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writeyouin · 4 years

Note

oho Bet. Guy from The Croods x Gender Neutral Reader where they were childhood friends/neighbors and they meet again at the "new world". (instead of Guy and Eek falling for each other they become friends) Sorry if it's weird to read, it's 3:30 am.

Guy Crood X Reader – The New World

A/N – Writing this fic was the only way I ever found out that there’s a Croods sequel in the works.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You hid in the bushes, cautiously watching the family before you as they violently tore hunks of meat of a huge bird. The speed and ferocity with which they ate was sickening, not to mention the gristle and fat that dripped grotesquely down their fronts. You had thought that you would be safe in the New World, never suspecting that cavemen would also find the way to it, unevolved as they were. Only one of the females looked anything closer to the evolution that had taken place in your tribe generations ago, but you doubted her intelligence was any better than theirs.

You wondered whether you ought to kill them; you had tried to communicate with cavemen in the past and it never ended well. Then again, it might not even be possible to take on all six of them. You were sure that you could kill the Alpha male with your speed against his strength. The other male would probably die of a self-inflicted injury in the heat of combat; he certainly looked dim enough. The alpha’s mate would hopefully be preoccupied with the fate of her son. It was the last three that worried you. The elder might look frail but she had to be tough to have survived so long. The young girl was clearly fast and strong, a combination of her parent’s best traits. That left the worst one of all; the baby. You had seen her bite the head clean off a lizard only seconds ago; she was clearly the most dangerous member of the pack.

Regretfully, you decided to abandon any thought of fighting, as well as that area of the New World. Perhaps you could make your home elsewhere, with the hopes that the cavemen wouldn’t find you.

“Ugh, that was delicious,” The alpha-male belched.

You slung your bow over your shoulder, tiptoeing quietly away, only stopping when you heard the girl speak. “Hey… where’s the leg I saved for Guy?”

‘Guy!’ Your breath hitched in your throat as you remembered your childhood friend. It couldn’t be him, could it? Was Guy a common name nowadays? The Guy you knew was as afraid of cavemen as you were. He wouldn’t travel with them, right?

On the slim chance that it was your Guy that the cavemen knew, you decided to stay and wait for him to come back to the pack. Coating yourself in mud to camouflage yourself and hide your scent, you hunkered down, clutching your bow tightly in case a fight should occur.

You continued observing the family, bemused when a fight broke out over who had eaten the last bird leg. You soon learnt that their names were Grug, Ugga, Eep, Sandy, Thunk and Gran, and together they were the Croods. Should a confrontation arise, their names might come in useful to diffuse the situation.

As the night drifted on and the Croods occupied themselves with stories for Sandy, you thought back, losing yourself in memories of when you and Guy were children.

“Help.” A sniffly voice on the verge of crying called from the bottom of a steep slope.

You poked your head over the edge, finding the new boy, whose family had just moved into the cave next door to yours.

“Hey,” Guy said upon seeing you. “Please, help me.”

You giggled upon seeing him fail to scale the shale wall, trying to reach you.

“You’re not supposed to play there, new boy,” You grinned.

“Okay, I won’t ever again. Now, get me out of here.”

“What’s your name?”

Guy stared up at you exasperatedly, “Come on, get me out.”

“I will, if you tell me your name.”

“It’s Guy.”

“Hi Guy, I’m (Y/N).”

“That’s not a name.”

“Neither is Guy,” You pouted.

“Yes it is, and you promised to help me if I told you, so there.”

“Uh huh,” You replied non-committedly, looking around for anything that might aid Guy. You lowered a long, withered stick down into the pit for him to grab hold of. Gratefully, he began climbing it, trying his best to be quick.

“You’re heavy,” You whined. “Hurry up before I drop you.”

Guy did his best to speed up, but with no footholds in the shale, he had only his arms to work with.

“How old are you?” You grunted through gritted teeth.

“Seven,” Guy groaned.

“No way. I’m seven and I’m not nearly as heavy as you are. You must be…” You paused, trying to think of the highest number you knew, “Twelve.”

“I’m not twelve! I’m seven, like you,” Guy insisted, finally reaching the top and dragging himself out.

You let him catch his breath before asking, “Now what?”

“I’ve gotta go home or my parents will worry. Are you coming?”

“I guess.”

With that, the two of you walked back to your adjacent caves within the tribe, talking the entire way back. Afterwards, the two of you became fast friends. Growing up together, Guy always shared his best ideas with you; his family seemed to be full of great thinkers. In return, you taught him the tribe’s way of hunting, camouflage, and how to mentally map out the terrain. You asked him once why he hadn’t learnt such important things from his old tribe, only to find out that he and his parents had been loners living in the wilderness until they came across your tribe.

In your early teenage years, Guy invented puppet shows, explaining the concept to you so the two of you could tell a story at the nightly gathering.

You giggled as you made a tiny old woman puppet on your hand bow. “The tribe will love this.”

“Yeah… The tribe will,” Guy said, thinking of how he had invented the puppets as a way to get closer to you than he normally would.

That night was one of merriment and wonder for the entire tribe. While you kept peeking around the boulder that acted as a stage to enjoy the audience’s reactions, Guy was watching you, preparing to ask you out before some other, braver tribesman did. After the show, when everyone was preparing to sleep, Guy finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, an action that led to what was simultaneously the best and worst night of your lives.

“You what?” You asked, trying to make sense of the rushed invitation Guy asked moments prior.

“Sometime, I mean, anytime you’re free, I was wondering if you uh, might want to go out with me,” Guy said slowly.

A grin spread across your face, “We could go now.”

“Now?! But it’s night time. There’s- There’s no light.”

“We’ll take torches.”

Uncertain about going, yet unwilling to lose his chance with you, Guy borrowed two torches from the communal fire pit. The two of you walked far beyond the edge of the tribe, into the wilderness where you could be alone together.

When the two of you reached the cliff, the two of you sat with your legs hanging over the edge. In a comfortable silence, bathed in moonlight you gazed up at the stars. Guy kept his eyes on you, smiling boyishly.

“(Y/N),” Guy murmured, drawing your gaze to his face.

Instead of speaking, he leaned forwards. You mirrored his action, relishing the way your foreheads touched, then your noses. Everything felt so intimate under the moon’s watchful gaze. Any second now and your lips would meet his, or at least they would have, had the ground not started shaking. The two of you jumped up, backing away from the edge of the cliff.

“What’s going on?” You gasped.

“I don’t know. I-” Guy was interrupted by the distant screams that echoed through the previously peaceful night air.

“THE TRIBE!” You cried out.

You broke into a run with Guy close behind you, each of you struggling to keep your balance on the unstable ground. Trees began uprooting themselves as large fissures opened in the earth below.

You were nearing the screaming tribe when Guy roared, “(Y/N), LOOK OUT!”

He had warned you just in time for you to leap out of the way of a newly formed chasm that swallowed the earth where you were standing only moments before. Guy morosely called your name, painfully aware that the two of you were now separated.

“Don’t worry about me,” You called back. “Get back home, I’ll find another way to get there, I promise.”

Guy nodded assent and ran towards the tribe just in time to watch his family slowly die in tar and hear their last goodbyes. You, on the other hand, never got to keep your promise. The new terrain provided no way back to the only home you had ever known, and eventually you were forced to flee as fire, lava, and tar pursued you.

In the years of isolation that followed, whilst searching for a place safe from The End, you often thought of Guy, hoping that he had survived that terrible night. Now, you had been provided a chance to see if it was your Guy travelling with these Croods. You desperately hoped it was him, so you could finally know that your friend was safe, and maybe even put an end to the solitary life that fate had forced upon you.

