her own questions burned something fierce. He offered minimal information. He and two of his brothers shared legal guardianship over the rest. There were six of them, total. Their parents were never mentioned and she desperately wanted to know the backstory but her instincts told her to keep her mouth shut, for once. That was the only time she saw Finn. Henrik joined her class the following week. She’d managed to connect with most of her students on some level, but little Henrik had been a mystery. He wasn’t as vocal or as boisterous as the others and didn’t interact with many of his classmates. At first, she assumed he just needed an adjustment period and gave him the benefit of the doubt, but as time went on, she learned his timid nature was who he was. It wasn’t a lack of interest as he excelled in all academic areas. It was socialization that he shied away from. Play time was often spent in the miniature library where he would study the characters of Dr. Seuss, trace the lines that Harold’s purple crayon drew, and watch the mouse cause chaos every time you gave it a cookie. In fact, story time was when she saw him the most animated. Since he couldn’t read, he loved to listen. His eyes lit up and he sat just a little straighter, leaning a little forward, eager to hear the story behind his favorite images unfold. Yes, the nervous little boy who was currently standing beside her bowing his head and kicking at the pavement beneath his feet was an anomaly. As far as five-year-olds went. “It’s not like your brother to be this late,” she mused aloud. Henrik nodded, sparing only a tiny glance out of the corner of his eye before blood rushed to his face again in an embarrassed blush. Caroline sighed, looking down at her watch again – 3:14. “Tell you what. Why don’t we go wait for him inside? It has to be more fun than this, right?”

He shrugged and nodded, letting out a little huff of disappointment before he turned, ready to follow her. She smiled and held out her hand and he looked at it with wide eyes, as if she’d just insulted him gravely. It made her wonder if a lack of affection at home was a reason why he was so reserved. She let her hand lower to the back of his shoulder instead, and he half-flinched when she did, seemingly in surprise rather than pain, but he made no objection and so she led him back into the school.

She’d seated him at his table with a coloring book and basket of crayons and he seemed placated enough that she could sit at her own desk while she waited. It was unusual for his brother to run this far behind. Elijah had always been impeccably punctual, early even, greeting her with a pleasant smile that almost matched Henrik’s before the boy would clasp his hand and they would retreat to their own lives, just like the rest. When they first met, she was shocked to learn he wasn’t Henrik’s father, but rather another one of his brothers. Despite the age difference, the resemblance was uncanny. Brown hair, brown eyes, same angular jaw structure, and matching noses. Never had she seen siblings so alike. It was…unnerving. And adorable. 

She glanced at him again and he was frowning at the crayon in his hand. “What’s wrong, Henrik?” He looked over like he’d forgotten she was there. “I went outside the lines,” he mumbled, his face filled with shame. Her brows twitched and she smiled empathetically. “That’s okay, sweetie. It doesn’t have to be perfect.” He looked down at his picture with a tiny, scrunched up frown. “Kol’s gonna laugh at me.” “Is that one of your brothers?” He nodded. She smiled slyly as she plucked one of her books from the aligned collection on the corner of her desk and got up, smoothing her skirt as she walked over to sit with him. “You know, some of the most famous artists don’t stay in the lines. They don’t even use the right colors. They make the sky green and the grass blue.” “They do?” “Mmhmm.” To emphasize her point, she opened up the art book she’d picked out, flipping pages. “And some of them don’t even paint faces the right way.” She turned the book so he could see, showing him a distorted portrait. “See?” He turned his head sideways, face screwing up in confusion. “This lady has a nose for a chin.” He smiled, a tiny giggle miraculously stuttering out. He quickly covered his mouth to stifle it. Caroline beamed. “Do you know who made this?” He shook his head. “An artist named Pablo Picasso.” “Oh I know him!” Her brows raised, pleasantly surprised. “You do?” He nodded emphatically. “One of my brothers does paints and he told me…um…he told me about Ki-passo and No-mey.” It was Caroline’s turn to giggle. “I think you mean Monet.” She turned a page to where Water Lilies was depicted and pointed. “Monet’s paintings are really fuzzy, but, sometimes, if you squint real hard, it gets a little clearer.” He did and she became endeared by him. His head quirked to the right when he looked up at her again. “What does it say?” “What?” “Right there.” He pointed to the caption beneath the picture. “It says, ‘Water Lilies, by Claude Monet. In 1893, Monet purchased land with a pond near his property in Giverny, intending to build something “for the pleasure of the eye and also for motifs to paint.” The result was his water-lily garden.’