#player lineage

[padraigshomebrewworkshop]

Ancestry: Heraldic (V0.2)

Been missing for a bit. Sorry about that, work has been quite draining. Doesn't help that they moved me from closing to opening with little notice. Anyways, here is a bit of an update to my Heraldic ancestry. The major changes are to the Flyer option for Chimeric Form, a change to the speeds provided by Chimeric Form, and more concrete lore for what they are.

Flavor: Heraldics are quite the mysterious ancestry, for quite a few reasons. The most glaring one is their sudden appearance in a community or family, seemingly with little explanation. A child would be born with little to no sign of them being of this ancestry, with perhaps some bizarre looking eyes or an unusual birthmark being one of the few subtle signs. However, as they grow they begin to change. They begin developing more animalistic and celestial features, eventually bearing very few features that would identify them as their parents ancestry by the time they reach maturity.

As to why this is, there is only one common feature among all Heraldics: in the past, their community or ancestors were under the protection of a powerful celestial, most often known as a Heraldic Beast. These celestials were sent by a divine being to protect a family or community, tying themselves body and soul to their wards. The divine influence provided by their presence seems to spur the birth of Heraldics, though this seems largely unintentional. It also seems that the birth of Heraldics is more common among communities whose divine protector died in service to them. Religious scholars believe that this may signify that the Heraldic Beast still protects its wards even after its death, manifesting its essence in those born into their group as a way to continue its duty.

Appearance: Heraldics end up looking very similar to the Heraldic Beast that influenced their birth, though obviously more humanoid. Though at first they tend to resemble their parents ancestry, slowly changing until their transformation culminates at what would be considered maturity for their ancestry. This "awakened" form is obviously very different for most Heraldics, as they take after their specific Heraldic Beast. Some may resemble a Tabaxi with vestigial bird wings or a humanoid shark with lions claws, it all depends on the influencing Heraldic Beast. There are some commonalities though, such as fur and skin (or equivalent) that possess colors outside of the natural ranges for the equivalent earthly beasts that they resemble or their pupils possessing a pin prick of light at their center, often glowing brighter when they use their apotropaic power. Their appearance changes further as they grow in power, often looking exactly like the divine guardian that spurred on their transformation.

Creature Type: Humanoid

Size: Medium or Small, based on the ancestry you would be if not a Heraldic

Speed: 30 ft.

Age: Heraldics age the same way their parents ancestry would up until they reach maturity. At this point, they tend to age much slower, often reaching double what their parents ancestry would typically be expected to live.

Natural Weapon: You possess a natural weapon associated with one of your beastly components, such as claws or horns. Your unarmed strike becomes 1d6 + Strength for damage and can be either Bludgeoning, Piercing, or Slashing (you choose at character creation). When you gain another Chimeric Form option, you can choose another one of the provided damage types to be an option when you make an unarmed strike with this feature, representing another natural weapon manifesting with your further development.

Chimeric Form: Choose one of the following options, representing the beastly component that first fully manifested. You choose another option at 3rd and 5th level. You can choose an option twice, with it becoming more powerful in certain ways:

Aquatic (shark, dolphin, plesiosaur, etc.): You gain a swimming speed equal to half your walking speed and can hold your breath for 1 hour. If chosen again, the swim speed equals your walking speed and you can breath both air and water.

Flyer (hawk, butterfly, pterosaur, etc.): When you fall at least 10ft and you are not restrained or incapacitated, you can spread your wings as a reaction and glide a number of feet equal to half your walking speed and take no falling damage when you reach the ground. This reaction can be sustained each turn by using up your reaction. If chosen again, you gain a flying speed equal to your walking speed and you don't provoke opportunity attacks when you fly out of range of an enemy.

Agile (leopard, rabbit, velociraptor, etc.): You add an additional 10ft to your walking speed and you have advantage on saves against being knocked prone. If chosen again, you gain a climbing speed equal to your walking speed and can add half your walking speed when making a running long or high jump.

Sturdy (elephant, tortoise, ankylosaurus, etc.): Your hit points maximum increases by 1, and increases by 1 again each time you level up. You also count as one size larger when determining carrying capacity and the weight you can push, drag, or lift. If chosen again, your hit points maximum increase by 2 instead of 1 each level up and you have an AC of 13 + Dexterity when unarmored.

Nocturnal (owl, cat, troodon, etc.): You gain 60ft of darkvision and can take the Hide action as a bonus action when obscured by dim light or darkness. If chosen again, your darkvision increases to 120ft and you gain 10ft of blindsight.

Burrower (mole, fox, thrinaxodon, etc.): You gain a burrowing speed (loose earth only) equal to half your walking speed and have 10ft of tremorsense. If chosen again, the burrowing speed equals your walking speed and you can now burrow through unworked stone.

Apotropaic Presence: When you are targeted by an attack or forced to make a save by an aberration, fey, fiend, or undead, you can use your reaction to make that creature roll at disadvantage for that attack or make yourself roll at advantage if they force you to make a save. You can do this an amount of times equal to your proficiency bonus per long rest.

Heightened Senses: You gain proficiency in either Perception or Survival.

Again, feedback is welcome and encouraged! As for what's next, I have plans for another subclass and for an actual stat block for Heraldic Beasts. Stay tuned!

#d&d #dnd #homebrew #player ancestry #player lineage #player race

[hollowedkingdoms]

Hello! This is not Hollowed Kingdoms related, but a more personal post from the Creator (me, Winona). If you like what I am writing and creating here on Hollowed Kingdoms, it would be appreciated if you could support me as a Lineage Expansion for Daylite Publications just got published that I wrote for.

I not only wrote on expanding on the lore of the Dwarn, but also created a new Great Being for the lineage. This is a really cool system and the people who work at Daylite are also really cool and you should check them out!

#ttrpg #Daylite #Daylite publication #Dwarn #player races #Playable lineage #writing #if can please buy

[sawyarts]

His Legacy

#kingdom hearts #khdr spoilers #khdr #xehanort #ugh i miss player reincarnation xeha but eph lineage xeha is also good #sawyart

[we-r-loonies]

there is something poetic to be said about regulus black and draco malfoy.

two perfect sons who are put in the middle of a war, because of their pureblood lineage.

two slytherins who fall for clumsy, dark-haired gryffindor quidditch players. two blacks falling for two potters.

the lion's heart, and the dragon.

perhaps that is why narcissa protects her son so fiercely. she sees her cousin's soul reflected in his eyes.

#marauders #the marauders #regulus black #draco malfoy

[reiding-writing]

Cold!reader accidentally letting a laugh slip after someone tells a joke (preferably Spencer) and the team is just a little shocked

CHECKMATE [ONESHOT]

/ˈtʃɛkˌmeɪt/

morgan and spencer just cannot agree on whether or not chess is actually a fun game to play, dragging you and emily into their debate in hopes of gaining a majority vote.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, playful arguing, chess slander

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 1.1k || series masterlist!!

a/n: do people actually like chess? personally i think it’s really fun but my brother seems to disagree

main masterlist!!

“You play chess in your spare time Reid, at least my hobbies are interesting,” Morgan rolls his eyes with a laugh, leaning against the back of his chair with a confident smirk on his face.

“Chess is interesting,” Spencer furrows his eyebrows slightly at Morgan’s comment, frowning like it was a direct insult to him and not just the game.

It was nine o’clock in the morning, and Spencer and Morgan were having a debate about goddamn chess. What did you do to deserve such torture first thing on a Monday?

Letting Spencer sit opposite you probably, but sometimes he’d basically do your work for you so you suppose it still had its benefits sometimes.

Sometimes being the key word.

Today was not one of those times.

“Interesting to eighty-year-old scholars maybe,” Morgan scoffs at the mere idea that chess could be a fun and intellectual game at the same time.

You didn’t mind chess per se, you wouldn’t choose it as a way to satiate your boredom, but if someone - that someone being Spencer Reid because he was the only one in the office who actually played chess regularly - asked to play a match with you, you wouldn’t turn it down.

“Actually, the average age for competitive chess players is thirty one in the United States,”

Morgan presses his middle finger against his nose bridge like he’s pushing up an imaginary pair of glasses, pointing the index finger of his other hand upwards. “Actually-”

Spencer serves him with a hard push against his shoulder. “Shut up-”

The movement causes Emily to give a little snicker from her own desk, and Morgan takes it as a sign of his victory, clasping his hands together and bringing them to rest behind his head as he crosses his left ankle over his right knee.

“Alright, chess consensus, ‘fun’ or boring?” Morgan throws his arm out to you and Emily as a gesture for your responses.

“Not for me,” Emily’s answer, whilst definitely leaning in Morgan’s favour, is objective enough so that it doesn’t unintentionally insult Spencer’s entire lineage by suggesting that chess can’t be fun.

“Alright, Ice Queen, final vote’s up to you, you can make or break the final verdict here,” Morgan tilts his head dramatically in your direction with his hands outstretched.

You look up from your desk with an exasperated sigh, looking at him through your eyebrows in a clear indication that you don’t want to be involved in the conversation.

“Awe come on don’t look like that, this is very important stuff here,” Its like every word that leaves Morgan’s mouth is just to poke fun at Spencer’s love for playing chess, and as you glance in his direction you can see his eyes on you.

He wanted the answer too. Great.

With an exaggerated groan you lean back in your chair and shrug your shoulders. “It’s fun depending on who you play it with,”

“Oh come on, what kind of half-assed answer is that?” Morgan shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You gotta pick a side here,”

“I’m entirely right,” You mirror Morgan as you cross your arms over your chest. “If you have a shit opponent then obviously it’s going to be boring,” You enunciate your answer as if it applies directly to Morgan himself.

“I am not a ‘shit opponent’,” Morgan rolls his eyes in feigned indignation. “I just get bored half-way through,”

“Because you’re shit and don’t actually know how to play,”

“Not true-”

Spencer’s nodding calls Morgan’s defences insignificant.

“Hey-” Morgan pushes his hand against Spencer’s shoulder. “Don’t agree with her, I’m not bad at chess I just don’t like chess,”

“People who aren’t good at certain activities have a three times higher chance of disliking said activity,” Spencer doesn’t back down from his stance, shrugging lightly with a nonchalant expression.

“Okay, you’re teaming up on me now I’m calling favouritism,” Morgan waves his hands with a shake of his head. “Prentiss back me up here, she is so only siding with Reid because they’re secretly in love with each other,”

“Oh 100%,”

You scoff at Emily’s answer, rolling your eyes. “You’re just defensive because we’re right,”

“Chess is a very intellectual game, maybe you’re just not smart enough to understand it,” Spencer shrugs again as he shoots Morgan down, and a small snicker leaves your mouth at the combination of Spencer’s burn and the look on Morgan’s face as he computes it.

You cover up the tail end of it with a cough, hiding your mouth behind your hand, but it’s not enough to actually cover it up, and Morgan’s face moves from shock to horror as he blinks in your direction. “Am I tripping balls right now or did I just hear a laugh from the robot herself?”

“What? Am I not allowed to laugh now?” You scoff at Morgan’s apparent shock of you being able to experience positive emotions, immediately falling back into your naturally icy demeanour.

“There you are, you got possessed by a spirit of joy there for a second,”

“Shut your mouth,” You throw a crumpled up piece of paper across the desks to hit him square between his eyes and your three coworkers all burst out into laughing fits of their own.

Spencer’s laughter was much quieter than Morgan and Emily’s but it seemed to dominate your ear canals nonetheless, quashing your frustration for Morgan’s attitude under the waves of his voice and again leaving you, as Morgan had so nicely put it, ‘possessed by a spirit of joy’.

He was in a similar state, a small sense of pride flowing through his veins not only because you’d taken his side in his little debate, but also at the fact that he’d managed to make you laugh.

Him. Spencer Reid had actually managed to make the most emotionally guarded person in the whole office actually laugh.

Score one for Spencer.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #mgg #asks 🫶

[bonefall]

I know you don’t rewrite arcs until they’re done, but I love hearing about your early ideas while I brood over how badly this arc has let me down. Do you have any like super vague ideas about Splashtail’s motivations yet? He’s like a way worse Hawkfrost in my mind, because they’re both very young cats who Are Just Evil. But Hawkfrost had a genuinely interesting backstory that the Erin’s simply fumbled, meanwhile Splashtail is a cartoonishly evil atheist. I feel nothing towards him, he’s not intimidating or interesting or even funny. Save me Bonefall save me (if I got something wrong please ignore it, these books are so disappointing my brain is making me forget them to protect itself.)

If it helps at all, I'm staying sane with the observation that Hawkfrost is a high charisma character making critical failure rolls, while Splashtail is a cringefail loser with no stats rolling nat20s. He becomes 50% more sufferable when you imagine a long, pungent pause after anything he says, broken only by the sound of an offscreen player tossing some dice. When the silence is broken, it's whatever NPC has been charmed speaking in the beleaguered voice of the dungeon master.

SO my early thoughts are shaping up to be that I'd like to do a slightly more serious version of that.

BB!Splashtail is the Clan equivalent of a 19-year-old, desperate for more power and respect in his society. In terms of his stats, he's promising but not outstanding. A decent fighter, a competent leader. Even in terms of lineage; his father is Sneezecloud, a respected trader and negotiator, but his mother is Havenpelt. An ex-rogue who has sworn to live by the ways of RiverClan.

Curlfeather is the one with the plans. She's the one with vision. Daughter of Reedwhisker, grandchild of Mistystar, with grand leaders like Bluestar, Oakheart, and Crookedstar in her past, greatness runs in her blood. Scandal, too-- but for some reason it's acceptable that her great-grandparents were codebreaking traitors.