The rancid smell of bog water intermingled with wet fur drew you out of your reverie. Suddenly on edge about a possible animal attack, you squatted into a fighting stance and readied your bow. A large carnivorous cat pounced through the surrounding foliage, launching itself at Grug. You prepared yourself to watch a bloody massacre that would lead to the Croods’ demise, but instead found yourself watching the creature affectionately groom Grug, purring the entire time.

Soon enough, more animals followed, one for each Crood so it seemed. You scowled, thinking that perhaps Guy was the name of Eep’s pet, but your expression quickly transformed into one of radiant joy as a man followed the animals. He was older, his hair longer, and there was some kind of odd creature hugging his waist, but there was no mistaking it; that was your Guy.

“Next time, it’s Thunk’s turn to walk the pets,” Guy said bemusedly. “There’s just no keeping them out of that stagnant water.”

Shouldering your bow, you wasted no time in getting up. You were still afraid of the cavemen, but if worst came to worst, you could always grab Guy and run.

“Uh hi, room for one more?” You asked awkwardly.

You immediately began to regret your choice not to get Guy alone as you were grabbed by several pairs of hands.

“WHO ARE YOU?” Eep demanded, pulling you in one direction.

“EEP, I’LL ASK THE QUESTIONS,” Grug reminded her, pulling you in the opposite direction. “WHO ARE YOU?”

“Can we all ask?” Thunk grinned. “Who are you?”

“Sweetie, this isn’t a game,” Ugga warned Thunk. “Hold onto Sandy before she eats the intruder.”

“I SAY WE RELEASE THE BABY,” Gran cackled wickedly.

Throughout the interaction, Guy had been entirely too shocked to say anything, but he finally stepped in, pushing himself between you and the Croods.

“Everyone, wait. This is (Y/N), the two of us grew up together. We- We know each-other.”

Reluctantly, Grug let you go, but Eep’s grip only tightened and you were faced with a barrage of ecstatic questions. “You knew Guy? What was it like growing up? Do you have ideas too? Do you make fire? How well do you know him? What’s the curvy string stick on your back for? Do you have a pet too? Were you being chased by The End? How did you find your way here? What do you-”

“Eep,” Ugga said quietly. “I think that Guy may want some time to catch up with his old friend.”

Eep fell silent, looking up at Guy, finding an expression of sadness and awe written on his face. “Oh, right, yeah. We’ll just leave you too it. Uh… C’mon Croods, let’s go for another pet walk.”

All of the group left except Gran who took a seat, waiting for the show to start. Grug quickly came back and put her over his shoulder; she grumbled cantankerously as he carried her away.

“So…” You said awkwardly, unaccustomed to talking to others after so long alone.

“So…” Guy parroted, having been caught completely off-guard.

“Cavemen?”

“Yeah,” Guy laughed nervously. “But they’re good ones.”

“And…our tribe?” You asked, hoping that Guy wasn’t the only one who had made it out.

He shook his head, “Gone. We’re all that’s left.”

“Oh…”

“(Y/N), I never stopped looking for you. I always hoped… I mean- and now you’re here and I don’t know what to say.”

“I know what you mean. I kept hoping if I travelled far enough, I would find you and now I have. So much has changed, where do we even begin?”

“Well… I suppose we could begin where we left off,” Guy said thoughtfully. “We tell each other everything that’s happened, no matter how long it takes and we learn who we’ve both become.”

Guy sat down on a log, offering you the space next to him. You sat down tentatively,

“Okay,” You said quietly. “That sounds good. You go first. Tell me your story Guy.”

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#Guy Crood #Guy Crood X Reader #the croods #dreamworks #grug #uga #thunk #eep #gran #sandy #fanfiction #fanfic #reader #reader insert #the new world #Anonymous

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gigilberry-wips · 3 years

Text

Ch. 14. Rapunzel’s POV: Mid November

Media: Fanfiction

Rating: General

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J.K Rowling, Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons/The Big Four, Tangled, Rise of the Guardians, The Book of Life, The Incredibles, Home, Big Hero 6, The Secret of Kells, The Croods

Characters: Rapunzel (Disney), Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Sanjay (The Book of Life), Violet Parr (The Incredibles), Gratuity Tucci (Home), Hiro Hamada (Big Hero 6), Aisling (The Secret of Kells), Eep (The Croods), Guy (The Croods), Original Female Character(s)

Tags: Hogwarts AU, kid!fic, Boarding School, Fantasy Elements, Fluff, Magic, Slice of Life

Word count: 8,291 words

Chapters:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

AO3 Link

Summary:

In which Rapunzel makes a mess, lures unsuspecting adults with candy, and gets her brain turned upside down twice.

.°○.♡.○°.

A/N:

Turns out this chapter wasn't as large as I'd initially thought and the real reason it had felt that way was because I was hyping myself up for the author's end note that goes with this. It got long enough that I couldn't fit all of it into the end notes section and put it in the fic itself. There's a partition that marks off where it starts.

Warning: In the end notes I discuss some things related to childhood abuse and emotional trauma. There's nothing very detailed or graphic in there, but if you are someone who's uncomfortable with this topic then I advise you to proceed with caution.

.°○.♡.○°.

In a hidden recess near the entrance hall a pair of pranksters planned a prank, as they are wont to do. Technically, Jack and Sanjay were involved in an informal contest of trying to one-up the other, but on this occasion they’d come up with something that, if done together, would make for a much more successful and all around entertaining prank. And so they plotted and they watched and they waited for a chance, for just the right moment to strike…

Rapunzel, walking down a separate hallway, was unaware of this.

She was busy puzzling over a thought. It was a thought about another thought, which had originated from a different thought, and all three of those thoughts were for the purpose of remembering something else that had flickered in and out of mind so quickly that Rapunzel was floundering to find it again. It had been a good one, too. Something to do with magic, something about her mindset…

Rapunzel had recently taken up some “supplementary learning”. Oh, sure, she was still doing her schoolwork--or at least, enough of it to make it look like she was paying some amount of attention. But no one had technically told her not to go looking for more learning than what she’d been given and she was doing it in her free time, so… no harm done, right?

Her current interest was, of course, magic. Unlike in her classes, her way of going about it focused a good deal less on books and a good deal more on learning magic through her own magic. It made for more work on her end, since much of it involved figuring out how she did what she was doing so she that could do the same thing again if she wanted to. But it was fun work, and she learnt more about herself, too. Like how she interacted with the magic she used. How what she felt or did or said factored into things. Most of all, that much of it had to do with getting her mind right.

While those thoughts went circling around each other, her stomach made a mention that she was getting hungry, but Rapunzel did not notice. Most of her focus was taken up by those other thoughts clamoring for her attention and the steadily building frustration of searching for something she could’ve sworn she’d seen just a second ago.

It was approaching the lunch hour and the corridors were crowded. Rapunzel wandered into the entrance hall without really realizing it, and it was right about then that the two forces of trickery set their plan into motion.

What exactly they’d initially wished to accomplish was, to this day, still up for debate, seeing as the two responsible had yet to fess up. What they have said on the subject is simply, “Doesn’t matter what we’d planned because that was brilliant.”

Here are the facts.

As the two cast the magic, a wave of magical energy they and most others were entirely unaware of went hurtling into the hall. This and what was supposed to have followed after it made for the space in the middle of the room right under the chandelier. Were it not for the crowd and her own preoccupation, Rapunzel would have likely passed well beyond that point and been nearer to the doors.

But that wasn’t what happened. Instead, she felt the magic before it came at her, the magnitude and the force and the energy of it barreling into her mental vicinity so suddenly she barely processed it and it was so big and headed her way and there was nowhere else to go-

She reacted on instinct.

