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wooahaeproductions · 4 months ago

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Tracing Time (part one)

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Female Reader

Summary: In order to cope with your mother’s death, you decide to study abroad in Rio for the summer just like she did. You come upon the diary she kept during that time, following all that she did 20 years ago. However, you didn't expect finding love would be part of that process.

Genre: fluff, angst, romance, comedy, smut (in part two), strangers to lovers au, neighbors au, college au

Word count: ~4.7k

Warnings: mentions of a family members death and mentions of ways to cope. Part two will have smut and will have it's own warnings.

Rating: 18+ for the completed fic

A/N: It's finally here! I struggled to write this for some reason but hopefully part two will come easier. This fic is for svthub's 2024 World Tour Collab and I am so happy to be apart of another collab. Please check out all the other amazing works as well! I also want to thank my beta readers Summer @beomcoups and Kiki @nonuify 🥰~Maren

You took a deep breath as you stopped in front of the student housing building and started at its gorgeous architecture before pulling an old photo from the front pocket of your bag. You held it out in front of you, confirming this was the building the smiling woman in the photo was standing in front of. You were here, standing in the same spot your mother had at your age when she studied at the very same summer exchange program in Brazil that you were going to.

You slipped the photo back into your bag and took one more big breath before bringing yourself and your luggage into the lobby of the building. You were supposed to meet the student liaison for the university exchange program there to get your dorm keys along with your class information. You looked around the large lobby in awe. It looked much more like a hotel with its grand marble floors and sophisticated ambiance than student accommodations.

“You must be Y/N!” You heard a woman say in accented English and you spotted her walking across the lobby toward you. She was an older woman wearing a designer pantsuit, and her hair looked like she had just been at a salon. You certainly weren’t in Chicago anymore. Everything was different here, and you had only been at the airport and this place so far.

“Hi, I am she,” you responded to the woman, feeling a little overwhelmed already. Which honestly wasn’t that unusual given the circumstances of the past year.

“Welcome to PUC University and Rio de Janeiro. I’m Mrs. Delgado,” she said. She must have sensed how overwhelmed you were because she gave your arm a gentle pat before continuing. She pulls a packet of paper out of the bag she was carrying and hands it to you. “This is your class schedule and some information about the benefits available to you as an exchange student. There are only three classes since it is a summer program, one being the Portuguese class that all of our international students are required to take, Drawing 110, and Brazilian Art and Architecture.”

After explaining your schedule, she then pulled out a set of keys that jingled on an ornate keychain, one that matched the building. “And these are the keys to your dorm,” she said, handing them to you. “I’ll let you get settled and ready for your first day tomorrow. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me and boa sorte!” A second later, she was gone leaving you staring at your dorm number on the keychain.

“203,” you murmured the number, looking around to see if there was any indication of where your room would be. You opted to ask the boy manning the front desk, whose English was actually great. He pointed to the staircase on the other end of the lobby and told you it was up those and to the right. Just as you were about to head up the stairs, wheeling your suitcase behind you, someone just about knocked you over. A guy to be exact, a handsome one at that.

“Oh my gosh, I’m late. I’m so sorry, but I’m late!” He blurted, briskly brushing past you with a rushed apology. You stood at the bottom of the stairs, blinking while he ran out of the building. You didn’t have the energy to think about him right now despite his looks, not that you ever entertained the idea of a meet-cute this way or god forbid actually falling in love in this scenario.

You shook your head and put the handle down on your suitcase so you could carry it upstairs with you. You turned the key in the door to your room and walked in, your eyes taking in where you would live for the next few months. It was simple, much like a hotel room but you did have a tiny kitchenette that you didn’t expect to have and a window that looked out to the square that was in front of the building.

You brought your suitcase up on the twin bed so you could unpack a few things before thinking about finding dinner. You put a few clothes in the small dresser that was there before stumbling upon the whole reason you were here: your mom’s diary. You picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed with it, fingertips stroking the leather cover.

Six months earlier

People were coming in and out of the house giving you and your family words of condolences, but everything was a blur to you. You sat on the couch in the living room when you had all come back from the funeral home, numb to everything. Tears had long since been exhausted, and now all you were was an empty shell, an empty shell without a mother. You were vaguely aware that your grandmother had sat down next to you, brushing your bangs out of your eyes before gently placing a book in your lap: your mother’s diary from when she was the same age as you.

You opened the leather book up, looking at the cover page that you had stared at so many times since your grandmother had given it to you. You recognized your mom’s loopy writing confirming that the diary belonged to her and Summer 1985 written underneath. You turned the page to the first entry, the one that had the photo of your mother outside this building stuck in right before it. It was dated June 15th of that year, when she arrived in Brazil and was in the same student housing.

As you read your mother's account of her arriving at student housing, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were hearing her voice again. It was almost as if you were just on a trip and you were reading a letter she sent you. But of course, you weren’t just on any trip, and she was gone.

Your stomach grumbled, interrupting your reading, and you closed the diary. You sighed, wondering if you should venture out to find something to eat. You pulled out your phone and laid down on the bed for a few minutes while you looked to see if there was someplace close that sounded decent. However, jet lag took over, and you fell asleep with your phone in your hand, it falling and smacking you on the forehead some time later.

Fourteen hours later, you awoke to your phone alarm going off. You panicked. Was that the first time your alarm went off? Were you late for your first class? You hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, but that darn jet jag overcame you. Pressing your finger on the phone screen to silence the alarm, you were relieved to find that it really was just your first alarm. It was 7:30 am and you weren’t late, you had plenty of time. Which was a good thing because your stomach had upgraded from the light growling from last night to feeling like it was about to eat itself.

You had done your research before enrolling in the summer program and knew that the university offered a student cafeteria for meals that was part of the tuition fee. You assumed it was in the packet of information you received yesterday as well, but you hadn’t had time to look over that yet. You got dressed in a simple sundress, one that was classy and suited to the warm weather in Rio. You grabbed the book bag with all your class materials from where you placed it at the small table by the door and headed out of your dorm.

The lobby was bustling with others probably also headed to their morning classes. The university’s campus was only a short distance away, so you opted to walk although it looked like the dorms had bikes outside the building that you could borrow if you wanted to. Your first class didn’t begin until 9 am and you would have plenty of time to get there as well as get breakfast at the cafeteria.

You walked out of the dorm building and out to the cobbled stoned square. You paused to bring a map up on your phone, making sure you were about to head in the correct direction. You continued to walk on the brownish-gray stones as you passed by a few little shops before the cobblestones turned into a normal concrete street. You followed it up a small hill before you reached a large traffic circle with the main university building behind it.

Luckily there was a campus map just outside the doors to the main entrance. You looked at it, finding where the cafeteria was and also noting where the international building was for your class afterward. The cafeteria was teeming with students getting food, mostly breakfast at this early hour. You got in line and grabbed some sliced fruit and scrambled eggs, as well as some coffee. They had some items that were also common for Brazilian culture, but you opted to try those later when you were less nervous and didn’t have a class to attend right after.

You scanned your meal card at the checkout which had been in the packet of information that Mrs. Delgado had given you yesterday. You chose an empty table near the windows and ate your food as leisurely as you could before class. Your stomach was no longer trying to eat itself and all that remained was an uncertain feeling in the pit of it. You didn’t even know why you felt all this turmoil, but nothing felt right or even normal since your mother passed.

You placed your empty tray at one of the receptacles by the door and walked out of the cafeteria. You followed the path you mapped out earlier, leading to the international building. You had about 15 minutes before the class started, so you didn’t need to hurry. You looked around at the buildings on your way. The campus looked much like a normal campus but all buildings were made from stucco material and the main roads had a wave-like pattern in them.

You reached the classroom after a few minutes. The door was on the outside of the building and you opened it. Still being a bit early, there were only a few people in the classroom. You chose a seat in the middle, not too far in the front but not too far in the back. You sat your bookbag on the floor next to you, took out the textbook with your notebook and a pen, and set them on the table in front of you. A couple of loud students entered the classroom and you couldn’t help but look up at the noise.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The same boy who nearly ran you over yesterday was among the group. You inwardly groaned. Worse yet, when he scanned the room for a seat, he spotted you. You looked down at the desk, trying to hide your face to no avail. “Oh! It’s you!” He exclaimed, coming to sit in the space next to you. You kept looking in every other direction but his, hoping he would think you were actually someone else.

He didn’t seem to be aware that you were trying to avoid eye contact and continued to introduce himself. “Hi, I’m Soonyoung! I’m really sorry for almost running into you yesterday but I hope we can be friends since it looks like we are both exchange students!” Now you couldn’t help but stare at him. How could someone have so much energy and also be so clueless to your anti-social cues? Your brain was tired just listening to him ramble on.

You weren’t sure what else he was saying but it sounded like he asked a question. “-your name?” Oh, great, he was asking for your name. You contemplated not telling him, but he would probably annoy it out of you anyway. “I’m Y/N,” you responded, your irritation slightly bleeding into your tone. Soonyoung didn’t get to say anything after that. Luckily, the teacher walked into the classroom at that moment, clapping his hands to gain everyone’s attention and effectively cutting off any conversations happening.

The teacher, who introduced himself as Mr. Morales went over the class syllabus, and then you started in on the first chapter of the textbook which introduced the different sounds the Portuguese language had versus English. You avoided Soonyoung’s gaze the entire time but you could feel it on you. As soon as class was dismissed, you threw your belongings back in your bag and booked it out of the classroom before he had time to think about catching you.

You didn’t have more classes today, your other two would happen tomorrow so you had planned to take the somewhat long trek to see the famous statue in Rio, Christ the Redeemer. It would take you about an hour and a half by bus, but your mother had visited it, so you wanted to as well. You pulled out the bus timetable and map (one of the many things in the packet that Mrs. Delgado had given you) from your bag as you walked back toward the front of campus where the bus stops were.

You found the stop for the correct bus number and sat down in a seat under the covered area to avoid the early afternoon sun. The timetable showed the bus you needed would be there in about five minutes and once you got off it, you would have to decide if you wanted to walk to the statue or if you were going to take a tram.

You sat there watching students walk by as you waited, looking like they were having the best time being at school. You felt so out of place, questioning why you even decided to come here. Would this really make you feel closer to your mother, make you feel better about her being gone? You highly doubted you’d ever feel better about the latter.

You stuck your hand inside your bookbag, finding your mother’s diary and brushing your hand over the smooth leather surface. Somehow feeling the front of the book, touching a physical item of hers always soothed your thoughts. You knew you would continue feeling like you didn’t belong in a place as amazing as Rio, but you wanted to keep seeing what she saw and hearing her voice through diary entries, even if it was something you could only hear in your head.

The bus arrived, pulling you out of your thoughts and you got up to get on it. You tapped the bus pass on the pad at the front near the driver and scanned the bus. There were quite a few people on the bus but it wasn’t packed. You spotted a window seat near the middle and took it. The ride was kind of long but you had nice scenery to look at and the bus wasn’t too loud. You took some time to relax a little and soak it all in.