Splashtail hates Curlfeather, but he can't get anywhere unless he tries to be her. He steals HER plans. He acts like SHE does. Manages to snatch power from her paws, and then has no idea what to do with it.

I'm thinking that I want his reign to be going smoothly at first, actually, going from a bit of a bossy jerk, to trying to enact Curlfeather's ambitions by launching fights and doing it badly, to active tyranny as he tries to keep control over RiverClan. Depending on how Star goes, I might have Berryheart make some kind of move to seize power over him.

At the core of how I see him though, is that Splashtail has no plan. His ideology leans Thistle Law... in a sort of dumbass 4Channer kind of way. He talks a big game about the glory of battle, but folds fast when his enemy can punch back. The only person he could successfully manipulate was a traumatized child. He will bring back pureblooded glory to the Clan, except his personal family of course

As for the Evil Atheism stuff... lol. Lmao, even. Not needed. If I need to make him a more powerful and serious danger, it's not going to come from the fact he's godless. If being an atheist gave you super murder powers, Bill Nye would have used them to obliterate half of the US government by now.

Depending on how the last book of ASC goes,

The Harelight kill is probably going to get changed to Hallowflight. Harelight watches his dad die, and Splashstar is drenched in the blood of one of RiverClan's most famous heroes. No turning back after that.

On that note I'd also make the fight longer and bloodier. A butchery of an execution showcasing Splashtail fighting like a beast and Hallowflight like a trained warrior.

I REAALLY want to make Splashtail's death a drowning. Curlfeather, demon she is now, finishes him off by dragging him under. To protect her daughter. They will have to do something VERY satisfying for me to not do this.

#BB!ASC #Better bones au

[kingsdespair-if]

KING'S DESPAIR: THE FOG OF WAR. BOOK 1.

''Welcome, dear slayer.

Or better yet, slayer-to-be.

Sit with me by the fire and help yourself to some ale.

This journey will be long.

And what a journey it will be!

We are about to slay the spawn of a god.''

King's Despair is set in Melethya, a planet similar to Earth.

Our main character is a young adventurer sought after by the renowned sage Egon. Egon presents a mission to slay creatures born from nightmares, the offspring of a bestial god believed to have created the entire universe.

But is this belief true?

Before the creatures can be slain, a sword must be retrieved. Its pieces are scattered throughout the continent of Kellet, where the slayer was born and where our adventure begins.

Kellet is the largest of the five great continents in Melethya. It is also the most hostile, filled with magical creatures who are not keen on sharing their spaces. Now, you must form a party with creatures from different species who despise each other and try to make it work. The greater good calls for heroes, and you are those heroes… sort of.

Choose from 6 unique races, each with their own abilities and appearances.

Fully customize your SLAYER, including their name, height, weight, eyes, body, hair, sexuality, and gender.

Romance, befriend, or become enemies with any of the 6 romance options (plus a secret one).

Select your class, define your personality, and determine the fate of the world. Fight for peace or for destruction.

And who knows, you might even have the opportunity to hatch a dragon egg and have a dragon companion. 👀

This game will primarily focus on character interactions and romance.

Please note that this game contains explicit content and graphic violence, and is only suitable for players aged 18 and above. Reader discretion is advised (This is a very horny and very gory game).

Amisha Kahax, SHE/HER, 29 years old, lesbian, WARG. She has been your best friend since childhood, when your parents found her lost and alone in the forest. Amisha is a formidable warrior who can transform into a powerful white tiger. Despite her fierce appearance, she has a sweet and playful personality, often teasingly flirtatious with the female Slayer. Amisha will always crush on the female Slayer and is dedicated to protecting her friends and loved ones.

Standing at a height of 5'11" (1,82), she possesses a muscular physique and wields a heavy battle axe with great skill.

[Friends to lovers, puppy love, best friends falling in love]

Veleena, SHE/HER, 31 years old, bisexual, HALF ROYAL ELF. Veleena possesses a quiet and lethal demeanor. She is cold and distant, likely due to the mistreatment from her father and the abandonment by her mother since birth. Her father, a human from the human realm, began training her in combat from a young age, as soon as she could hold a dagger in her small hands. Despite her tough exterior, Veleena is fiercely loyal to her cousin, Veldon. However, there are moments when she lets her guard down and reveals her vulnerability, as evidenced by the faint sound of her crying when she believes everyone else is asleep.

Veleena stands at 5'7" (1.70) with a slender body. She has albinism.

[Oblivious to love, Emotional scars, Everyone can see it]

Prince Khalid Razzarq-cassim, HE/HIM, 24 years old, bisexual, HASSAM. Meet Khalid, the youngest member of the royal Hassam lineage. He is fiercely loyal to his people and will go to great lengths to protect them from the mistreatment of other races. Khalid is a strong and passionate individual who isn't afraid to show it. He tends to judge others quickly and is even quicker to dismiss any threats. With a strong sense of pride and stubbornness,

Khalid stands at a height of 5'3"(1,60), taller than most in his race, and despises when anyone suggests otherwise.

[Enemies to lovers, Unattainable love, Lovers in denial, Royal]

Veldon Heredon, HE/HIM, 33 years old bisexual, HUMAN. Veldon is Veleena's older cousin. He hails from the human realm's royalty and takes great pleasure in indulging himself in the city's brothels. He enjoys getting to know the people who work there, as well as engaging in activities like drinking and gambling. However, he puts a pause on his fun-filled schedule when his cousin needs him. At that moment, his playful smile transforms into a serious frown. Veldon has always made it a point to protect his cousin, even from her own father. The scar on Veleena's face haunts his nightmares, as he blames himself for it.

Veldon takes pride in his appearance and engages in regular training for two main reasons: to ensure his cousin's safety and to maintain his attractiveness to potential suitors. He stands at a height of 5'9'' (1,75).

[One-night stand to something more meaningful, Belated love epiphany, Playboy in love]

Kaellë Lorthan, SHE/HER, 27 years old, demisexual. SALT ELF. Kaellë is a timid salt elf who is fearful of her own shadow, but possesses exceptional healing skills. She has never failed to save a patient, even during her years working aboard perilous merchant ships. Accompanying her at all times is her affectionate sea wyvern, Jokhan. Blushing easily and frequently hiding behind her hands, Kaellë exudes a charming presence. However, her thanatophobia raises doubts about her suitability for her current occupation. "Has Egon lost his mind? Oh well, so be it."

She is 5' 1'' (1,55).

[Love at first sight, First love, Can’t say 'I love you', Sweet love]

Mauthak, the cruel, HE/HIM, 35 years old, gay, ORC. Mauthak lives up to his name, being strong, big, and fierce. However, this doesn't mean he indiscriminately kills every creature he encounters. He simply enjoys fighting a little too much for his own good. As the leader of his Orc tribe, Mauthak is responsible for training the young recruits in the army, a role he takes very seriously. He has a love for drinking, fighting, and sex, making him a straightforward individual.

Physically, Mauthak is an imposing figure, standing at a towering height of 6' 5'' (1,98). He possesses the strength of a minotaur. He confidently struts around, his muscular and scarred chest exposed, wearing heavy armor on his shoulders.

[Redemption, Nobody thinks it will work, Forbidden love]

SECRET. Selectable Gender, 28 years old, gay/lesbian/heterosexual, their sexual orientation depends on MC's gender. UNKNOWN race.

They are familiar with you, even if you are unaware of them. They have been discreetly observing you, captivated by you. You are their sole focus.

Unknown height.

They possess immense power. Wait, did you hear that?

[Unrequited love, Dark secret, Secret identity, Secret admirer, If I can’t have you, nobody will]

PLAY THE DEMO

English is not my first language, so please be gentle with me.

//

My side project, Shadow of Styria, can be found HERE.

//

Join the Discord and come chat with me! 🥰 https://discord.gg/NcnHwV65xn

#twine if #interactive fiction #original character #romance #medieval #fantasy creatures #hosted games #twine game #interactive story #choice of games #kingsdespair-if #lgbtqia #twine wip

[blaiddfailcam]

The left eye of the demigods

A recurring pattern some may have noticed a ways back is the unusual trait of sealed or missing left eyes among some of the demigods—now reiterated once again with the newly revealed Messmer the Impaler, a demigod of yet unknown origin. Eyes in Elden Ring are diegetically symbolic, meaning their hue and other characteristics illustrate to the player and to the characters within the game world their purpose within the setting.

The "lesser" demigods

Among the demigods, several of their lineage possess two gold eyes of varying shades or heterogenous pigmentation (meaning they show two distinct pigments in a single iris). These include:

Godwyn the Golden ("sullied" gold left eye in story trailer, two clouded gold eyes as the Prince of Death)

Morgott the Grace-Given (reddish-gold)

Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy (gold with red "spokes")

Starscourge Radahn (same as Rykard's)

Godrick the Grafted (clouded gold)

Gold eyes are a common sight among the non-Tarnished denizens of the Lands Between, whether their irises are entirely golden or marked with a sort of golden crescent. The red markings within Rykard and Radahn's eyes aren't so unusual given their heritage as the sons of Radagon, and Morgott's peculiar shade of gold likely relates to the Crucible, the primordial being that gives rise to the accursed Omen.

In Godfrey, First Elden Lord's portraits at the Roundtable Hold, his right eye is noticeably golden as well, while his left is obscured. As he was divested of Grace by Queen Marika, this gold hue faded. He is still possessed of both eyes in his boss battle, so he most likely also counts among the above listed demigods.

The Empyreans

Strangely, this only accounts for a small fraction of the greater pantheon. Most notable about each of these demigods, however, is that none of them are Empyreans, a unique class of demigods elected by the Two Fingers to succeed Queen Marika as vessels for the Elden Ring. Among the confirmed Empyreans, only one ia depicted with their eyes showing, and just barely:

Lunar Princess Ranni (right eye of spectral face blue, left eye of spectral face/right eye of doll sealed, left eye of doll pale blue)

Miquella the Unalloyed (face not yet shown)

Malenia, Blade of Miquella (both eyes sealed by rotten scales)

Presumably, to become a god, one must be a chosen Empyrean, so we can likely add Marika, Queen Eternal to this list. Strangely, her eyes are never shown either when we encounter her within the Erdtree (her right eye is tightly shut, and her left eye and socket are carved out by a cavity that encompasses the entire left hemisphere of her cranium), nor within any portraiture or statuary throughout the game.

Other demigods

Radagon of the Golden Order is regarded Marika's other half. Though he was disregarded a mere human champion during the Liurnian Wars, he was elevated to the status of a demigod, along with his direct children, upon marrying Marika, and later become something of a god when the two fractured into one. Like Marika, his appearance within the Erdtree is missing its left eye as a result of fracturing. His right eyelid is open, but in place of eyes, fragments of golden, runic light trace where irises would be.

Strangely enough, Radagon is depicted in the Roundtable Hold within another portrait, but his right eye is entirely black, including even his sclera. This appears again in the Radagon Icon illustration. (The manga adaptation, the Road to the Erdtree, was also careful to maintain this peculiar detail.) It isn't exactly clear whether this waa an artistic choice to obscure his eye, or if he literally had black eyes.

This leaves a handful more of Marika's demigod children unaccounted for:

Mohg, Lord of Blood (gold right eye with faded pupil, left eye gouged by his own horns)

Messmer the Impaler (right eye gold with slit pupil, left eye sealed)

Melina (gold right eye, sealed left eye with three-fingered dragon-like marking; when the left eye opens, the iris is a violet whirl)

Melina's origins are rather hazy even to her own knowledge, owing to her as of yet unexplained amnesia. One thing is certain: she claims to be the direct daughter of Queen Marika, and was addressed a specific duty, but what it was is now forgotten. Upon arriving at the Elden Throne and finding the Erdtree sealed (presumably by Radagon), Melina determines to act as kindling and set the Erdtree ablaze. Whether this was Marika's intention is uncertain, but Melina insists it is her choice, regardless of her mother's designs.

Should the player inherit the Frenzied Flame and usurp Melina's destiny without later curing their affliction, Melina will reappear in a secret ending. Her appearance is eerily altered, her hair now burnt and blackened, and her right eye clouded by pale gold. In swearing to hunt you to the ends of the earth, her left eye opens, revealing the violet whirl...

So what exactly is up with Melina's violet eye?

Shadows of the Empyreans

Oddly enough, Melina's violet eye isn't entirely unique. One other character in particular shares this trait—of all people, Blaidd the Half-Wolf is the only character with not just one, but two violet eyes.

Blaidd is the shadow of Lunar Princess Ranni, tailored by her Two Fingers to serve either as her devout guardian on her path to succeed Queen Marika, or her ruthless killer should she betray the Greater Will. He is one of two shadows encountered in the game, the other being Maliketh, who serves an identical function for Queen Marika. When the player encounters Maliketh under the guise of Gurranq, he bestows upon them the Beast Eye, a half-petrified, violet eyeball seemingly plucked from his own skull to aid them in weeding Deathroot. (One can infer the player is the second recipient of an eye, and that the other was previously gifted to D, Hunter of the Dead.)

Evidently, the violet eyes are likely a symbol of the shadows' nature as retainers for their Empyrean masters. Both Blaidd and Maliketh are regarded honorary brothers to their Empyreans, perhaps indicating the two were not born by any conventional means, but somehow fashioned from an aspect of the Empyreans, and especially designed by the Two Fingers to best fulfill their duty as vassals.