Eyes shut, hands thrown up, a wordless shout-

BOOM

A sound like a giant carnival balloon exploded into the room and suddenly everything was a cacophony of confusion. A confusion that billowed up and up, all around them, warm as a summer day, and strangely soft, and…pink?

Rapunzel opened her eyes to a sea of pink candy floss. The entrance hall had gone from its usual echoing afternoon chatter to a din of screaming and shouting, and then to a lot less screaming and a lot more excited shouting, with several professors’ voices thrown in to try and reign in some order.

The candy floss came right up to Rapunzel’s armpits and from there it burgeoned up and above, rising high overhead and not giving much insight into what was happening to the rest of the room. If her brain hadn’t been so full of flurrying static, then Rapunzel would’ve taken a bite. But instead of getting to that mental landmark her mind was currently taking a spin on a thought train that was still reeling over the fact that in all her life Rapunzel had never eaten candy floss so how could she have possibly done all of this and did it have something to do with whatever she’d felt earlier well of course it did but how much of it was that and how much was her and could she make a spell out of this or did one already exist but wait what if-

A sound like someone cutting into raw sheep wool ripped through the air before a professor stepped out of the hill of pink, making swiping motions with her wand and clearing away the surrounding candy to create a professor-shaped tunnel behind her.

Professor Ginna smiled, her golden tooth glinting. “When you want to find the cause of something, start at the source.” A twirl of her wand and the candy floss crowded against Rapunzel vanished from sight. “That was an impressive bit of magic there.”

Now that Rapunzel could move her limbs, she meekly huddled them in on herself, her hands wringing together. “…um…professor? I…I don’t really know how any of this happened, I’m sorry. Am I in trouble?”

“Could be. But these two definitely are.” Professor Parr stomped into the clearing, the fluff scurrying from her boots. Instead of a wand, her hands were occupied with gripping two boys who were making sounds that might have been pleas of innocence were it not for the fact that most of it was lost in them laughing themselves silly.

“Ah, I see you’ve found the guilty party. Well done, Daffodil.” Ginna waved her wand at her and stray bits of candy floss cleared from Parr’s long, black hair. If anything, Parr looked even less pleased.

“I already told you. My name’s Violet,” Parr huffed, and was it just Rapunzel’s imagination or was the professor sulking?

“And I’ve already told you to just call me Lelani. Here now, give me one of those.” Ginna moved aside. Rapunzel got a look at one of the boys and—wait, she knew that face. She knew the face and the hair and the voice and the person it all belonged to that was her friend that was Jack! That was her Jack!! Jack!

“JACK!”

She tackled him. Which meant they crashed into Parr and she somehow caught them both.

“…What? What are you-? Who??” His voice tickled her ear. His breath was warm, and he was warm and he was real and she’d found him! She’d found him!

Rapunzel leaned back and beamed at him. “Hi! Hi hi hi!”

“…Rapunzel? Ellie?” His eyes widened. “Ellie! You made it!” He hugged her back, and both of them went teetering sideways, shrieking and laughing. “I’m so happy to see you, Ellie!”

“I’m happy too! I’m so happy I found you!”

She was so, so happy. She could run the breadth of the sea or climb up to the moon. She wanted to stand on the highest mountain and scream her joy to the stars. This was the best day! The best day of her life!

Adult-sized arms wrapped around them both. “Alright, alright, settle down. This is all very sweet, but you two can catch up later. Come on now, that’s enough.” Still giggling, the two separated. Rapunzel peered up at Parr. Her professor looked tired.

Parr shot a half-hearted scowl to the two boys. “Of all the days for you imps to pull this…”

“Oh, it’ll be fine, surely. It’s just a routine visit, same as usual. We’ll have all this cleaned up in no time.” Ginna waved a nonchalant hand, her shoulder going up with the movement.

Parr sighed. “It’s not just that, not today at least. I’d wanted to…well, I know some of the people coming today—old friends from my school days, you know, nothing special—and I’d been…wanting to impress them.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking like she didn’t want to look at anyone at the moment.

“Ah. So that’s what it is.” Ginna hummed. Then she nudged a boy her direction. “Tell you what. How about you take care of these kids and I help with clean up down here?”

“Thank you so much.”

“Pay for the drinks next Hogsmead weekend and it’s a deal.” With that, Ginna marched back into the candy floss, her black pointy hat the only thing seen of her until it, too, disappeared.

The three children—namely Jack and his friend, both of whom wore matching I Am Pretending To Be Serious faces—were given a short, stern lecture and then all were quickly herded up the stairs. Professor Donadieu was the Head of Gryffindor, and since Jack—he was real! He was here! She could walk beside him and hold his hand and he was here!—and his friend were both Gryffindors, Parr brought them all to the teacher’s staffroom on the 4th floor corridor. While the boys were bustled inside, Rapunzel obediently stayed put across the hall but otherwise rocked lightly on her heels from the lingering excitement of the afternoon.

That excitement had a strange, wonderful quality to it that fluttered around in her head. Something light, and bubbly, and…musical, like birdsong, almost. If it were a food, it would be some kind of puff pastry, she reasoned. Cream puffs? Cream puffs were nice. Lemon meringues were too, they melted in the mouth and she could make them into cookies and pies with powdered sugar on top— oh! Sugar crystals! And sugar decorations, made with fruity sugar syrups and in so many different colors. They were so stretchy while cooking but so thin and sparkly when they hardened and looked so pretty on cakes…

“…talking to herself…strange little thing…”

Rapunzel blinked the world back into focus mid-mutter. She realized that her hands had been making vague, floating movements in front of her. She also realized that the voices she heard were real.

Behind her hung a painting of a group of ballgown bedecked women. They paused in their tittering and fan waving when Rapunzel turned around.

“Hello?” She asked.

“…how did you…? Do you understand us?”

The woman who asked it received a fan smacked to her shoulder from her friend. “Don’t be silly, look at her! She couldn’t have possibly—”

“I can understand you. Why wouldn’t I? Should I not be able to? Oh, I’m sorry--good afternoon! My name is Rapunzel. Who are all of you?”

“…well, wonder of wonders…”

The women huddled around her. Those who had been wandering in and out of frame paused to listen.

It was a few minutes later that Rapunzel found herself accosted.

It was another minute after that that a woman came chattering around the corner.

“Alrighty, Hiro, I’d warned you that the next time you went wandering off like that I’m strapping you to a kiddie leash, so that’s what I’m—”

She paused. Then she looked around, took in the scene again, and squinted, as if to confirm that she was, indeed, witnessing the man she’d been looking for carrying a little girl on his hip while said girl busily fed the both of them wads of cotton candy that seemed to be coming right out of her hands. The two looked up, faces covered in identical pink fluff, the girl partway through stuffing a fistful of it into her mouth.

Rapunzel, for her part, saw a woman with dark brown skin, a halo of curly brown hair, and the most judgmental frown she’d ever seen directed at her. She took a moment to properly chew what was in her mouth and guiltily swallowed it.

“Hiro. That is a child. Put it down.”

The man carrying Rapunzel—his name was Hiro, apparently—glanced back at Rapunzel like the thought of her being a child had just entered his head.

“Oh right, she is. Yeah, sure, I’ll do it—although technically, she’s the one who asked me first—but like, before that—check this out.” He bumped Rapunzel higher on his hip, making her giggle. “Cuantos años tienes?”

“Tengo once años, señor.” Rapunzel answered back.

“Placetne tibi crustula?”

“Ita.”

“Anata no mē wo nani iro?”