About an hour later, the bus had reached its destination. You had arrived at the bottom of a somewhat large mountain near the entrance to a rainforest. You looked at how high it was and at the statue at the top. You definitely were not going to hike that today, and opted to take the tram that was available instead. There was a little kiosk nearby where you bought your tram ticket and a schedule posted on the side that said the tram came every 5 minutes at this time of day.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long at all since you bought your ticket just a minute or two before the next one arrived. You handed your ticket over to the driver and got on the tram. It reminded you of those trams they had when you went to the zoo or something. The sides were open so you could feel the breeze as the tram climbed the mountain and you could smell the different plants and trees.

The further the tram climbed, the closer the famous statue got, and soon you arrived at the bottom of it. The tram stopped at the park at the top of the mountain that contained Christ the Redeemer. You got off the tram, in awe of how big the statue really was. You knew it was big, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.

Many people surrounded the bottom of the statue and there were no benches to be seen. You found an empty area on one side and decided to sit on the concrete floor of the platform. Looking up at the statue, you settled in your sitting spot and pulled your sketchbook and your mother’s diary from your bag. You opened the diary to the next unread page, dated a week later than the first. Another photo was stuck in the pages and you took it out, seeing another photo of your mother smiling, with Christ the Redeemer in the background.

June 21st, 1985

Rio has been amazing. I haven’t been here long but it sometimes feels like home to me. I feel like I belong here with all this incredible architecture. And guess what? I met a boy! I came to visit the famous Christ the Redeemer statue and he offered to take my photo with the statue. He was actually in the middle of drawing a caricature for another girl but dropped everything when he saw I was trying to take a photo of myself with the statue. I couldn’t help but swoon a little. I found out he studies drawing at the same university that I’m attending for the summer. And then he asked me out for dinner! I’m really excited to go on a date with him. Will this just be a summer fling or could it be more?

You took in this entry. Did your mom meet someone here? Was it your dad? You couldn’t help but be curious about this man and you wondered how far their relationship had gotten. Was he the person from whom you got your talent for drawing? You had so many questions and knew that those questions might go unanswered. For now, you opted to try and feel connected by drawing something yourself.

You took your sketch pencils out of the small pocket at the front of your bag and opened your sketchbook up to a blank page. Setting it in your lap, you looked around, deciding what you wanted to sketch exactly. Just the statue or the people surrounding it too? You decided to just sketch the statue to start with and fill in surrounding areas as you saw fit. You drew, looking up every once in a while to look at the small details of the statue.

One time you looked up and noticed someone busking close to the bottom of the statue a little bit in front of you. He looked cute from just a glance. He was dancing to a little boombox playing near him with a cup next to it, collecting any change people were willing to give. You looked closer and realized who the dancer was. Soonyoung. You sighed in annoyance. Was he everywhere? Was the universe messing with you?

You continued to draw, hoping he was too distracted by his busking to notice you. There were tons of people around, there was no way he could spot you among all of them. As you sketched your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn back to him like a magnet. His dance moves were sharp but smooth and you could see his routine completely consumed him. You kept taking glances while sketching.

You were finishing up the last few lines when you heard your name called. You thought he was too enthralled with his busking to notice you, but you were very wrong. He picked up his cup of change and his boombox and jogged over to where you were. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, stopping in front of where you were sitting and giving you a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Um, yeah. I decided to do some sightseeing and do some sketching,” you responded, a little meekly. You felt weird around him now for some reason. He was annoying in class earlier, but now he seemed different and you weren't sure what to think. He was still bright and energetic but not irritatingly so.

“Oh, you draw?” he asked, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m studying here this summer. Art,” you explained.

“Cool! I’m here for performance arts if the busking hadn’t given you a heads up already,” He offered with a small laugh.

He paused your small conversation for a minute to take a look at his change cup to see how much he had made today.

“Listen, if you are done with what you wanted to do today..there’s a nice cafe near the tram station and if you are hungry, I made more than enough money today so I’d like to treat you,” He rambled. It wasn’t exactly a question, but the way he said it was actually kind of cute.

You were hungry and you supposed it couldn’t hurt, right? “Alright,” you agreed and a smile stretched across his face again. You put your sketchbook, pencils, and mom’s diary back in your bag and stood up, brushing your pants off from any dirt that you picked up while sitting on the ground. Maybe you should take a page from your mom’s book and get to know Soonyoung a little more.

You both walked back down off the statue’s platform and down the stairs to where the tram would pick you up and take you back down the mountain and to where the cafe Soonyoung mentioned would be. Once again, you did not have to wait long for the tram to arrive and you both got on, Soonyoung sitting next to you.

You could feel the breeze again as the tram descended the mountain this time. You looked over to find Soonyoung looking out the other side quietly, the wind ruffling his hair lightly. He had the same smile on his face as earlier, making his face look strangely childlike compared to the manly confidence he had earlier while busking. You liked seeing the two different sides of him. It was cute. He could be quiet when he was by himself, a big difference from when he was with a crowd.

While you were busy staring at Soonyoung, the tram stopped back at the bottom of the mountain. “Y/N?” Soonyoung questioned, holding out a hand to pull you up from the seat.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, not realizing you had spaced out. You took his hand as he pulled you up, noticing how big it was. It felt nice, having your hand engulfed in his. You continued to hold on to it as you both got off the tram. When you both got off, you let go awkwardly, not wanting to give Soonyoung the wrong idea (even if you did really like holding his). You hadn’t even been on a date yet. He gave a nervous chuckle and just beckoned you to follow him.

You followed him down a few streets from the park area where you guys were previously, to a little hole-in-the-wall cafe that was surrounded by other shops and small apartments. It was small and felt homey when you walked in the door with Soonyoung. You waited at the front for a minute or two before someone came by to seat you. “Oh? I see you brought a friend today!” The waitress said before grabbing some menus and guiding you to open-air seating at a back patio that featured a small garden to the side of it.

She sat you two at a table and sat the menus in front of you. “I’ll be back in a few to take your order,” she said before giving Soonyoung a knowing wink.

“I take it you come here a lot,” you commented.

“You could say that,” he responded with a sheepish grin, “I usually make enough to come here each time I busk, so two to three times a week?”

“Two to three times a week?!” You were surprised that he busked that often and that he chose to come here every time.

“Yeah, it’s the only way for me to make some extra cash. I’m here through a special program so they only pay for my tuition and dorm fees,” he explained. You nodded. You were similar, except that you had your grandmother sending you spending money when you needed it.

You turned your attention to the menu, trying to decide what to eat. There were a lot of options but you decided to try a more traditional Brazilian stew called Feijoada. Something hearty sounded good after the busy day you’ve had so far. The waitress came by and took your order while Soonyoung ordered Moqueca, another type of stew but with seafood.

You made more small talk while waiting for your food to arrive such as where you were originally from (You: Chicago, Him: Seoul) and what types of foods you liked. You passed the time well enough that your food felt like it came out quickly. It looked amazing and your stomach confirmed how hungry you were by giving a small growl. Loud enough, however, to make Soonyoung let out a small giggle.

You start digging in when Soonyoung nervously broaches a topic. “So, when we were at Christ the Redeemer you mentioned doing some sightseeing. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into things, but it seems like it was more than just seeing the sights here.”

You put down your spoon and contemplate whether you want to open up to him or not. You sighed before starting your explanation. “You’re right, it’s not just general sightseeing. In fact, my mom is the whole reason I’m here.”

“Your mom?” He asked, prompting you to continue.

“Yeah…she um, died about 6 months ago,” you said, looking down at your stew like it was the most fascinating thing in the world at the moment.

“Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” Soonyoung frowned, his voice turning sympathetic and you swore his eyes had a sheen to them.

“It’s…okay. Or at least it’s becoming okay,” you responded honestly and then continued. “Anyway, my grandma gave me my mom's diary. One she kept while she was here doing this program with the university. So I decided to do it too and see all the same sights she did hoping it might make me feel closer to her or something? I don’t know.” You were rambling a little now.

“I think that’s neat,” Soonyoung said after a minute.

“You do?” You asked, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, I think it’s cool. You get to go stand where she stood and see the same things she saw with her own eyes. That’s definitely a good way to feel closer to someone,” He encouraged.

“It does,” you agreed.

“This might sound weird and I know we’ve only known each other a few days but would it be okay if we go to the places your mom did together?” Soonyoung asked. His eyes no longer had the sheen you saw a minute ago but instead held a mixture of empathy, excitement, and something else you couldn’t decipher.

Before you knew it, you found yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that,” you said, a smile starting to tug at the edges of your lips. Then you leaned over the table to give him a small peck on the cheek. He looked a little stunned for a minute but then he smiled back, a wide smile that showed his teeth and you had to admit he was adorable.

How could you go from being so annoyed by him to liking him a lot in just one day? You didn’t know but maybe your mom would have wanted this for you.

©️wooahaeproductions

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#seventeen fanfic #svthub.collab #kvanity #kbookshelf #svthub #hoshi fanfic #svt hoshi #kwon soonyoung #svt smut #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi smut

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audreyscribes · 7 months ago

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🔮 HECATE: Goddess of Magic, the Mist, Crossroads, Necromancy, the night and moon🌙

Author's note: Hello everyone! In lieu of posting the major gods demigod headcanons, here is the minor gods version!As usual these headcanons will contain what it's like being claimed and what it's like for the respective god and cabin, followed by a small story between you, the reader, and the respective demigod of that god. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! [PJO MINOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST] Disclaimer: To new fans or strictly TV watchers of the PJO series, future spoilers for the entire PJO series books will be referenced. Read at your own risk.

Out of the ‘minor’ gods, a child of Hecate is powerful and just as dangerous as a child of the major gods. As powerful as a child of Ares, Athena, and Apollo, but closer to a child of the Big Three.

When you get claimed, a rolling mist rolls in and you feel power sparkling at your fingertips. You always have felt the magical power within you but with this claim, it courses through your veins. The spell you cast at your claim is a tell-tale to your half-siblings what kind of magic wielder you are. One time, there was a child of Hecate who summoned the dead beneath their feet and everyone had a meltdown thinking it was another child of Hades until Chiron pointed out the claim symbol belonged to Hecate, and Necromancy is within her domain. Which can be utterly terrifying or cool. Just don’t actually mess with Death itself and stay in your lane, unless you want either Hades or Thanatos having a word with you; either or both. Nico di Angelo becomes a common sight around the Hecate cabin as he acts as a sort of liaison for his father’s domain.

Hecate’s domain is very broad and large, and you guys have a lot to figure out. Aside from magic, every child of Hecate has a mixed bag of what powers they inherited from Hecate’s domain. Some have others that others don’t. You have shared headaches with the children of Hermes, who are in a similar boat.

As cheesy as it might sound, your power is stronger at night and when the moon is out. Of course a full moon is when you’re at peak strength, but what people don’t know is that your powers can be at peak strength depending on the phases of the moon. This is determined by finding out what phase of the moon the day you were born on, and the phases leading up to that face you feel stronger but the phases afterwards feel less intense for you. If you were born on a full (and/or old) moon, well, more power to you. Literally.

While not all common, there’s a high percentage of children of Hecate being born in the evenings and night.

“With great power there must also come great responsibility” - Spiderman, Stan Lee. These words are similar to the Sword of Damocles, that Mr. D and Chiron tells you and the Hecate cabin that power cannot simply be enjoyed for its privileges alone, but necessarily makes its holders morally responsible for what they choose to do and what they fail to do with it. As a child of Hecate, with magic at your disposal, you have to work and study hard to control the magic and command it to your will, however it is a heavy burden to bear and magic can be not only bring miracles, but can take on a form of its own if their wielder isn’t convicted enough.

