#i hesitate to use the word ‘famous’ to describe a tumblr blog

[tysonfurybattlepass]

it’s still a surprise when someone notorious reblogs my post. hey. youre not supposed to know about me

[yesimwriting]

Falling Angels: chapter two

A/n took me longer to get around to writing part 2 than i thought!! i didn’t know there was an audience for this idea but im glad you guys liked it!!

Im adding a country to the grishaverse to make my story work,, def not a big deal i just needed a country in which i could control the history of without worrying about conflicting with cannon lol 

Link to part one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yesimwriting/652318577650696192 (lmk if this works ive never linked something to a tumblr post lol)

Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story

Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life. 

Pairng: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! Psychic! Reader 

--

My father seemed to love me more after two glasses of something amber. It was after these two glasses that he would tell me realities his inebriated self believed I needed to internalize. He’d pat my head affectionately and smiled at me as he told me that the world was a bad place. Most of his lessons are lost in my mind, but the one I remember most clearly is that there’s no such thing as a kept secret. There’s always a leak or a flaw or a factor you could not account for. He told me that if I wanted to keep a secret, I would have to decide what I was willing to risk for it. 

I know from Seria’s reaction to his presence that listening to Kaz is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take for my secret. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re mistaken.” It doesn’t really matter that he believes me. I have the paperwork I need to disprove him. “I have to get to my tent.” 

“The princess gets her own tent?” His words are saturated by mock casualness but I can feel his pride on how he delivered that line. 

My body is still tense from balancing over flames and his confidence only adds to my desire to unravel. I can’t get angry here. Not at him. Not with the way he grips that cane of his. “I don’t understand what--” 

“You may be able to play pretend here where no one wants to look twice at you, but I know what you are.” His stiffness leaves my skin prickling. “I know who you are.” 

I swallow back my panic. “Then who am I?” 

“You’re that king’s bastard--the one with a high bounty on her head.” Don’t back down. Even the smallest crack will confirm his story. “As long as she’s returned alive.” 

Thoughts of what my father would do to me if ever given the chance strike me with more anxiety than his presence does. “I’ve heard of the girl you’re talking about,” I admit, the lie leaving me as easily as the air leaves my lungs when I exhale. “But I’m not her.” 

“You’re not from Ketterdam, if you were you would have known who I was after you friend referred to me as Dirtyhands.” I have no defense, but I never claimed to be from Ketterdam. “You make your business claiming to be a psychic.” I am a psychic, but now is not the time to make that argument. “Elkosa is a relatively small and self efficient port kingdom, the island is nothing more than a jagged coastline barely larger than Ketterdam, but I have connections in all places.” He knows someone from Elkosa? I have to fight the instinct to move all of my weight on the balls of my feet, prepared to run. “A captain of the royal fleet told me the story of the night the King’s bastard ran into the meeting room the night before ten ships were meant to sail to Ravka.” 

He studies my reaction as I struggle to keep my expression blank. “None of that seems connected.” 

“Patience is a virtue most Saints are familiar with.” I roll my eyes. “The bastard couldn’t have been more than nine at the time, but the guards did not want to let her in. The King told them to let her interrupt. The sailor noted this because he had never made an exception to his meeting before. The girl described a nightmare to her father, a nightmare of a storm and ten dead birds. The king did not comfort her, she finished her story by saying that he asked to know about all of her dreams. She went back upstairs and the King continued the meeting as normal but the next day the King cancelled the trip.”

I remember that night as the night I realized that if I’m not careful, I’ll feel what I see in my visions. It felt like I was drowning. I felt the death of each of those men and instead of comforting me, my father nodded once like I had offered him advice and sent me back to my room. “And?” My defense is weak, my mind too lost in the memories of drowning. “Many smaller countries are superstitious.” 

“The next day the worst storm to have impacted that ocean occurred. For four nights and three days the storm continued.” 

I press my nails into my palms. “You don’t believe that I am precognitive, so that sailor’s unverified story has nothing to do with me.” 

“A princess that can see the future disappears at the same time a failing circus hires a girl who has no business in this city who claims to be able to see the future.” He adjusts his stance, taking pressure off the cane as if he’s preparing to need to use it for something else. “I am not fool enough to believe in coincidence.” 

“And I am not fool enough to crack beneath the vague threats of a man. In my experience, men always threaten with a blade when really all they’re in possession of is a butter knife. Try to drag me from here kicking and screaming, find a way to incapacitate me and put me on a ship to Elkosa, but when the King sees that you brought him a stranger he will have your head.” 

He blinks, expression hard as stone. I tense, preparing for a physical blow. “I didn’t expect you to be a half-decent liar, but I should have.” I bite my tongue to avoid resorting to something I can’t take back. Like begging. “Even if it’s in only half your blood.” 

“I am not her.” My stubbornness burns more than the need to survive. I inhale, hoping to shake the grasp of the sensation but it only worsens. The pinch of dread in my chest is heavy and familiar. A vision. 

No. Not now--not in front of him. I push against it even though I know that only makes it worse. Not now. Not now. I should be grounding myself but all I can think about is how stupid I am and how bad this situation is.

--

“I’m not an idiot, I know to be quiet. I see myself crouched somewhere dark. 

“Being defensive doesn’t make you any more intelligent.” It takes me a minute to recognize Kaz in the darkness. 

We’re somewhere small, our backs against the same wall but our shoulders do not touch. This vision is enshrouded by the feel of panic. 

This other me grimaces, but her eyes lack anger, “Remind me why I agreed to help you again?” 

“You never told me why,” he admits, “you can change your mind on participating and I can change my mind on whether or not you're more useful than your father’s money.”

Something loud crashes from behind the door we’re both staring at. “You’ll have no use for me or my father’s money if we die here.” I squeeze my hands together. 

He hesitates, “My ghost will.” 

The future-me almost smiles. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see ghost futures.” I hesitate, something strange behind my eyes. “I wonder if that can exist, if there’s a future beyond endings.” 

Future-Kaz is silent for a long second. “There should be,” he says, “for someone like you, at least.” 

I watch the way I take in his words. “You’d be there, too,” my voice is low, “your ghost at least.” I turn my head, staring at the door instead of him, “If you weren’t, I’d miss the brooding.” 

--

The vision leaves me with sweaty palms and swirling thoughts. All of my visions do that. Not all of them make me feel so confused. Apparently, he needs help and I agree to do so. At one point we’ll be pushed into a life or death situation and I won’t loathe him. 

I blink twice, forcing myself to hold onto the reality in front of me. I don’t have to agree--the future isn’t set in stone. For all I know tomorrow morning I’ll have a vision in which he kills me. 

“Are you ignoring me?” 

Shaking my head, I turn to face him. “You need help.” I don’t wait for his reaction. “You’re not here to return someone to the King of Elkosa, you’re here because you need someone that can see the future.” 

“I--” 

“It’s not that you won’t take me to Elkosa, it’s that you’d rather use my abilities for something.”

I’m confusing him again, but that’s okay. I’d rather deal with him confused than angry. “I need to know how a certain business deal of mine is going to be worth what it costs.”

He’s spent the entire time claiming he doesn’t believe in my power. Was that some kind of tactic? In the vision I saw, despite the panic surrounding the situation I didn’t feel panicked around him. The probability of that future occurring is probably low. I’ve been wrong before, the future changes too much for me to know everything. 

“That’s not how readings work,” I admit, “I don’t have that much control on them. Most of them come to me randomly. The events I see always involve me or someone I care about to a certain capacity. I can give someone a general glimpse into their future but I can’t promise I’ll see what they want. Sometimes I can see the general vision by just focusing on their energy but usually I need some physical contact for it to work.” That seems like a fair explanation. “Oh--and not all of my predictions come true, most are blurry, few are solid--the future is always moving.” 

Wait...the vision I saw where I was with Kaz wasn’t blurry. Those can be wrong, but it’s much rarer. Do I really agree to this? 

“Then maybe I should make it involve you.” His aggression has me forcing myself to stand my ground. He can threaten me all he wants but that won’t change things. “Or take the money your father would give me and cut my losses.” 

Every time I’ve purposefully destroyed a solid vision, something bad has happened. I’m genuinely considering it. “What do you need a psychic for, anyways?” 

“To get through the Fold.” 

Despite everything, I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone get through the Fold, literally or in my visions.” 

He’s unphased by my doubt. “It’s happened.” 

I really don’t want to help him. “Well then good luck, I’m happy to part ways here.” 

I manage one step forward before he moves his cane in front of my path. I’m getting tired of this. “You’re assisting me one way or the other, whether that aid will be financial or through your services is up to you.” 

Anger pinches in my stomach the way it often does when I’m told what to do. The one thing centering me is the vision still reflecting in my thoughts. There’s no denying it--I had felt comfortable with him. There is a future in which I feel comfortable with him and I’m not sure I’ll be able to avoid it. 

“I won’t get in trouble for you,” I tell him, “The Ringmaster holds onto those indentured to him, especially the commodities that bring him profit.” 

There’s something stiff about his silence. I wonder if he’s always like this, pushing the weight of his presence onto those around him without saying a word. “When I have a goal, it is achieved. I’ll speak to him.” 