Seeing as Ranni's eye is sealed much like Melina's, one has to wonder... what color was it? Are all Empyreans marked with this violet eye? Why would they all be sealed? Was this some sort of countermeasure to prevent them from rebelling against the Greater Will?

While Maliketh wields the Rune of Death itself in the form of an obsidion blade, the baleful shadows that hunt Ranni in Blaidd's image possess blades infused with Destined Death. When Melina's left eye opens, it is precisely at the moment she vows to "return" Destined Death to the Tarnished. Might it be that shadows are created to withhold the Empyreans' ability to raise Destined Death against the gods...?

The Gloam-Eyed Queen

In the grand history of the Lands Between, one other Empyrean is said to have lived long before the current pantheon. This is, of course, the alluringly mysterious Gloam-Eyed Queen, commander of the Godskins who channeled Destined Death.

Before the Golden Order was founded, this enigmatic matriarch wielded the power of Blackflame to hunt the gods and fashion from their flesh the ghastly accoutrements worn by her mad followers. When Marika arrived in the Lands Between, her loyal shadow was tasked with sealing Destined Death and severing the bloodthirsty Empyrean's ability to slay the gods, at which point she either perished, or vanished into obscurity.

Naturally, the term "Gloam-Eyed Queen" conjurs the image of a violet-eyed matriarch. Her Godskin children bear great amethyst pendants, after all, and it's clear that violet eyes are representative of a unique cosmological function. Perhaps being the first known Empyrean besides Marika, the Gloam-Eyed Queen was directly responsible for the trend of bestowing the chosen candidates for the Elden Ring with their personal shadow? As far as can tell, the Gloam-Eyed Queen never had her own shadowbound knight...

Enter Messmer

Though it's obviously pointless to ponder when his story will be fully presented in a little under four months, it's difficult not to ponder his place in this "rule of eyes." Like Melina and Ranni, Messmer's left eye is sealed or missing. Could this illustrate that he is yet another Empyrean?

In any case, he appears to be a child of Marika as well, but whether directly or indirectly remains unclear. Considering the numerous, soulless demigods of the Wandering Mausoleums are each and all regarded the "unwanted children" of Marika, it's possible that the term "mother" is used rather loosely here.

(Contrary to popular belief, demigods do not need to be the direct offspring of Marika. After all, Enia divulges that Godrick is no more than a distant grandchild, his noble blood diluted over countless generations. Other demigods may include Millicent and the Sisters of Rot, as they are each targeted as potential vessels for the Outer God of Rot in Malenia's stead.)

If it should be revealed that Messmer, like Melina, is marked with a violet left eye in his second phase, or perhaps if we encounter yet another wolf-headed shadow... Well, that's as much as I'll allow myself to overhype my own theories, lol.

Miscellaneous

While obscured left eyes may designate the Empyreans among the demigods, I believe there is one exception: Mohg, Lord of Blood. Though his left eye is technically sealed, this was merely a result of his poor hygiene and allowing a cutaneous horn to drive itself into his eyeball. Nowhere is it ever remotely suggested he is an Empyrean.

Another peculiar case is Malenia, as both of her eyes are welded shut by dense scales of Scarlet Rot, akin to leporosy. This may not have always been the case, however, as with the limbs she lost to illness.

One other peculiar detail: in Melina's secret ending, her gold eye becomes clouded. Fascinatingly, this effect is shared by Vyke's Finger Maiden at the Church of Inhibition, but in both of her eyes. It is not, however, shared by the deceased Finger Maiden at the Church of Anticipation, nor Finger Maiden Therolina, so it seems to be a very deliberate choice. Could this relate to the theme of Frenzied Flame and the usurpation of the kindling maidens' destiny...?

(It's hard to get a clear picture of her, lol.)

#elden ring #my ramblings #shadow of the erdtree #FUCK posted prematurely #but it's mostly done

[vforvalensa]

Rereading Dungeon Meshi and it's such an interesting series in how it's a deeply gamic story, but often the way it deploys game logic will be in ways that's rare to see in actual games. I think a lot about chapter 5, the one where Chilchuck really gets the spotlight for the first time.

This chapter does a lot to drive home the importance of party comp in this setting. Like at this point we've already seen Laios, Marcille, and Senshi be competent and useful in their own roles as fighters, mage/healer, and dungeon survivalists, but here's where we get to see why a thief archetype is important for a party to have.

It's super cool to see all the thief shit Chil needs to do to keep the party from dying badly from traps, but most games, especially multiplayer ones tend not to have elaborate digressions about trap disarmament.

Like sure lockpicking mini games are everywhere and some older crpgs like the early bioware games will have bits where you have to click on a bunch of traps on the ground, but any adventure game with combat where another gameplay approach, like stealth or something, isn't the main focus will tend to subordinate those systems to combat. I think a big part of that is the lineage of dungeons and dragon that established that adventuring in rpgs primarily looks like swinging swords and casting spells, but to be fair to dnd in a game with very distinct character classes like that having any one class with a complex mechanic the point is that the other players dont have the expertise to deal with (like the trap bit in dunmeshi) would make for a weird play flow.

But a manga like Dungeon Meshi doesn't really have to worry about player experience so it gets to do game things games dont get to do. It's really interesting to me and I'd be super curious to see if a game with the type of breadth of dungeon meshi could work

#dungeon mesh #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #manga #media analysis #valensa talks #media talk

[vanteguccir]

family reunion | jasper hale

Jasper Hale x reader | Cullen family x reader (platonic) | Mikaelson family x reader (platonic)

Summary: When Edward decides to leave Bella behind for her own safety, Y/N take the lead to take the Cullens to the town where she grew up, with her only concern being how to explain for them her real there.

Warning: None.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Edward, if you really want to disappear... I know a place we can go." Y/N said, looking directly into the mind reader's eyes, hoping to see some kind of emotion there.

Y/N could imagine the mess that was in Edward's head, the fact that he had, or rather, wanted to leave Bella behind for the girl's own safety was killing him from the inside, and despite feeling angry at the quick choice he made, she couldn't judge him. Y/N could never see herself away from Jasper, just imagining the possibility made her frozen heart hurt.

"Where?" Rosalie chimed in, looking at Y/N waiting for her response.

"New Orleans." She responded a few seconds later, feeling everyone's eyes focus on her.

Everyone in the Cullen family had a story that began at their birth and, often, ended with their last breath before becoming creatures of the night, stories of when their surname was something else, not Cullen.

Each one took their own time to reveal this story to the others, but it was never difficult for Y/N, after all, her life was normal before anything else... Right?

The vampire was born in London, but at the age of thirteen she moved to New Orleans with her mother after her parents divorced for reasons that Y/N didn't know to this day. Her mother chose New Orleans based on the idea that her parents, Y/N's grandparents, lived there and her ancestors came from there too.

From the age of thirteen, Y/N discovered the culture of New Orleans and grew up surrounded by it: street parties, blues players on every corner, restaurants open 24 hours a day, bright night bars and so on. At least that's what Y/N told her new family.

The truth is that the girl came from a lineage of extremely strong and well-known witches in the supernatural world, the Mikaelsons. Anyone who is smart enough would have a question mark in their mind now, after all, the Mikaelsons who are still alive are all vampires and vampires don't procreate, right? Right!

But what if part of the story has never been told? Not in bedtime stories, at least.

Niklaus' father was not the only affair Esther had, the mother of the Mikaelson family had a thing for supernatural beings and, therefore, in addition to werewolves, Esther became involved with a great wizard at the time, from the Bishop lineage.

Wizards weren't as well known at the time, as everyone focused on the female image within witchcraft, sometimes with curious eyes and sometimes with evil ones, but that doesn't mean they didn't exist, and Esther not only found one, she had a daughter with him.

Five years before Esther decided to turn her children into bloodthirsty creatures, she gave birth to Agnes Bishop-Mikaelson. Knowing the gigantic problem it would create if she showed up at home with another daughter in her arms, after her 9-month "trip", and that the child was not Mikael's, Esther decided to leave Agnes with her father and pretend that she never existed, completely removing the name Mikaelson from the child.

And it worked, no one from the Bishop family ever looked for her throughout her life and eternity, but that doesn't mean that the story of having remnants of a Mikaelson in the family tree wasn't passed on.

And Y/N, from the age of thirteen, grew up surrounded by infinite grimoires of her lineage, listening to stories told by her grandparents and mother, finally being able to understand why she could make fire light out of nowhere or objects levitate.

But although the girl saw her magic as a salvation, it was her downfall as well.

After the death of her grandparents, her mother became lost in grief and loneliness, going to the other side of the veil a few months later, leaving Y/N alone in a world of supernatural beings who would do anything to kill her if they knew about her great-great grandmother.

It didn't take much for the story of Esther's secret daughter to be revealed, and consequently, the existence of Y/N. Beings from all over the United States began to appear to the girl, wanting her life in exchange for revenge, and then her ancestors began to haunt her dreams trying to help her, but Y/N didn't understand that, and the situation only left everything worse for her.

Until one day, a charming man wearing a suit that was too expensive to wear on any given day appeared at the door of her house, offering protection and help in exchange for explanations.

Elijah was extremely helpful after understanding what his mother did to the Bishop lineage, being grateful that Y/N had no reservations in showing him all the grimoires and diaries of her ancestors, revealing the complete truth.

And with that Y/N was welcomed by the Mikaelson family, being able to train her magic with Esther's grimoires too, despite not having any physical help, since Kol, one of the Mikaelson brothers, was sleeping in some kind of coffin and Freya was dead, or something like that.

But it was one night when Y/N was walking alone through the streets of New Orleans, eager to return to the home of who she considered family, when everything was stolen from her.

An old and strong enemy of Esther appeared accompanied by reinforcements and not even with all of Y/N's still little knowledge would she have been able to stop them, the girl had only recently started studying strong magic and blamed herself for it, despite it not being her fault.

The girl was kidnapped and taken to a warehouse far from the entrance to New Orleans, surrounded by orchards, where she was tortured for hours, or was it days?

With the little strength she had left, Y/N was able to escape a few meters away from the warehouse, and it was there that she was found by Esme, who at the time was looking for fragrant apples to decorate the counter of her temporary home with her family.

Y/N could never be able to thank Esme enough for saving her life that day, if it weren't for the eldest, she would not have survived, already extremely weak and with fractures that caused irreversible damage to her organs, which would only lead to a slow death. Therefore, when Esme arrived at his house suddenly with the young woman in his arms, Carlisle spared no time before transforming her.

And then Y/N Cullen's new life began. She knew that hiding the whole truth wasn't right, but the last thing she wanted was to put the Cullen family in danger, already putting them at risk enough just by being with them.

"Are you sure you're ready to go back there, my love?" Jasper's question interrupted Y/N's triggered memories, and the girl was momentarily grateful that, with her magic, she could block Edward's reading.

"Yes, it's time to face those fears. Pack your bags, we'll leave at nightfall." Y/N informed decisively, turning around and going to her shared room with Jasper, finally being able to take a deep breath and organize her mind.

She needed to tell them before they put a foot in New Orleans, the girl knew that Niklaus would know of her arrival within seconds and she definitely didn't want to cause any more drama.

Y/N took out her phone and opened the contacts, her finger hovering over Elijah's contact, sighing and closing her eyes tightly before locking the screen, her last meeting with the Mikaelsons wasn't one of the best; Niklaus demanded that Y/N return home, despite her type of vampire being different, while Rebekah blamed herself for not having protected her enough before that night and Elijah tried to calm the whole situation, also begging her with his eyes to return to them, they missed her company, but she knew she couldn't, not at the time.

The girl shook her head, trying to shake off the thoughts, and picked up her and Jasper's bags, starting to organize the piles of clothes that she would take for both of them.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"There, everyone's ready?" Emmett asked after loading all the bags into the four cars and closing the trunk of the last one. Everyone responded with a simple wave and got into their respective cars, Y/N heading to the car she would use with Jasper, getting into the passenger seat and waiting for the long journey to begin.

"Baby, what's going on? Ever since you decided to take us to New Orleans you've been quiet. You know if you don't want to go there, we can aways choose another place-" Jasper began, his right hand on Y/N's thigh as his eyes remained on the road in front of him, casting quick glances at his girlfriend.

"No Jas, I'm fine, just thinking... I wasn't completely truthful with you guys about my life before I turned." She said, looking closely at Jasper, waiting to see his reaction, but only received a nod as if to say "you can continue, I'm all ears". "I think it would be better for everyone to listen." Y/N muttered, pulling out her phone and quickly starting a group call with one person from each car.

"Y/N? Unless Jasper lost his hand, I don't see why you're calling us. Your car looks great." Rosalie was the first to answer, being in the car behind Jasper and Y/N.

Y/N let out a laugh while Jasper rolled his eyes, Rosalie could be sarcastic when she wanted.

"Hello to you too, Rose. I'm just calling you all because I think I should tell you everything before we get to New Orleans. I wasn't completely truthful in the life story I told you before." Y/N began, beginning her long and tragic life story, smiling small when she had everyone's attention.

"This is all... Wow." Alice muttered from Edward's car. "How come I didn't see any of this?"

"Like I said, I'm a witch, and even with the transformation, for some reason, my magic wasn't interrupted or broken, in fact it became stronger and I have more control over it, that's why you only see me in some of your visions and Edward only hears some of my thoughts, I decide what you can see and hear." Y/N explained, seeing a sideways smile spread across Jasper's face, he knew she didn't mention him because she didn't hide her emotions from him, she never did.