Along with magic, the mist is your next inherent power. You help maintain the mist between the world of the gods and the mortal realm; maintaining the balance. The power of the mist comes naturally to you and you can use it to create illusions or manipulate the veil over mortal eyes. However, be careful of it because if you mess with the mist too much, you might pull the mist’s veil over a mortal’s eyes too powerfully and affect their mind, distorting it; it’s cautioned to only manipulate the mist that is still tethered to reality. Worse, you also might get lost in it yourself; or worse find yourself between the borders between the living and the dead. Limbo if you will.

Hecate may seem a bit cold and solitary, but she does care for you. Especially after the 2nd Titan War, where many of your unclaimed (read: unrecognized by the camp) half siblings had perished during the war. You might get the occasional words of advice with magic, magical items, or what your siblings have collectively understood as vague magic teaching moments. You definitely feel her guiding hand when you command more magic that threatens to lash out at you, and you feel her hands guide you to mould the magic in a way you want like a potter’s hand. At least one thing is for sure, Hecate loves all her children equally…even including Lamia and Circe who are pretty hostile to you guys.

On that note, you have definitely performed a magic spell you’ve seen on TV, Book, Movie, or Game, and proceeded to tear it apart on how it should not have worked and how it should work before creating either an entirely new spell or an even better one. At the very least, you have a laugh and lead you into discovering and creating new spells.

You can use magic with your hands, but you could also use a wand or staff, or what have you. With wands though, it has never been easier walking around among mortals and spell-casting magic, and playing it off from certain franchises or being a very dedicated DnD player. The latter is very true and you have no shortage of LARPers.

You know the roles like “The Fairy Godmother”, “The Wicked Witch”, “The Wizard”, and etc? Oh yeah. Every child of Hecate starts to come into one of these roles and leans into it completely. What is yours?

You and your siblings have an awkward relationship with Lamia, who was a former daughter of Hecate, who became a monster, and is the reason why all monsters can find half-bloods. Sure it was out of spite at Hera for killing all of Lamia’s children, but like….really? You’re not entirely sure if you guys are safe from Lamia’s curse but on the other hand, given the amount of monsters you’ve encountered and the latest news from one of your half-siblings, Alabaster who was hunted down by Lamia from Gaea, it’s really up in the air. There’s a long research by all the Hecate cabin on how to break this curse or at least mitigate it.

When you get claimed, you feel the veins in your body growing both hot and cold, with power sparking wildly from your fingertips. The small well of bubbling power that had always been in you suddenly burst open and was overflowing, like the seal on it had been ripped off. Wind was kicking around you with the ground trembling and cracking under your power. You could see the mist rolling in and twisting around you with the wind, cutting you off from the outside world.

With what you could see outside it was utter chaos. People were running around doing damage control with a few brave, offensive demigods taking the front as they knocked away any flying debris and were keeping your magic from breaching the red zone as they batten down the hatches.

You weren’t sure what to do with this power but you couldn’t just turn the tap off either, you had to release it somehow. But just shooting raw magical power wasn’t desirable since the magic could take on the form of the cognitive power of those around you, whatever that was.

You tried to remember a spell you were familiar with. Something that was familiar to you that was almost as easy as breathing. You remembered it but the power of the magic within you was too much. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, the extension part of you had to move how you want like you were discovering growth pains, your limbs feeling almost feeling foreign to you. You tried to squeeze the magic into form but it pushed back between the gaps of your fingers like you took too much clay.

You started to breathe heavily as sweat clung and soaked your being, the strain becoming unbearable. Then you heard yelling as you felt something open beside you. Then you felt someone press up against you, hands grabbing yours that was also flowing with magic.

You gasped and looked at the person, seeing a girl with dark hair and with glowing green eyes.

“What-” you tried to say to say how and why she was here and that she shouldn’t be, but then before you could see anything more, she gripped your hands harder and you felt her magic flowing into yours, as if smoothing the gaps, helping you grasp your raging power.

“Do you know a spell?!” she yelled over the raging, howling wind.

You stammered to reply but nodded instead as she nodded back. “Alright! Use that spell! I’ll help you enforce it!”

You were confused but you could feel the magic about to explode soon so you pushed everything aside and focused on what was at hand. You remembered that spell from earlier, taking deep shaky breaths as you tried to manipulate the magic into a form. You could feel it oozing from the gaps of your fingers again but with the girl’s help, she smoothed it and followed your hands, shaping it with you.

You took form and you threw it in the air as the energy took on a form, taking the wind and mist with it. All tension in your body left you and disappeared with the spell , making you collapse immediately. You were out of breath and out of focus so you weren’t really paying attention to what was happening. All you heard was a boom, sprinkles, oohs and ahhs with gasps and peals of laughter.

From your starfished position on the ground, you heard feet crunching on the ground beside you and you peaked to see see the girl from earlier, hands on her hips with an exasperated smile on her face with a thin sheen of sweat; even she looked a bit winded.

“So that’s what kind of magic wielder you are” she commented, crouching beside you.

“What?” you tiredly said, confused.

She gestured to the air, “This kind of situation isn’t unusual for children of Hecate, even if yours is a little bit on the extreme side. Every child of Hecate that gets claimed has a spell that they have to unleash and we figured out the first spell they instinctively use is a good indicator what kind of magic wielder and person they are.”

“Oh” you uttered dumbly as you took in the open sky above you. The adrenaline was just dying down and your mind caught up. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you sat up and looked at the girl. “Wait, how do you know this?”

The girl grinned and stood up, holding her hand out to you as you clasped it. “My name is Lou Ellen Blackstone, daughter, head coven, and cabin leader of the Hecate cabin” she introduced herself as she helped you up.

“Oh…wait, does that mean-” you asked as Lou Ellen nodded.

“Yup, you just got claimed by Hecate which makes us half-siblings” she said as she patted your shoulder and helped you steady yourself as you headed towards the Apollo kids, “Let’s get you checked up just in case. Suddenly being able to have that much access to your magic takes a whole lot of you.”

“So this isn’t new?” you asked as a child of Apollo checked you over.

“Nah. While some children of Hecate can access their magic before they get claimed, when Hecate claims you, it suddenly feels like the cap on our magic is removed. Don’t worry too much about it, with some practice and integrity, you’ll get a hold of your magic soon enough. In the meantime, you have the entire Hecate cabin to help you.”

You smiled at the thought as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep due to the exhaustion.

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goodqueenaly · 11 months ago

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I know GRRM has given virtually no agency or interiority to Rhaella up to this point, and I’m not really expecting him to in the future, but I like to headcanon that Rhaella may have compared herself throughout her life to her ancestress Queen Naerys. (Long, more under the cut.)

This comparison may have started when Rhaella was a young teenager, on the cusp of her marriage to Aerys. Naerys, 15 at the time of her marriage to Prince Aegon, may have seemed to Rhaella of an age with her, somewhere roughly between the ages of 12 and 14 at her own wedding. While Naerys was far from the only teenage Targaryen princess married to her own brother - Rhaena, Alysanne, Alyssa, Helaena, Daena, and perhaps Aelora had all done so, not to mention Rhaella’s own mother Shaera - Rhaella may have looked specifically to Naerys to compare the unhappy circumstances of their respective betrothals. The young Naerys had shown no interest in Aegon or indeed any husband, preferring instead to become a septa - a fate forbidden by her father, the future King Viserys II. Instead - perhaps inclined to emphasize the Targaryen-ness of his own children despite the xenophobia against their Lysene mother - Viserys insisted that his two children marry, despite the lack of love on either side (not just Naerys but Aegon, who had already been separated from his mistress of two years, Falena Stokeworth). Rhaella had no known pious leanings herself, and it might be too far to assume that she had any deep romantic feelings for Bonifer Hasty (much less anyone else) based upon one show of public gallantry at a tournament, but she was certainly going into her marriage, as Naerys had, at the explicit direction of her father (though for far more prophetic reasons than were probably on the mind of then-Prince Viserys); what’s more, Rhaella might have compared her brother-husband’s obsessive desire for Joanna Lannister, soon to be extant upon the accession of Jaehaerys II, to the young Prince Aegon’s known lasciviousness going into his marriage to Naerys.

Indeed, Rhaella would have had cause to continue such a comparison during the course of her marriage to Aerys, not the least because of the latter’s very public infidelities. Even early in his reign, Aerys was being likened to Aegon IV, as the former “was exceedingly fond of young women, filling his court with fair maidens from every corner of the realm” and was even rumored to have “as many mistresses as his ancestor Aegon the Unworthy” (whatever Yandel’s skepticism toward such a boast). If Aerys likely never engaged in an affair with Joanna, and if he did not establish the sort of de facto maîtresse-en-titre position made infamous during the reign of Aegon IV, Aerys certainly had his share of extramarital liaisons, such that even Rhaella apparently commented on the king’s penchant for “‘turning my ladies into his whores’”. Did Rhaella, observing the king’s open, omnivorous desire for other sexual partners, think about Queen Naerys, who likewise was forced to watch her husband entertain mistress after mistress during the course of their marriage? Did Aerys’ lewd public jokes - most notably his remark about Joanna’s breasts - remind Rhaella of Aegon’s cruel and petty japes toward both his wife and his mistresses - as when Naerys asked to live as “brother and sister”, or when Barba Bracken complained about Melissa Blackwood’s apparent lack of a fuller figure? Did Aerys’ violent retaliation against his mistress in 274 AC, when the king tortured to death both the woman and the rest of her family for supposedly poisoning his infant son, recall for Rhaella the torture of Terence Toyne and the beheading of both Bethany Bracken and her father by Aegon the Unworthy?

Too, Rhaella might have found, as Naerys did, that a husband’s notorious infidelity did not protect her from either suspicion or suffering at his hands. Aegon IV had invented the accusation of adultery, and specifically adultery with Prince Aemon, as a means of hurting and humiliating Naerys as well as undermining the dynastic position of his hated son and heir. If the charge was patently ludicrous given the parties supposedly involved - not to mention the utter lack of scruple Aegon felt about flaunting his own affairs - Naerys nevertheless had to rely upon the martial skills of Aemon as her champion to publicly restore her good name. In turn, perhaps Rhaella thought of Naerys as she herself was accused of infidelity by her husband: Aerys’ declaration to the small council that he had determined Rhaella’s dead children were not his because “‘[t]he gods [would] not suffer a bastard to sit the Iron Throne’” may have smacked too strongly for Rhaella of Aegon’s attempt to identify Daeron as the bastard son of Naerys and Aemon, and if Rhaella did not have to literally fight for her life as a result of the accusation (or nominate someone else to do so), the queen may have nevertheless felt that her imprisonment - and the resulting public advertisement of her supposed lack of marital virtue - was not too far off from Naerys’ legal trial to the same. (Perhaps Rhaella privately mused on the irony of her husband shifting blame from his wife to his mistress, followed by his public recommitment to nuptial fidelity, after the death of Prince Jaehaerys, just as Naerys may have considered the irony of Aegon being confronted with his mistress having a sexual relationship with a Kingsguard after falsely accusing Naerys of the very same sort of affair.)