I cannot imagine a conversation I want to be involved in less. The Ringmaster and this man that Seria had labeled ‘Dirtyhands’. “I just had a vision--I saw your entire conversation and it ends with you missing an arm.” His stoic expression does not shift. “Okay, I’m aware that it wasn’t the funniest joke, but throw me a bone--you threatened to kidnap me and sell me to my father in order to extort me and I’ve been nothing but polite to you.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, something in his expression changing in a way I can’t read. “All you’ve done is lie since the moment you started to speak to me.” 

The optimist in me would like to think that his annoyance counts for banter. I shrug, feeling a little lighter than I did a second ago. I’m certainly not comfortable but I’m starting to see how to put up with the tension without letting it strain me. “Well, polite for my standards.” 

I let him brood. “You must have done well as a royal.” 

My past cuts through the peace I managed to grab onto. It’s not his fault, he has no way of knowing what the castle was like for me. I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m going to say. “I had my moments,” I finally settle on, hoping the echo of pain isn’t visible behind my eyes. 

I guess it doesn’t matter if he sees me bleed. He’s heartless, and I hate sympathy. 

“Y/n,” Seria’s voice is genuine anger, “You’ve turned into an idiot--first the tightrope walk and now entertaining whatever deal he’s trying to coax from you.” I love Seria, she’s the reason I didn’t die in the street when I first arrived in Ketterdam, but she sees me as a mindless child. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you--it’s a lie.” 

“He hasn’t promised me anything.” I need to calm her down. Once she’s calm, everything will be normal again. “And he knows.” I don’t have to turn to feel the way Seria gapes at me. “He knows who I am, so I have to do what he wants.” 

“You never have to do anything a man is forcing onto you, y/n. We’ll find a way--” 

“Seria, it’s fine,” I reach to touch her arm, “I’ll be fine, you can’t protect me from everything and you don’t have to.” 

Kaz throws a pointed glare at the man who was with him earlier. When did the stranger get here? “Boss, she’s faster than she looked, but I have what we need to get the girl--” 

“You’re late,” Kaz sighs, bored, “she’s agreed.” 

Wait--what was he going to do if I didn’t agree? “Out of curiosity, what are you talking about?” The man blinks twice, squeezing a rag between his ring-clad fingers. “You were going to use chloroform to kidnap me, weren’t you?” 

For some reason I don’t understand, the stranger gives me a look that’s a cross between sheepish and charming. “Nothing personal.” 

“Or original.” 

Seria pinches my arm. “Y/n,” she scolds, “your sense of humor is going to kill me one of these days.” 

I cringe, pulling my arm away. “When I met you, you were pickpocketing in the pleasure district, please remember that.” 

She rolls her eyes. “An attitude like that is going to leave you without a place to sleep at night.” 

I take her comment for the empty threat it is. Every other day she’s threatening to kick me out of her private trailer so that I’m forced to fight for cots or speak to the Ringmaster about my lodging arrangements. He’d give me what I want, but speaking to him feels so slimy I’d sleep in the woods before trying it. 

“Kaz.” I turn my head in time to see the girl that gave me the advice about the tightrope walker. “We need to go, he’s coming soon--you’ll do better to speak to him in the morning after she’s gone, that way he has nothing to hold over your head.” 

“Once I’m gone?” The girl had called me a Saint. I can appeal to her. “I’m not--I’m not going anywhere, I said I’d help.” 

Her eyes widen, sympathy reflected clearly in her dark irises. “There was never a version of this in which you ended up staying here.” I hear a hint of apology in her voice. “You won’t believe me, but I promise this will be better for you.” All of her pity is gone with those, replaced by something hard.

Seria responds for me, “I think you should go.” 

“What?” 

She almost smiles, but her eyes are painfully sad. “I never wanted you to be here forever. I don’t trust these people, but I trust their ability to get you out of here, even if only for a little while. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll miss the worst of it if you go now.” 

What she alludes to is a blade in my heart. “You want me to leave you here to deal with it?” 

“Y/n, I’ve been hurt here more times than I can count--”

“No, I won’t leave y--” 

Seria squeezes my shoulder, “It’s not forever.” When she wants something, it’s almost impossible to get around it. “Besides, if I need you, you’ll see it.” 

My world feels to have lost the vibrance of color. I’ve left so much, but I let myself believe I wouldn’t leave her. I pull her into the hug. “The moment I see a vision of you in any type of danger, I’m coming back.” I hug her even tighter when she tries to pull away so that I can whisper something in her ear, “I’ll use this opportunity to leave the Ringmaster and then I’ll get you out, and together we’ll leave Ketterdam. We’ll find your child, like you always wanted to and they’ll know that they're lucky because they’re the only kid in the world to have you as a mother.” 

She squeezes me so tightly I find it hard to take full breaths. “Two,” Seria whispers, “I have two children.”

My eyes burn as her words find their way into my heart. “I love you, Seria.” 

“I love you too, my star,” she pulls away enough so that I can look her in the eye, “you don’t like being called a Saint, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of the title.” 

Tears prick my eyes as she releases me. “I’ll find you.” 

“He’ll be coming soon,” the girl warns, “He spoke to an advisor about wanting to find you after the show.” 

No doubt to praise the fire stunt he forced onto me. Bastard. I nod once but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to leave Seria until the girl places a hand on my elbow. 

--

Falling Angels Taglist: @glowstick-lesbian @cashlum @whatiswrongwithpeople @pass-me-jeez-it @thecraziestcrayon

[boyslaughplus]

2nd Brassica Bonus Short Story

We spontaneously wanted to do something nice for April Fools this year but ended up posting this story days later on our Blog. Now we resurrect our Tumblr by posting this here as well. Have fun reading this cute story from when Hans hasn’t turned into a flirt yet, and was still a teen! (oﾐﾟﾛﾟﾐ)o

On the first day of the fourth month, almost a full decade ago, the rulers of all kingdoms allied with Auxtome convened to discuss and negotiate matters that were of little interest to a certain adolescent princess named Avril. Matters like infrastructure, trade agreements, and other things that made her yawn just at the thought.

Within Poisson, her country, the princess was quite famous for being energetic and mischievous, rather fitting with the deep red color of her hair. But no one minded because she was also aware of her duties and never failed to fulfill them. Still, full days of economic discussions were just about last on the list of things Avril wanted to spend her time with.

Thankfully, her parents were the ones attending the conference. She only accompanied them to make her debut among all the young royals that would be at the palace. And while that too had its downsides as far as she was concerned, the prospect of spending two weeks in Auxtome and meeting new, possibly interesting people still left her excited.

Their carriage was passing through Auxtome’s capital, its streets adorned with flowers and decorated festively to welcome the esteemed guests from all around the continent. Even as her mother spoke to her, Avril could hardly tear her eyes from the window.

“The conference begins right after we arrive, but the crown prince of this land, Prince Hans, has volunteered to give all young royals a tour of the palace. He is about your age. I trust you will dress… appropriately for the occasion?”

Avril had no need to look at her mother to recognize the look she was giving her, and the meaning it was meant to convey.

“Of course mother, I have brought garments suitable for every occasion,” she replied.

“Good,” her mother acknowledged, pleased, and turned back to her husband now that they were nearing the palace grounds.

Avril smiled to herself. An entire day without her parents or retainers promised to be delightful. And she had a plan to make the most of all the possibilities that were already racing through her mind.

Atop the foyer stairs of his family’s palace, Prince Hans was waiting for his guests long before the first one arrived; his posture sublime and his smile well practiced. At only 13 summers he was quite young to be given such an important duty, but he had long established himself as reliable and well-versed in social affairs. Next to him stood his half-brother, Lorens, a few years younger and much more prone to show it. Hans didn’t dislike him per se, but it was always exhausting to have him near during official business. Or when he wanted some quiet. To his relief, he would only stay through the greeting.

All around the room were attendants to aid the guests and lead them to their quarters before escorting the princes and princesses back once the tour was set to begin.

“Could you quit your fidgeting?” Hans asked his half-brother as he glanced to the side. “You’re representing our family today, just what would our guests think of us if they saw you right now?”

Lorens sighed deeply and tried his best to copy Hans’ demeanor.

“But no one’s here yet. It’s tiring to stand still for so long.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Hans replied sternly. “You’ll learn to endure before long.”

Before long unfortunately only described how long it took for Lorens to forget his discipline again. But Hans was used to this.

As the first guests arrived, Hans stepped down the stairs for the greeting and raised his charm to the max. Lorens remained in his shadow, politely participating in the greeting but drawing little attention. Although he didn’t show it, Hans felt quite relieved.

The guests were so plentiful that even the astute crown prince had trouble remembering all their faces and names immediately, but he knew there would be a second greeting once all the young royals assembled for the palace tour, and the coming days left enough time to memorize all the names of their parents.

And thus, the time for the tour quickly arrived!

About a dozen young royals now gathered in the foyer, from nearly just as many kingdoms; one of them from the kingdom of Radix and another, the youngest prince hailing from Theotherkingdom. Although Hans couldn’t seem to remember his name, or face, no matter how hard he tried.

The last royal to introduce themselves was one with hair as deeply red as cherries, who was dressed in clothes so dashing that even Hans felt a hint of jealousy.

“I am Avril of Poisson. Pleased to make your acquaintance, everyone.”

“Likewise, Prince Avril. Thank you for joining us today,” Hans smoothly replied and proceeded to announce the schedule for the day.