“Midori!”

“Do you know which language that last one was?”

Rapunzel shook her head. “No. What is it?”

“Japanese. Did you understand it?”

“I did.”

“Tip, you hear that? You see, she was talking to this painting when I found her here. But the thing is they were talking in Spanish. The entire time. And also—Rapunzel? Rapunzel, was it?” Rapunzel nodded. “What's that thing you were telling me about earlier?”

“There was a big candy explosion downstairs and I don’t know how it happened but I figured out how to make candy floss!” Rapunzel brought her hands together. A ball of candy floss swirled into the air, as pink and soft and delectably fluffy as the rest in the entrance hall had been. She held it up. “Tada!”

Hiro turned a bright, eager grin to his companion. The grin reminded Rapunzel of Nancy. Come to think of it, a lot of other things about him reminded her of Nancy. Similar in features but different too. Must’ve been in the eyebrows, or the accent. “Tip. Tip, please. Can we keep her? Can we get more? I want ten.”

The woman sighed. “Hiro, we are not kidnapping children. And did you even introduce yourself to her?”

“Of course I did. Who do you take me for? Hi, I’m Hiro Hamada, nice to meet you, howdoyoudo, at your service, etcetera etcetera. And the lady over there is Tip.”

“It’s Gratuity Tucci, actually.”

“But if you call her that, you die a mysterious death.” Hiro leaned in real close and mock whispered to Rapunzel.

While the two giggled, Ms. Tucci rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We have a job to do, remember?”

From somewhere near Hiro’s elbow, a voice piped up. “Excuse me, that’s our friend. Could we have her back, please?”

The one who’d spoken was Jack. He frowned up at Hiro, Sanjay hovering a step or two behind him. At that angle the two looked so small that it brought to mind just how young they were and how tall Hiro must’ve been to make them seem like that. It was a strange sight for Rapunzel, especially when she had up until that point only ever seen Jack as “fun” or “cool”, not something like “short”.

For his part Hiro seemed amused. “Nice friends you have here. Hello, Rapunzel’s friends.”

Sanjay stared up at him. “Are you a wizard?”

“No.”

“A witch?”

“Nope.”

“…A mage?”

“Correct. Or rather, a subsect of it. I’m an Artificer. She is, too.”

“You mean I’m one of the only ones they’ve got who can keep up with you. Hence why I’m the one in charge of this operation. Speaking of,” Ms. Tucci took out her wand and gave it a neat swish. The candy floss disappeared from Hiro’s face, as well as from Rapunzel’s cheeks and hands. “There. Much more presentable. Are you done here?”

“I am. But wait--what is this I see?” Hiro reached behind Rapunzel’s ear. When he brought it back, it held the tiniest bouquet of buttercups. “A parting gift, for such a charming young lady as yourself. I hope you like it.”

A gift! When it wasn’t even her birthday, or a holiday, or any such special occasion. And it wasn’t her mother or a friend who gave it, but a stranger, someone who’d decided he liked her enough to give it to her. Her, Rapunzel, not anyone else.

A deep well of gratitude surged through her. It was all Rapunzel could do not to burst into tears. “I love it! Thank you!”

Rapunzel made as if to throw her arms around Hiro, but he caught her before she could. “Aaaaand that’s enough of that. Down ya get, kiddo. Shoo.”

He set her on her feet. Rapunzel would’ve said something—weren’t they friends? Why the sudden farewell? What happened?—but at that moment Jack grabbed her, dragged her off to a secluded corner, and proceeded to hiss at her about Stranger Danger.

(“But he’s not a stranger stranger, he’s my friend, right?”

“No, he’s not. He’s a grown up and you don’t know him and he doesn’t know you. And even if you did, you still don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“The, the hugging. And all of that.”

“…But I hug my mother, too? And he gave me a gift?”

“That’s not important--okay, okay, wait, listen. Listen, okay, please don’t go. Yes, your gift is nice, and I’m sure you like it, but I don’t care what they give you, you don’t just go and hug some random adult, or let them hug you, or anything else. That’s how people get cooties.”

“Cooties? What’re those?”

“Uh, germs, I guess. Everyone has them. People don’t want other people’s germs. I don’t want your germs. You don’t want my germs. Nobody wants anybody’s germs. Got it?”

“…does this mean I can’t hug you anymore?”

“What—no, that wasn’t—”

“Friends hug each other, right? Was I not supposed to hug you? Did it make you upset? Did I do something wrong? Do I—”

“Nonono—you didn’t. It’s okay, I promise, please, you don’t have to feel bad—”

“So I can hug you?”

“I—I mean—that’s not, um…” Jack fumbled, looking anywhere but at her, his ears going pinkish for some reason. After a few moments, his shoulders drooped. He sighed. “…yes. Yes you can.”

“Yay!” Rapunzel flung herself at him, hugging him so hard he had to windmill his arms to stay upright. Nearby, Sanjay could be heard doing a very poor job of pretending he wasn’t listening.)

Misadventures and strange talks aside, the day had thus far yielded Rapunzel’s first best friend, a learning experience, food she’d never had before, and a pretty gift. And she hadn’t even eaten lunch yet.

All in all, a good day.

.°○.♡.○°.

As it so happened, Rapunzel’s gift proved to be more of a gift than she first realized. After almost a week of having them, the flowers had yet to wilt or wither, even after Rapunzel hadn’t put them in water purely out of the fact that she kept forgetting to do so.

They were certainly flowers, neither synthetic nor magic but entirely organic, with the only oddity being that they held a faint, soothing scent that made her heart lighter whenever she smelled it. On an instinctual level, Rapunzel knew that they weren’t alive, and thus were not taking nutrition or energy from some unknown source.

And yet… there they remained, as fresh and whole and brightly yellow as when she’d first received them.

Rapunzel was obsessed with them. Hopelessly, utterly, obsessed. They shoveled all her other interests out the door and consumed her entire waking life. Any moment she could spare, and even those she couldn’t, she would be fussing over her flowers, trying to figure out what they were, how they worked, and how she could bring one into existence. Did whatever magic it was only make buttercups? Or did it prefer yellow flowers in general? Could she create buttercups but in different colors? Could she do that for other flowers? How many possibilities were there and where could she find them she needed to find them they had to be somewhere she needed to know-

It was a good thing she had more than one flower, at least. (The first time she’d accidentally damaged one she’d cried and sulked for an hour, and then later in the evening she’d gone out and given it a proper burial.)

On the downside, her new obsession cost her academically. The grades she’d just barely managed to get in the air took a sharp nosedive that ended in them buried two feet under the topsoil. Not that Rapunzel noticed. She didn’t even question it all that much when she was asked to stay behind one evening in the Transfiguration classroom, her mind blissfully absorbed by the fact that she’d finally succeeded in making one of the flowers change the shape of its petals and then changed it back-- a small, positive step in the direction of figuring out how to create such a flower for herself.

The door to the corridor quietly opened but Rapunzel heard it all the same. In walked an older Slytherin student with long, white-blonde hair and the palest set of eyes that could’ve easily been grey or green or white, depending on the lighting. Those eyes stared wide and unblinking as they took her in, and then seemed to stare through her. After a few moments of this, the older girl nodded once.

“Hello. My name is Aisling Kelly. I am here today to ask you some questions, if that is alright?”

Thoroughly curious now about the proceedings, Rapunzel agreed. Aisling spun one of the chairs around so that she sat facing Rapunzel’s desk and they began.