Moreover, however much Aegon IV and Aerys II sought sexual outlets outside of marriage, both continued to rape their wives for the rest of their respective lives. If Rhaella had not experienced the sinister twisting of a pious request for a chaste marriage into a demand for sexual gratification, as Nears had, she certainly had no power or authority to prevent Aerys from demanding sex with her whenever he wished. As Rhaella suffered the increasingly violent sexual encounters with her husband, did her thoughts turn to Naerys, forced to “perform her wifely duties for the rest of her life” in the euphemism employed by Yandel? Did Rhaella extend any bitterness toward Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, that ostensible paragon of chivalric heroism, who had stood by and apparently done nothing while his brother raped his sister - much as, Rhaella may well have thought, her own husband’s Kingsguard knights, publicly celebrated for their knightly prowess, stood just outside the door, consciously deafened to her cries and blinded to her scars? As her pregnancies ended so often in miscarriage, stillbirth, or death in early infancy, did Rhaella think of Naerys, who had lost her short-lived twins, the stillborn boy who was the twin of Daenerys, and the child whose birth cost the queen her life? When she gave birth to Viserys, after so many pregnancies that had ended in grief, did Rhaella compare herself to Naerys, who had also in her early 30s given birth to a second living child after multiple infant losses?

Too, on the subject of children, did Rhaella see any parallel between the hatred of Aegon IV for his son and heir Daeron and the increasing antipathy between Aerys II and his son and heir Rhaegar? The tense factionalism that Grand Maester Pycelle observed between the respective supporters of father and son may have recalled for Rhaella the similar divide between the anti-Dorne, pro-war, anti-Daeron proponents of Aegon IV and Daeron’s openly pro-Dornish faction. Indeed, the parallel might have seemed even more strengthened by that Dornish connection, as Rhaegar, like Daeron, had taken a Martell bride and counted among his supporters his wife’s uncle, Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard, just as Daeron’s greatest champion was his brother-in-law, the ruling Prince Maron Martell. If Aerys II had not gone so far as to launch a military attack against Dorne, as Aegon IV had tried (and failed) to do multiple times, his sniping, xenophobic comments toward his half-Martell granddaughter and graceless treatment of both Princess Elia and Prince Lewyn during Robert’s Rebellion reflected a king who negatively linked the Martells with the son he deeply suspected. If young Prince Viserys was as much the biological son of Aerys and Rhaella as Rhaegar was, perhaps the queen worried that Aerys would use her younger son the way Aegon IV had used his doted-upon bastard Daemon (especially as the age difference between each set of brothers was exactly the same) - that is, as an alternate or ostensible alternate heir, the better to undermine and needle his eldest son. Indeed, the king’s paranoid protectiveness of Viserys, and his separation of the bay from Rhaegar, only underlined the divide between the brothers, while the contemporary rumor mill even encouraged the idea that Aerys would set aside Rhaegar in favor of Viserys (much as Aegon’s infamous gift of Blackfyre to Daemon suggested, to some, the intent of the king to do the same with Daemon).

Naerys, of course, had not lived to see the First Blackfyre Rebellion, and in fact may never have witnessed the gift of Blackfyre to Daemon in the first place. Nevertheless, at the outbreak of Robert’s Rebellion, perhaps Rhaella found herself where Naerys might have been had she lived: a queenly eyewitness to a great civil war, wherein an aristocrat with a strain of Targaryen blood challenged (eventually, at least) her own son for the right to the Iron Throne. As Naerys, had she survived, might have seen the First Blackfyre Rebellion as the sins of her husband come back to haunt the dynasty - Aegon IV’s lasciviousness and hatred toward both his son and his son’s ideals, manifested in the person of Daemon Blackfyre - so perhaps Rhaella wondered if Robert’s Rebellion represented the sins of her husband returned to the royal family, as Aerys II’s cruelty and tyranny had driven Jon Arryn, Eddard Stark, and Robert Baratheon into open rebellion (however else Rhaella may have felt toward the rebel leaders and the rebellion more generally). Maybe Rhaella wondered if Naerys had been spared, through her early death, the pain she herself now had to undergo, watching her realm suffer the bloodshed and destruction of war thanks in no small part to the terrible reigns of their respective husbands (though of course we have no way of knowing how Rhaella felt about her son’s responsibility in the war, just as we cannot know how Naerys might have felt about Daeron II’s reign and the outbreak of the First Blackfyre Rebellion).

So in her last months and weeks on Dragonstone, not knowing that she was soon to share the ultimate fate of Queen Naerys - that is, death in childbirth - did Rhaella again compare herself to the queen a century prior whose life had likewise been full of suffering? Did she think of the death of her son Rhaegar as Naerys may have thought of the death of her brother Aemon (who had also died the year prior to her own death) - the violent sundering of a family bond (if not necessarily the removal of a strong champion for her), and the death of a family hero in defense of an unworthy king, leaving Rhaella isolated against her husband (who did not have long to live in any event) and the world at large? As much as Rhaella may have wanted to name her unborn daughter after the Targaryen Princess of Dorne in order, perhaps, to remind Prince Doran of their shared heritage (the better to seek rescue and an asylum for herself and her children), did Rhaella also remember the name “Daenerys” because Queen Naerys had used it for the daughter who might have provided a small personal comfort in Naerys’ latter years? As Naerys had lived to witness the extinction of the Targaryen dragons (caused, she may have believed, by her own participation in heretical incest), with power irreversibly shifted to the vassals of the crown, so Rhaella lived to see the extinction of the Targaryens as a ruling dynasty, royal authority handed to one of those very vassals.

#asoiaf meta #rhaella targaryen #naerys targaryen #rape tw

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john-laurens · 4 months ago

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Francis Kinloch & Miss Stephens

I've long been curious about a "Miss Stephens" mentioned in the September 30, 1776 letter from John Laurens to Francis Kinloch:

You seem to be in such high spirits at [Wr]iting the name of fair Miss Stephens, that I have a notion there is a Liaison de Coeur in question, if so I congratulate you both with all my Heart, I have not seen her a great while but shall see her with more pleasure than ever if she is to be yours_ … As the fair Lady abovementioned is advised to go to Italy for her Health, you will probably leave Genevé sooner than you intended; in case this does not arrive in time for your perusal at Genthod, I have directed Mr Hammond to find out your Address, and forw[ard] it to you_ present my best Respects to our Country woman and believe me yours. JL.

From this brief section, we can gather a few pieces of information about the mysterious Miss Stephens:

She was American and potentially from South Carolina ("our Country woman"). At this time, each of the American colonies were often thought of and acted more like individual countries rather than a unified group of states, so it's possible that Laurens meant that Miss Stephens was from Laurens and Kinloch's shared home colony of South Carolina.

She knew both Kinloch and Laurens (whether she met them in America or Europe is impossible to say).

She had some sort of health issue that seems to have prompted her (and Kinloch's) trip to Italy.

The relationship between her and Kinloch was so serious/passionate that Laurens was under the impression that the two would be married.

Of the surviving Kinloch-related letters from this time period, this is the only mention of Miss Stephens by name. I've searched through The Papers of Henry Laurens for any mention of a woman with the last name of Stephens/Stevens, but I haven't found anything substantial. I did learn that John Stevens, the deputy postmaster of Charleston, had a daughter named Eunice, but she was married to William Brisbane in 1768.

Interestingly, there is no surviving mention of Miss Stephens in the Johannes von Müller letters that discuss Kinloch's impending Italy trip. Müller implies that he was also planning on traveling with Kinloch to Italy, had circumstances allowed it:

I must ask you for advice. You know my destination for the summer. Next winter, either Italy or, without a doubt, Genthod. - Johannes von Müller to Karl Victor von Bonstetten, 1776 My friend K is going to Italy. It is difficult; but the North American war and my work, which would be too disrupted, prevent me from accompanying him. - Johannes von Müller to his father, October 10, 1776

Müller does make reference to a matter that delayed Kinloch's travels - this delay may have been due to uncertainties around finances and the recently started American Revolutionary War:

Letters from England have convinced Mr Kinloch to move his planned journey forward to the autumn. - Johannes von Müller to his brother, June 1776

Müller later makes a reference to Kinloch leaving in the fall, which aligns more with the Laurens-Kinloch letter:

Kinloch is leaving, when? I do not know, but certainly before the 10th October, for three days to Iverdun; I am not going with him. - Johannes von Müller to Karl Victor von Bonstetten, September 18, 1776

Even in these various mentions of Kinloch's Italy trip, there is no mention of the possibility of Kinloch meeting up with a woman or even rearranging his departure due to the health of a woman. I have wondered if this could be a sort of avoidant behavior on Müller's part. Müller seems to have experienced same-sex attraction, as made particularly clear by a fake love letter scandal (a former student put on a fake male identity and exchanged passionate letters with Müller in an attempt to defraud him). Müller also clearly expressed a deep love for Kinloch, so it's possible that Müller was jealous of or saddened by the possibility of Kinloch seriously courting a woman. Interestingly, there are a couple likely mentions of Miss Stephens in some letters from Kinloch to Müller, written after Kinloch's trip to Italy:

Mon americaine, as you are pleased to style the Lady I saw at Florence, n'est point de tout mon fait_ She "altius tendit," now whenever I marry, it w[ill] be some Woman who thinks She could not possibly have done better_ besides I know a poor man who is desperately in love with the Lady in question_ - Francis Kinloch to Johannes von Müller, May 16, 1777 If ever I marry any Woman, this will be my choice; for as to the Americaine I saw at Florence, il n’en est pas question_ - Francis Kinloch to Johannes von Müller, May 30, 1777

Here are English translations of the French and Latin (French translations provided by @my-deer-friend):

My American, as you are pleased to style the Lady I saw at Florence, it is not of my doing_ She "aims higher," now whenever I marry, it w[ill] be some Woman who thinks She could not possibly have done better_ besides I know a poor man who is desperately in love with the Lady in question_ - Francis Kinloch to Johannes von Müller, May 16, 1777 If ever I marry any Woman, this will be my choice; for as to the American I saw at Florence, there's no question of it_ - Francis Kinloch to Johannes von Müller, May 30, 1777

Presumably, this woman is Miss Stephens, as she is American and met up with Kinloch in Italy (both of these points were noted in the Laurens-Kinloch letter). This presents a very different picture of the Stephens-Kinloch relationship than the one presented in the Laurens-Kinloch letter. Kinloch traveled to various cities across Italy during his trip, and he seems to have only briefly met with Miss Stephens in Florence. It does not appear here that he made the trip to Italy with a large focus on Miss Stephens or her health, as Laurens's letter suggested. Additionally, there is finally an acknowledgement of Miss Stephens by Müller - and he seems to have perhaps encouraged Kinloch's relationship with Miss Stephens (or teased him about it). In the May 16, 1777 letter, Kinloch writes that the "Mon americaine" nickname given to Miss Stephens was not his idea but rather Müller's. Perhaps Müller had met her in Geneva prior to her move to Italy. And most importantly, we finally have an answer as to why Kinloch never married the Miss Stephens he was supposedly courting - she rejected him! Kinloch was apparently a little bitter about it. He quickly deflects by making a reference to his family's motto (altius tendo - aim higher) and is in disbelief that Miss Stephens could find a better partner than him. He also notes that there is some other "poor man" who loves Miss Stephens and may marry her - clearly he sees this man as a step down from himself. My opinion? Miss Stephens 1000% could have done better than Kinloch and was right to reject him. Way to dodge that bullet, girl. I hope you lived a happy, fulfilling life without him. Me in 2024 reading about Kinloch getting rejected ~250 years ago:

While we may never know much more about the mysterious Miss Stephens, it was great to finally get some closure about her relationship (or lack thereof) with Kinloch. Thanks to @my-deer-friend for help with the German and French translations!