Unbeknownst to him, Avril smiled to herself that her deception was a success. Everyone seemed to share Prince Hans’ impression that she was a prince—a boy—and while she felt no desire to be one for more than a few hours, Avril was quite thrilled to spend the day as the other princes’ equal and not a potential future bride.

With the introduction out of the way, Hans lost no time to begin the tour, leading the group of royals past every notable part of the palace. As such, it went on for quite a while!

As he talked about his home and its long history, Hans couldn’t hide his pride. He made sure not to ramble, still there was no shortage of anecdotes coming from the young prince. Most of his guests seemed quite captivated. But Avril felt her boredom reach critical mass.

“And here we have our palace’s library,” Hans continued, elegantly gesturing towards it, ever unaware of the princess’s disinterest. “No other library in the entire kingdom, maybe even the world, has such an extensive collection of magic tomes. Some of them are so rare and powerful, that they are locked within a separate chamber.”

For the first time since the tour started, Avril’s ears perked up.

“Not even I am allowed to enter it, but rest assured, the rest of the library is still as exciting as it is stunning.”

The tour continued and Hans led everyone past the royal family’s private chambers, through luxuriant halls filled to the brim with paintings of all the noble figures of Auxtome’s history, and many more attractions until they reached one of the larger banquet halls the palace housed. Prince Hans turned to his guests, an unwavering smile still on his face.

“Now then, I’m sure all this walking on top of your travels has left you with quite an appetite. Our chefs have prepared all of our kingdom’s finest specialties, so eat to your heart’s content. If there is anything you need, our attendants will be right at your service.”

As he wrapped up the tour and exchanged some more pleasantries with a few of the other royals, Hans looked around to make sure that everything was in order.

The first thing he noticed was the absence of his half-brother. He had been sure Lorens would have joined again by the time food was served. Not least of all because Lorens’ mother probably urged him to build connections with the other kingdoms’ royals.

And then Hans realized that a certain red-haired prince was missing as well.

Politely excusing himself from the conversation, Hans beckoned his personal attendant over.

“Say, have you seen Prince Avril?” he whispered so no one else would hear.

“No, my lord. By the time we reached the banquet hall, he was already gone.”

Just for a second, Hans furrowed his brow.

“And you thought not to inform me of this? We have to find him immediately!”

The attendant apologetically bowed, but Hans was already rushing towards the door, slowing down halfway as he realized the others might notice something was wrong if he didn’t.

His pace quickened again as soon as he was out of sight. As he backtracked the path they took to the hall, Hans looked around, growing tenser by the second. If something had happened, it would be his responsibility.

A commotion near the library finally drew his attention. Most of all, a voice he knew well.

“Lorens? What is going on here?” Hans asked as he saw the younger prince standing inside the library, shaking, surrounded by a group of tense looking guards.

Lorens’ face lit up as he saw the other.

“Brother! You need to stop them!”

Hans shot a questioning glance towards the guard closest to him who gulped, before stumbling over his words.

“M-my Lord, it is not how it looks. We heard a sound within the forbidden section of the library and came looking for an intruder, only to find that one tome is missing.”

He hesitated, glancing over to his fellow guards who were suddenly immensely captivated by the floor.

“A-and Prince Lorens right next to where it should have been.”

Hans sighed and slowly turned to his brother, raising a brow.

“I didn’t take it!” Lorens protested, immediately understanding the unspoken question.

“You heard him,” Hans said to the guard, primarily out of a sense of obligation. “You don’t intend to question the word of a prince, do you?”

“O-of course not!” replied the guard. “We never suspected Prince Lorens, but we still have to inform the king and queen of the missing book and his trespassing.”

Now it dawned on Hans what his half-brother wanted him to stop. Once more he turned to Lorens, who he’d never seen with such a pleading look on his face. For a moment Hans thought about what he would say. Then he turned back to the guard.

“I shall give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you mean to fulfill your duty, but all such a report will accomplish is that it draws attention to the fact that someone could steal one of our most prized artifacts from right under your noses. You’ll be lucky if you just lose your jobs.”

The guards flinched.

“But what should we do then, my Lord? Hiding the theft would surely be worse!”

“Isn’t that obvious? Search for the thieves! Who knows how far they might have gotten during all this time you wasted here.”

“Y-yes! Of course!”

The guards frantically spread out to search the area, leaving the princes on their own.

“Thank you, brother! I knew you would help me,” Lorens chirped.

“It was nothing. Had you been more confident, you could have solved this on your own; don’t forget that you are a prince!”

The younger prince’s enthusiasm dampened a little, but he nodded in understanding.

“So what were you doing in the forbidden part of the library?” Hans asked, his suspicion that Lorens might have taken the book not entirely quelled.

“I just… I wanted to learn. I’m not making any progress with my magic training.” Lorens quietly replied, a pout forming on his face. “The books there are about powerful magic, right?”

“They are. But that’s hardly where you should look for knowledge if you are struggling with the basics. Now let’s get you out of here.”

Hans didn’t wait for a reply before turning around and walking out of the library.

Lorens only hesitated for a moment, still he had to run to catch up with his brother.

“Wait, where are we going?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“Your room. If there’s a criminal on the loose, you shouldn’t stroll around the castle on your own.”

The young prince stopped in his tracks, visibly displeased at the notion of having to remain in his room for a yet undetermined amount of time, but he continued to follow without complaints.

Once his half-brother was within his chambers, Hans turned back to the door only to be held up by a hesitant voice.

“What about you?” Lorens asked.

“I’ll have to take care of our guests until the situation is resolved.”

“That’s not fair, I want to help, too!” the younger prince protested.

Hans looked at the other, giving him as much of a sympathetic smile as he could muster.

“You’ll help me by staying out of trouble.”

“Okay…” Lorens relented.

Back in the hallway, Hans gestured the guards to lock the door to Lorens’ private quarters.

While it hadn’t been a lie that Hans worried about his half-brother being on his own while an intruder roamed the palace, it was only true in the case that Lorens himself wasn’t the thief. Locking him in for the time being was sure to avoid further problems in either case. Hans was quite pleased with his pragmatic decision. But the issue of the vanished Prince Avril still weighed on his mind, so Hans hurried back to the banquet hall. In the best case, Avril had joined the others by now. And even if not, Hans couldn’t stay away for too long or it would reflect badly on his hospitality.

Prince Hans did his best to appear more composed than he felt as he strode through the doors into the hall. The other royals seemed to enjoy the buffet, and there were no signs that anyone had caught wind of the commotion at the library.

Stifling a sigh of relief, Hans joined in with the crowd just to be seen, hoping his brief absence hadn’t been noticed by too many. He had barely finished a first round through the room when something red caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Avril was back.

Making sure to appear unfazed, Hans approached her.

“Prince Avril, we haven’t had the pleasure of conversing since our greeting. I hope the tour was to your liking?”

Avril smiled at him, a hint of mischief in her eyes, but Hans didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh yes, it was quite long, but your palace is impressive indeed.”

Hans relaxed at her words, sure she would have said something if her brief absence would have been due to unpleasant reasons.

“The library especially,” Avril added, looking into Hans’ eyes just a little too deeply, a knowing grin on her face.

Confusion overcame the prince. Was Avril insinuating that she saw what happened there? Or might she be the culprit?

“That’s true, the library is among my favorites as well,” Prince Hans said, for the first time struggling to keep up his smile. “Would you like to visit it again? Maybe pick up a book or two?”

Hans failed to hide the silent accusation within his questions, leaving Avril visibly amused.

“Why, that sounds wonderful. Another book would certainly do no harm.”

Now Hans was sure that she was toying with him, but without proof he could not accuse her so lightly.

“Great, just give me a moment, then we can leave.”

Hans gracefully stepped on a small stage near the buffet, usually used for musicians, and it didn’t take long until all royals in the room had their eyes on him.

“My esteemed guests, I hope the food was to your liking. From now until dinner, you are free to spend your time however you like. You can return to your quarters or enjoy some recreation at one of the many facilities you have seen today. If there is anything on your mind, do not hesitate to approach me or the attendants that will be serving you for the duration of your stay.”

As soon as it was socially acceptable for Hans to leave, he returned to Avril, who he had never let out of his vision.

“Well then, shall we go?” he asked, his smile more forced than usual.

The walk towards the library was tense. Should Hans be mistaken, an accusation of this scale would surely cause heavy repercussions not just for him but potentially their standing with Poisson as well. If he was right though…

They passed Lorens’ quarters, and a thought made Hans stop in his tracks. Did his half-brother maybe see Avril in the library? Was he not the thief but a witness, perhaps?

“My apologies, I just remembered that I have to ask my brother about something. It will only take a second.”

Tensely, Hans made the guards unlock the door and stepped into the room. But the prince he was looking for was nowhere to be seen.

“Lorens?” Hans called out as he looked around the room. “Now is not the time to play tricks, I need to speak with you!”

Avril followed him into the room and promptly walked towards the bed.

“Hey, what’s that?” she asked, holding up an old-looking book and feigning ignorance.

Hans paled on the spot. It was a tome he had never seen before. Surely the one that was stolen!

His mind was racing. So was Lorens the culprit after all? Did he escape somehow after realizing that Hans still suspected him? But then why was the book still here…

The grin on Avril’s face ultimately told Hans the truth.