After waving her wand and cancelling all the noises filtering into the room, Aisling reached into a satchel laid at her feet and pulled out a clipboard and a thin book. She gave Rapunzel the book and asked her to read it quietly to herself. It was a short and, in Rapunzel’s opinion, a sweet story, about a naughty little rabbit causing mischief but with an ultimately happy ending. Rapunzel finished reading it in a few minutes, and happily answered all the questions Aisling gave her, all while sitting on her hands and making sure not to fidget or swing her feet at all, as instructed by the senior.

Every now and then, Aisling would scribble something on the clipboard. Rapunzel noticed she spoke in a very slow, measured way, but that didn’t really bother her so she mentally waved it off. Maybe that was just how Aisling liked to talk. Rapunzel wasn’t anyone to judge.

At the end of the questions, Aisling flicked her wand and the noises returned. The book went back in the satchel. In its place she pulled out a deck of cards and miniature board games, along with strange, brightly colored little toys.

“These are for you. You can use them if you like. Here, try one out.”

Rapunzel picked up the closest one. It had smooth nobs and groves in its surface, and it was made of different segments that clicked when she twisted them. Another one was also block shaped, made of different textures, parts that were fuzzy or sleek or rough like sandpaper. One of them was less of a toy and more of a cold, sparkly, jelly-like blob that stretched when she pulled it, while one more was a flat rectangle covered in buttons and dials.

They were fun to play with at first, but Rapunzel quickly grew bored of them. The toy she fiddled with eventually ended up forgotten in her lap as she got absorbed with the card game that Aisling explained to her. It was about patterns and remembering the order of things, which Rapunzel did, most of her cards ending up in their rightful columns by the time she was done. Then came another game about matching different groups based on differences or similarities, only this one had a time limit. It was a bit nerve-wrecking, but still exciting, and Rapunzel felt accomplished when she could eventually complete her tasks with time to spare.

“I think that’s enough sitting down time.” Aisling made several tick marks on her clipboard. Then she lifted up her entire satchel and plonked it on the desk. “What is your most favorite color?”

“Pink!”

“What is your second favorite color?”

“Umm… violet?”

“Your third?”

Her third favorite color? No one had ever asked her that before, and it made her pause. If the question had been asked by itself, she might’ve gone with yellow or green, but those didn’t match with pink and violet, so instead, “Lavender.”

Aisling reached into the satchel and pulled out five clear, glass-like spheres. The centers all held different combinations of pink, violet, and lavender, the swatches of colors swirling and sparkling around each other like suspended paint strokes. Each one was small enough to fit comfortably into Rapunzel’s palm, and when she picked one up it felt less like glass and more like a firm, rubber ball.

Aisling made Rapunzel hide the balls wherever she wanted to in the classroom. By the time Rapunzel came back, a space in the middle of the room had been cleared off. The two played some games that Rapunzel didn’t recognize, things like “hop-scotch” and “red light, green light”. Most of them had to do with her being able to follow directions or keep her balance.

She had far too much fun with them, and by the time Aisling called a halt Rapunzel was still bouncy and hyper and ready to run up and down all the stairs in the castle.

“Do you remember those balls you hid, Rapunzel?”

“Yes!” Rapunzel said, spinning in place.

“Can you show me where they are? And could you do it in the order you hid them, please?”

“Um…let’s see…under the front desk, in the right front corner, on the window sill, behind the cupboard, and and and…in that desk all the way over there in the last row!” Rapunzel pointed out the locations as she spoke, ending with a pirouette and a dramatically brandished arm. Then she collected all the balls and brought them to Aisling.

“Very good.” Aisling clapped her hands together. Her tone suddenly changed from its measured, slow pace to something far quicker and what Rapunzel later got to know was a much more pronounced version of an Irish accent. “Let us talk now. You have done very well, but there are some more things I need to know.”

The balls, the cards, and the toys returned to the satchel. Once again Aisling sat down in front of Rapunzel with her clipboard, and this time she read out some pointed, specific questions.

“Do you have any preferences for food? Anything you don’t like about some foods, like textures or smells?”

“Well, let’s see. I can’t eat any meats, they make me sick. Does that count? I like sweet food and I really like salty food. But other than that…I like most foods, I think.”

“What is your sleeping like? Is it hard for you to fall asleep? Is it difficult to wake up early?”

“Not at all! I rise and fall with the sun.”

“When there was no noise earlier, while you were reading, did you find it hard to concentrate?”

“Not…really? The story was nice, I guess. I liked it.”

“And when I asked you not to fidget, did that make you feel uncomfortable? Like you couldn’t focus? Did it feel bad or wrong?”

“No? It was weird, but I don’t think I minded it…um, I have a question.” Rapunzel raised her hand like she was in class. Aisling put down another tick mark and nodded. “What’s all this about? What are these questions for?”

Aisling studied her. After a long moment, she set the clipboard down.

“…Well, to be completely honest with you it’s about your recent performance in your classes.” Aisling leaned back, her arms crossing as her foot began to jiggle. “With how you’ve been doing so far, the professors have grown concerned. So they sent me to see if you have what is called a neuro-developmental disorder. Do you know what that is?”

Rapunzel puzzled over the new words. “…something to do with the brain?”

Aisling blinked. “…Yes. That is correct. It’s a kind of birth defect that rewires parts of your brain and makes them work differently compared to other people’s. And before you ask, it does not make you stupid. It affects the way you learn about things, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to learn them or that someone can’t teach you.”

Well. That…certainly explained something. Rapunzel didn’t know what that something was, but that would explain it.

“…so you’re saying that me not doing homework might be because my brain is wired differently?”

“It was a possibility to consider. And the professors wanted to be sure.” Aisling tapped her clipboard. “I am a student counsellor. I’m not an official authority, but I’ve had enough experience that I can get a rough idea of what’s going on with someone. Then I can talk to the Nurse, who will then advise parents and other adults on a further course of action. There are many different developmental disorders, but the ones I know best are ADHD—Attention Deficient Hyperactive Disorder—and Autism, so those are what I test for when I—”

“What do those mean?”

“—ah. Right, hm. Basically—and I mean very, very basically—ADHD means it’s hard to focus on things. There are too many thoughts in your head and they’re all going too fast. This can lead to inattention, forgetting instructions, not completing tasks, losing track of time, difficulty managing your emotions, and often feeling tired. Autism is when doing repetitive tasks that use the same parts of the brain is easier to do, like…like sorting or counting things, but tasks that need to use different parts of the brain at the same time are harder. It also means that some of your senses—like your sense of touch, taste, sound, and smell—can get too much sometimes and make you feel tired. These two are what can be called “brain cousins”, which is how I get to have both. Do you understand so far?”

“…yes? I…I think so?” This was all starting to get a little too much for Rapunzel. Whatever Aisling was talking about sounded very serious and medical, and it was pulling her thoughts into an overthinking spiral of all the possibilities that could branch out for her life starting from that very moment. There was a flurry of questions that had come charging into her head, but she’d have just as much luck sorting through them as she would finding a toothpick in a cyclone.

Many things that her mother had told her over the years drifted to the surface. Maybe…maybe there was a reason for those things? Was this the answer to the questions Rapunzel hadn’t known were there? Was there really something so different about her? That made her different from everyone else? Then again, it wasn’t as if she’d had many other children to compare herself to, not until very recently at least.

…Would she have to tell her mother?

Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Rapunzel clutched her arms, goose flesh prickling her skin.

“…uh…Miss Aisling?” She asked, around the rising lump in her throat.

“Yes?”

“This is…I’m sorry, but…this is starting to feel scary…” There was so much she didn’t know. Where did she start? How much would she have to work? How would this change her life? What would her mother think? What could she do?

Aisling tilted her head, apparently more curious by Rapunzel’s change in mood than anything else. “It’s not scary. Knowing something like this is what helps people find others like them who can help them.”