#Get wrecked Kinloch #Francis Kinloch #Miss Stephens #John Laurens #Johannes von Muller #Johannes von Müller #Charles Victor de Bonstetten #quote

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handfuloftime · 9 months ago

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(A while ago @apurpledust mentioned wanting to know more about Duroc's children, so here's what information I have)

Duroc and his wife, Maria de las Nieves Martínez de Hervas, had two children, both of whom died tragically young. (Hervas left instructions that her gravestone should be engraved with "To the unhappiest of mothers".)

Their first child, Napoléon Louis Sidoine Joseph Duroc, was born on 24 February 1811 in Paris. Named for the emperor and his two grandfathers (Claude Sidoine de Michel du Roc and José Martínez de Hervas), he lived for just over fourteen months. The infant’s health was never good; Duroc wrote to Bertrand in March 1812 that “[Hervas] is doing well but her son has been and always is ill”. (As Duroc’s biographer Danielle Meyrueix notes, when writing of his wife and child he habitually referred to “her son” rather than “our son”. Perhaps not the most engaged of fathers.) Napoléon died on 6 May 1812 at Maidières in Lorraine. The architect Pierre Fontaine, noting in his journal that Hervas had asked him to design a tomb for her lost son, wrote that the child had been “a few days older than the King of Rome and destined to enjoy at that prince’s side all the favor with which the Emperor honored his father.”

Their daughter Hortense Eugénie Nieves Duroc was born on 14 May 1812, eight days after the young Napoléon’s death. (In a letter, Duroc implied that the news of the boy’s death had been kept from Hervas, who was in Paris, to avoid imperiling her health.) Named for her godmother, Hortense de Beauharnais, she was baptized in January 1813 alongside the duke of Bassano's daughter. After Duroc’s death in May 1813, Napoleon transferred the duchy of Friuli to her, writing to Hervas that Hortense would be “assured of my constant protection”. He also remembered her in his will, leaving her a large sum of money and recommending, in one last attempt at matchmaking, that she marry Bessières’s son, the duke of Istria. Hortense’s aunt wrote in 1823 that “Hortense is perfectly sweet, she’s a rare child for her spirit and intelligence, who her poor father would have been happy to see so fine in all respects”. She died of pneumonia on 24 September 1829 after three days of illness, aged seventeen.

A 1933 biography of Charles-Nicolas Fabvier (Hervas’s second husband) identifies this painting by Jeanne-Elisabeth Chaudet as a young Hortense Duroc. It was sold at an auction a few years ago with the title “Young Embroideress”, so either the sitter’s identity has been lost since then or it may never have been Hortense at all.

Duroc’s long liaison with the dancer Emilie Bigottini may also have resulted in at least one child. Felix Bouvier, writing a biographical sketch of Bigottini in 1909, claimed that “children were born of this irregular union, a daughter and a son named Odilon”. However, Odilon (full name Pierre Dominique Jean Marie Odilon Michel du Roc), born in 1801, was the son of Duroc’s cousin Géraud Pierre Michel du Roc, the marquis de Brion. On Duroc’s death, Napoleon made Odilon a page in the imperial household. (This may have given rise to Bouvier’s claim, as it seems to have confused people at the time. Caulaincourt had been tasked with sorting out Duroc’s affairs, including a substantial amount of money for Bigottini, and Duroc’s sister Jeanne implied that he had gotten the wrong impression from one of Duroc’s requests: “On the subject of the allowance for little Odilon, M. the duke of Vicenza was misled…he took a step which pained me very much”.) As for the daughter, all I’ve been able to find so far is a remark from Laure Junot that “It was known that the count Armand de Fuentès had had a daughter with Mademoiselle Bigottini, and that Duroc was in the same position”.

#duroc #maria de las nieves martinez de hervas #emilie bigottini #hortense duroc

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limetameta · 9 months ago

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I need tombraxas fics and your opinion on it

I'm about to go OFF under the cut so beware

If you're looking for HEALTHY tombraxas I can offer you the following:

TOM RIDDLE HATES SOCIAL MEDIA

Summary: They're in high school it's modern au, the most dramatic thing that happens is that they know Walburga Black in person, who's trying to be an influencer. This is the cutest tombraxas I've ever written and I love it so gosh dang much. They're just so soft with each other and they love each other like lovesick teenagers can. Tom is a lil repressed and scared because he's a foster kid and Abraxas is a nepo baby and that's bound to create problems, but Abraxas is just so SAFE for Tom.

TOM RIDDLE THE IT GUY

To this day I believe I've peaked with this writing and that I'll never write anything funnier. Take the Riddle era kids, age them up, and shove them in a no magic office au. I'm laughing as I'm writing this honestly every time I remember this fic I giggle.

NOW IF YOU WANT TOMBRAXAS AS KIND OF THE DRIVING FORCE FOR PLOT, BUT SEEN FROM AN OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVE MAY I OFFER YOU:

KNIGHTS AND (PRINCES)SES:

Voldemort Wins the 2ND WAR AU - Ginny falls in love with Luna, but parallel to them Tombraxas is out here being divorced toxic and learning to reconcile because Luna is Voldemort's favourite student and Ginny is Abraxas' favourite student. I like this fic a lot. MAINLY because I love writing Voldemort wins fics that make Voldemort depressed.

THE ARITHMANCY FIC

Trans Harry AU. Abraxas is SICK AND TIRED OF DIVINATION. HE'S GONNA GET VOLDEMORT AND HARRY POTTER TO FUCK OFF WITH THEIR PROPHECY BULLSHIT IF IT'S THE LAST THING HE DOES. Featuring Voldemort being very domestic with Abraxas.

NUMBERED DAYS

Every adult in Harry Potter's life has failed him as a mentor figure. Enter Abraxas Malfoy, who's like I BET I CAN SPEEDRUN my man Tom winning this war and not having him deal with Harry Potter - I'LL BECOME A PROFESSOR AT HOGWARTS! SECRET MARRIAGE TROPE, VOLDEMORT AND ABRAXAS DISS DUMBLEDORE FOR HAVING A GAY RELATIONSHIP LONGER THAN HIS ONE SUMMER ROMANCE ASS. Harry Potter is not harmed. Who knew that was an option???

SNAPSHOTS

This is a story of tombraxas as told through a series of moving photographs.

RUIN

The first time I ever wrote a fic with tombraxas in it (Abraxas doesn't appear, but Voldemort talks about how that peacock man can get it)

it's old 2016 writing tho so beware.

YOUNG SNAKES

Albus Dumbledore gets sorted into Slytherin and how this changes the course of his life. Tom/Abraxas are side characters but they're together and it's clearly stated in text.

TOM RIDDLE SR.

Tom Riddle Sr raises his son. His son is gay for the peacock man, but this story focuses more on the father son dynamic than on them.

SIBLINGS

Hermione time travels to the past and acts as Tom's sister. Tom is flustered by Abraxas lots in this fic and they are together.

NOW ONTO MY MORE EXPERIMENTAL WORKS THE ONE WHO BRINGS COLOUR

Voldemort dies as per canon but he winds up in a hellish world devoid of colour and his senses. As he travels farther and farther out and gains more of his senses, it isn't until he finds Abraxas that colour returns to his life. I like this fic a lot.

THE CHANGELING

Tom Marvolo Riddle (the human) is switched at birth with a fairy changeling. The Fairy AS TOM RIDDLE grows up in muggle london and goes to Hogwarts and has a liaison with Abraxas and becomes Voldemort and all that. Meanwhile Tom Riddle (the human) grows up in the Fairy world and fucks shit up for the Unseelie Queen. I like the prose in this one a lot.

AWARENESS

Voldemort and Abraxas in this fic are not endgame but they are together. Endgame for Voldemort is finally being happy and healthy. For Abraxas it's Minerva. The two of them are still very much clearly codependant on each other and very open, and they do fuck.

AND NOW!!! FOR THE CREME DE LA CREME, FOR THE OP OF ALL MY TOMBRAXAS FICS, THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE, THE MAGNUP OPUS OF MY AO3

RETIRED PROMETHEUS

FUN FACT: The very first fic Abraxas ever appears in my writing, the one that set the precedent for all the other Abraxas in my works FIRST APPEARED IN Retired Prometheus - the LONGEST TOMBRAXAS FIC WRITTEN ON FFNET AND AO3 to date. This fic has truly taught me so much about writing. These two in this fic are so deeply convoluted and yet in love with each other in a very toxis way. I adore them. I adore the messiness, the codependence, the nobody will ever love you as I love you, my love for you is monstrous, but that's fine, I'll love you with all of my monstrous being. Everything that you see in the fics listed above this one CAME as a direct influence Retired Prometheus had on me. This is the OG. This is the abyss that stared at me and had me churning out Tombraxas fics for YEARS. This is the, even though I'm a terrible human being, I deserve to be loved, too, and nobody can do it better than you, you, Hercules, who've come to rescue me from myself, from my punishment from the Gods.

#tom marvolo riddle #lord voldemort #abraxas malfoy #limeta #abraxas malfoy x tom riddle #tom riddle / abraxas malfoy #tombraxas

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

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AGENDABYMOONER'S DIRECTORY: CHARACTERS

NOTE: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE 400 FOLLOWERS! Oh my god. As I said, this was just some sort of self-indulgent blog but I am so glad to share my work with you. Thank you all so much for being there and to everyone who likes them so much they were more than willing to engage in my fangirl phase/behaviour/whatever. I am so glad I've entered the F1 realm all those months ago lol!

To remove all of the confusion to my work, here's a character directory 😭 I'm really sorry for that.

Letting you guys know that some of them may be in the same universe but they are not as heavily connected to each other (the only ones who are connected to each other more are The Alessandros and The Hearth Sisters - Trish is only connected in one thing and that's the Rush Wedding Special)

CHARACTER DIRECTORY

THE ALESSANDROS (rushverse)

LORELEI HESTER ALESSANDRO-RICCIARDO: Måneskin bassist. Also known as Lester Allie. Has her own set of fans in F1 as she’s an ambassador for Scuderia Ferrari. Is the middle child of the five kids. Daniel Ricciardo’s other half.

MC from Rush Series and its other extras (9 To 5, Wedding Special, Mrs. Ricciardo Special)

KARA ELEANORA ALESSANDRO: Second oldest sister of Lester. Also known as Nora. A businesswoman. She has a fashion brand. Has two children: Gabriele, 4 and Maris, 2 as of 2024. Divorced before Maris is born. Has been dating George Russell since February.

MC from His Family and Her Lover

JACQUELINA ALESSANDRO: Also divorced and has two sons: Franco, 8 and Andreas, 6. Also known as Lina. Is a model in Italy. She’s quite content being a mother.