“It was you, wasn’t it?!” he let slip more bluntly than he had ever spoken to another and immediately covered his mouth in panic.

Avril simply laughed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she teased and started flipping through the book.

“Stop that! What have you done with Lorens?”

Hans slowly regained his confidence now that he was sure he found the thief, but her casual demeanor still confused him deeply.

“Nothing. I just took pity on the poor boy. Locked away by his own brother, it was quite heartbreaking to watch.”

“Half-brother. And this room is certainly not a prison!”

Avril closed the book and stepped closer to Hans.

“You're right, breaking him out wasn’t even difficult.”

Hans gasped at the ease with which Avril admitted breaking into a prince’s quarters and taking him away.

“Where have you taken him? What do you want? Money? Is this a scheme to gain the upper hand in the negotiations?”

Avril’s smile briefly faded before she burst into laughter.

“Why are you always so serious? No wonder the tour was duller than Poisson’s tundras. I just want to have some fun!”

Hans blinked in confusion.

“Fun? This is a game to you? Stealing an ancient artifact and abducting a prince are grave matters!”

Avril sighed theatrically and tossed the book over to Hans, who clumsily caught it before checking frantically if it was undamaged.

“Relax. I never meant to keep it, and your brother is just fine. He even went with me voluntarily.”

“Of course he did,” Hans cursed under his breath but felt some relief that Avril seemed to harbor no malicious intent. Her actions caused him a major headache nonetheless.

“Well, fine. I’d be willing to let all this be bygones if you just tell me where he is.”

Disappointment showed on Avril’s face.

“What? But it just got interesting…”

She fidgeted a little, clearly reluctant to say anything more. Hans remained stern.

“Alright, I give in,” she eventually said. “He’s at the top of the eastern watchtower.”

“Atop the—” Hans blurted out, unbelieving, but quickly found his composure again. “That is absurd. You would have never managed to take him there in such a short amount of time.”

A hint of a smile reappeared on Avril’s face.

“Are you sure? I also broke into the forbidden part of the library and this room with no one noticing. I’m quite skilled~”

Hans opened his mouth to retort, but paused. Avril was right, she had already done what he believed to be impossible. At least a chance that Lorens was really in the tower existed.

“Fine, but you’ll come with me. I won’t let you out of my sight again until this is resolved!”

A broad grin spread across Avril’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Prince Hans did his best not to complain as they ascended the stairs of the eastern watchtower. Not just because it took them minutes and climbing stairs wasn’t exactly his favorite pastime, but because Avril kept whistling a cheerful song. Drifting slightly off-key every other bar, and he could tell it was on purpose.

Two flights below the top, he lost his patience.

“Is it your goal to torment me, Prince Avril, or is there a deeper meaning in this noise I just can’t see?”

“Prince Hans, how could you insinuate such a thing!” Avril replied, acting playfully hurt. “I simply like the echo within this tower. And the face you make when you’re trying to hide your annoyance~”

Hans paused and turned to Avril.

“What face?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

“This one,” Avril said cheerfully. “The fake smile you just barely manage to keep up. Unless someone looks you in the eyes for too long, or notices that it’s just a facade, or maybe both, and—”

“Enough!” Hans shouted—his face bright red—and turned away. “I don’t know what I did to you to deserve this, but please cease this mockery.”

For once Avril stayed quiet and the two of them silently continued their climb. Shortly before they reached the top, she softly spoke up.

“There is no deeper meaning. And I’m not trying to torment you. I simply thought you could benefit from loosening up a little.”

“Loosen up?” Hans asked unbelieving. “I’m the crown prince of this land, such a luxury isn’t within my grasp.”

“See, that’s why you’re so boring,” Avril said and passed Hans, who had stopped on the stairs. “Being the crown prince is all the more reason to let loose any chance you get. As long as you fulfill your duties, no one can even get mad at you.”

“And just what would you understand of—” Hans began to retort as he followed Avril up the stairs, but then they reached the top of the tower.

Which was utterly empty?

“You lied to me!” Hans complained as he stomped up the last few steps. “Lorens was never here, was he?!”

“How mean! I think I just misremembered. Maybe he was in the western watchtower?”

For just a second Hans contemplated the possibility, but he had given the red-haired royal the benefit of the doubt too many times already.

“Oh no, I won’t believe another word you say! You sent me on a wild goose chase for nothing but your own enjoyment.”

“I think a wild goose would be much harder to catch than that docile little brother of yours,” Avril replied matter-of-factly.

Prince Hans stared at her for a moment, overflowing with a powerful mixture of anger, annoyance, and a few other emotions he had trouble deciphering this very second.

“You… I… gah!”

Without another word, he stormed off as Avril burst into laughter behind him.

He could hear her follow down behind him not long after, and even as he sped up, she suddenly appeared right next to him.

“Wait up, where are you going?”

“Downstairs,” Hans grumbled, not keen to be roped into yet another of her pranks.

“Aw, but you didn’t even take in the view, it’s quite stunning.”

“I know, I live here.”

Avril fell back a few steps as she noticed his disdain, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Maybe I overdid it a little. How about I tell you if you’re getting closer to your brother’s location to make up for it?”

Hans quietly contemplated her suggestion. Of course it could be another ploy to make him run in circles. Still, maybe Avril really was remorseful and if he had to search the entire palace anyway…

“Very well, my prince. But if I sense so much as the hint of a lie, I’ll inform our parents of your misdeeds today.”

Avril promptly picked up pace and caught up to him.

“That won’t happen, promise!”

Hans wasn’t entirely sure if it was the first time he had seen the other royal smile without any kind of mischief in mind or if he just hadn’t seen her smile so up close, but he felt a lightness in his stomach that he had trouble rationalizing.

He couldn’t like her; not like that. Especially because she was a boy! Or so he thought. It was quite the confusing situation for the young prince.

The two of them had soon searched the entire eastern half of the palace. Avril did little but nudging the other prince into a different direction when he appeared to be stuck, but she thoroughly enjoyed their unconventional game of hide and seek. Hans on the other hand grew ever more flustered to spend so much time alone with the red-haired prince. His mind was racing, trying to come up with explanations for the surge of new feelings he experienced while they were in close proximity.

As time went on, his searching became less and less thorough, eventually just boiling down to a question of “Is he around here?” that was always answered with a simple “No.”

When he grew tired, Hans sat down in one of the palace’s lounges and Avril slouched down next to him with posture so unbecoming of a royal, it was almost offensive to Hans. As if out of reflex, he straightened his own to be even more perfect.

“Say, are you sure you’re not a peasant who just happened to sneak into this tour?”

Avril looked shocked, or maybe just surprised, but she heartily laughed before replying.

“So your silver tongue does have some edge to it. If I pester you a little more, do you think you might permanently lose that stick up your a—”

Hans jumped up, a distraught look on his face.

“Prince Avril, don’t utter such a vulgar word within this palace!”

“So if we go outside, it would be okay?” she asked, amused.

“Well, I mean…”

As many other times this day, Hans was at a loss for words. He still wasn’t used to this feeling. No one else had ever made him feel like he wasn’t in control, and the more it happened, the more unsure he was if he truly despised it.

He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know? Get your a-ass outside and try it if you want.”

The deep blush that appeared on Hans’ face was about as amusing to Avril as the words that caused it, but most of all she enjoyed watching him lose the need to always be proper. Some might call her a bad influence, but she truly believed she was doing him a favor. And herself. Because her day had become significantly more enjoyable since coaxing the crown prince out of his shell.

“Shouldn’t we find your brother first?”

Hans’ expression darkened slightly.

“We’ve already searched almost the entire palace, and all remaining rooms are off limits. Besides, what need do you have for finding him? You know exactly where he is!”

Avril feigned mulling over his words.

“Off limits? Just which rooms might you be talking about?”

A realization dawned on Hans, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Oh no, you didn’t,” he whispered sharply before storming out of the room, his destination more than clear.

“Did what?” Avril asked innocently as she jogged up to him.

“Don’t act like you don’t know, you’ve hidden him in my personal quarters, haven’t you? The one place no one but me and a select few servants are allowed to enter!”

Avril chuckled.

“If you put it like that, it makes me want to go there all the more~”

Without another word, Hans hurried to his room. The guards were still in place, and normally he wouldn’t have believed that anyone could get past them, but as he stepped inside he saw… Lorens. Lying on Hans’ most luxurious carpet surrounded by a pile of his magic books.

“Brother!” Lorens happily exclaimed on reflex before his expression turned sullen. “You found me.”

“Of course I have! But what were you thinking, hiding in my quarters?”

“Prince Avril told me to. He said he’d let me look through the stolen book if you didn’t find me.”

Upon hearing this explanation, Hans shot an angry glare towards Avril, who sheepishly smiled back at him.

“You should know better than to take part in such foolish ploys! Don’t you realize that he simply used you; made you complicit in his crimes?”

“No offense,” he added towards Avril before questioning just who he was angry at.

“I’m sorry,” Lorens grumbled and got up from the pile of books. “I just want to become a better mage. Like you.”

The words got stuck in Hans’ throat, but he had no chance to reply anyway, as Avril stepped in.

“Aw, you can’t get angry at him, can you? He just wants to be more like his big brother!”

“W-well, there are better ways to go about that,” Hans deflected, still flustered.

“Why don’t you teach him? You even have that special book with you.”