When Rapunzel didn’t answer, Aisling quietly frowned. Her frosty eyes did the seeing-through-her thing again and Rapunzel had to look away.

“…I have a question for you. Do you know why finding this out is important?” Rapunzel shrugged, staring at her lap. “Okay…think of it like this. What do you know about the magic that humans use?”

Oh. That was an easy question. Everyone knew that.

Without letting go of her arms, Rapunzel closed her eyes and recited from memory. “The magic granted to humans exists in the surrounds. It may be called upon, be it by the humans themselves or with the aid of magical items or an animal familiar, but it does not originate from within humans.”

“Correct. The magic for humans is free to use, but it is not yours and it doesn’t live inside of you. And how do you call upon this magic?”

“You call its attention by speaking to it, you think about what you want to happen, and then you use the right emotions to channel it.”

“That’s right—although, technically, you don’t have to use words for that. Speaking in a language that magic can understand is important, but as long as it’s a way to communicate intent, thoughts, or emotions, then it doesn’t just have to be through speech—but getting back to the point: you communicate, you visualize, and then you convey the right emotions to carry out what you want.”

“But if a person has a neuro-divergent brain, then this would be a different, wouldn’t it? A different way of communicating, a different way of visualizing, and, most importantly, a different way of accessing and processing emotions. Rapunzel—what happens when someone’s emotions are so big and painful that they lose control?”

Rapunzel shivered. “…bad things. They get hurt.”

“Yes. That person gets hurt. Other people get hurt. A lot of bad, painful things happen and it affects everyone. That’s why something like this is important. You can’t just make someone not use magic. That’s how you get Obscurials, and no one wants that. So instead, we try to bring understanding. To help someone understand what’s going on in their head, so that they know what to do and where to go for help, and especially so that they can learn magic in a way that really helps them. It’s not about saying that there’s something terribly wrong with someone or that their entire life has to change from now on. This is just another way to learn magic.”

To learn magic…wasn’t that what Rapunzel had been doing all month? And they taught that in her classes, too.

If it was just like another subject—or even, another learning tool—then that was something a little different than what her mind had been spiraling towards. A little less like the mountain of a concept she’d been crafting in her head—her personality, her thoughts, her memories, the very essence of who she was—and a little more like swimming through a lake rather than wading in sand to reach the other shore.

“So…this is just another way to learn?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Like…like learning in a different language, would be? Or writing in chalk on the wall instead of ink on paper? Or drinking soup with a straw instead of a ladle? Or-”

“Yes, yes. I think you’ve got it--well, I’m not sure I understood some of that last bit but it’s fine.” Aisling waved the words aside. “Yes, this is to help in learning. Because these things affect learning.”

“Alright, then.” Rapunzel sighed, the tension ebbing from her shoulders. Her hands flopped onto her lap and she slouched. “I guess I’ll have to do this. I hope it will help my memory.”

Aisling went very still. “…Your memory.”

“Well, yes. My mother tells me that my memory isn’t good. I’m always very scatterbrained and I keep misplacing things, so it makes sense.”

“…oh.”

“And there are other problems, too. I’m always daydreaming, I’m forgetful, I don’t always complete the things I’m supposed to do, I’m very cluttered and messy, I think I talk too much, and I’m probably too emotional. My mother says it’s difficult to be with me sometimes or talk to me, it gets very exhausting for her.”

“…is it just your mother who’s said this or have other people said these things, too?”

“Oh, well, this is my first time outside so I don’t really know. I don’t think anyone’s told me, yet.”

Aisling’s blank face somehow made itself even more blank. “…When you say this is your first time outside…?”

“It’s the first time I’ve been outside of my mother’s house. Or anywhere, really. I don’t think I’ve been on a lawn, or touched a tree before. I’ve never met this many people before. It’s always been me and my mother and no one else. It’s very nice here, with the library and the Houses and all.” Rapunzel smiled. A thought chimed in her head and she clapped her hands together. “Say, do you think that this neuro-diver—neuro-driver—”

“Neuro-divergence.”

“Yes, that. Do you think that relates to what House you go to? Is that why I went to Ravenclaw?” Rapunzel bounced in her seat.

“Honestly? Not much, I don’t think.” Aisling said, and Rapunzel’s happy bubble popped. “If that were true then I’m pretty sure my ADHD would’ve put me in a different House, something without the patience or focus for things.”

“…but instead you’re in Slytherin.”

“Yes. I am in the House that’s known for aiming high, expecting the best from myself, and having the unwavering determination to see my goals made real. Which goes to show that what I have is not my entire personality and it isn’t my choice. It’s just something I’ve learned to live with.”

Rapunzel deflated even further. “Oh…that sounds like a lot.”

Aisling shrugged. “Well, I’m not doing it alone. And I take potions that help. They were created by people like me so they work well, but there are some muggle solutions that’re good, too. It…makes things easier for me, you could say.”

“Okay…” Rapunzel eyed the clipboard. On it was her fate, whatever it may be. She mentally squared her shoulders and forged ahead. “…okay. So, what do you think? Do I have something, too?”

“Let’s see…” Aisling rooted through her satchel. She came back up holding a half-empty, green glass bottle. “One more test should do it.”

A tap of her wand to the lid and the bottle filled up. When she opened it, a tiny fizz of bubbles floated out.

Rapunzel leaned forward, her eyes going round. “What’s that?”

“Caffein and sucrose. Here, have a go.”

Not really understanding what that meant but eager and willing to find out, Rapunzel took the bottle and downed three huge swallows.

Several minutes later found her running on the ceiling.

“Well…” Aisling swirled the bottle, gazing up at her in dreamy contemplation, “…that answers that question.”

“I WANNA DO CARTWHEEEEEELS!”

And cartwheel she did, or tried to. Upside down was a confusing place to be, especially with her heart galloping into next year and the whole world dancing in technicolor. It was all very loud and exciting. Could colors be loud? Could they make sound? Or was that her head? She must have lost it. Lost it, lost it, lost it, lost it--Alice in Wonderland, that’s where she got it. Where did Alice go? It must’ve been fun. Did the bats have fun? She was a bat and she was flying and that’s where she was going. She should tell someone about it. Or write it down so she won’t forget. Where was she going with this? So much fun, so happy, so fun, how fun, how strange. Strange strange strange. Strange is a strange word, silly is silly. Silly and strange, that’s her. Silly little girl, where are you going…

…where are you going…

…where…?

A gentle pressure in her hair, stroking through it. Soft and repetitive.

Rapunzel drifted awake. She was curled up at a desk, her head in her arms. The stroking came from Aisling, along with a low, humming melody. Her eyes met Rapunzel’s when she craned her head up.

“Your name is Rapunzel. Today is Thursday evening. It is November. Your classes are over for today. You are safe.” She murmured.

Rapunzel slowly sat up. “…What happened?”

“You drank a caffeinated drink and got overwhelmed. Don’t worry, you were not out for a long time. But no more caffein for you.”

She did remember that. Her memory started to wander back to her, in bits and pieces. The quiet helped. She appreciated Aisling for sitting in the almost silence with her and letting her gather herself.

“…I think I’m okay now.” Rapunzel accepted the water Aisling offered her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She let the water sit in her mouth before she swallowed it. “…so. How did I do?”

Aisling flipped her clipboard over. “Let’s see.” With her pencil, she read from the top. “So far, you have: read less than 10 pages in a reasonable time without losing focus, were able to read those pages in complete silence without fidgeting, answered questions about said reading and showed no difficulty or irritation when not being allowed to move, nor have you displayed irritation when I spoke very slowly, and you have showed an aptitude for understanding metaphors and being able to relate dissimilar concepts together.”