NICOLA GRAZIA ALESSANDRO: born in 2000. Known as Cola or Grazie Nichols. An author who works for Tilly’s publishing company as an editor. Recently moved to London and is currently dating Lando Norris.

MC from London Boy and its other parts.

MATEO ALESSANDRO: The only boy and second to the youngest before Cola. He lives and breathes with his equally unhinged in-law, Daniel Ricciardo.

THE HEARTHS (rushverse)

TILLY MARIE FORD WOLFF: 39 Y/O as of 2024. The eldest Hearth sister. CEO of the Hearth Automotive Groups and the founder of The Wolff Publishing. She was previously a journalist and communications liaison but had abruptly made a change in her career path after purchasing half of the Red Bull Racing. She owns 20% of both Scuderia Ferrari and McLaren Racing, as well. She’s married to the owner and general manager of Mercedes team, Toto Wolff, and has three kids with him: Soren (age 8 as of 2024), Tia (age 5), and Adelmo (age 2). Her company does not fully associate with the FiA as to avoid rumours of bias and corruption within the Formula Racing community. Her net worth increased to 5.5 billion after her company sales skyrocketed.

Main character from Colour Me Your Colour series and its extra features.

STEVIE MARLENE FORD HAMILTON: 31 Y/O as of 2024. The second to the oldest Hearth sister. Head of Communications in Scuderia Ferrari and a supermodel with little to no time. Owns 10% of the said team with shares purchased under her investment company, The SMF Association. Married to Mercedes Driver Lewis Hamilton and has a daughter named Lottie. Has a net worth of $164.1 million as of 2024.

MC from Thick and Thin fic

SYLVIE EDSON FORD-VERSTAPPEN/HEARTH: 27 as of 2024. Executive Director of Red Bull Racing’s non-profitable kids/charity programs. Also known as the Wild Mustang or simply Blue for doing a donut in her mother's 1985 blue mustang convertible at the age of 10. Could have been F1’s first female driver since Maria Teresa de Filippis had it been for her expulsion in the academy. Known for her slight dislike for Christian Horner. Max Verstappen’s demise. Net worth is currently at $196.1 million.

MC from To Loathe and to Love series and its extra features.

AIMEE YAEL EDMUNSON: 25 as of 2024. Media Communications Officer of McLaren Racing. The half-sister of Tilly, Stevie and Sylvie. The only Hearth sister who doesn’t enjoy being in front of a camera. Works hard alongside Charlotte to keep Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris in line instead of wandering off. Had to leave from the 2024 season early due to her pregnancy. She’s currently dating Charles Leclerc and has two kids with him: a set of twins named Hervé and Jules Leclerc. Net worth is currently sitting at $91.2 million.

MC from Of Long Lines and Names

AMARA LOUISE EDMUNSON: Aimee’s mother. Businesswoman and owner of several businesses all across the globe - including luxury stores such as Harrods and Selfridges. She raised Aimee alongside Blanche and Aimee’s half-sisters. Much like a family, Amara would take the four as a whole when it comes to trips and thinks that Julius Hearth is a sad excuse of a father. Amara is Tilly, Stevie and Sylvie’s second mother.

BLANCHE CHRISTIE FORD (formerly Hearth): the youngest daughter of William Clay Ford Sr. and the mother of the first three sisters. Owns 30% of Ford Motor Company but doesn’t act as an executive chairman. She, much like Amara, is a grandmother to Soren, Tia, Adelmo, Lottie and the Leclerc twins and would rather be a stay at home Nan to them. Amara and Blanche co-parented for the four and spent nights drinking wine whenever the girls were out. Some had assumed that the two were “very good friends” but who were they to judge or assume?

TRISH ALONSO: Is a professional wrestler who was caught up in the F1 and WWE drama back in 2000s because of a certain Fernando Alonso. Now has kids with the said man.

MC from Heaven and its other parts.

NOTE that she is not as heavily connected to the Hearths and the Alessandros !!!

THE SAN PEDROS (rushverse) !

MAGDALENA SAINZ: Married to Carlos Sainz. A bit unhinged.

MC from Ride Home and its other parts.

PALOMA SAN PEDRO: Magda’s cousin who happens to be crushing on a certain Oscar Piastri (or the other way around?)

MC from Jollibee, Madrid and all the Romance Fiasco

NOTE: These lots are in the same universe as The Hearths and The Alessandros but they are NOT heavily connected to them.

VERA COPPOLA RAIKKONEN: Is married to the Iceman, Kimi Raikkonen, all while she had given birth to the loudest versions of him (and not drunk loud)

MC from Stop the World I Wanna Get Off With You

NOT heavily connected to the Hearths and Alessandros despite being in the same universe.

THE VETTEL SPECIAL

BELINDA HELENA ONG-VETTEL: 34 as of 2024. Also known as Bel Vettel. A billionaire who happened to be a celebrity, artist and a wife to a retired Formula One driver. She is considered a “Crazy Rich Asian” for growing up with money and her endless collection of Hermes bags that she seemed to treat as a fragile canvas. After years of trying and failing, she and Sebastian adopted a son named Kimuel, who was immediately addressed in the grid as Kimi Vettel. Some say that Kimi is a quieter version of Sebastian for his meekness and the sudden switch to cheekiness.

MC from Crazy Rich Wife and its other parts.

BARBARA ELISANDRA BLANCO: 25 as of 2024. Also known as Barbie. She happened to be 15 when Bel and Seb took her in as their foster child and continued to raise her as their own even after she turned 18. She moved to Switzerland with the Vettels after she was guaranteed a better life and opportunity to become a chef. She’s currently enrolled to study in Cesar Ritz College in Le Bouveret - which is a short drive every day so that she’ll have more chances to babysit Kimi, her two year old toddler adoptive sibling. Everyone thinks that she is dating Mick Schumacher, who would often make a visit to the Vettels home whenever he gets the chance. Mick obviously likes her, but does she?

MC from She’s Everything… And He’s Just Mick and its other parts.

ADA ABBOTT-BUTTON: Jenson Button’s wife who definitely made him work for two years straight for her attention. Is the founder of the organizations Arts for Youth and Arts for Kids

MC from the Mr. Darcy Type.

CARMELLA AYALA PEREZ: Miss Universe 2018 winner who happens to be married to a certain Sergio Perez and has two kids with him. Ambassador of Arts for Youth and Arts for Kids Mexico and Philippines.

MC from She’s Beauty, She’s Grace.

THE OTHERS (doesn't have any direct connection)

ALBERTINE PHILIPPA FRANCES SPENCER: Royally rebellious. She was born in 1996, months before her parents got divorced. She’s also married to a certain Mr. Esteban Ocon.

MC from the Royal Wildcard and its other parts

ENSLEY ZARA SOLEIL: Equally in love with Pierre Gasly despite having to make him work real hard for things.

MC from Newsflash and its other parts.

BORA McKINNON: Lance Stroll’s ex who happens to be a Kpop idol. Would probably get back together with Lance.

MC from Gotta Be You

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lesyoussoupoff · 5 months ago

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Letter to Princess Zenaida Youssoupoff from Grand Duchess Elizabeth dated June 14, 1908. Word had reached the Grand Duchess of the scandal involving Prince Nicholas Youssoupoff's liaison with Countess Marina De Hayden.

"My dear Zinaida,

For a long time now I have wanted to write to you and say that I am with all my heart and thoughts with you and with your dear son, poor boy, how he must suffer! I don't know the details at all and even the facts themselves, I won't believe anything until I talk to you, how can you trust gossipers who love to repeat all sorts of nonsense! The only thing that can help you is unanimous compassion and tender participation in your misfortunes, whatever they may be, this is always a consolation. People can love, but alas they also love to talk randomly.

Poor Nikolai, at this age, every disappointment, every blow in life takes on such large proportions and makes you suffer so much. Young people always cause so much grief with their mistakes. We know better, we have gone through our own school of joys and sufferings, and we have more strength.

How is your husband? Tell him that my heart and thoughts are with him. May the Lord bless and strengthen you, and may this grief be erased by the joys to come.

Your dearly loving Elizabeth "

#Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna #princess zenaida yusupov #Princess Zenaida Youssoupoff #1908 letter #Yusupov #Yussupov #Youssoupoff #Youssoupov #Count Nicholas Felixovich Sumarkoff-Elston

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thepaleys · 2 months ago

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At length the widower Grand Duke Paul would find consolation, but in the process he succeeded in alienating himself from most of his family. About four years after the death of his wife he began an affair with Olga von Pistolkors, the wife of a captain in his regiment and aide-de-camp to Grand Duke Vladimir. She had three young children, and soon after Paul was moved to a different regimental command to try and avoid scandal, she was expecting a fourth - but the father was not the captain.

In January 1897 a son was born and named Vladimir. The liaison was to make Paul a completely different person; he virtually cut himself off from his family, almost as if he was ashamed of having let them down. To all outward appearances he lost interest in Marie and Dmitri, stopped visiting Ilinskoie, and instead took Olga abroad for holidays. He had left his wife's clothes untouched since her death, but as if determined to sweep the past away and build a new life for himself and the mother of his youngest son, now he sorted them out and gave them away. Come what may, he was determined to marry Olga.

In 1900 he bought a house in Paris from the Youssupovs, and indicated that he was considering remarriage. Although the Tsar had been close to this gentle uncle, he who had found such happiness in his own marriage could not condone the behaviour of a senior family member whose adulterous relationship had apparently broken up another couple's marriage. If Paul did marry, he insisted, he would lose his position, his income, his right to live in Russia, and the guardianship of his children. As Paul's actions had demonstrated, none of this would be much of a sacrifice. For once, Vladimir was unequivocally on the side of the nephew for whom he had previously had little respect. He was furious with Paul for having stolen the wife of his aide-de-camp.

The affair between Paul and Olga was common knowledge throughout St Petersburg. Neither of them had any real enemies and their relationship was accepted without criticism by most, apart from the rest of the imperial family. It might have continued indefinitely, but for an incident which Olga had probably instigated in order to bring matters to a head.

At a ball at the Winter Palace she openly wore some diamonds which, it was well known, had been bequeathed to Paul by his mother. They were recognized by the Dowager Tsarina, who was outraged and promptly sought out the Tsarina, asking her to exert her authority to have Madame Pistolkors expelled from the ball. A chamberlain was accordingly given the task of asking her to leave at once. Next day St Petersburg could talk of nothing else, and Captain Pistolkors was faced with the choice of resigning his commission and leaving the army, or divorcing his wife. He chose the latter. Ostracized by society, Olga von Pistolkors fled to Italy.

The Romanovs 1818-1959 - John Van Der Kiste

#romanov #paul alexandrovich #imperial russia #imperial family #19th century #royalty #olga paley #grand duke #maria feodorovna #xenia alexandrovna #sergei alexandrovich #alexandra georgievna

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pokemon-xxy · 5 months ago

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Now that we're all older and hotter and more bisexual (or at least I am), could we try to reunite Katharine Isabelle and Kris Lemche for another movie? The Last Casino is an old favourite but those characters are young enough to be my kids now. I'm not picky but I have a few ideas:

Isabelle could really work a "plausibly deniable town witch" vibe in a faux-fantasy, sort of in the vein of The Good Witch or L'Arracheuse de Temps. Lemche is either the only person in town who believes she's really a witch, or the only person in town who doesn't.