.” “And that one?” He pointed to the adjacent page where one of Edgar Degas’ Dancer paintings was printed. “‘Edgar Degas was a French artist famous for his paintings, sculptures, prints, and drawings. He is especially identified with the subject of dance; more than half of his works depict dancers.’” She smiled, running her hand over the photo. “He’s one of my favorites.” “Mine too,” a masculine voice said from behind her. Both Henrik and Caroline turned in unison to find a man standing in the doorway. Her heart was aflutter with surprise and mild intrigue. “Nik!” Henrik’s chair thrust from behind him, falling over, and he darted across to hug him. Caroline closed her book and stood, adjusting her shirt, very aware that the man’s fierce blue eyes hadn’t left her since they’d met. She held the book to her chest and put on her best smile, despite the slight agitation that this blonde mystery man was almost thirty minutes late. “My apologies for the delay,” he spoke with a distinctly British accent. “There was a bit of a mix up. Today was supposed to be my sister’s turn to pick Henrik up but she fancied herself a trip to detention instead.” “No worries. These things happen.” Henrik was all smiles, hanging onto his brother’s leg. “Miss Caroline knows A’casso.” “Pi-casso,” he corrected. “And I’m very pleased to hear that your teacher is well-educated in the arts.” Caroline smiled wryly. “You must be the brother who paints.” “I am,” he nodded, doing a quick once over, “but you can call me Klaus.” She nodded. She knew this game well. It wasn’t the first time one of her kid’s parents had shown interest. Mr. Salvatore had been particularly persistent, she remembered. Mrs. Salvatore wasn’t too pleased when she got the call from Caroline about her husband’s inappropriate behavior. “Nice to meet you, Klaus. I’ll see you tomorrow, Henrik.” She turned to head back to her desk, unaware of the curious frown she’d left on his face. “I really am sorry.” “I know you are.” She shot him a knowing smirk as she returned her book to its brethren. “Have a nice day, Mr. Mikaelson.”

Whenever it was raining, standard protocol for Kindergarten was to have parents enter the building and pick up their child on a one by one basis. For the most part, they were accommodating and prompt. Except for one. “Do you know who’s picking you up today, Henrik?” He gave a little nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and went back to book he was looking at, clumsily pushing his hair out of his face. Caroline sighed, glancing up at the clock again. It was 3:11 p.m. She could’ve guessed who his ride was today, but she dreaded having to encounter another sloppy pick-up line and the awkward tension that followed it. She’d been fortunate enough all week but on this rainy Thursday, the odds were clearly against her. Admittedly, he was an attractive man. His face had all the right angles in all the right places, and his eyes held a certain mystique. She wasn’t normally one to get lost in blue eyes (she’d seen enough in the mirror) but his were that crystalline sapphire that no living being was immune to. Aesthetics were only half the battle, as their intensity and depth only created more intrigue. There was a certain anguish behind them, a bit of mystery and that was the real clincher. Mysterious guys were always insanely alluring, but she knew better than to trust them. Lost in her daze, she failed to realize Henrik was standing in front of her desk waiting patiently for her to notice. She blinked and snapped out of it. “Oh. I’m sorry, Henrik. Did you need something?” He held up the book he’d been perusing, covering the better portion of his face with it. “Will you read this to me?” She smiled a heartwarming smile and laid her pen down pushing herself back from the desk. “Of course.” She got up and immediately Henrik ran over to the carpet where the class held their “story time” circle. She couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped out at his compulsory habits. Instead of dragging one of the chairs over, she joined him, sitting crisscrossed just as he was. He craned his neck to look over her arm when she opened the storybook to the first page: “'The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind, and another, his mother called him “WILD THING!” And Max said “I’LL EAT YOU UP!” so he was sent to bed without eating anything.” She turned a page and Henrik’s eyes followed studiously. “That very night in Max’s room a forest grew and grew and grew until his ceiling hung with vines, and the walls became the world all around, and an ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max, and he sailed off through night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the wild things are.” She glanced up to check the time doing a double take when she saw Klaus standing in the doorway. He pressed his index finger to his lips and gestured for her to go on, his eyes slyly pointing toward Henrik. She looked down and saw the little boy looking up at her, waiting patiently but his eyes were enthralled. “You wanna turn the next page?” He smiled and nodded and she turned the book so he could lift the page, turning it with pride and basking in having the special privilege to do what no other kindergartner was permitted. His eyes scanned the contents of the new pictures and words, as if he were absorbing every detail. “When he came to the place where the wild things are, they roared their terrible roars – ” her voice roared as she read, “ – and gnashed their terrible teeth – ” she bared her teeth “ – and rolled their terrible eyes – ” her own eyes bulged “ – and showed their terrible claws till Max said “BE STILL!” And tamed with the magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once, and they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all, and made him king of all wild things.” Henrik beamed and threw his hands up. “Let the wild rumpus start!” Caroline laughed. “Oh so you know this story.” He bowed his head bashfully, grinning up at her with a guilty look. “Well then you won’t mind if we finish it tomorrow. I think someone is here for you.” She nodded at the doorway. Henrik turned and looked. This time, instead of running for his brother, he turned his back on him and sulked. “Can we finish the story first?” Klaus smiled knowingly and meandered over, hands clasped behind his back. “Now, Henrik, I’m sure Miss Caroline has more important things she’ll need to be getting to.” Henrik looked down with the saddest eyes she’d ever seen. She couldn’t keep her hand from going to her chest, especially when he stuck his lower lip out in a dejected little pout. Klaus sighed, seemingly familiar with this tactic, and crouched down to his brother’s level. Suddenly his voice softened and lost all trace of irony.   “If you think about it, she’s just said she can read more to you tomorrow. Which means the sooner we finish up today, the sooner it will be tomorrow.” His brows raised in a pointed look as Henrik studied his expression. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed. Klaus nodded and stood once again while Henrik pushed himself up with his palms and picked the open book up from her lap, looking wistfully down at the pages. “Can you teach me to read?” “Hmm. I think maybe we should finish learning the alphabet, don’t you?” “I already learned,” he objected. Klaus crossed his arms with a challenging smile. “Let’s hear it, then.” Henrik stood proudly, his voice contrastingly gentle. “A B C D E F G, H I J K M&Ms O P…” He mumbled the last, blushing at their direct attention on him. Caroline laughed. “What about L and N?” “Indeed,” Klaus agreed, smiling too. “I think they’ll be lonely without the rest of their mates.” Henrik stared at him in confusion. “Never mind. Go on and put your book back and get your things. We’ve imposed on Miss Caroline enough for today.” “Oh, he hasn’t imposed.” She crossed her arms with a guarded smile. “Just you.” His lips pursed in a smirk. “My apologies.” “Let me guess. Another mix up?” “Actually – ” She held a hand up. “It’s okay. No need to explain or apologize. Not to me, anyway.” She stalked away from him coolly to help Henrik gather his things. “I’ll make you a deal,” she told him, glancing sideways at Klaus. “Since your brother can’t seem to pick you up on time, we can practice reading while we wait for him. Okay?” Henrik’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Promise?” “I promise.” “You have to say “you have my