“When the silence was lifted and you were allowed to move, you did not display an increase in focus. When you were given stim toys, you did not use them and yet you were able to listen to instructions and play the games correctly. You were able to delegate tasks and assign groups and sequences in the orders described, and then you were able to see the relation between different qualities and put them into categories without panic or difficulty, even when given multiple choices and a time limit.”

“When playing the standing games, you did not have trouble with coordination, you did not lose your balance, you heard the directions as I said them and followed them correctly. You quickly decided where you wanted to hide your objects and remembered where you hid them in the order you hid them even when you couldn’t see them.”

“When I asked you questions, you answered them promptly. You did not lose focus, you did not repeat yourself, you did not need repeating, and you did not interrupt me. You have no difficulty in sleep patterns, you have no noticeable sensory stimuli, and you do not gain a better ability to be calm or focused when given caffein. Overall, you have displayed good memory, good time management, good self-control, good instincts, and good insight.”

Aisling put the clipboard down and finally looked up. “My diagnosis: the chances of you having either ADHD or autism are little to none.”

“…oh.” Rapunzel quietly turned the words over. “…so if I don’t have that, then what does that make me?”

“…A very intelligent, very right-brained child living in a left-brained world that can’t keep up with you.”

Aisling stood up, slinging the satchel over her shoulder. She held her hand out to Rapunzel. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your dorm.”

They walked out of the classroom and back to the building with the dorms. The entire way there, Rapunzel didn’t talk, lost deep in thought. She barely noticed when Aisling asked Maria for the riddle’s answer and nudged her through the doors.

The Ravenclaw common room, as Rapunzel came to understand it, was a realm of constant activity during the day. The bookshelf found plenty of use, but many of the other things that went on in the large room spread itself throughout the place. Whether it was someone working alone or in small groups, there was always something going on, and most of it didn’t even look like it had to do with homework.

Rapunzel wandered inside, idly skirting around the different, noisy groups until she got to a couch somewhere in the middle of the room and flopped down next to her senior Eevie, who was curled up on the couch with a magazine. On the floor in front of her sat Gus, tinkering with what was less of a machine and more of a clunky looking bunch of parts made of bronze, all of them forming into a shape that was vaguely rectangular and reached about the height of his shoulder.

Eevie glanced over at her. “It’s about time you got back. Where were you?”

“Well, let’s see.” Rapunzel slumped backwards, letting her head hit the couch’s backrest. “I stayed back from class, met a senior, and got my brain tested for ADHD and autism.”

“Huh. So they came around to you this time, did they?” Gus said, head down and poking through his machine. It issued a sound like a gear protesting traffic. “Figured that would happen.”

Rapunzel stared at him, or rather, what she could see of him. “What? Why?”

“You’re the 5th one we’ve had now, that’s why. Happens every year.”

“What do you mean it happens—but she—” Rapunzel flailed, her arms waving towards the doors. “—that senior told me just now that it doesn’t have anything to do with House sorting!”

Eevie patted her arm in a way that was probably meant to be soothing, but Rapunzel was a little too preoccupied to be soothed. “That’s true, that’s true. But you need to also remember: Ravenclaws have a reputation.”

“What reputation?”

At that moment, Nancy popped up from behind the couch like a jack-in-the-box.

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” She asked, ignoring Rapunzel’s startled ‘eep!’ and scuttling away. “Ravenclaw is the running joke of Hogwarts.”

“But…but why?” Rapunzel’s back met Eevie, who didn’t budge. “What joke? Aren’t we—we’re the smart House, aren’t we? What’s the joke in that?”

“Oh, trust me, we are the smart House. But we—” Nancy climbed over the backrest and tumbled into an upside-down heap on the cushions. “—are also the House that gets the. Worst. Grades. In the entire school.” She beamed up at Rapunzel. “It’s absolutely brilliant.”

“…that makes no sense.”

“Sure it does.” Eevie gently pushed her off. Rapunzel had to brace her arms in front of her to not risk toppling onto Nancy. “It makes plenty of sense if you don’t make the assumption that being “intelligent” means being “good at school”.”

From the ground, Gus snorted. “It’s not like Western school even tests your “intelligence”. They test your memory and obedience.”

“Right! Exactly!” Nancy flipped herself right-side-up. “And aren’t there different kinds of intelligences? Like spatial intelligence, and interpersonal, and …and there’s more…uhh…”

“Spatial intelligence, interpersonal, intrapersonal, musical, linguistic, mathematical, kinesthetic, naturalistic, and existential. The theory of the nine types of intelligences, as proposed by an American psychologist in the 1980’s,” Eevie said, scooting closer. “Alright, now, tell me—how many of you are the “kid with all the questions” in your class?”

Nancy grinned a Cheshire Cat grin. “Me, obviously. And there’re about 3 more of us, too, I think. Betcha it’s gonna be twice that many before the end of the year.”

“Already giving the professors hell, I see.”

“But why?” Rapunzel blurted out, looking between the two.

Her roommate shrugged. “Well, they’re the ones putting us into a “learning environment” where they want us to learn things. And since they’re supposed to know the most about their subjects and we’re supposed to be interested in what they’re teaching then why shouldn’t we ask them more about it? Learning doesn’t have to mean learning only what everyone wants you to learn.”

“Typical Ravenclaw classroom: professor tries to teach, students ask questions, topic goes from what they’re supposed to be learning to a whole different topic, and then the rest of the class is spent with the professor trying to circle back to the syllabus and the students doing everything to run away from it.”

“Well, that’s the beauty of learning, see. It’s about the anarchy and free will.”

The problem with trying to keep up with the back-and-forth between the two was that none of it matched up with Rapunzel’s book knowledge of anything school related, let alone Hogwarts related. British schools were supposed to be orderly and serious. Ravenclaws were supposed to be quiet and prompt and studious, who did all their learning from their books, always completed everything on time, and were overall model students. The exact opposite of Rapunzel.

Funny how none of the books mentioned that having a love of learning meant learning in all of its forms. Funny, also, that of all the things she’d learnt before joining Hogwarts, it was often her talking with other people that really sent her world spinning on its head. She wondered how many rotations it had made by then.

Rapunzel shook herself. It would not help her any to go into a thinking spiral right then. “…When—when did all this happen?”

“First week of school, I think. I remember the seniors spent a weekend giving us pointers, isn’t that right?” Nancy asked, and Gus gave a wistful sigh.

“Ah, yes, the first year initiation ceremony. Always a delight.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. By then, he’d poked his head out and his machine had started hissing small puffs of purple smoke.

“You’re…that thing, it’s…” Rapunzel pointed.

“What? This?” He gave the roof a hearty thump. It made a burping noise. “Don’t worry, it’s supposed to do that.”

Nancy waved a wiff of smoke away. “So, yeah. All of this has been going on for, like, half our classes so far. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

"Um." Based on the flowery handwriting that made up Rapunzel’s disorganized notes, the half-finished homeworks she kept almost getting caught trying to complete in class, and the butterfly-cat she'd spent all of 3rd period drawing on her left knee, the answer was no.

“Anyways,” Eevie wrapped an arm around Rapunzel’s shoulders, “back to the point. Seeing how Ravenclaw views learning and how the education system is the way it is, Ravenclaws are, on principle, absolutely rubbish at school. The psych evaluation you had happens for students in the rest of the Houses too and you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Rapunzel sighed, leaning into the support. “Well, then, what do I do?”

“Hm, let’s see…” Nancy looked around. “…How about…paint with me and Becky Sucrose? She’s over there by the window.”