Just then Hans realized he was still clutching the book Avril stole from the library. He went through multiple stages of panic that others might now think he was the thief before concluding that no one else in the palace would even know what the book looked like.

“It is not yet my place to teach,” Hans said sternly.

Avril now joined Lorens to put on her best puppy eyes.

“Aw, please, just a little. I wanna see some magic, too.”

It took quite a bit of begging, but eventually the two of them wore Hans down.

“Okay, fine! But I’ll just go over the basics. We need to return the book before my parents hear of its absence.”

A celebratory cheer went through Hans’ chambers and its perpetrators expectantly sat down on the chaise longue. Hans began reciting what his magic instructor taught him years ago, much to Avril’s disappointment who had expected a much more hands-on presentation.

“In essence, the core of magic is to manifest a will, and turn it into reality. Our world, however, does not allow its balance to be upset. Anything you gain will be taken away in equal measure. Estimating these risks is the greatest skill a mage can have.”

The only one still captivated by Hans’ lecture at that point was Lorens. But even his enthusiasm dampened when the words sank in.

“Wait, no matter what you do, there will be downsides to your spells?” he asked, for the first time grasping this most basic concept their magic entailed.

“Indeed, though not all consequences are negative per se.”

The younger prince seemed to think for a moment, only to get up, suddenly looking rather bored.

“Hm, I’m not sure if I want to be a mage then. I’m gonna get some food.”

And with that, he was gone. Hans stared at the door, both caught off guard and somehow unsurprised that his half-brother would be so quick to give up for such a half-hearted reason.

Avril stifled a laugh but spoke no further of Lorens’ sudden departure.

“What a fool,” Hans mumbled to himself. “But maybe I’m the fool for expecting any different.”

“Well, to be honest, you didn’t exactly make magic sound exciting,” Avril said and promptly yawned. “Can’t you just show off a spell or two? That’d be much more fun than all that boring theory!”

Hans sighed and began returning all the books that were strewn around the room back to the shelf Lorens took them from.

“There are no spells, like you’d find them in fairy tales. The technique is always the same, just the will you manifest differs. Of course, the difficulty increases the more complex said will is, but—”

“Then show me that!” Avril interrupted him, her excitement rekindled. “Do you think I could learn it, too?”

Hans hesitated as he looked at Avril, who stood so close to him he thought he could feel the warmth of her smile. He averted his gaze, a soft blush on his face.

“W-well, if you have talent, it might very well be possible.”

The crown prince proceeded to explain the basic technique he spoke of and showed her an application of it that had no significant downsides: making a piece of paper float through the air. Upon completion of the spell, it would simply fall to the ground where it would remain for as long as it floated previously.

As simple as it was, Avril was delighted. Hans even made it fly in ornate patterns, which made her want to try it all the more. For a while that was all the two did, Avril concentrating on her will and the piece of paper she meant to free from gravity’s effect, while Hans observed, correcting her form and giving advice from time to time.

“There! I think it just moved!” Avril exclaimed excitedly, but what little distance the paper may have floated upwards became nothing again right that instant.

“Don’t let up your focus. A half-manifested will harbors unpredictable dangers!” Hans said, still deep in his instructor role.

They continued for a short while longer, but Avril could not repeat her earlier success.

“This is harder than I thought…” she grumbled as she sank down to take a break.

“Don’t fret, most magic novices need at least a month before they first see any kind of success,” Hans tried to comfort her. “Still, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we really need to return the book! Dinner is only an hour away.”

“Alright, alright, just give me the book and I’ll put it back.”

Avril got up again to reach for the stolen tome, but Hans quickly grabbed it.

“Oh no, I’ll go with you. I won’t leave you on your own with this book again!”

“I can’t break into the library if I have to take you with me,” she retorted slightly irked that he still didn’t trust her. Though she couldn’t fault him either…

“Why not? How have you broken in, anyway?”

“Duh, I climbed in through the window,” Avril replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

At first Hans thought she was joking. But as she quietly looked on, it dawned on him she spoke the truth.

“Through the window?! Do you know how far up we are?”

Now it was Avril’s turn to look at him in disbelief.

“Yes? But if you don’t lock your windows, that’s still the easiest way inside.”

“Well, I will not risk my neck by clambering up the palace walls! We’ll have to sneak in through the door.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me if we get caught,” Avril relented and took Hans by the hand to lead him out of the room. Hans hardly managed to form even a single coherent thought until she let go again.

By the time they reached the library, most guards that Hans had sent to search for the thief had returned to their positions. They didn’t think twice about Hans entering the room or even about the book he was carrying, but going through the door to the forbidden section would be another story.

Hans led Avril to a part of the library where they were on their own to think of a plan.

“And if I try to distract them?” she suggested.

“That won’t work. They’re more alert than usual, so at least some would remain at the door.”

“Then I’m out of ideas. Why don’t you just use magic?”

By now Hans knew Avril well enough to realize she wasn’t joking, but the idea still seemed absurd to him.

“Magic? I may as well stab a knife into my leg right here and now. Who knows what may happen if I just willed this book back to its rightful place.”

Avril shrugged.

“I didn’t say to teleport it back, we could just turn ourselves invisible and walk right past the guards.”

Prince Hans drew breath to object, but as he thought about it, he had to admit that the idea wasn’t half-bad. He cleared his throat as he composed himself again and calmly replied.

“Very well, I still don’t like the risk, but we may as well try.”

He had never attempted to turn invisible before, but it shouldn’t pose any more problems than another form of transmutation. As he began to put a spell on them, Avril joined in, following through with what she had learned earlier. Whether it actually helped was hard to discern, but soon they were invisible! Even to each other.

“It worked!” Hans exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement at the success. “But I can’t see you, Prince Avril. M-may I hold your hand again? Just… to know where you are?”

He half expected her to laugh, but instead he felt her hand reaching out to him. The prince clumsily took it, and the two made their way to the door of the forbidden part of the library.

Hans’ heart was pounding as they sneaked past the guards, not just because of stress. To his relief, the spell held up, and they made it inside with no problem. Avril lead him to the shelf she had stolen the book from, and Hans quietly returned it.

“That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?” she whispered.

“N-no,” Hans replied, ever conscious of her hand in his. “Now let’s return before we’re visible again.”

No longer than it took to go back, were they invisible, and Hans let out a sigh of relief as they reappeared. Avril let go of his hand, and as disappointed as he was, he felt quite glad too because his own had started to become rather clammy.

“That was fun!” Avril said with her usual carefree smile that no longer irritated Hans.

“Indeed, it was,” he admitted truthfully. He couldn’t remember when last he felt so free of his princely burdens. “Now shall we get ready for dinner? I feel rather peckish.”

To that Avril agreed quite readily, and for the first time in hours, they parted ways to each go to their quarters.

For once, Hans wasn’t the first to arrive. It took him quite a while to pick out his outfit, since he wanted to impress. More than usual. He was only apart from Avril for a short while, but it made him realize something that had crept up on him the entire day. He felt drawn to this prince. Like he had never felt before. And even at the risk of sullying his reputation as a perfect crown prince, he wanted to confess to him just what he felt.

The hall was already filled with many royals, even more than earlier that day, since even the adults were present now. As he looked around hopefully, he couldn’t find who he was looking for. His heart ached a little as he strolled across the room, turning his head towards anything red he spotted. But it was never the prince he longed to see.

Just as he began to doubt if Avril was even there, he felt a gently tap on his shoulder. His hope renewed, he spun around and saw… a girl. In a dress more beautiful than he had ever seen. A girl with deep red hair and a smile he would never mistake for someone else's.

“P-prince… Avril?” he hesitantly asked.

“Princess. But otherwise, yes,” she said cheerfully.

Hans still couldn’t believe his eyes.

“B-but, earlier you were—”

“Wearing more practical clothes. It’s not that easy to climb in a dress, and I didn’t want all the princes to approach me during the tour.”

Prince Hans nervously swallowed. Just as he accepted having fallen in love with a boy, Avril sprung yet another surprise on him! But his feelings hadn’t changed. Unlike his assumptions of who he felt attracted to.

“So… have you no interest in being approached at all?” Hans asked and blushed further as he realized how transparent his question was.

Avril raised a brow but still appeared cheerful.

“What, you’ve seen me in a dress for just a minute and already feel the need to confess to me?”

“N-no! That need was there even before!” Hans blurted out and quickly looked around if anyone had overheard.

Avril laughed warmly.

“So it wasn’t my imagination then. I suppose I don’t mind if it’s you who expresses interest~”

The relief Prince Hans felt was immense. He once again composed himself and looked at Avril, who suddenly seemed even prettier than before. Hans could hardly tear his eyes from her. So much so that…

“Oh no,” he whispered as he realized. “Our spell from the library… I’m afraid it’s recoil just began.”

All across the room, the royals turned their heads to the stunning young couple. Even besides being good looking under normal circumstances, now they weren’t just visible, they were hyper-visible. No one in their vicinity could look away from them without considerable effort!

“My, then we better look deserving of all this attention,” Avril said, not fazed in the slightest, and linked her arm with that of Hans.

At first the prince felt a little self-conscious under everyone’s stares. But as the evening progressed, he rather relished them. Before long, the magic induced stares had faded but the two of them were still more than eye-catching.