I don't even like Stephen King but I sincerely think they would crush a new adaptation of The Shining (or a legally distinct riff on it).

Les Liaisons Dangereuses but set in modern Montréal, they're both obnoxious cutthroat tech industry transplants who are ultimately ruined by the local francophones they fetishize.

Literally anything, I'm not even joking that I would start watching the worst kinds of copaganda if these two were partner detectives.

I'm envisioning Kris Lemche as like a college professor type, who we're supposed to believe is set up for a midlife crisis and a manic pixie dream girl arc à la every bad screenwriter's self-insert schlock starring Paul Giamatti, but he turns out to be a normal and boring dude with a happy marriage that just looks sullen and strained to outside onlookers, much the same way the Addams Family is misunderstood by their neighbours.

#Katharine Isabelle #Kris Lemche #The Last Casino #Ginger Snaps

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lisa972kdlz · 9 months ago

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Le cœur a sa mémoire

Encore une analyse théorique à propos d'Underverse ! Plus spécifiquement à propos du personnage d'Error, son développement, sa personnalité et ce qu'il peut bien avoir en tête.

Quand on observe le comportement d'Error dans la série et qu'on le compare à celui dans son comic original, on se rend compte bien vite que ce n'est pas le même. Et quand on navigue à travers les différentes versions d'Error trouvables dans le Fandom, que ce soit dans des fanfictions, des comics ou de simples gags, c'est cette version d'Underverse qui y est retrouvée avec plus ou moins de nuance. À savoir un Error sérieux, grognon, tsundere et feulant sur la première personne qu'il croise. Et... Je ne suis vraiment pas fan de ce Error là, parce qu'elle est en mon sens moins intéressante et surtout amenant à des idées reçues qui filent droits vers l'autoroute du cliché. Pourquoi a-t-on cette image biaisée du personnage ? Est-ce vraiment incohérent et indigne de son intégrité ? Est-ce une mauvaise chose et est-ce que Underverse suit cette ligne de caractère ? Doit-on se limiter à se dire qu'Underverse n'est pas canon donc il n'y a aucune raison de critiquer de manière constructive ou même d'essayer de trouver des liaisons ?

Évidemment que non, car avec un peu d'imagination (et de philosophie), il y a (presque) toujours moyen d'assembler des pièces de puzzle pour donner une forme concrète ! Tout d'abord, dissocions la version Canon d'Error avec sa version Fanon.

Niveau personnalité, Error Canon tient plus du Collectionneur de The Owl House que du vampire-araignée Miguel O'Hara dans Spiderverse. Un Collectionneur détraqué et paranoïaque, mais tout de même. Il est bavard, souriant, discute sans trop de difficulté avec ses interlocuteurs que ce soit avec les créateurs qui lui posent des questions ou son prisonnier, Swap!Sans, ou cet étrange visiteur qu'est le Sans que possède habituellement Fresh. Bien loin du grognon renfermé sur lui-même et refusant tout contact humain. Dans le comic, ses réticentes sont souvent relativement maîtrisées, en tout cas, s'il fait du mal, il en revient très rarement aux Gaster blasteurs. Quand Swap qui lui fait un discours sur l'amitié complètement décalé, il l'abandonne certes temporairement dans l'Anti-Void pour lui donner une leçon, mais même dans la panique, il ne le tue pas et ne le blesse pas. Quand il croit se faire manipuler par Darkblitz8, il la balance en hauteur avec ses fils, mais rien de plus. Ensuite il se calme direct et remet tranquillement les mains dans les poches en disant : «Quelle fille sympa, j'adore me faire de niveaux amis.»

«J'adore. Me faire. De nouveaux amis.»

Oui, c'est Error qui dit ça, incroyable, non ? C'est dit comme une blague mais ÉVIDEMMENT qu'il est sincère, le bougre... Et ce pour mille et une raisons. Ce que je veux dire, c'est qu'il a, comme tout Sans chacun, plus tendance à cacher ses pensées derrière des blagues ou du faux second degré plutôt que de rejeter ou agresser les autres. Je ne dis pas que ça n'arrive pas, mais c'est une tendance.

Les seules fois où il sort ses blasteurs (hors destruction d'AU) c'est quand on lui fait un câlin surprise par derrière et quand FRESH débarque de nulle part. Donc c'est relativement légitime (mais juste relativement parce que y'a rien de légitime à exterminer son prochain Ú^Ù)

La version du Fandom et la version originale ont toutefois une chose en commun : Error est complètement anti-social, craintif des autres, et se hait viscéralement sans se l'avouer à lui-même. Mais la version "Tsundere" est hautement caricaturale, allant dans des tempéraments parfois opposés à ce qu'est Error ! On le présente froid, distant, incapable de ne pas gueuler quand quelque chose lui déplaît, etc. Mais en réalité il répond aux questions, accepte une poignée de main d'un inconnu et la qualifie même d'"agréable", il parle de ses goûts, il admet mot pour mot qu'il aime bien avoir des gens à qui parler, il concède à des demandes... Les seuls sujets sensibles sont à propos de ses problèmes personnels qui englobent Papyrus, Toriel et bien sûr, lui-même.

Mais il déteste les glitchs, non ? Les AU's, tout ça, il les hait ?

Oui, il les hait, mais il fait inconsciemment une dissociation entre la masse de glitchs informe et un individu. Quand il va détruire les AU's, ce sont des glitchs. Quand il rencontre une personne au hasard et qu'il commence à tisser un rapport humain avec une personne (Swap), il en oublie presque qu'il est censé le haïr.

Canon Error joue le méchant, mais en fait c'est une petite bête effarouchée en plein déni d'une solitude extrême et d'une haine de soi forte. Cela colle aussi à la version du Fandom, mais dans une sorte d'inverse incompris : non seulement il perd tout son côté glitché, imprévisible, paranoïaque et cauchemardesque, mais surtout il perd son aussi un côté mignon et enfantin, naïf, ignorant les références sociales comme le terme "ship", avec des goûts surprenants et une réelle envie de tisser des liens quand il sent qu'il peut le faire sans danger. Résultat, il perd cette dualité étrange qui créé une sensation de malaise, un mélange de peur et de d'attachement, car on sent qu'il a des émotions totalement humaines mais qu'il est trop détraqué pour pouvoir être vraiment ami sainement avec quelqu'un... On peut même difficilement le qualifier de pervers narcissique, car il a déjà fait preuve d'une vraie compassion et que même s'il accuse un individu de son malheur, il ne va pas leur dire directement ni les culpabiliser à propos de ça, il aura plus tendance à se les rabâcher à lui-même. Il est plus direct quand il est en mode "destructeur", cependant ça reste des accusations portées sur l'état de "glitch" des gens en un terme général. Non, ce n'est même pas un simple connard, il est juste... Fou. On en oublie qu'il est fou.

Également, quand il se sent menacé, Error va automatiquement entrer dans son rôle de méchant avec le rire sardonique et les répliques frappantes. La version Fanon, elle, va cracher à la gueule de la personne en exprimant sa colère. Elle est réfléchie, haineuse, patibulaire, rabat-joie et stable dans son caractère tempétueux. Bien sûr, il y a des fanarts et des gags où on fait ressortir le côté mignon... Mais ça reste très souvent des gags, dans les fanfictions et les comics, ce n'est que rarement montré et souvent anecdotique sans grande imagination...

Bon, je parle de la version Fanon depuis tout à l'heure, mais est-ce que Error dans Underverse a ce problème ?

Et bien...

Non ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠∵⁠ ⁠)⁠┌ !

Déjà parce que dans Underverse, c'est modéré et qu'il est présenté dans des situations où c'est compréhensible (la majorité de ses interactions sont avec Ink, son ennemi juré donc évidemment il va être sur la défensive), mais aussi, on le verra plus tard, parce que la série soulève un côté important de ce que Error est devenu au fil du temps, et le confronte à un ultimatum, où son statut quô part en éclats.

Je ne suis pas pour le fait qu'Error soit ultra agressif et froid dans les histoires en général parce que je trouve que ça le rend intéressant comme un rat mort, mais le représenter plus sérieux, intelligent et conscient du monde qui l'entoure n'est pas un mauvais choix. Comment l'expliquer ?

Et bien... Il a vieilli, tout simplement.

Le Error d'Underverse, et par extension du Fandom est un personnage évolué, revisité et expérimenté sous de nombreuses facettes. Il est passé du type qui fout la merde dans les AU's au «Destructeur», sa puissance globale également a augmenté car les fans ont vu son potentiel de danger, ce qui peut être un parallèle au fait qu'il... s'est tout simplement entraîné et endurci au fur et à mesure ? Rien n'empêche d'imaginer un futur à partir du Canon qu'on nous a laissé. Il accumule de la mémoire, tout simplement. Même le fait que Ink et Error soient ennemis, ce n'est pas canon, mais pourtant... Bah c'est des plus logiques, car à force de mettre les univers en danger, évidemment qu'il a dû se confronter au protecteur, au bout d'un moment !

Error a visité des AU's, s'est retrouvé face à des situations qui lui ont appris des leçons... Il a gagné en maturité. Bon, toujours un zéro pointé en maturité émotionnelle, mais il a tout de même mûri, c'est normal et c'est très bien. (Car si les personnages n'évoluaient jamais dans un monde ouvert on se ferait un peu chier quand même)

Cela dit, il y a un couac un peu chiant qui va venir foutre le bordel dans ce beau tableau...

C'est encore elle, Madame la fiche Canon ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧ !

Dans le Canon, canoniquement, en vrai de vrai de vrai... Error est incapable d'évoluer. C'est dans sa nature, tout simplement. Car c'est une "error".

Selon Crayon Queen, la fin du Comic d'Error aurait dû se dérouler ainsi : Swap!Sans, à force d'être exposé à l'Anti-Void, devient à son tour une error, un être erratique et détraqué dont le trait de caractère et la mémoire se disloquent, se déforment. Il garde tout de même son caractère positif et héroïque, cela n'en fait pas un méchant, mais il restera imprévisible et difficile à suivre, donc dangereux. Error se sentira horriblement mal à propos de ça et sera même confronté à une profonde culpabilité qui le convaincra de le laisser partir. "Blueberror" sera ensuite guidé dans l'Oméga Timeline par Core Frisk où il ira habiter. Et Error se retrouvera à nouveau seul dans l'Anti-Void, seul dans un néant blanc, seul au milieu du Tout. Au fur et à mesure il oubliera toute cette expérience et redeviendra celui qu'il était avant sans aucune remise en question, car telle est la destinée des errors. Des choses corrompus sans espoir de salut.

Oui c'est tragique mais c'est comme ça ! Et Passive!Night est mort, va falloir vous y faire !

(Jamais ! QwQ)

Bon ! (*Se frotte les mains) Et si on essayait de passer entre les mailles du filet et de contourner cet élément somme toute contraignant, tout cela dans le respect du personnage et de son univers ?

Allez, on se lance ?

C'est parti !

Donc, pourquoi Error perd la mémoire ?

Parce que c'est une error, d'accord. Mais cela fait-il tout ? N'y a-t-il pas d'autres facteurs remarquables qui lui font oublier ?