word.” That’s what Elijah and Nik always say.” Klaus’ head dropped to his chest with a chuckle and even Caroline couldn’t help her laugh. When he didn’t budge, his little frown lines determined, she composed herself, pressing her lips thin with a nod. “You have my word,” she promised. The five-year-old’s shoulders sagged in relief and he smiled satisfactorily. “Don’t forget your coat in the closet.” He nodded obligingly and ran to where his raincoat hung above his cubby. “Thank you,” Klaus’ voice was at her neck, the rest of him suddenly beside her. She shivered but turned and gave him a resolute nod. “Truly. I appreciate you taking the time to facilitate his interests.” “It’s my job.” She folded her arms. “Besides, what else are we supposed to do while we wait for you?” He tilted his head with a sly grin. “Well now that I know he’s not the only one interested in my arrival…” “That is not what I meant.” But he only continued smirking. And oh God, the dimples. Why did he have to have dimples? She shook her head, her own lips betraying her in a smile. “You know I’m starting to think you do it on purpose.” “What?” “Show up only after all the other students and parents are gone.” “What purpose would that serve?” “To get me alone. Have me all to yourself.” He pursed his lips in a deliberating pout. “That is an advantage, however you’re forgetting one minor detail.” He gestured to Henrik who was busy working diligently to get the buttons of his coat all snapped. She laughed mockingly. “Right! Your little womanizing sidekick. Winning the hearts of girls everywhere by asking them to read to him until you can swoop in at the perfect moment. With the perfect thing to say.” She narrowed her eyes, nodding with a finger directed at his chest. “I’m onto you, buddy.” He looked down at her finger then slyly back up to her face. “Now why would I reduce myself to such juvenile measures knowing a woman as clever as yourself wouldn’t be susceptible to it?” He lifted a brow for added flair. Her hands went to her hips and she continued nodding. “See? Perfect.” He laughed and she found it was a sound she was starting to favor. Lucky for her morals and dignity, Henrik rejoined them, his jacket buttons all snapped and completely off center. He had skipped one but his proud smile kept them from correcting his error. “Got everything?” she asked and he nodded. “Good. So we’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow, right?” “Right. And don’t forget, you gived me your word. It’s in my pocket so I won’t forget to bring it.” She giggled again, putting her hands up. “I am at your will.” He beamed up at Klaus excitedly, but Klaus had his own excited sights set on someone else. “Until tomorrow, then.” “Until tomorrow,” she agreed. He flashed her one last dimpled smile, completely smug, before taking the lead to exit. Henrik looked up with a curious frown as they walked out, his voice echoing in the hallway, “But I thought tomorrow’s Elijah’s turn…” Caroline laughed to herself as she walked through the classroom, straightening up the chairs and stray supplies. So maybe he wasn’t the worst Mikaelson. Despite her best efforts, he had charmed her. Not only was he sweetly devoted to Henrik and extremely easy on the eyes, but he was smart, and artistically inclined, and…smooth. Yes, damn him, he was slick as oil. The really warm kind that was used for pleasure. A movement outside the window caught her attention and it was Klaus and Henrik walking down the front path of the school towards an SUV that was waiting by the curb. That was awfully bold of him, leaving such an expensive looking car with the keys in the ignition. And then it happened. The passenger side door opened and she caught a silhouette masked by a curtain of blonde. Henrik waved and the woman stepped out, leaning over to hug him as she did. She saw Klaus’ hand go to her waist and he kissed her cheek. That was enough. Caroline turned away from the window scoffing at herself for being so naive. How could she have let herself believe he might actually have been genuine? Here he was trying to sweet talk her when he had another bimbo in the car waiting for him! She should have trusted her instincts, realized he was just like all the other fathers that hit on her, but he played the game well, answering a question with a question to avoid a direct rebuttal, all the while ensnaring her with his wit and his too blue eyes and his stupid, obnoxious dimples! Well no way would she let him get away with it. No one made a fool out of Caroline Forbes.

~ ~ Part Two coming soon! ~ ~