“Why did you play all these tricks on me?” Hans asked when quiet had fallen over them for a short while.

“Hmm,” Avril replied thoughtfully. “You were just there. And I was curious if there was more to you than that boring, perfect prince you always try to look like.”

Hans appreciated her straightforwardness, but was a little disappointed that was all there was to it.

“I already told you, I have to act that way since I am the crown prince.”

“No, you don’t. I’m the crown princess of Poisson, and I’m doing just fine.”

Prince Hans gasped.

“You are what? And no one admonishes you for your mischief? Or your manners? Even dressing as a prince to fool other royals?”

The princess laughed once more, and the sound filled Hans with warmth.

“When you put it like that it sounds pretty bad, but I promise I can act the part when I have to! In fact, I work all the harder to fulfill my role if it means I can afford such freedoms in return,” she said and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, almost looking bashful for once. “You should try it too, all the pressure is easier to deal with if you allow yourself to just be free sometimes.”

Her words resonated deeply with Hans. It seemed like such a simple truth, but also one that is easy to overlook.

“I will,” he replied and took her hand into his. “If you show me how, I’ll gladly follow.”

[doodleimprovement]

Antonia’s Fan Fiction Masterlist

~~~THE AO3 ADDITION~~~

All of the Fics I've written and posted on AO3 as of 1/12/2019

Undertale 

Tuffet Tales: (Abandoned Series) 

Home From Grillbyz (2015)

Sans gets Drunk, OC gets them home? Being drunk kind of sucks but it gets the weight off your chest 

 Afternoon Coffee (2015)

A thank you trip to a coffee shop backfires on Pap, but talking helps 

No Suplexing on the Premises (2015) 

Working out with Undyne is almost always a good time, but the aftermath is nice

GB Skelefrisk (Abandoned Series)

You’ll Be Fine, Babybones (2016)

A Requested Fic, Enjoy! 

We’re Here, and I’m So Sorry (2016)

It had been such a good day, but bad things happen when Gaster is bored in the void

Along Came A Spider (Complete Multi-Chapter Fic - 2016)

Tuffet the spider - having recently been kicked out of her home because Spider Tradition- just started living on her own, and takes in two seemingly lost shape shifting skeletons after she comes home to them crashing on her couch. She knows they're keeping secrets, and they know the same about her, but when you only have each other, some trust has to build, right? 

Along Came A Spider (Rewrite - In Progress - Multi Chapter - Updated 2019)

When 12 year old Tuffet is thrown out of her house due to some ridiculous Spider Tradition, she takes to living on her own without much fuss. But how will she handle her new, independent life when two shape shifters just kinda... take up her couch? She lets them in with open arms, but they seem hesitant. They're clearly hiding things, but living under one roof, some trust has to build... right?

Please, Don’t Forget (2016)

Revenge... it felt like such a good idea at the time... But now.... 

Returning (Home) (2019)

The aftermath of the neutral pacifist run.... Or is it? 

Coco

Watchful Eyes (2018)

or "I have to watch my ex husband be a good dad and it kind of gets under my metaphorical skin" 

One Good Try (2018)

Miguel is loosing sleep and gaining anxiety in the wake of his day in the land of the dead, with one question always at the edge of his thoughts

         "What if he didn't make it?"

          He had to find out. He had to try

Marvel

Nell and the Company She Keeps (Incomplete Series) 

Annabella Gracia Buonacci is a queer nurse living in Queens who gets embroiled in the cacophony of drama and ridiculousness that is the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

A series of One-shots, Ficlets and Regular ol' fics surrounding my shameless Self-insert OC in the MCU, starting around Homecoming and up to Avengers: Infinity War. Can and will be out of order.

All That’s Left (2018)

Thor is left to take stock of all that’s left of his people, his friends, his pride and his guilt.Nell is unfortunately a keen observer

Aftermath of Prayer (2018)

[...] in those final days in Wakanda, where she waiting with bated breath for the end of the world, she prayed. She practically begged whatever god existed to please, please, bring them back. Bring them all back. And well… it had been close enough.

Hard To Describe (2019)

Original title: "Nell's Super Weird Relationship With Tony Stark" Or "Nina writes an extremely self indulgent fanfic where Tony Stark befriends her and validates her life choices". I am expecting no one to read this, honestly.

The Dragon of the MCU (Incomplete Series)

A series of one shots, Plot Summaries and ficlets having to do with my OC Insert into the MCU.

Abandoned (2019)

Jose hadn’t known what to expect when two of the most important adults in his life were fighting in an abandoned Siberian bunker. He just knew the fighting had to stop. He didn’t want to take sides. He never meant to pick a side. But he did. When he quite literally turned his back on Captain America, that was seen as his choice. By the time he heard the clattering of the shield and turned his head, Steve was gone with his friend, and they were alone... Abandoned

Still Here (2019)

Jose is back from Asgard, but whether or not he's ready to engage with actually being a teenage on earth is another story... or "Tony has no idea how to parent but he'll give it a shot"

And You Got Us Feeling Alright (2019)

Jose didn't mean for his piano playing to become something so few people knew.. Didn't mean for it to become precious to him.. To become his outlet. But things just happen like that, sometimes

Just Another Wednesday (Complete Multi-Chapter Fic - 2018)

When a bizarre being wants Stephen's cloak, it decides to use Peter to get to him - what no one is expecting is for this cuckoo bird to do.... whatever the hell it is he did. Now Stephen has to both rescue Peter, and reverse a spell. . . What a wednesday

More Than a Little Secret (Incomplete - Multi Chapter - Updated 2019)

Howard did a lot more than shame Tony for not being as good as Captain America. In fact, he was so obsessed with the idea that he developed a (rather problematic) version of the super serum and injected Tony with it. Tony hates it. So he’s become almost perfect at hiding its effects… Almost being the key word there. Prompt taken from the excellent Tumblr Blog: @tonystarkismyprompt

Fracture (Incomplete - Multi Chapter - Updated 2019)

Just as things come together, they fall apart - that's just how Peter Parker's life has always been. The ever famous "Parker Luck". He didn't think fate would decide to test it like this ((Winter Solider Tony AU, Beta-Read by Tumblr User @littlescarletstar ))

So, That’s What it Looks Like (2018)

Nebula and Tony Stark are alone on Titan. Tony is trying to process the loss. Nebula is trying to understand why the last one had to go the way he did.

Asking For Help, If You Need It (2018)

Happy had told him that the number was life or death. To never call unless the situation was dire. He called

Making A Show Of It (2018)

All Peter wanted was proof of his internship to shut up some rumors at school. Tony Stark has ... plans

101.9 (2018)

A Prompt from Ironmanstan on Tumblr where they recommended that Tony would use Bucky's cool metal arm to chill himself from a fever.... WinterIron with a smattering of Irondad and Spiderson

Hey, You’re Fine Kid (2019)

A fight with the Rhino leaves Peter with a nasty scar he can't really stand, but maybe all he needed was a chat with everyone's favorite wizard

Only Just Realized (2019)

Stephen has made fast friends with everyone's favorite web-slinger. Maybe a little more than that..-- Mostly a stream of thought fic with Stephen realizing how much he cares about Peter

Detroit: Become Human

Like Mother, Like Son, In a Way (Incomplete Series)

Familial Visit...? (2018)

Hank is both intrigued and confused when Connor mentions that he has to visit his "Mother". The visit garners more questions than answers, however

Those Portuguese Curls (2018)

Hank gets to see those curls Genoviva mentioned

T r a u m a t i z e d (2018)

Hank knows that when a kid freaks out, the best person for him is his mother. . . That and maybe he can learn a little more.... He learns more than he could have wanted, honestly

Hubris (2018)

Genoviva thinks she can keep Connor safe... But it's her care that may be putting him in danger

Alternate Deviancy (2018)

Hank should have been there when Connor went Deviant.. so I wrote that

[makingstuffup]

Here’s an argument that we see from ace tumblr on a regular basis. It’s the argument that people not knowing about your identity or believing that it’s real is, in and of itself, a form of oppression (often phrased as “at least people know you exist”). This argument is being used in someone’s blog post to prove a certain point.

[T]here is one more term which I must define, namely that which I call "oppression by omission." By this, I don't simply mean the invisibility of minorities (either "invisibility" in the larger society, or as "invisibility" within minority spaces, such as this blog post about the invisibility of Native/Indigenous people in spaces for people of color). There are countless ways in which minorities of various kinds, and those positions of relatively less social power, are not taken into account, left out of decision-making processes that have an impact on them, etc. Oppression by omission is not "you are so marginalized we do not have to consider how this will impact you," although that plays a role in it. What I am mainly talking about here is the experience of minority groups about whom the master-narrative is "this group does not and cannot exist at all," and when one of the central ways by which oppression is occurring is through society's repeated (even ubiquitous) assertion that people like this do not and cannot exist, and that people who "claim" to be this way are mentally ill, frauds, or are otherwise incapable of accurately relating their own experiences. In some cases, anyone who even accepts the experiences of these people is considered deserving of ridicule. When oppression by omission is occurring, the people impacted by it are very unlikely to "come out" about their experiences, not because there are explicit statutes on the books about people like them, but because the social ostracism, or perceived threat of such, is immense. In subtle and not subtle ways, most of us are taught at an early age that there is something different, or scary, or not OK about our experiences. This ostracism, or perceived threat of such, is almost always also invisible to those who do not see these minorities in the first place. The invisibility begets invisibility; with few to no positive role-models, few to no positive and empowering stories to identify with, and relentless negative messaging (in some cases through spec fic), invisibility can become the only "safe" world we know, and we can be hesitant to challenge it. Oppression by omission can take place on a small scale or a large one, within the larger social framework or within minority spaces, alone or in conjunction with other forms of oppression. It is different from what is usually recognized as "oppression," the more overt and visible forms. But it is not without often profound impact on the people who are thus erased. There have been efforts aimed at challenging invisibility, even challening the oppression by omission, in certain communities. The Asexuality Visibility and Education Network has been doing this work for a decade, and recently a documentary has been made about asexuality and asexual people. Yes, asexuals face considerable oppression by omission: check out the lovely videos made by swankivy, such as here, where you can watch videos she made about her "Asexuality Top Ten." ("You can't really be asexual, you must be...")