At a nearby window sat Rebecca Sweet, painting on a corner of a large piece of canvas. Evening light glinted off of the wet paint and strands of her hair, and from that angle it looked as if she was quietly singing. Curled up in the shade was Meena, completely ignoring everyone and entirely absorbed in a book.

The sight made Rapunzel smile. “I’d love to.”

She let Nancy pull her up, and together they went off to get lost in painting daydreams and make-believe.

Maybe she had found a place where she belonged. Maybe where she was was exactly where she needed to be.

.°○.♡.○°.

A/N:

- Translations:

Spanish: “How old are you?”

“I’m eleven years old, sir.”

Latin: “Do you like cookies?”

“I do.”

Japanese: “What color are your eyes?”

“Green!”

I cheated a bit in this by using languages I’ve already learnt some of. Alas, I'm pretty rusty on all of them, so short sentences are all I've got for now. I should do something about that—which I will! Eventually. Most likely when I get to writing draft 1 of Book 2, since I’ll need it for designing new spells.

- If anyone's curious, the flower meaning of buttercups is: charm, humility, childishness, joy, new beginnings, and general happiness.

- I am A Lot% sure that the "talk" Jack and Rapunzel had wasn't culturally correct for England, and would if I could have had a beta reader who's experienced with it and could've offered me their insight, but alas, I don't. And really, it was just too funny and cute for me to not include it.

- Another song I thought of for Ravenclaw: My Way by One Bit, Noah Cyrus

You don’t know how much vindicative joy it’s giving me to finally write the Ravenclaw House I want to see in the world.

- As I hope you can see, I’ve looked a lot into writing ADHD and Autism. The main references I’ve used for writing the above scene are this video by nigahiga and this post by @/adhd-alien on tumblr, but I also looked through several other blogs, articles, and websites as well. I’ve even gotten some pdf books which talk about the neurology of ADHD, though I haven’t gotten around to reading them yet so I can’t tell you what they’re like.

- Out of all the sources I’d searched for autism, it was actually videos by this autistic woman on Tiktok, professionally diagnosed and everything, who gave me some really good insight. For example, there’s the more well-known symptom of autism where the person doesn’t make eye-contact with people, right? But for some autistic people it can be the opposite case – wherein it’s like: If I Am Not Making Unblinking Eye Contact While You Are Speaking Then I Will Not Process A Word Of What You Say – and she used herself as an example for that.

There’s also another video of hers where she explained something she learnt about the neurology of an autistic brain. Bearing in mind that as of now she’s the only person I’ve heard it from and I’ll likely have to find more sources to cross check the validity of it, the bottom line is this: normally when the brain is growing, there are parts of it that the growing child no longer needs and so those parts are discarded. But with an autistic brain, that doesn’t happen. Those parts stay, and they’re dispersed in between the different, growing parts of the brain so that they form blockages for neuro signals. This means that the places that neurons can easily transmit signals are places that’re located close together, and it also gives insight as to why doing activities that require jumping from one region of the brain to a completely different region can be really troublesome, and also why the way the brain sometimes processes external stimuli is so out of whack, i.e., having extreme reactions to certain sounds, sights, textures, and sensations to the point of physical pain.

I’d love to give out her username so you all can check her out yourself, but alas I didn’t save it before Tiktok was banned in my country and hence I can’t credit her.

Edit: A fandom friend of mine has since told me that her name is Paige and you can find her on youtube!

- The counselling scene is one that I’d had planned out for months now, around when I’d first started writing this story. It is specifically because, along with the way I’ve set up the magic system and my curiosity on exploring that aspect of it, I’d also wanted to very clearly emphasize that what Rapunzel has is not ADHD or Autism or other such related neuro-developmental disorder, but what is instead complex PTSD, or C-PTSD.

You can see an inkling of it here. I know I’ve written Rapunzel as being very bubbly and overall cheerful in this story, but underneath the surface there are a lot of warped, toxic perceptions that she has about herself and the way she thinks other people are supposed to treat her. This is due to a very specific kind of abuse called Narcissistic Abuse – not “narcissistic disorder abuse”. Here, I am using that word as an adjective and not a noun, and yes that distinction is important, since a person can be narcissistic without having a narcissistic disorder. The kind of abuse that arises from a narcissistic adult leads to some very specific experiences and traumas in a child.

It’s also less that Aisling figured all this out and is absolutely sure that Rapunzel doesn’t have something like what she has but more her going: “Holy shtick this kid has a Messed Up childhood and I am really not equipped to give a diagnosis or make assumptions about anything until a professional looks into whatever That is jFc”

- Before you ask, yes, I know, I know that these two things are not mutually exclusive. I understand that. Rapunzel could just as easily have both C-PTSD and a neurological disorder. And by now I’ve researched enough that I feel moderately confident in writing her with one or the other without feeling like I’ve made her into an awful stereotype or caricature.

But this is an issue that’s really close to my heart. Because what Rapunzel has growing up with is similar to what I’ve gone through (not to drag you too deep into it, but let’s just say that there’s a reason Caitlin Reilly’s WASP Mom impersonation activates my fight or flight instincts). Much of the driving force behind me writing more than just this book and making it into a series is because I really want to write Book 2, where we get into Rapunzel’s POV and I get to dig deep into Rapunzel’s trauma.

So much of the fanfictions I’ve seen out there that try to describe trauma either show the very blunt and obvious traumas – like extreme abuse and near-death violence – or really only make it clear that the author has absolutely no idea what they’re talking about. Just once I want to read a story where the author knows that more than one kind of abuse exists and actually understands the experiences they’re writing about, so I might as well try, right? More than anything, I want to make Rapunzel's story into a teaching tool, so that the writers who’re reading it might finally get some quality insight and the people who’ve experienced something like this might find understanding about what they’ve gone through and places they can go to for guidance and help.

As for me making that specific distinction between ADHD and trauma – I remember back when my family lived in America, almost every school I transferred to they’d take me in for counselling and the counsellor would diagnose me with ADHD. It happened every time. I’m old enough by now to believe that a part of the reason could’ve also been because “marginalized child isn’t doing what her white teachers want her to do”. But as I wrote this story and I got to remembering those old memories, I looked more into whether there’s any actual correlation between these two things.

Turns out, this isn’t an uncommon conclusion. I got references from here and here as well. It’s often the case that a kid with PTSD might be misdiagnosed with ADHD, or an ADHD child might be told it’s PTSD – or chances are high that a kid can very well have both. But when I first read that pdf and saw the chart in it, I felt so sad and angry. I felt, and still feel, angry for the girl whose teachers saw her inattention, failing grades, and inability to appropriately interact with her peers and dropped her into the ADHD box and basically forgot her there instead of ever once considering abuse. I grieve for the child who was abandoned by all the adults in her life who were supposed to protect her.

So far in my life, the only adult I know who has ever made any real, lasting effort towards understanding what’s happened to me and healing me is me, and that’s mostly because I finally found therapy books written by therapists who’ve gone through and recovered from the same thing as me. I’m on the mend, but until I get a paying job and can go see a therapist myself it’s just me, my therapy books, and this series where I vicariously relive and find catharsis from my trauma through Rapunzel.

- I’m pretty sure that the counselling scene I wrote up here isn’t entirely accurate or traditional to what most professional counsellors would use. But then again, the school counsellors I had to see as a kid sure did a fantastic job diagnosing me, didn’t they? :)

#rotbtd #rise of the brave tangled dragons #the big four #tangled #rise of the guardians #hogwarts au #big hero 6 #bh6 #the incredibles #the secret of kells #the croods

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