Déjà, l'exposition continue à l'Anti-Void, où habiter amène à des conséquences néfastes. Pour expliquer pourquoi, j'avais émis la théorie qu'étant l'inverse du Void, c'était le Noyau du Multivers, aussi appelé le grand Tout, là où les codes se croisent et s'agglomèrent. –J'ai fait des recherches entre temps et la Doodlesphère ne peut pas vraiment être un Noyau, car c'est la dimension "privée" de Ink. C'est une zone vide (peut-être un AU vide qui est reconnaissable de part sa nature de néant blanc ou crème sans toutefois correspondre aux propriétés de l'Anti-Void) où le peintre a regroupé des sortes de liens pour accéder aux AU's. C'est un peu comme un Doc document personnalisé avec des milliers d'adresses URL, mais pas un Cœur.–

Exposés trop longtemps à l'Anti-Void, certains de nos codes finissent par fusionner à la dimension; on en perd, on en reçoit, tout cela jusqu'à faire de nous des errors, un peu comme dans une dissolution lente. La mémoire en est évidemment affectée. Au moment de la transformation, mais peut-être aussi en continuant d'y être exposé ?

Et si on n'adhère pas à cela, il y a aussi le fait que, bah... C'est un néant. Blanc. Sans vent, sans chaleur ou froideur, sans matière réellement palpable. ÉVIDEMMENT qu'il provoque une altération sur le cerveau et la mémoire. Si Error quittait l'Anti-Void pour un endroit moins... Glauque, on peut facilement imaginer que son amnésie continuelle serait moins sévère.

Et enfin, dernière raison et la plus importante...

C'est qu'Error est seul et qu'il se fait chier.

Et là on va faire un peu de philosophie, car la philosophie du vrai monde est la science de la fiction.

Qu'est-ce que la mémoire ? C'est, grossomerdo, le regroupement de nos souvenirs, enregistrés par une prise de conscience d'un moment qui fut présent mais qui est désormais passé. À ne pas confondre avec le support de stokage : il y a plein d'informations enregistrées par le cerveau dont ont ne peut se souvenir (dans le cas d'Error c'est très certainement détraqué aussi, du moins en partie).

Les conditions d'un souvenir sont les suivantes : exercer une fixation sur un objet, une situation ou une personne afin d'en prendre conscience. Réfléchir permet cet enregistrement car réfléchir est une prise d'initiative amenant à une interruption d'un flux de pensée pour considérer une pensée précise; penser qu'on a eu cette pensée. C'est comme un ordinateur, il y a plein d'images enregistrées à l'intérieur mais tu n'y auras pas accès, ou difficilement, si tu ne songes pas à les imprimer en format physique. En tout cas, pour avoir un souvenir, il faut un déclencheur, quelque chose qui nous rattache à la réalité et qui nous fasse dire : ça je le retiens.

Et Error n'a pas ça. Sa vie en tant qu'anomalie n'a rien de mémorable. Il est seul, tout le temps, dans un néant où il ne se passe rien, où il n'y a rien de beau. Un souvenir n'est un souvenir que si l'on a conscience d'un passé et d'un présent. Mais l'Anti-Void n'a ni jour ni nuit, ni horaire, pas de réel temps. Et les seules fois où Error sort, c'est pour aller tuer des masses de personnes dont il ne se soucie pas et qu'il ne considère même pas comme des êtres vivants. Il ne s'intéresse pas aux AU's qu'il détruit. Si on devait faire un album sur ses souvenirs de vacances... Ça se limiterait à couture, dodo, Undernovela, destruction, conversation avec des personnes imaginaires (ses poupées ou même nous), Outertale, couture, dodo.

Il est seul et il se SENT seul. Si seul qu'il entend des voix dans sa tête, si seul qu'il parle à ses propres poupées. Il a besoin des autres. On peut même supposer, dans le Canon tout du moins, qu'il a un caractère extraverti.

Oui, je viens de dire qu'Error était extraverti, et ça fait extrêmement bizarre 😅

Mais en vrai, c'est pas déconnant. Un caractère extraverti est défini par la manière dont la personne se ressource. Introverti, en étant seul, extraverti, en voyant des gens. On peut parfaitement être extraverti ET être asocial et anti-anti-anti-anti-antisocial. Et là tu l'as un peu dans le cul.

Je ne fais aucune affirmation, ce que je vois c'est qu'Error a une certaine aisance pour s'exprimer et parler de lui (tant que cela ne tient pas de ses problèmes) et qu'il est assez bavard. Mais bon, peut-être qu'il est quand même autre chose, intro ou ambi, parce que dans sa condition de solitude absolue, N'IMPORTE QUI aurait un besoin immense d'être avec d'autres personnes.

D'ailleurs, vous ne trouvez pas que dans son comic, plus il cohabite avec Swap, plus il est logique, stable et réfléchi ? C'est l'expérience qui s'accumule. C'est la mémoire qui agit. Car avec Swap, un ami, enfin, il peut retenir ce qu'il se passe et se rendre compte du temps qui passe. Quand il apprend le tricot avec lui non sans peine, quand il regarde Undernovela avec lui, quand il répond aux questions des créateurs avec lui, etc.

Ce n'est qu'après que Swap soit parti qu'Error réitère à se refermer sur lui-même, laissant l'Anti-Void le dévorer à nouveau.

Pour avoir une mémoire, Error a besoin de sortir un peu plus de l'Anti-Void ET d'avoir un visage, quelqu'un qu'il peut voir couramment afin de lui rappeler ses expériences passées. Et qui remplit parfaitement ce rôle dans le Fandom, je vous le donne en mille ?

Ink.

C'est sans doute la relation non-canon la plus solide du Multivers d'Undertale. Ses échanges avec Ink, que ce soit un affrontement, un dialogue tempétueux ou un délire à la con, toutes ces petites interactions contribuent à tisser un lien affectif entre les deux némésis.

Que les fans développent ça en rivalship, en bromance ou en romance, qu'importe, ÉVIDEMMENT qu'Ink est très important à ses yeux.

ÉVIDEMMENT qu'il le voit, d'une manière assez tordue, comme un ami.

Car c'est le SEUL rapport humain stable à long terme qu'il a. Et l'unique moyen de conserver ce lien est de continuer à détruire encore et encore pour attirer son attention, et peut-être même l'attention d'autres personnes. Et étant donné qu'il est incapable d'être sain avec qui que ce soit, car ayant une trop grande haine de lui-même et une trop grand peur des autres, quel meilleur moyen de montrer son attachement de part un "Je te hais ?"

Je vais vraiment utiliser une référence à la con, mais Error a un peu une mémoire de Dory. Elle oublie tout au fur et à mesure, mais à partir du moment où elle rencontre Marin, elle oublie de moins en moins. Elle a juste à voir son visage et elle se souvient de tout ce qu'ils ont vécu. Et elle a peur qu'il s'en aille et qu'il la laisse encore une fois toute seule, car elle ne veut pas oublier à nouveau.

Et si c'était ça dont Error avait peur dans Underverse, quand Ink le "délaisse" pour aller jouer avec X-Gaster ? Et s'il avait peur qu'en le perdant, toute le cheminement qu'il a accompli jusque là disparaisse en fumée ?

Ink est la mémoire d'Error. C'est très ironique.

Et puis, cerise sur le gâteau, Ink a énormément de points communs avec lui : confrontés à une solitude extrême dans un néant blanc, perte de mémoire, ignorance de l'état conscient des êtres autour d'eux... Ink exprime cette souffrance par une envie de protéger et Error par une envie de détruire (c'est super bien expliqué dans CE comic dont vous trouverez le lien plus bas, validé par la créatrice, je vous le conseille !). N'est-ce pas l'ami parfait ? Ce qui est drôle c'est que dans Underverse, les rôles "s'inversent". Ink est prêt à tout détruire tandis qu'Error est prêt à faire n'importe quoi pour sauver l'attention qui lui reste. Bon, il détruit les AU's, mais il s'en fout des AU's, c'est Ink qui l'intéresse. Il en avait l'occasion depuis le début, mais il a attendu. Parce que ses combats avec le peintre et son statut quô sont importants pour lui.

Si ça, ce ne sont pas deux fous marchant sur de la lumière, je ne sais pas ce que c'est.

D'ailleurs, j'extrapole à fond, mais imaginez que la dimension île au milieu de la mer cheloue avait été réquisitionnée par Error pour être son nouveau repaire justement parce qu'il en avait marre de l'Anti-Void et des pertes de mémoire que cela lui causait ? Peut-être qu'étant en trêve avec Ink, il n'a plus senti le besoin de se protéger de lui en restant dans l'Anti-Void (puisque Ink a une grande peur des espaces blancs ça lui fait un bon repaire) et il a pu y emménager ultérieurement. Après tout, les seules fois où on le voit dans l'Anti-Void, c'est quand Ink l'y renvoie à coup de pied aux fesses et dans la 2ème Xtrascène où il roupille. Comme s'il cuvait son vin ou un truc du genre, comme s'il y était retourné sous le coup d'une envie virulente de tout oublier à nouveau par frustration de voir Ink s'amuser sans lui. Vous n'avez pas remarqué que les poupées et le pouf dans lequel il s'asseoit n'existent que dans son rêve ? Et que quand il se réveille, il est par terre, sans rien autour ? Pourquoi il n'a pas dormi dans son pouf ? Comme s'il avait vraiment déménagé ses affaires, sauf les âmes vu qu'elles sont mieux gardées de Ink dans l'Anti-Void. Le pouf n'est pas sur l'îlot dans l'Xtra scene 1, mais il y est dans le Comic the Truce, Error l'a déplacé. Si ça se trouve il s'est vraiment cassé de l'Anti-Void et il ne s'en sert plus que comme répertoire à âmes ? Tout cela pour... Arrêter d'être fou ? Vivre à peu près normalement ? Prendre conscience de son être et... Être, tout simplement ?

Très capylotracté mais j'adore cette théorie xD

Et je pense aussi qu'Error ne voit pas Ink que comme un outil ou un moyen. À mon avis il pense vraiment que les deux ont une relation spéciale. Parce qu'il a un penchant romantique, ça se suggère avec son passé de Sans, son goût pour Outertale et le fait de regarder une série à l'eau de rose avec un ship où sa version alternative et la version alternative de la femme qu'il a aimé sont dans une relation incomprise et interdite, parce qu'il a peur mais aussi envie d'être aimé dans le fond étant donné qu'il est lui-même incapable de se donner de l'amour propre, parce qu'il montre une frustration intense quand Ink ne lui montre pas que c'est réciproque...

Et parce que RIVALSHIP ! Ça collerait trait pour trait à la relation Joker/Batman dans le film Lego Batman et que je trouve ça GÉNIAL !!! (*secoue la tête de fan-girling)

(Je ne sais pas si Jakei va partir sur ce que j'ai de développé mais peu importe ce qu'elle fait ce sera quand même super génial, je ne m'en fais pas pour ça ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧ !)

Error appartient à @loverofpiggies

Ink appartient à @comyet

Underverse appartient à @jakei95

#undertale au #error sans #undertale multiverse #théorie underverse #underverse #undertale français #ink sans #anti void #analyse du lore #théorie underverse français #rivalship

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