"I think it's a lot of information to digest in a short amount of time, but we understand why you kept it from us for so long and I'm grateful that you wanted to protect us all." Carlisle took the lead, followed by "uhum's" from everyone, Y/N sighed in relief.

"When we get there, are we going to stay at this Mikaelsons' house or...?" Alice asked, looking out the window at the constantly changing landscape.

"We're going to the house I grew up in, I never sold or rented it. It must be dusty, but I promise it's big enough for all of us."

"Just the fact that I won't need to sleep with Edweirdo makes it good enough for me." Emmett joked, everyone laughing simultaneously, which calmed the tension.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

It didn't take long for the traditional "Welcome to New Orleans" sign to appear up ahead.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, she couldn't imagine the Mikaelsons' reaction to seeing her again, so many years later. And she couldn't lie and say that she wasn't afraid of the Cullens' reaction to seeing what a mess her "other life" was.

The girl quickly took out her phone and opened the message group she shared with the Cullens.

"We arrived in the city that never sleeps, this is my home address, but you can just follow Jasper and I and we'll be there soon."

After sending the text, Y/N started giving Jasper directions to the entrances, trying not to look at the places they passed, as she knew she would get stuck in a memory loop. Finally, after many entrances, the girl saw the house where she spent her adolescence and early youth, smiling small as she felt her eyes fill with tears.

"It's that one over there." She said, pointing to the two-story house with a light pink fence in the front and pastel yellow curtains, just like her grandmother liked.

It wasn't long before the family found themselves unloading the suitcases from the cars and taking them to the living room, Emmett cracking jokes while Esme scolded him and Alice talked about all the clothing and shoe stores she saw on the way there.

A sound of approaching footsteps caught the family's attention, and they looked up to see a blond, green-eyed man approaching with an expression of anger and surprise.

"So it's true?" He spoke up, making Y/N freeze in the middle of the room, her hand dropping the backpack she was holding. "Y/N Bishop-Mikaelson everyone!" The man continued loudly with an ironic tone and sarcastic smile, opening his arms.

"Nik." Y/N whispered, closing her eyes tightly.

"Did you finally remember that you have a family, Y/N? Or did you come to ask for help with some nonsense you got into?" Niklaus asked rhetorically, staring at the entrance where he could see the girl's silhouette.

"Niklaus, please." Y/N spoke, turning and leaving the house, stopping a few meters away from the older man.

The hybrid stopped for a few seconds, analyzing the girl he saw as a daughter before she disappeared from his life, and the only girl Niklaus would set the world on fire if necessary, besides his brothers.

"Why did you come back?" He asked, crossing his arms, as if he was in charge of the city, which in a way is not a lie.

"We were in trouble in Forks and needed some time away." She responded with a sigh, quickly glancing at the Cullens behind her, who were paying attention to the moment without trying to interfere.

"Problems?" Nik paused for a second, a thread of worry passing through his eyes, which was quickly drowned out. "And do you find refuge here?" His nervous tone returned.

"Yes Niklaus, if you don't remember, I grew up here and my entire lineage is from here, I have the right to return to my home." Y/N argued, taking a rigid stance, pointing to her own chest.

"Oh, now New Orleans is your home? Funny how-"

"That's enough Niklaus." A second male voice came before the vision of a dark-skinned man wearing an expensive suit emerged.

"Great, a family reunion! Just what I needed right now." Y/N spoke with false excitement, rolling her eyes.

"Good to see you too Y/N." Elijah spoke, stopping next to Klaus and looking at everyone behind the Mikaelson girl, noticing their uncomfortable expressions at the sudden encounters and barbs exchanged between Nik and Y/N. "Why don't we have dinner at our house with everyone and... talk? We miss you Y/N and it would be great to meet the ones you consider family. If they're important to you, they're important to us too." He finished, sending a quick smile to the Cullens and receiving ones in return.

It would be long months.

#x reader #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #jasper hale fanfic #jasper hale fic #fanfics #imagine #fanfic #cullen #edward cullen #alice cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #rosalie cullen #carlisle cullen #mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #forks #new orleans #crossover

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

more limited cards for book 7??

Ortho has his Cerberus Gear card, Lilia has his Right General card, now Sebek is getting his Eternal Knight card… I’M SENSING A PATTERN HERE 🫣 Dropping every so often with book 7 updates… Plus, these appear to be linked to the player titles you can earn by owning 10 of a particular character’s cards. Ortho’s is Guardian of the Underworld (Cerberus is the guard dog of the Underworld and Lilia’s is Seeker of Cradles (referring to how he found Silver all those years back). The composition of Sebek’s Knight of Lightning invokes imagery of his UM (which we learned last update), and he appears to be wearing the armor of the night fae soldiers and is using a polearm (?), which makes me think he's going to participate in an important battle in the next update. A high definition version of the artwork shows that he seems to be wet from rain, as it’s all over his skin and weapon. You know what else???? We see half of his face... and the other half obscured by a mask... his hair is down (which is only ever down in the mornings when he has just woken up and is still in a more vulnerable kind of state). Is this symbolism for Sebek finally coming to terms with his mixed heritage 😭

Y’all think… Idia, Malleus, and Silver are also going to get limited time cards in relation to future book 7 updates and those player titles??? Ain’t no way they’d only do it for half of the relevant characters in book 7 and leave it unfinished… (Maybe TWST will even get to doing them for the full cast eventually?? Though I don’t know when they’d find the time to squeeze in releases for the rest of the boys 💦) fbdjvwjsnzkww I wonder what they’ll be???

Just to quickly speculate on Malleus, Silver, and/or Idia’s potential cards:

King of the Underworld (Idia) — Idia finally wakes tf up and gets off his ass to contribute to the rescue 😂 Perhaps he reconnects with his family to figure out the situation and goes full mad scientist/hacker mode?? Not sure what the outfit would be but I’m picturing he’s looking deranged and dressed mad cyberpunk-y.

Knight of Dreams (Silver) — This one, I think, is the most easily predicted. Many Silver cards mirror Sebek’s, and since Sebek’s card seems to feature him in the armor of the night fae, Silver’s may feature him in the armor of the Silver Owls. (Maybe Silver will even magically get his blonde hair back for the brief shot of the initial card art www) This may be tied with Silver fully accepting his royal lineage (ie his old family) while also embracing those he has sworn to protect now (his new family). It may or may not also be associated with Silver “waking” Lilia and/or the spell on him finally breaking thanks to Lilia’s true love. I would genuinely be shocked if this guess was wrong or not close—

Ruler of the Abyss (Malleus) — Two thoughts: either this kicks off the series of OB boy cards people have been speculating about for years OR this will kick off the start of the OB boys “fully realized” series, since the other OB boys have similar titles. However, it should be noted that these same titles are also very close to, if not the same as, the book titles (1-7), which may not be as triumphant in context given that they serve as the main antagonists for their respective books. So either we’re getting Malleus Full Crazy Mode or Malleus maturing a bit and finally learning to let his loved ones go. In both cases, I see him dressed up like the prince he is, looking regal and yet lonely.

Do you guys have any ideas??? (They don’t necessarily have to he for Idia, Silver, and/or Malleus! One of my friends suggested merform Jade and Floyd for potential Undersea Advisor and Undersea Marauder cards—) If you do, feel free to share them ^^

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Idia Shroud #Diasomnia #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #notes from the writing raven #Silver #Ortho Shroud #Ignihyde #Lilia Vanrouge #Sebek Zigvolt #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theory #twisted wonderland theories #Jade Leech #Floyd Leech #Tweels

[padraigshomebrewworkshop]

Ancestry: Heraldic (V0.1)

Alright, this time I'm going to try my hand at making a ancestry/lineage. I'll first explain the general concept, give a short lore explanation/example, and then provide the preliminary features. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged.

General Concept: This is actually, in a sense, my response to the Ardling that was playtested not to long ago for One D&D. It felt like they had an element missing in both versions they presented, for one. It also felt like they just ended up being less interesting versions of already existing ancestries (aasimar for the first version and general beastkin for the second). So, I decided one way you could make a divine beastkin sort of ancestry more interesting is to A) give it a more flavorful ability to represent their divine origins and B) embrace the otherworldly by making them a representation of fantastical and even divine hybrid animals like the mushussu and even unicorns in certain depictions.

Preliminary Lore: This actually still being worked out, but I have two paths to follow so far:

Option 1: A heraldic is born in response to the presence of a powerful celestial being known as a heraldic beast (name not final). Heraldic beasts are charged with protecting a certain group of people, family, or even piece of land from potentially malevolent entities like fiends and aberrations. Heraldics themselves are born into said group of people, often looking like their parents associated ancestry before beginning to develop more beastly features, eventually fully becoming a heraldic. Seem more common in places where a heraldic beast died trying to protect its charges, likely as some way to ensure someone will be there to protect them in its absence.

Option 2: Heraldics themselves are created to protect a group of people, a family, or piece of land. As such, they often become the de facto protectors of their charges. They often end up sharing the same appearance as their predecessors, but on occasion will manifest different abilities, likely with a different animal influence then others of their clan/tribe.

Appearance: Heraldics end up looking quite otherworldly, and not just because of their inherent chimeric nature. They often possess unusual coloration when compared to the common appearance of their component parts, such as having pearlescent fur/scales or golden eyes. More often then not, they possesses coloration that represents their apotropaic function, typically having coloration that their "wards" associate with good fortune or prosperity. Obviously, they end of being a humanoid mish-mash of various beasts. However, this can manifest in various ways, with the combinations of beasts varying from as little as two to even five or six in rare instances. These features often grow and manifest overtime, with usually only one beast component being fully developed at maturity. As more components reach "maturity", it can drastically change a heraldics appearance in chaotic seeming ways. For instance, a heraldic may start with a small set of bird-like wings fit only for gliding, then suddenly manifest a large set of bat wings later on in life that are capable of flight (while still keeping the smaller bird-like wings). Or perhaps the features will merge, becoming entirely unique in appearance (though perhaps a bit unsettling).

Creature Type: Humanoid (possibly Celestial)

Size: Medium or Small

Speed: 30 ft.

Age: Either around 200 or 300 if lore option 2. Longer when compared to their parents ancestry if lore option 1.

Natural Weapon: You possess a natural weapon associated with one of your beastly components, such as claws or horns. Your unarmed strike becomes 1d6 + Strength for damage and can be either Bludgeoning, Piercing, or Slashing (you choose at character creation). When you gain another Chimeric Form option, you can choose another one of the provided damage types to be an option when you make an unarmed strike with this feature, representing another natural weapon manifesting with your further development.

Chimeric Form: Choose one of the following options, representing the beastly component that first fully manifested. You choose another option at 3rd and 5th level. You can choose an option twice, with it becoming more powerful in certain ways:

Aquatic (shark, dolphin, plesiosaur, etc.): You gain a 15ft swimming speed and can hold your breath for 1 hour. If chosen again, the swim speed equals 30ft and you can breath both air and water.

Flyer (hawk, butterfly, pterosaur, etc.): When you fall at least 10ft and are not incapacitated or restrained, you can spread your wings and glide a number of feet equal to half your walking speed per and take no falling damage. You also only take half the fall damage you would normally take, even if incapacitated or restrained. If chosen again, you gain a 30ft flying speed.

Agile (leopard, rabbit, velociraptor, etc.): You add an additional 10ft to your walking speed and you have advantage on saves against being knocked prone. If chosen again, you gain a 30ft climbing speed and can add half your walking speed when making a running long or high jump.

Sturdy (elephant, tortoise, ankylosaurus, etc.): Your hit points maximum increases by 1, and increases by 1 again each time you level up. You also count as one size larger when determining carrying capacity and the weight you can push, drag, or lift. If chosen again, your hit points maximum increase by 2 instead of 1 each level up and you have an AC of 13 + Dexterity when unarmored.

Nocturnal (owl, cat, troodon, etc.): You gain 60ft of darkvision and can take the Hide action as a bonus action when obscured by dim light or darkness. If chosen again, your darkvision increases to 120ft and you gain 10ft of blindsight.

Burrower (mole, fox, thrinaxodon, etc.): You gain a 15ft burrowing speed (loose earth only) and have 10ft of tremorsense. If chosen again, the burrowing speed becomes 30ft and you can now burrow through unworked stone.

Apotropaic Presence: When you are targeted by an attack or forced to make a save by an aberration, fey, fiend, or undead, you can use your reaction to make that creature roll at disadvantage for that attack or make yourself roll at advantage if they force you to make a save. You can do this an amount of times equal to your proficiency bonus per long rest.

Heightened Senses: You gain proficiency in either Perception or Survival.

Again, feedback is welcome and appreciated!

#d&d #dnd #homebrew #player race #player ancestry #player lineage

[lilacmingi]

OPPOSITES ATTRACT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with ne ir any of my works.

Pairing: Gryffindor!Jongho x Slytherin!fem reader

Word count: 4,408

Note: Final installment in the Hogwarts AU series! If you don’t know, the Hogwarts imagines for the other members are linked at the end! Reminder that this is an imagine from my Wattpad from 2023 so there will not be extra parts or continuations

Jongho wizzed through the air, holding the Quaffle close to him as he zoomed towards the opposing team's hoops, successfully tossing the ball through the goal, scoring yet again for Gryffindor.

"Yes!" You cheered only to quickly clamp your hand over your mouth afterwards, your outburst earning you some glances from your fellow housemates.