What do you think the context of this is? What point is the author trying to make? Take a guess before you read the rest.

This comes from the blog critpsitheory, which aims to combat the oppression of people with psychic powers. The entries date from 2011 to 2013.

It has a long list of bingo cards, a list of how to evaluate media for anti-psi bias, a list of common microaggressions against psi, and more. This is the post the quote came from, and the author goes on to say:

The concept of oppression by omission is also helpful for understanding the invisibility faced by more esoteric minorities, such as Otherkin, therians, psi/sang vampyres, or even what it's like to be part of a multiple system. To some degree, transgender people also face oppression by omission, such as "genderqueer people do not exist," "transmen are really butch lesbians who took it too far," or "trans women are all cross-dressers who want to colonize women's identities and bodies." Bisexual/pansexual people also face it. The list goes on. Now all of these experiences (and many more) are very different, and very diverse within each category. The only parallel I am drawing is that in each instance, the social master-narrative is, at least at times, one of "non-existence," and so each and every time someone tries to come forward with a counter-narrative and express his/her/hir experience of the world, for whatever reason, he/she/ze has to deal with that master-narrative in some way. It might be because someone else is shutting them down or putting them down. It might be because they have to couch their experience in other terms in order to get through someone's filters. It might be because they have to, in some sense, "test out" all the people they talk to about this aspect of their lives to see if they can accept it. It might be that they choose never to tell others, because they know that telling others is fundamentally emotionally, socially or even physically unsafe. (See this video, for example.) What does psi omission look like? It really takes many forms. It can be that psi experiences are omitted from the biographies of famous people, even when these people wrote extensively about their experiences -- such as Mark Twain (for example here, and the several articles linked here) or Konstantin Tsiolkovsky. It can be the dearth, or even total lack, of non-sensationlistic non-fiction produced about the subject. It can be discourse or study that focuses exclusively on whether or not the "claims" are "real," with little to no attention paid to the narratives of the people living with these experiences (except when the purpose is sensationalism, or the entertainment of non-psi people). It exists in the lack of realistic characters, with experiences like ours, present in "realistic fiction" on television, in books and movies, etc. -- characters who are full people (not two dimensional plot devices), characters whose role in the story is not to "do psi things" every week (or simply to be scary, or to stand there and look sexy), characters who exhibit self-determination, characters who can serve as positive role-models. It exists in the complete lack of serious support groups (in the US, anyway) for young people trying to understand their experiences in a world that denies, stigmatizes and ridicules them. It exists in "othering" language and the use of us as rhetorical sarcasm (which I will cover in more depth on this blog).

Now, whatever your personal beliefs on the existence of psychic powers, I hope we can all agree that people with psychic powers are not an oppressed group. The author lists bi and trans people as also suffering from this “oppression by omission,” and I hope we can all agree that bi and trans people actually are oppressed.

What does this tell us? It tells us that this argument is a bad one, and can be used to “prove” the oppression of any identity whatsoever as long as it’s less well known.

This blog came out of the heady days of roughly 2009-2012, when some sectors of the internet collectively discovered social justice in the aftermath of RaceFail. In the naive enthusiasm of those days, many people started creating privilege checklists, bingo cards, etc. for every identity they could possibly think of that faced societal stigma or invisibility or was not considered the norm. 

There was one popular social justice blogger at that time who argued that being able to not drive drunk was a privilege, not being a necrophiliac was a privilege, and not being attracted to your siblings was a privilege similar to straight privilege. This blogger also endorsed monosexual privilege and binary privilege (the word “allosexual” hadn’t been invented yet, but I believe she also endorsed “sexual privilege”). (I’m not going to name her because she no longer endorses those ideas as far as I know.)

There were bloggers, some of them trolls but not all (and plenty of earnest people reblogged and supported the trolls’ ideas), who endorsed the ideas of “transethnic” and “transabled” oppression, which meant that people who identified as a different ethnicity than they were, or who identified as having a disability that they did not have, were oppressed. 

Take a look at this list of personal privileges and oppressions, and “some of the oppressions and systems that kyriarchy is composed of.” (Warning: the author admits to committing sexual abuse.) I think this person was later revealed to be a troll, but they were satirizing a very real and common way of thinking.

The word “queerplatonic” came out of that time, and is representative of the ideas of that time.

“Privilege Denying X” was a popular meme at that time, and in response to the ace discourse - which was going on then and has never stopped - someone created the blog “Privilege Denying Asexuals,” which responds to ace tumblr’s rhetoric with many of the same arguments we are still using. (It’s an interesting exercise to see what’s changed and what hasn’t.)

In roughly 2013, tumblr slowly began changing courses to say that not all forms of societal stigma, discrimination, and lack of visibility were actually examples of a privilege/oppression dynamic. Materialist analysis slowly began gaining the upper hand, and now you’d be hard pressed to find someone on tumblr who thought that drunk drivers, necrophiliacs, “transabled” people, goths, furries, “vampyres,” people with dyed green hair, etc. are oppressed. In most cases where groups like this are concerned, it is no longer common for people to equate the forms of discrimination and invisibility described in this psi post to oppression.

Ace discourse is simply one of the last holdouts of this kind of rhetoric. 

I do not mean to say that asexuals are like drunk drivers in that they are harmful, or like “psychic vampyres” in that the experiences they describe don’t exist. Some of the groups that people claimed were oppressed then are real, some are not; some face real difficulty in society that should be respected, some do not; some are not inherently harmful to others, and some are. People who don’t experience sexual attraction are real, often do face difficulty, and their lack of sexual attraction is harmless to others, but that does not make them an oppressed group, and it certainly doesn’t make them oppressed under homophobia and transphobia, the systems of oppression that the LGBT coalition exists to fight.

[arts-dance]

How the gif won the internet

The gif or graphics interchange format, which is ubiquitous in modern internet conversations, actually turned 30 this year. Arwa Haider tracks its meteoric rise. 

By Arwa Haider   29 August 2017

In an age of 24/7 information, where there’s pressure to stand out, and a general expectation that we should react to news in real time, we need to say something as quickly and emphatically as possible – so we say it with gifs.

The gif (graphics interchange format) has become a ubiquitous fixture of modern media, in various forms, whether it’s a flashy brand logo, or a festive e-card. More than anything, it’s now synonymous with the ‘reaction gif’: a fleeting animated clip, usually on a mesmerising auto-play loop, posted to convey a specific emotion. These gifs might feature film or music stars, cartoons, or cats – and they embody a range of expressions that have become everyday patter, thanks to social media: the ‘eye roll’, the ‘facepalm’, the ‘mic drop’. These are potent little shots of melodrama; gifs are inherently camp. They also seem brightly millennial – so it might come as a surprise that the gif actually turned 30 this year.

Back in June 1987, the gif was originally launched by a CompuServe team led by US software writer Steve Wilhite. The format used the Lempel-Ziv-Welch lossless data compression technique, meaning that files (and notably colour visuals here) could be reduced in size without impairing their quality. This proved to be a game-changer in an era of crushingly slow modem connections; early website designs used gifs liberally, not least for zany ‘under construction’ graphics. Tech wars were waged over the years, including a mid-90s challenge from the png (portable network graphics) format. But as digital culture flourished, and devices became increasingly mobile, the gif’s personalised possibilities took off, too.

Social networking/discussion sites such as Tumblr and Reddit, along with image hosting service Imgur, have played a key role in making gifs a mass shared experience. In 2012, ‘gif’ was named Oxford Dictionaries’ USA Word of The Year. If you’ve posted a gif since, though, you’ve almost certainly used Giphy. This New York-based company was founded as a search engine in 2013, by Alex Chung and Jace Cooke. Giphy is now a 70-strong team, including its website, apps, and distinctly user-friendly integrated platforms on Twitter, Facebook and Whatsapp. Currently valued at $300million (£233million), it reportedly had 200 million daily active users in July 2017.

“It’s not about technological development; it’s about human adoption,” argues Dr Sarah Thornton, a San Francisco-based sociologist of culture, and author of books including the best-selling Seven Days in The Art World and 33 Artists in 3 Acts. “User-experiential design has become the premium heart of technology companies. The user interface is key; it has to be just a few swipes of the hand.”

In a medium where words might be limited, the emotional impact of gifs should be similarly direct: “They’re lingua franca,” says Thornton. “They’re not determined by linguistic boundaries, and they are so simple that a child can understand them.”