Maybe next time you should sit with the Gryffindors—then again, you'd stand out like a sore thumb. It was hard not to cheer for Jongho. He's the best quidditch player on the whole team, watching him is enough to put you on the edge of your seat. Yes, you two are from opposing houses, but you're the best of friends and you don't let old rivalries stop you from hanging out together.

The game came to a close and Gryffindor took the victory as expected. You had to keep your excitement at bay as you exited the stands to meet with your friend on the ground, holding it in long enough to part ways with the rest of your house.

Jongho approached you looking oh-so-handsome as usual, a thin layer of sweat on his face giving him a post-victory glow.

"That was awesome!" You squeaked.

"It was nothing." He huffed.

"Nothing? Every time I watch you play I'm on the edge of my seat. Honestly, there was a couple times I wasn't sure you'd score, but you pulled through every time."

His warm laughter filled the air as his cheeks turned pink, though that could have just been from all the activity out on the field.

"You act like I'm the best player on the team."

"You are!" You said enthusiastically, giving him a light punch on the arm. "We should celebrate your victory."

"By doing what?"

"We could go to Hogsmeade and grab a butterbeer." You suggested. "My treat."

Jongho's eyes lit up.

He loved butterbeer. You could remember the first time he tried it, the fond memory replaying in your head.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

That heart-melting gummy smile of his broke out on his face as he nodded.

"Sounds good."

You and Jongho had been friends from day one, literally. You met on the train to Hogwarts and he was nervous as ever. He had only just recently found out there was magic in his family lineage and wasn't sure what to expect at Hogwarts as he had only found out it's existence a few weeks prior to the start of he school year.

"I don't know anything about this place and I'm nervous to be away from home for so long."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. You'll have fun, trust me." You told him. "I've been looking forward to this for a whole year. My older cousin told me they have entire feasts at Hogwarts. There's all sorts of food lined up on these really long tables that stretch across almost the entirety of the room."

"Wow. That sounds much better than instant ramen."

"Instant? Muggles have instant ramen?" You asked with wide eyes.

"Oh. It's not instant, it's just made in a shorter amount of time. We don't have magic so we have meals that can be made easily."

"Ooh. How long does it take?"

"Usually about three minutes unless you want to add extra stuff or cook your noodles longer."

"Three minutes is still really quick." You responded. "That's amazing."

"I guess it is." He chuckled.

Jongho thought so-called "muggle" things weren't special. After all, it's just how he goes about daily life, but seeing your reaction was amusing to him.

The both of you became friends very quickly during the duration of the train ride. You even sat together at the sorting hat ceremony, where you briefly explained what would occur.

"I hope we get into the same house together." You remember Jongho saying.

Unfortunately, you got sorted into different houses, you in Slytherin and him in Gryffindor, but that didn't bother you, nor did it stop the both of you from spending time together.

You and Jongho signed up to take a muggle appreciation class together where you paired up with each other since the professor wanted muggles or half-bloods to pair with purebloods. That was one of your favorite classes. You enjoyed learning about how muggles got through everyday life without magic as well as some of the things they had that you didn't, like pens, you found those to be quite fascinating. Your professor had a few and allowed everyone to try them out to see what they thought. You loved the pen and wondered why the school never used them instead of quills.

"You did so good at the game yesterday." You told Jongho.

He smiled, looking down bashfully. "Thanks."

"You're the best quidditch player at Hogwarts." You continued praising him.

Jongho was visibly holding back a bright grin, doing his best to keep it concealed as he fiddled with the packaging of his chocolate frog he purchased from the candy trolley.

"I get so caught up in the game. I'm sure my housemates want to kick me out." You chuckled.

He had seen you cheering him on many times before, even when Slytherin was against Gryffindor. It warmed his heart that you always cheered for him despite being in opposing houses and seeing you in the stands always gave him an energy boost during quidditch games, but he would never say it aloud.

Once you arrived at Hogsmeade, you couldn't contain your excitement, rushing Jongho off the train. He was fairly excited as well, but he wanted to keep his cool, putting on a calm exterior as he followed behind you through the metal archway with the town name on it.

Jongho's eyes glimmered in wonderment as he gazed at all the shops like it was his first time seeing them.

"Here we are." You announced, looking up at the sign for The Three Broomsticks.

Jongho was quick to step ahead of you and hold the door open. It was a small gesture but it made your heart flutter. Stepping inside the tavern, the both of you made your way to the bar, seating yourselves on the wooden stools that lined it. Someone came around shortly and took your orders before grabbing a couple glass steins, filling them with the sweet amber liquid you and Jongho came for.

"Two butterbeers." The barkeep said, setting the glasses down.

You rummaged in your bag and placed enough coins on the tabletop to pay for the beverages.

"Hey." Jongho frowned in disappointment, his hand halfway shoved in his pocket from trying to dig out money to pay himself.

"It's my treat." You smiled, lifting your stein up. "We're celebrating your big win, after all."

Jongho raised his large mug as well, clinking it with yours before taking a few large gulps of the butterscotch-flavored beverage.

Jongho let out an ahh sound, setting his glass down on the bar top. You chuckled softly at the foam that clung to his upper lip which made him look even more adorable than usual.

"What?" He inquired.

"You've got a little something here." You gestured on your own face.

"Oh." He laughed, his ears turning a light shade of pink as he grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"You got hit pretty hard by that one chaser on Slytherin. I thought you were going to get knocked off your broom. Are you alright?"

Jongho instinctively rubbed his shoulder while thinking back on the moment he got rammed in the side by one of Slytherin's chasers the day before.

"Yeah I'm fine. A little sore, but he didn't hit me that hard. It's nothing I can't handle."

You shook your head and stifled a laugh.

Jongho was a tough cookie and a strong person both mentally and physically, but that didn't stop you from checking up on him.

"So, should we shop while we're here?" You inquired before taking another drink of your butterbeer.

You could see the faintest hint of a smile playing at Jongho's lips. He loved Hogsmeade and always seemed so entranced by what it had to offer. Even after all these years you can still see how mesmerized he is by everything.

"We could... you know since we're in town." He responded.

"Alright. We can go wherever you want."

His face lit up at your offer.

Once your glasses had been emptied and your craving for butterbeer had been satiated, you and Jongho set off into Hogsmeade to browse the shops and see what grabbed your attention.

"Could we go into Spintwitches?" He asked you in an almost unsure manner, but you could tell by the gleam in his eye that he really wanted to go.

"Of course. Like I said, we'll go wherever you want."

As soon as you stepped foot in the sporting goods shop, you could see Jongho's face brighten, his eyes darting to all the different displays inside.

"Check it out." He marveled, scurrying over to one of the brooms on display.

Your eyes moved to the card set up with the name written across it.

"Hogwarts House Broom." You read aloud.

"It's enchanted to display the house colors of the owner." Jongho informed.

"Woah."

"Yeah. It's pretty awesome, isn't it?"

You nodded.

Though you were a pureblood wizard and Jongho was muggle-born, he seemed to have much more knowledge on quidditch than you. He knew anything and everything about types of brooms and what they do, whereas you didn't.

"This one can go up to seventy miles per hour." He pointed. "It's called the Silver Arrow. You see how the broom itself is made to look like an arrow?"

You nodded.

Honestly, you could listen to Jongho talk about brooms all day just to be able to see the enthusiastic expression on his face. Often times you find yourself thinking back on the day you first met him and how nervous he was to be attending Hogwarts. Now, he fits right in.

Jongho continued spouting off facts about each broom while you both perused the store for a few more minutes before deciding to move on.

"Where to next?" He inquired.

"How about Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop?"

He nodded and you both made your way in that direction.

Upon entering the quaint shop, the scent of parchment and ink reached your senses, a content smile settling onto your features. Displayed on the shelves were different quills that ranged in appearance. Some had fluffy, white feathers while others were flat with patterns on them. Your attention was drawn to a stunning peacock quill, the vibrant array of colors piquing your interest.

You had always been drawn to the captivating quill ever since you enrolled at Hogwarts years ago. Though with its flamboyant appearance, you had passed on buying one, not wanting to cause a distraction during class.

"I never really cared for quills." Jongho commented. "They're difficult to use and you have to keep dipping it in ink."

"Yeah, I can't understand why the school would still want to use them when there are things like pens."

"Ah." He chuckled, thinking back on when your professor for muggle appreciation class allowed everyone to try one out. "You were mesmerized by those things."

"How could I not be? They're much more convenient than a quill. You don't have to constantly dip it in ink."

"Stopping to dip your quill in ink seems like a waste of time if you think about how many times you have to do it during one class period." Jongho mentioned.

"Exactly!" You pointed. "I didn't even think about that."

A small laugh of amusement slipped out of Jongho as he shook his head. Seeing you getting fired up about pens versus quills was entertaining to him.

Moving right along, you started browsing the parchment and notebooks stacked on a shelf. One in particular had caught your eye and had you walking over to it, picking it up from the stack. You ran the pads of your fingers over the intricate embossed design in the leather of the notebook, tracing the swirls and curls on the cover. You enjoyed journaling and writing down good and exciting things that have happened to you, even sometimes writing down bad things just to vent your emotions. The pages in the current notebook you owned were only halfway filled, so there was no need to purchase the one you held in your hands, but it sure was pretty. Maybe you'd come back for it later when you needed a new journal.

You proceeded to the next display, perusing the items for a few moments before noticing Jongho's absence. He was standing with you when you first entered the store, but now you weren't sure where he had wandered off to.

After searching the shop for about a minute, you found Jongho looking at an inkwell filled with rainbow ink, turning the small glass jar around in his hand with a confused pout on his pretty lips that had your heart doing front flips.

"Do people actually use this?" He asked once you were close enough to hear him.

"Only for fun or pranks. It's not really suitable for classwork."

"Ah." He placed it back on the shelf. "People here seem to love their jokes. Prank quills, prank socks, a prank shop."

"Yeah." You chuckled. "Some people do. You'd be surprised how good business is at Zonko's."

"Are you ready to go?" Jongho asked, looking to see that you didn't have anything in your hands.

"Yeah. I didn't find anything."

"Alright. Moving on, then."

Your day at Hogsmeade was a lot of fun. You had stayed in town so long that you decided to grab lunch. Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough and Jongho had paid for your meal, which you shyly thanked him for. At the end of the day, you each left town with a bag of sweet treats from Honeydukes and a new piece of clothing from Gladrags. Jongho found a nice jacket and you managed to snag a pair of pants you had your eye on for a while.

"Thanks for taking me out today." Jongho told you on your walk back to the school.

"It was nothing. I wanted to celebrate your big win, plus I needed a day out. Can't be focused on studies all the time."

"Right." He chuckled.

Once inside the castle, the both of you parted ways to head to your respective dormitories, Jongho standing in the hallway for a moment, watching you walk away.

I should have said something. He thought to himself. It would have been the perfect opportunity. He let out a short huff of disappointment.

Maybe next time.

Jongho took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He had gone over everything at least a hundred times.

"Just say what you need to say. It's no big deal."

Gryffindors were supposed to be courageous and brave, but Jongho was currently lacking that trait. He wanted so badly to confess his feelings to you, but all he could think about was the many ways you'd reject him:

"I only see you as a friend."

"I like someone else."

"I'm sorry. I don't feel the same."

"I don't date muggles."

He groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. It shouldn't be this big of a deal.

If only he had something that could help him out, give him that little boost of courage he needed.

Then, suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. A bravery potion. That's it! He knew how to make that. He just learned it a few weeks ago in potions class. Pulling out his cauldron, he went through the ingredients he remembered were used in the concoction, pulling them out and lining them along the desk.

Less than an hour later, he held a glass bottle in his hands, swirling the liquid around inside while examining it. He had never taken a potion before and was a little nervous, but he needed this. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to confess properly unless he had just a little bit of courage.

"I hope this works." He murmured before downing the potion.

You were walking down the hallway when Jongho came around the corner with a little pep in his step. It was evening and classes were over for the day, so you assumed that's why he appeared so chipper.

"There you are, pretty."

Your body stiffened, your heart leaping at the unexpected nickname.

"Pretty?" You whispered under your breath.

As soon as you were within reach, Jongho took hold of your hand and rubbed his thumb affectionately across your knuckles.

"I'm glad I found you. We need to talk."

"We do?" You questioned. "About what?"

"Follow me."

Jongho led you down the stone corridors of the castle until you arrived at a somewhat secluded area of the school that was, for the moment, free of any students or teachers.

"Is everything alright?" You asked, mildly concerned that he needed to discuss something serious with you.

"You're so beautiful." He sighed out, ignoring your question. "Have I ever told you that?"

Your eyes widened as a faint warmth touched your cheeks. "No."

"You are. Y/n, you are so stunning."

What's with the sudden compliments?

Jongho gazed at you dreamily. "You make my heart race every time I'm near you and when I see you in the crowd at quidditch games cheering for me, it makes me feel so giddy I can't even explain it. Sometimes I wish I could run up to you after a successful game and kiss you. I'd lift you off your feet and spin you around just like in the movies."

"Jongho." You uttered in disbelief.

"I love you so much, Y/n."

You could see the look in his eyes and tell by the way he was sputtering all of these confessions that something wasn't right.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"I'm fine." He giggled. "Better than ever."

You pressed your lips together in concern, cupping his cheeks to examine him.

"Please kiss me, Y/n."

You gasped softly at the request, your cheeks set ablaze. Oh how you wanted to give in. You wanted so badly to lock lips with him right then and there, but this wasn't right.

"What did you do, Jongho?" You asked.

"My name sounds so nice coming from your mouth, pretty." He sighed out.

"Jongho."

He giggled in response.

"What did you take?"

He reached into his bag and pulled out an empty bottle, handing it to you. You brought it to your nose, sniffing it, the scent of bubblegum reaching your senses.

Babbling Beverage.

"Jongho." You groaned. "What have you done?"

"It's a bravery potion, Y/n. No need to worry." He smiled almost drunkenly.

"This isn't a bravery potion, this is a Babbling Beverage. It makes you speak nonsense."

He scoffed in offense. "I'm not speaking nonsense."

"Come here." You brought him over to the corner of the secluded hallway, so you'd have a little more privacy.

"Are you mad at me?" Jongho asked.

"No, but why did you do it?"

"I wanted to confess to you but I was too scared. Isn't that silly? You told me Gryffindors are brave, and I usually am, but not today." He rested his head against the wall. "I needed something to help me so I brewed a bravery potion—or at least I thought it was."

"You... wanted to confess to me?"

"Yes. I like you so much, Y/n. You're so beautiful and funny and kind and you made me feel so welcomed on that very first train ride to Hogwarts. You were the first friend I ever made."

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words. Though he was under the influence of a potion, his words seemed genuine.

Jongho took his bag off, letting it fall to the ground as he stepped closer to you.

"I want to kiss you so badly." He murmured.

"I'm not sure that's a good ide-" Your sentence went unfinished as he gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger.

Staring into his captivating eyes, you found yourself wanting to give in, your gaze darting down to his pouty lips and imagining how soft they probably felt. Having his face so dangerously close to yours had you wanting to throw caution to the wind.

"Can I?" He asked.

The tone of his voice was so soft yet temping at the same time. Without mulling it over any further, you nodded.

Jongho didn't let another second pass before his lips landed on yours—and yes, they were soft. Right away, you reciprocated his actions, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

His fingers released your chin, moving to the back of your neck to pull you even closer, the action also causing your lips to press further into his. You could feel every dip and curve of his mouth, the sensation making your closed eyelids flutter. Your hands, which had been balled into fists at your sides, latched onto his shoulders, staying there for only a few moments before your fingers slid into his hair. Jongho's arm snaked its way around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You gasped at his action, noting how strong he was and how tightly he was holding you against him with just one arm.

It was clear Jongho was starting to get comfortable as his kisses got more heated and somewhat sloppy. He began nipping lightly at your bottom lip, letting out quiet sighs when your nails grazed the nape of his neck.

"Keep doing that, pretty." He exhaled against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine and a rush of butterflies to your abdomen.

You boldly grabbed a handful of his hair and gave it an experimental tug, a quiet groan from him vibrating against your lips immediately after. His hand that was cupping the back of your neck dropped to your waist, squeezing your hip tightly. He then took a step forward, backing you against the stone wall behind you.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamt of this." He murmured, placing a kiss on your jawline

Heavy breaths escaped your lips, your chest heaving up and down while attempting to catch your breath. You had no idea Jongho could kiss so passionately... or boldly, and you were pleasantly surprised by this discovery.

"You're not the only one." You confessed.

He lifted his head to meet your gaze.

"I'm not?"

"No."

Jongho knew when you kissed back that it more than likely meant you felt the same about him as he does you, but hearing you practically confess had him reeling. He wanted to hear more.

"It's probably obvious at this point, but I'm head over heels for you, Jongho."

Still under the influence of the potion, Jongho blurted the first thought in his head.

"I love the way you say my name."

His lips were on yours again, hot and heavy. His kisses were desperate and fast-paced, making you weak in the knees. The Babbling Beverage made one speak nonsense and didn't have an effect on how they kissed, so this was all Jongho.

Your fingers curled around the collar of his robes, fisting the fabric in desperation while he practically devoured you.

It was at that moment, your foot bumped something on the floor which caused you to part ways. Glancing down, you found Jongho's bag that had been discarded only a few moments earlier lying on its side with something sticking out of it.

"What's this?" You asked, reaching for the object that had fallen out of his bag. It was wrapped in brown paper with twine tied around the it, a sprig of lavender tucked into the bow knotted neatly in the middle.

"Oh." The look on his face told you that it was something you weren't supposed to see.

The effects of the potion seemed to be wearing off as he dropped his head into his hands, letting out a groan of frustration.

"I was supposed to give that to you first, before I confessed." He grumbled, his voice muffled by his palms.

When he lifted his head, he saw that you were smiling.

"You got me something?"

"Yeah, but I messed it all up. I had a plan. Give you the gift, then confess. That stupid potion." He muttered the last part.

He only wanted something to give him a tiny boost of courage and instead he made the wrong thing and made himself babble like a fool. Then again, he did have an incredible makeout session with you, so did everything really go wrong?

"Here." He picked up the item and handed it to you.

You carefully took the gift from him, running your fingertips over the lavender.

"You wrapped it yourself?"

He nodded, holding his hands behind his back and rocking back on his heels.

Plucking the sprig of lavender out of the twine, you undid the knot and pulled back the wrapping. Inside was the leather-bound journal you were admiring at Scrivenshaft's just a day ago.

A quiet gasp left your lips. "How did you know?"

As far as you were aware, Jongho had been looking at inkwells when you were perusing the journals.

"I saw you eyeing it in the shop." He responded, holding back a grin, clearly proud of himself.

"You didn't have to."

"I know."

"Thank you." You embraced him in a one-armed hug. "Also, don't worry about how things went today. I think everything turned out perfect. And if I'm being honest, I really enjoyed that little kiss we shared."

"Little?" He raised a brow.

"Okay, not so little."

"I'd be happy to do it again." He grinned, leaning forward only for you to press your finger to his lips, halting his actions.

"Maybe later. I heard some voices down the hall a few seconds ago. Don't wanna get caught."

He pouted, his pillowy lips pressing against your index finger. Unable to resist his puffed out cheeks and pleading eyes, you let out a short sigh, caving immediately.

"We can go to the library. We're less likely to get caught there."

Jongho nodded vigorously in agreement, taking your hand and pulling you down the corridors towards the library, eager to lock lips with you once again.

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny

#jongho x reader #choi jongho x reader #jongho x you #choi jongho x you #jongho x y/n #choi jongho x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez hogwarts au #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios

[sparkbeast20]

What are Unholyc's

This was brought to my attention cause I saw this post by the @thrones-of-buer

Now, Spoilers for Love Unholyc.

Unholyc's are:

Unholyc are the descendants of Asmodeus, an ancient demon king of lust that descended upon this land a long time ago.

Apparently, he fell in love with humans and gave birth to the first generation of Unholycs. They resemble Asmodeus in that they have the ability to charm and seduce others while being able to use powers like most devils.

In Love Unholyc (PrettyBusy)

Story:

The player is named Mir by default. Though an Unholyc, she isn't interested in anything other than games and isn't able to fully control her charm ability. However, she is always extremely happy and active. Her coming of age ceremony is approaching and she might become a decent Unholyc after that. (…Maybe?)

Mir lives alone with her butler, William, who takes care of everything in the house and is very devoted, despite his aggressive personality. We are hinted that she is from a great Unholyc lineage but isn't conscious of it.

To get successfully past her coming of age ceremony, she needs a lot of acme, vital energy she can get from a contract with another being. Following the instructions of a letter she received from a very prominent Unholyc, she goes to a tailor shop where she meets three very handsome men with an aura resembling an Unholyc.

She accidentally starts the contract ritual. Though she discovers that they are humans, they all agree on the contact anyway.

The whole story revolves around Mir/MC getting through the seven days to complete her coming-of-age ritual to become a full pledged Unholyc.

In Season 1 of the game Mir/MC is focus on growing her connection with the three main Love interests Jung Hi, Sol, and Leo.

(Using this cause I like their season 2 sprites much better then their season 1's sprites)

Through out the week, you will choice dialog with some are specific for a love interest. Beware there are comedic/bad endings in the game if you don't get Affinity(Relationship) Levels.

But on the seventh day, base on you're choses. The Li who has most affinity will be your main route in season 2.

However Season 1 ended with Eater (The main threat and you're other love interest for season 3) killing the three Lis and William (Your Butler/other love interest for season 3) use his ability to manipulate time, restarting the week.

And that where we start with Season 2, Mir/MC going back to Ripeato where she meets the three again, they remember what happened and promise to not let what happened on the seventh day again and promise to protect Mir/MC.

Unholyc's Ability

It seems that base on both games, Unholycs and Devils have specific ability.

In WHB each devils have a specific talent/ability and some like healer class would be affiliated to a certain region.

In LU, William has the ability to manipulate time how ever what happened with S1, his paid the price and his body reverted back into-

Anywho

There is a character named Pierce who has the ability into the future.

Eater has the ability to eat other Unholycs and take their abilities.

There are three others, Zenon, Shallote, and James Roger but I can't remember what their abilities are.

Can a human be an Unholyc?

The answer is yes... Though...

I want to mention cause my possible theory of Minhyeok doing this ritual and becomes an Unholyc lol.

There also this.

What William is talking about here, happened. This was Sol's Dark/Bad ending.

*I still what to see a DLC for each of the bad endings*

Connection to What in "Hell" is bad?

And that's it.

Hope this helps y'all :D

#what in “hell” is bad? #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad? #prettybusy love unholyc #love unholyc #whb sitri #whb ppyong #whb asmodeus #love unholyc spoilers #love unholyc sol #love unholyc william #whb thoughts #whb theory

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Innocence

Ilsa Faust x Fem! Metropolis Reader

Summary: How many variables go awry with one appearance of a hidden player? What would the Entity have done if a third party appeared in the array of pre-determined, algorithm-generated deaths?

Warnings: Side character death, angst.

A/N: Fuck you Christopher McQuarrie and Erik Jendresen!!!! Killing a beloved female side character to 'motivate' the male protagonist is the definition of FUCKING FRIDGING!!!! The side character death will be resolved, should there be demand for future chapters.

Word Count: 4.0k (DAMN)

Perhaps it had been the rain, the chill it had brought to your bones. But regardless, something was afoot. The streets of Venice were unnaturally quiet, and the party you had left emphasized that fact; a ringing sang in your ears. You walked alone on the streets, quietly enjoying the soft patter of the rain that trembled down the drains. Dodging the Metropolis body guards had been easy, it was a high stakes night for Alanna, a high stakes night for you.

Unfortunately, things did not stay peaceful.

Commotion sprung out among the party goers, and you heard distant gunfire. Things had begun. Sprinting was your only option, but with the heels you'd chosen it was more likely you were to twist an ankle over the cobblestone than escape. Finding a dark corner, you managed to brace yourself against a wall, snapping your heels off, flattening them so you could take longer strides. You weren't the only person using the dark side of the building to escape. A shout, some commotion, and quick footwork as a woman scaled down a building, dropping in front of you.

She was within a foot of you, so close that on motion of the arm could land a hit, a punch, or perhaps push away the strands of hair that lay glued to her sweaty face.

“…Hi?”

She makes eye contact with you, momentarily spooked.

“You’re one of the Metropolis siblings."

A statement, and observation.

"Yes...?"

"You're not supposed to be at this party."

The two of you stared at one another for some time, both of you breathing heavily. She had blue eyes, distinct Scandinavian features. An English accent amongst the native Italian accented english. You pinned her as a foreigner, and from the equipment she used and the quick way she discerned who you were and your presumed whereabouts, she was also an intelligence operative.

“MI6?” you rasped.

The woman shook her head, a flicker of annoyance creeping over her features.

“There’s no time to talk, come on.” she huffed, grabbing you arm and pulling you towards an alleyway.

“Now hold on, I don’t know you-”

She turned on her heel, pulling the two of you into a doorway alcove, keeping her words clipped and quietly delivered.

“You’re (Reader) Metropolis. You were not supposed to be at this party, you weren’t even supposed to be in Italy. Things are going on beyond your understanding, and the Entity-”

“-The Entity? For fucks sake, that’s a myth.”

The woman raised her eyebrow, computing your response rapidly.

“No. No it is not. I’ve read your profile, the youngest child, a ten, fifteen year age gap between you and Alana?” the woman listed. “You were an affair baby, you were just recently integrated into the family, you serve as a glorified accountant…” Ilsa listed. “You aren’t a Metropolis type, even with your name and lineage.”

She spoke so eloquently, in a self-assured manner. You wanted to argue with her, or at the very least find something in her thought process to correct, but she was right on all accounts.

“Fine. Why are we in a dark alleyway, why do you know so much about me, and why don’t I know a damn thing about you?”

The woman squared her shoulders.

“My name is Ilsa Faust. I was a former agent for British Intelligence, I’ve gone rogue, I work alongside the equally rogue Ethan Hunt. And you, Ms. Metropolis, are innocent.”

Innocence. What a strange thing to equate to you.

“I beg your pardon?” you raised an eyebrow.

Ilsa sighed, looking around before pressing a finger to her headset. 

“Benji. I can’t be the one to go after Grace.”

You watched her grimace, silently mouthing a few choice expletives.

“I know that. But I just… The youngest Metropolis is here. Metropolis, daughter of Max, the...” she paused, looking at you apologetically, “... Bastard child. The daughter of that old field agent friend of Ethan’s.”

She paused, seemingly listening to Benji as the poor man appeared to panic. You could hear the tonal fluctuations from your proximity a good foot aways.

“Yes, but it’s Ethan. He won’t see it that way. I know he'll be upset, but maybe it’s for the better.”

The line went quiet, and then there was a soft command. Ilsa nodded, looking at you.

“You’re coming with me.”