Gifs do have an incredibly multi-generational scope, in their themes (which are as likely to feature vintage clips of Brando or Monroe as Beyoncé, or 80s-flavoured memes), and their users. My four-year-old niece might not yet be writing to her sixty-something grandmother, but they can freely message each other in gifs. Justin Garbett, the Senior Editor of Reaction Gif at Giphy, describes his role as “the millennial’s dream job”, but also expounds the far-reaching appeal of gifs:

“Gifs add humour to our conversations, but they can also be a unique dialect between two specific people,” says Garbett. “Emojis and text communicate very specific things; with gifs, you can add further colour to that meaning. A ‘thumbs-up’ emoji is pretty straight-forward, but a ‘thumbs-up’ gif can be excited, sarcastic, reassuring or hesitant. You can use an actor, a pop-culture reference, a cute animal, anything. Your vocabulary is limitless, and you can convey a lot with very little effort. Gifs are also self-contained, and go just about anywhere: text messages, social media posts, blog entries, you name it.”

The perfect gif

British journalist and novelist Justin Myers, aka The Guyliner, is a celebrated and incisive writer who has earned a rep for using gifs creatively, notably in his online dating columns. Myers admits that cherry-picking the right gifs can add hours to writing a feature; he’s also positive about why they’ve captured our popular imagination:

“It's about joining in, and entertaining,” says Myers. “Not everybody has the confidence to crack a joke. Gifs level out the playing field a little; anyone can be part of the conversation, or move it forward. The exception would be overuse, especially of a newer gif that goes viral.

"Still, gifs let us get straight to the point because they're so immediate, so wonderfully evocative. It’s easier to get someone onside to identify with us, if we use a gif that represents us – even though it features someone else. They’re almost impossible to misread. A sarcastic tone in a tweet might be misconstrued, but a gif of Lucille Bluth from Arrested Development rolling her eyes at what you just said doesn't take the Enigma machine to decipher.”

Such immediate expressions are not without complexity, however. In August, 2017, Teen Vogue published an online op-ed piece, We Need To Talk About Digital Blackface In Reaction GIFs, in which writer Lauren Michele Jackson questioned the widespread use of black figures in gifs as a kind of modern minstrelsy: posted by non-black users to reinforce racist caricatures. It’s certainly an important argument; mainstream media has historically side-lined black cultures while co-opting black style and slang. Yet gif communication is undeniably multi-layered, too; reaction gifs are deliberately over the top, often using famous faces to capture universal emotions, or to reveal hidden nuances. The array of ‘trending’ gifs on any search engine can be giddying – but they work best when they’re powered by empathy, connecting with whoever we are.

Myers concedes that “a good gif is a good gif”, though he is also reflective: “It might sound like an overreaction, but just like any form of communication, gif usage comes with responsibility,” he says. “Are you reinforcing stereotypes, marginalising someone or revealing unpleasant prejudices? It all has to be considered.”

Like any populist form, gifs are also often dismissed as ‘throwaway’. When Myers recently introduced gifs to an online feature for The Guardian newspaper, the response was mixed. “We think gifs are mainstream, but they actually have a long way to go,” he says. The response from the art world has also been ambivalent, even though gif art has technically been around since 1987; the Tate Britain gallery humorously used gifs to brings its 1840s collection to life, and contemporary artists using gifs include LA-based Eric Yahnker, whose 2017 work The Long Goodbye eulogises Obama’s famous ‘mic drop’ statement.

“There’s a tension between the digital and the analogue,” says Thornton. “Art with a capital ‘A’ is a physical experience. One of the reasons for the popularity of art museums is the physical experience; you see things in a gallery that have a texture and scale, it’s visceral, you physically interact with them. gifs and jpegs may help to sell art, but people really want to see the whole thing.”

It’s their strangely old-school quality, reminiscent of silent movies, or even a zoetrope, that should ensure they endure

There are numerous reasons why a gif might go viral – Barnett highlights qualities such as relatability, timeliness and originality, as well as breaking the fourth wall (“it feels like the action is being directed right at the recipient”). Ultimately, though, it’s their strangely old-school quality, reminiscent of silent movies, or even a zoetrope, that should ensure they endure – or at least, date more appealingly than “hi-tech” CGI like the terrifying Dancing Baby (1996).

"They tap into our thirst for nostalgia, and for showing off our knowledge of pop culture,” says Myers. “Their message can be brought bang up-to-date, especially now it's easy to customise them. One of my favourite gifs features Joan Collins as Dynasty’s Alexis producing a paper from her blouse and waving it in triumph. The accompanying dialogue was originally "I have the papers to prove it"; you'll often see it repurposed with the very modern 'I have the receipts'."

Gifs reflect “the atomisation of information culture”, according to Thornton.  “Everyone nowadays is multi-tasking, juggling conversations on different devices,” she says. “Gifs have a pace that fits into a frenetic time.”

Within seconds, these compressed visuals can leave a lasting impression – and speak volumes about us, too.

If you would like to comment on this story or anything else you have seen on BBC Culture, head over to our Facebook page or message us on Twitter.

Gifs are lingua franca - they are so simple that a child can understand them - Sarah Thornton

It’s their strangely old-school quality, reminiscent of silent movies, or even a zoetrope, that should ensure they endure

http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20170825-how-the-gif-won-the-internet

[enfprogress-blog]

Writing Day 2

So, in today’s exercise I have to write down what streams from my mind for twenty minutes. I think a lot of what’s going on in my mind is preparing for tonight’s first mastermind group as well as preparing myself for finally getting myself back into routines. Something that occurred to me as I was reading over this lesson was the fact that I had been scheduling my mornings something like this:

4:45 - up and do yoga 5:30 - start writing and doing whatever I need to but end up checking email and Facebook

Well, I’ve recently deactivated my Facebook. It wasn’t just for the time-saving factors...it was also for the emotional drain and umm...what’s the word I’m looking for as I wanna say softballing but that’s not right, no...I guess more like the phrase I’m looking for is that Facebook tends to act as a substitute for positive interaction with people and getting social feel good cues and social capital from. Likes and shares and comments are really like empty calories, analogously.

So, I think what I’m gonna have to do is split up my mornings learning GIMP and getting writing done. I know I want to get something done along the lines of an ENFP blog about my striving towards my goals and becoming better and better and discussing all that. Honestly, a podcast would be best for that, but I need to focus first and foremost on the business with The Weekly Status. That’s the cornerstone of all this. Everything else will flow from it, including the time and money and convenience to write the things I want to write. I realize, as I’ve been downloading all these SeanWes podcasts that the community I most enjoy and the one I think I can reach and provide content for is of those who are addicts and ex-addicts of all kinds and flavors, so to speak. I have a heart for that sort of thing spiritually...or at least I have a heart that’s after having a heart for such things...not to mention the fact that I can relate so much to such struggles.

Yes, and another thing that occurs to me is how much I am going to be able to do if I can learn GIMP. I really have a knack for teaching. Just imagine if I could help a lot of people with marketable skills in this day and age. I love how Tucker Max put it before about how it’s all about the skills you can show, not the ones that are theoretical, on paper, or just in your head. If you can’t show your work, you might as well be blindly guessing or cheating...just like with math tests.

I think that I do get something out of listening to upbeat music like this when I am writing. I think I could get weekly updates with a number of things like on five different tumblrs. Maybe a spiritual/addiction one, a business/personal/practical growth one, a “DJ Fi” one like...with me sharing a song and describing its Fi feel in poetic detail, a 160 poem, and that leaves room for one more...I suppose it COULD be a 160 that’s not my own...and, to be honest, that might actually be for the best. Yes...that would further spread my content with connected sharing involving stuff that’s not under copyright but has been famous/comes from famous authors and politicians and quote masters from the past. Sometimes have the five different blogs intermingle. Hmm...I’m gonna have to build up a stack of finished content with some of these before jumping into the foray, not to mention keeping my eyes on The Weekly Status. I think, though, that that’s fine...build this writing habit and get it under my belt securely while working on creating the skills I need for making The Weekly Status get up and running. I can start the five blogs not long after I get done with it and that would be fine, I believe.

Speaking of The Weekly Status, I need to start focusing on my goals and what I have to do and get done for it. I reckon, considering money issues and being realistic about getting things ready, I’m looking at a first of June execution. That would be realistic, considering everything. This will give me time to refine and create content, learn everything I need with GIMP and using Scribus better, and hunt out some advertisers. I feel a bit excited writing that because I feel it’s becoming realer just by getting these things out of my head and discussing them with myself here on this blog. This 30 days to better writing is going to be beneficial, I can tell. I think that I am also gonna get a lot out of these various podcasts I’m perusing while downloading. I’ve kinda went off in another direction in this paragraph and I suppose that’s fine, but I know it would have to be edited and formally divided into two paragraphs.

But getting back to what I was saying, I need to figure out my time constraints here...

I’ve easily got 5:30 to 7..let’s call it 5:30 to 6:50...must be realistic because I may need to get things together that morning more than I might normally and it’s better I keep things rigidly organized. I dunno I’m kinda hesitant to plan this out a bit. At least like...right here commit and decide. Hmm...that second named time would be about thirty plus fifty minutes so forty minutes for each thing it looks like. Hm. I will think more on this and decide very soon. Like today/tonight.