“Like hell I am, my mother taught me about stranger danger.” 

You stood your ground, arms firmly crossed one over the other. Ilsa looked at you tiredly, seeming to mentally prepare herself for some gargantuan task.

“Do me a favor and pretend to be drunk.”

You frowned, not comprehending. Ilsa lunged forward, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you over her shoulder.

“Hey! I’m not a child, and this dress is short!”

Ilsa let out an annoyed huff, reaching up to pull your dress down.

“Sorry, princess.”

You heard commotion, what sounded like men running. Their shouts and mixed dialect could be heard from somewhere a half block away.

“Now is not the time to tell me you’re a bad actor.” Ilsa whispered.

Under threat of exposure, possible abduction and Alanna probably, definitely strangling you should she catch wind of this, complying was the only option. You went limp, arms and neck dangling as the men drew closer. They didn’t give you or Ilsa a second glance. She was mostly overlooked in favor of your bottom, of which you were begrudgingly aware of.

“Good girl.” Ilsa murmured once the men had passed, patting your rear.

“Oh.. Hey!” you blushed.

“Sorry. I was aiming for your back.”

“Yeah, my ass. Literally.” you retorted.

Ilsa let out a startled bark of laughter, amused. But she was quick to set you down, and noting the flimsy nature of your shoes, did so gently. You looked at her, a bit dizzy from the sudden rush of blood from your head to the rest of your body.

“You okay?”

“Give me a second, dizzy.”

But you two had little time. A com from Benji came through on Ilsa’s headset. Ilsa’s face went white, and she proceeded to grab you by your arm, booking it through the winding streets of Venice.

“I’m in heels, you will break my ankle if you keep pulling!” you sourly informed her.

“This is a matter of life and death. Kindly quiet yourself.” Ilsa snapped back.

A matter of life and death? Why was it always one of those? Two figures came into view, both stood atop of a canal bridge. You recognized neither of them, a tall man with salt and pepper hair and another brunette woman. He was stalking over to her, knife in hand. Her breathing was irregular, labored. But Ilsa was faster, approaching Gabriel, assuredly drawing forth a large sword. Gabriel brandished Grace’s switchblade, leaving the woman to pass out on the bridge. 

“I hoped it'd be you.” Gabriel smiled.

“...”

You admired Ilsa's silence, her quiet appraisal of the man. The sparring began almost immediately, and it didn’t take a trained eye to see that they were evenly matched. But something was wrong. He was pushing her into a corner, and then the sword was gone. They fought over the switchblade, each getting a few slashes in. But Ilsa was getting weaker, or clumsier. A brief thought flashed over you. What if she died? What if he saw you? What if he saw you and you didn’t have anything to fight with? You needed that sword. This woman... She'd said that this was a matter of the Entity, and your sister had taken pains to ship you out to Berlin on short notice. You'd taken even larger pains to make it appear as if you had. If you weren't supposed to be here, then maybe you had an advantage over this man, over this Entity. But you had to think fast.

“Hey, asshole!” you shouted, hurling a small, fractured chunk of cobblestone at the man.

The rock hit Gabriel’s forehead just as he looked up, stunning him. It was a good hit, and it bought you time, but not enough. You lunged for the sword, but he was faster. The scuffle that ensued was brief, he was better equipped, and stronger. His eyes went wild as he snatched the switchblade again, aiming for your heart. The switchblade cut into your shoulder, and pain bloomed as the blade wedged itself into the socket. He’d missed. A scream tore its way out of your lungs, and white hot pain flashed through your mind’s eye. A grunt came from above as Ilsa landed a kick to his chest. The sword was knocked loose, toppling over the bridge. And with that the only remaining weapon was the switchblade lodged in your shoulder. Both Ilsa and the mystery man lunged for it, but both pulled back before grabbing it, seemingly for different reasons. The man’s eyes went wide with fear and recognition, and he stalked back quickly.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Metropolis.” he paled. “You were supposed to be in Berlin… You’re not… The Entity didn’t..”

He landed one more kick to Ilsa before running. His footsteps were quick, and he disappeared into the veins of the city, his footsteps dying away as if he was a ghost, as if he was never there. Ilsa watched him, breathlessly speaking to Benji about the semantics of the encounter. She was breathing heavily, and it was difficult to understand her. Both she and Benji devolved into thick, almost indiscernible Midlands accents as they spoke and often interrupted one another. Benji’s voice was so loud that you could hear whispers of it through her headset. Ilsa crouched over you, examining the wound and cussing. She appeared just as frazzled as your mystery attacker, mumbling something about innocents and bloodlines.

“Fuck me, kid. Just had to get stabbed.” Ilsa mumbles, pausing her complaining to briefly tear off a bit of your dress, “And I’ve got another head trauma to deal with, and Ethan is off the fucking grid.”

A man broke through the street, panting heavily, eyeing the slowly awakening Grace and the incoherently mumbling Ilsa as she secured the knife wound to prevent it from escaping. He’d run from the opposite end of the city, as if he’d been running in circles.

“Where’s Gabriel?” Ethan asked. “And who is… Baby Metropolis?” 

Ilsa eyed him, nodding. She was busy tying the fabric of your torn dress around your shoulder. It must have been precaution, the knife prevented excess blood from escaping. 

“He stabbed baby Metropolis?”

Ilsa nodded again, gently picking up your now shivering frame. It was cold in Venice tonight, and without the rush of adrenaline it was very clear just how cold it was. Ethan, or John Lark as you knew him, stumbled forward, hastily taking you from Ilsa.

“It’s going to be okay, it’s all going to be alright.” Ethan says, in his signature ‘I’m saving the day’ voice.

The voice didn’t help. He was John Lark to your eyes; a madman.

“I know, Jesus. Get off!” you protested, trying to get away from the short, scary man.

Ilsa chuckled a bit at this. It appears Ethan’s usual charms wouldn’t work on you, and for good reason. A boat sped through the canal, and you recognized the driver by his voice. Benji? There was another man on the boat, large and equipped with a fedora. Both looked a bit shell-shocked, seeing the aftermath of the commotion on the bridge.

“Luther, get her in the boat.” Benji needlessly directed the other man as he was already pulling Grace in.

Luther examined Grace’s head for signs of abrasion while Ethan and Ilsa lowered you into the boat. Ilsa held you steady, your back pressed against her front, one of her arms wrapped  around your midsection, the other cradling your head as the boat sped through the canal once more. Ethan was hastily gloving up, and a brief concern over sterility dawned on you, but it wasn’t as if you had a choice.

“This is a hospital wound.” Ethan sighed.

“We can’t go to the hospital, Ethan.” Luther warned.

“I know that.” Ethan snapped back. “Cover her mouth.” Ethan directed Ilsa.

Ilsa’s hand fitted firmly over your mouth, her other arm holding your torso against hers. You tensed immediately. What the hell was Lark going to do to you?

“Breathe in and…” Ilsa directed.

Ethan pulled the switchblade out as you exhaled, the scream dying off as you ran out of air. The noise that was ultimately muffled by Ilsa’s hand was that of a high pitched wheeze. Ilsa’s hand remained, a wordless understanding between Ethan and Ilsa. Blood gushed from the wound immediately, and Ethan mumbled something about missing major arteries and cut tendons. Not like it mattered to you, Ilsa’s hand kept your head up, your mouth covered.You couldn’t see the damage for yourself.

“Breathe in, and out. In… Out…. In….” she continued.

With another quick jerk, Ethan pushed your shoulder back in its proper socket. This time your scream was much more audible, even with Ilsa muffling it. Grace winced as she watched. The blade had wedged itself into the socket, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Good girl, good job.” Ilsa whispered, breaking the tension. “I know it hurts, it would have been worse if you knew it was coming.”

Her hand left your mouth, fingers gently pulling through your hair, a soothing motion. Ethan moved on to stitching up the knife wound, or so you thought. The needle went deeper. 

“Oh Jesus Christ…” Grace paled.

You tilted your head to look, but Ilsa was faster, not letting you see. The needle bit in, and you winced. Ethan had a skilled hand, but it was clear he was stitching something deeper. 

“Ethan, is that really necessary?” Benji asked. “You’ve got her whole shoulder airing out in this dirty city.

“The tendon was sliced, it needs to be stitched up.”

Luther appeared just off to the side, gloved up and gently dabbing iodine all around and in the wound. It stung like a bitch, and you clenched your teeth as you hissed in pain. Your natural instinct directed you to look again, but Ilsa kept your head in place.

“Don’t look. If you look you’ll get hysterical or ill.” Ilsa murmured. “Now stay still.”

You wanted to stay still, you really did. But you didn’t have a pleasant sight. Grace looked practically green, from both her concussion and the sight of your open wound, and Luther had a worried look on his face. Benji wasn’t better, with that permanent anxious frown on his features. The biting sensation in your shoulder only continued as Ethan worked on stitching up the various tendons that had gotten cut. It was Ilsa who noticed your rapid, panicked breathing.

“No, no.” Ilsa protested, tilting your face to look at her. “Look at me, breathe in and out, none of this ragged panting you’re doing. You’re not going into shock, we don’t have time for that.”

Her stern, authoritative approach was what you needed to stay afloat in the midst of Ethan’s suturing. She had this soft frown on her face, her hand firmly holding your head in place as she murmured to you.

“Benji is driving us to the safehouse. You’re coming with us, you hear?”

Ilsa outlined the plan, the various things she was going to do, baths, medicine, sleep, food. All the things you would need to get better. By the time Ethan started suturing the skin, her nose was barely touching yours, her words floating over you like mist. She kept your head in place, murmuring softly as her blue eyes twinkled in the dim light. It was… Intimate. More intimate than other things you’d experienced. Why was it always the barrier between life and death, ailment and health that always brought forth the most romantic moments. It was something your mother had said… All friendships are romantic. Perhaps all beginnings of friendships could be interpreted as such.

“Iodine.” Ethan curtly directed

The yellow antiseptic stung, and you winced. Luther had a gentle hand, and he’d used it throughout the process, but it was the freshly sutured skin that burned the most. Ilsa stroked your cheek, shifting her other arm to hold your injured shoulder in place. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d been trying to move it. 

“No moving this, you hear?”

“Wasn’t gonna.” you mumbled.

The boat stalled. Benji stood up, gesturing everyone to leave the boat, but his words died in his throat. His eyes bulged, a shocked expression on his face. The shot had been so quiet, the whizzing was all that had been audible. Benji jerked, and red bloomed at the front of his chest. Ethan was quick to support him, still gloved up from his work on you. The quiet moment of the canal was broken. Everyone was moving except you. There was arguing, many voices crumpled into one echochamber of chaos, Grace holding Benji as Luther held Ethan back. For a little man, Ethan was vicious when angry, intending to follow the unseen sniper and mercilessly  deliver his body to the canal. The boat rocked violently, and Ilsa shouted continuously, mostly at Ethan to calm down. Her grip on you was tight, her hands placed over vital areas on your abdomen. She was protecting you should another shot fire. Benji met your eyes, his hand held over the gunshot wound. He looked gray, as if life had been sucked out of him the moment the bullet hit its target.

“Gabriel was going to send a message either way.” Benji rasps, his voice bringing sense back into Ethan.

Ilsa left you on the boat as she helped Grace carry Benji into the safehouse. It was clear that there would be no second shot, and you were safe in the belly of the boat. Ethan breathed irregularly, the muscles in his neck tensing and relaxing as he seemed to be pushing aside his anger. He too left the boat, leaving Luther to attend to you. There was an uneasy stillness in the air, and Luther moved to pick you up, pausing at the brief fear that appeared in your eyes.

“I’m… You don’t know who most of us are, do you?” he asked, intuitive in more ways than one.

You shook your head, taking a breath in to steady your nerves before answering.

“I know… Ilsa. Ilsa Faust, yeah? Umm.. Then there’s Lark. John Lark.”

You’d heard all of their names at least once, but you couldn’t list them in the aftermath of Benji’s snipe attack.

“That’s Ethan.” Luther corrected. “The brunette is Grace, Benji is the Englishman who’s been injured, and I’m Luther. Now let’s get you out of this boat.” he softly finished.

You pegged him as the gentle giant of the group, and he was. Gentle, at least. He carried you off of the boat, up the stairs into the Venetian safehouse. It was as still as the water outside. Why was it so still? Such a large city, and yet it felt like a ghost town. There were no arguments now. Grace sat in a corner, a bag of peas on her head. Ethan and Ilsa were in a separate room, quietly conversing as they treated Benji, as you presumed they were doing. No hospitals, they’d said. What kind of people couldn’t go to hospitals?

“Here’s some of Ilsa’s clothes. Tank top, and sweats. Bathroom’s over there.” Luther pointed. 

He stepped into the room with his other friends. It was the only room with light in the stone house. The clothes looked fresh, and your dress was dirty and torn. You didn’t see the point in maintaining your privacy with Grace staring off into space and the others presumably holding vigil over Benji. But it was difficult, grabbing the zipper. Gabriel had struck you in your more flexible, left shoulder. You couldn’t grab the zipper with your right hand.

“Here.” Grace murmured, getting up to unzip your dress. “It’s just us girls, let’s get you into these.”

Grace gently pulled off your dress, working the tank top over your injured shoulder and sliding the joggers up your body. You noticed her tired movements. She’d suffered a pretty decent blow to the head. Concussions were no joke. From this distance you could clearly make out the lines around her mouth as she pursed her lips, helping you to dress.

“Thanks. Grace, right?” you quietly asked, breaking the unnatural stillness.

She nodded, brown eyes losing their glassy look.

“Yes. You’re Baby Metropolis?”

“Oh, no my name is (Reader) Metropolis. I’m the baby of the family.” you explained.

“Ah.”

Grace settled beside you on the couch. Her shirt was half unbuttoned. But it didn’t matter. It was just us girls.

“He’s not going to make it.” Grace murmured. “If he was going to live, they should have taken him to a hospital the moment he was shot.”

You looked down at your hands, the constant pain in your shoulder contrasting with the numbness everywhere else. Benji. He’d… Somehow he was important. A piece of the puzzle, someone who struck you as innocent. Perhaps that was why his death seemed so irrational. 

“Are you in pain?” Grace realized. “That’s a dumb question, of course you are.”

She got up, rummaging through an open medical bag until she found what she was looking for. Her footsteps were soft, bare feet delicately navigating the creaky floorboards with practiced agility. She was a con of some sort. No one else would instinctively avoid the creaky floorboards of an old house.

“Take two of these.” she says.

“Extra strength tylenol?” you joked.

“Stronger.” Grace murmured, half-smile on her face.

You nodded, taking the meds. There was nothing in your stomach, so the meds dissolved quickly, taking away the pain in as little as fifteen minutes. They came with a distinct drowsy side effect, as if the world was a bit floaty. Grace wasn’t the only one who was anxious to sleep, and the two of you crept into the larger bedroom after finding a few croissants to snack on. Two king beds and empty dressers, divided into girls and boys, or so you presumed. The two of you settled under the covers, closing your eyes. Sleep came quickly. Somewhere in the twilight of the early morning, Ilsa slid into the bed behind you, an arm draped over your abdomen as you laid on your back. You didn’t need the answer to why she was so clingy. Or perhaps you had it wrong. But you wouldn’t protest this stranger’s touches. No, there was a bond there now. You’d survived such an ordeal together, such a crisis as the one you were bound in. And it felt nice, to be sandwiched in between Grace and Ilsa. You were safe here.

Morning broke, but the sun did not break this quiet. There wasn’t a word spoken. The atmosphere in the room was somber. No one needed to say it, Benji had passed. Ethan’s dead look as he sat on the couch confirmed any suspicion. Luther cooked breakfast for everyone, maintaining a sense of normality. Ethan wouldn’t accept any of Ilsa’s soft attempts to bring him food, and he wouldn’t accept her beside him, either. The Entity had taken a divergent route in its predictions. Grace and Ilsa had been failed targets, so the Entity chose to take Ethan Hunt’s friend instead. And Ethan, being the savior he was, took it hard. 

“Over here.” Grace murmured, gesturing Ilsa over to where the both of you sat.

Ilsa settled on the rug, predictably taking a seat next to you. She didn’t outright drape an arm over you, but her knee touched yours. It was a soft, innocent gesture. She wanted closeness, and you did too. Your knees stayed touching. Grace noticed the little dynamic between the two of you, shifting a little closer so she could get in on it too. Her knee came into contact with yours on the other side. Three pairs of feet lined up, three legs nestled close, shoulders flanking yours on both sides. It was cute, and you giggled, triggering Grace’s laugh too. Ilsa smiled, humming in amusement. And for a brief moment, Ethan’s eyes flickered with something other than sorrow. He picked up the plate Ilsa had left on the coffee table. And he ate. 

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#rebecca ferguson x you #rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson #ilsa faust x you #ilsa faust x reader #mission impossible #mission impossible dead reckoning part one #wlw #lesbian

[formosusiniquis]

Lineage

Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington WC: 2173 | G | Day 4: Middle Names | AO3

“What are middle names for?” The question bubbles out of Steve as he takes in the picture of Michael J. Fox in Tiger Beat.

It’s the kind of question he thinks of a lot. The kind he’d normally bury in the back of his brain to ponder over on his own when sleep is a far off concept. But Robin is different. They’re so much a part of one another that Steve has stopped holding those questions in his own brain, realizing she likes to puzzle them out and tear them apart like he does.

Only Robin’s base of smarts is a little different, sometimes these questions he has actually get real answers. 

He can feel Robin go still beneath him, his head on her shoulder just like hers is on his. With anyone else the position they’d found themselves in this afternoon would probably be uncomfortable. Sprawled out on his bed, technically back to back, Steve is using the bony knob of Robin’s shoulder to raise his head just enough that he doesn’t have to hold the magazine he’s reading up in the air. Robin has taken the top of the bed, her legs make an L where she has them stretched out against his bedroom wall, toes pointed toward the ceiling. Whatever book she’s been reading is propped up against her thighs, too far to actually read without using the binoculars Dustin left behind last week.

He flips another page in the magazine, content the way he always is with Robin, knowing that when she has finished puzzling out the order that she wants to respond to him in that she’ll speak. Steve thinks it’s probably to tell the difference between people. There are so many in the world, eventually you’re going to have two Tommy H.’s in a room and have to use that middle name.

Tommy Allen, the thought of spending two years of junior high and two and a half in high school calling Tommy that in public drags a little giggle from Steve. That would have made them losers of the highest order. Robin makes a noise that reminds Steve of Mrs. Johnson’s cat whenever he’d feed it for her when she was out of town, inquiring but also a little annoyed that you disturbed whatever it was doing before.

He shimmies his arm just enough that she knows he’ll explain it later. Once he figures out a good way to explain how much of being popular is being good at being perceived the right way. Tommy H’s can be popular, Tommy Allen’s get their slightly bucked teeth and bad laughs noticed. She isn’t going to like that, but Steve learned pretty quickly Robin doesn’t like a lot of things about how popularity actually works.

“I think,” Robin says slowly, she’s talking a little funny and Steve wonders now if she’s let the binoculars rest against her chin instead of just putting them down like a normal person. He could turn and look but figures all he’d actually see is the blurry, too close suggestion of Robin’s face. It’s better in his imagination. 

“I think,” she repeats, in his head the binoculars wiggle down her chest a little further every time her mouth moves, “it's to continue the family line. That used to be a big thing you know, it’s why men didn’t want daughters because then the family name would die out. So you’d give your kid a middle name to help continue one of the old names from the family that was just going to die if you didn’t keep making your wife have more and more babies that she probably didn’t even want.”

“Oh like JR.”

“JR?”

“Yeah, you know JR. He’s that football player that graduated two years ago. His ears stuck out weird and he always seemed to have, like, a Rudolph zit on his nose.”

“You mean Mark Williams?” She shouts, incredulous.

“Sure, I think it was Mark. His dad was definitely Mr. Williams, but they had the same name so whenever they went anywhere he always called him JR. ‘Hey JR wouldja get that for me.’ ‘If you ever wanna go pro, JR, you’re going to have to learn how to take a tackle.’”

Robin is in fits beside him, the impression is terrible but it’s also exactly what the guy used to sound like gruff but also whistley somehow.

“Wait, wait,” the bed shakes as she adjusts herself, he can feel the weird shape of her ear and the uncomfortable poke of her earrings in the cradle of his arm. “What’s your middle name?”

“You mean you didn’t see it when you rifled through my employee file to find my birthday and social security number?”

“I was looking for important information.”

“So you could steal my identity.”

“So I could make fun of you less on your birthday if it was in the summer or maybe just take the whole day off so I didn’t have to deal with the cavalcade of pretty blondes coming in to fawn over Steve Harrington, real adult man.”

“Ew, the worst way anyone has ever described me. You make it sound like I’m some kind of pervert.”

“They would want you to be,” Robin agrees, “I think it would be part of the appeal.”

“Richard.”

“Theodore.”

“No, dingus,” he relishes the moment that he gets to turn her favorite pet name against her, “my middle name is Richard.”

Robin takes that new information and digests it for at least thirty seconds, but that’s just a guess since she’s laying on the arm that has his watch on it. “Stephan Richard Harrington,” she tries out.

“The one and only.”

“It feels like there should be a number at the end. Stephan Richard Harrington the Sixth, best of his line.”

Maybe if he were a Sixth he’d like it a little better, he thinks. “No, it’s like what you said, continuing family names? Mom named me after her brother that died in the war, and Dad hated that or him or probably both knowing him so I got stuck with Richard so he could be included.”

“Robin Marie Buckley,” Robin offers in exchange.

“Ew.”

“I didn’t ew yours even though it makes you sound like a fancy little rich boy.”

“I am a fancy little rich boy,” Steve says, flipping the front of his hair with a half assed toss of his head, “you’re lying here in my ivory tower.”

“I think ivory towers have less blue plaid.”

“I like the blue plaid, it makes hanging things up easy. I’m sorry we can’t all have this season’s Laura Ashley-”

Robin is, unfortunately, at the perfect angle to punch him directly in the chest. “My parents did that to surprise me when I came back from bandcamp two years ago so I could have a more mature room as a high schooler.”

For all that it’s worth he tries not to sound mean when he snorts, the Buckleys are nice and mostly well meaning or at least they have been every time he’s visited. “And they somehow missed the dresser covered in spiky bracelets and the closet full of grandpa suspenders while they were in there.”

“They mean well,” Robin unintentionally echoes Steve’s own earlier thoughts. “They just don’t… really get me.” Her voice trails off, a little lost, and he hates himself for being the person who made Robin feel like that.

“We should change our names.”

“What and go on the lam?” Robin asks.

“We can, but I don’t think any lambs, sheep, or goats need to be involved.”

Steve sits up in bed, forcing Robin to do the same as he pulls his arm out from under her head. It only takes a quick spin before he’s facing her, grabs her arms so she can’t pull away from how totally and completely serious he’s being. “It’s like you said, it’s about family right?” He says, “You’re more family to me than my douchebag dad has ever been so why do I have to be stuck with his name when I could be Stephan Robert.”

“Not Robin?”

“Don’t wanna make it too obvious, and Robin Stephan probably wouldn’t fly at the name changing place.”

“Robin Stephanie,” she tries slowly.

“I mean obviously if I were a girl I’d go by Stevie,” he jokes.

“We can’t just change our names!” Robin says, she doesn’t sound like she believes it though so Steve is pretty sure he’s winning.

“Why can’t we, people do it all the time, I bet it’s super easy.”

“When they get married! Or like adopted. People don’t just change their names on a Tuesday because they feel like it!”

He tries to give that the thought that it deserves, but he mostly just feels like Robin is making excuses because she’s scared. Maybe it’s the leftover fear from Starcourt bubbling out in a place where she can control, or maybe she just likes her parents enough to be scared of hurting their feelings. One of those things he can relate to more than the other.

“Well Thursday would work better for my schedule.”

“Steve!”

“What! So we get married then, is that the problem? I mean I know I’m not your first choice romantically, but didn’t you say people do that so that they’re safe from people knowing they’re gay.”

Her arms are already out, ready to make a point that would probably be big and dramatic and a little long winded the way Robin likes to be when she’s all worked up like this. But he’s stopped her in her tracks. Face to face he can watch as the outrage melts into something sticky and wet like melted ice cream.

“You’d do that for me?”

“I would pretty much do everything including die for you, getting to be Stephan Robert Buckley would really be more like you doing me a favor.”

He’s getting pulled into a crushing hug before he can blink. He doesn’t mention how he can feel the wet fall of her crying against his neck, if it didn’t embarrass her, it might stop Robin from doing her best to climb inside him like she’s Luke and he’s that weird ice kangaroo. Mascara stains on the neck of his shirt are a small price to pay for a Robin Buckley embrace.

They hold each other for as long as it takes for Robin to feel regular again, and it’s nice. Steve thinks they’ll have to have a different conversation about how rarely he gets hugged just for the sake of it later. Right now this is about family and names and because Robin is family in every way that matters he doesn’t say anything when she wipes away those tears and a little snot with the back of her hand.

“You’ll have to wait until March,” she says, “I’m not getting married until I’m at least 18. I don’t want people thinking it’s some shotgun thing after working with you this summer.”

“As long as it’s before you get your dorm assignment for whatever fancy school you get into. If we’re married I’m pretty sure they have to let us live together.”

“Yeah? Even if I go somewhere like Bryn Mawr?”

He pretends like he’s giving that careful consideration, like he doesn’t already know she really wants to go to some big city where the schools might have a language program and she has a better chance of finding other people more like her.

“Well I guess we could live off campus then, if you really want to go to the lesbian school for lesbians.”

She punches him again. “It is not.”

“I wouldn't want the other lesbians to bully you for being married to a really hot guy.”

“One, I never said yes, dingus. Two, I have a whiteboard that questions how hot you are hotshot.’

“Pretty sure that got burned in the fire so you can’t use that as proof anymore you’re going to need more dates.”

“Data, you need to try to land dates.”

“Same difference.”

She pushes him until he’s laying down, grabs her book from his pillow and he takes that as his cue to go back to his magazine. It takes her a minute to decide how she wants to lay down again, he’s already back on his page about this month’s Hollywood Heartthrobs before she’s decided that his chest makes the best pillow and his arm can prop her book up for her. He isn’t sure what it is today, he wonders if she’s close enough to the beginning that he can get her to read it out loud to him, this month’s Tiger Beat really is lacking.

“Why does anyone think these guys are hot? The guys in Rolling Stone are usually better looking than Alex P. Keaton or the guy from Growing Pains. Johnny Depp is kinda okay, I guess.”

“Stephan Robert!” Robin sits upright again, and Steve thinks he might have accidentally started another capital C Conversation.

#stobin month 2024 #platonic stobin #steve and robin #steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin month #middle names #found family dynamics