#Missing Family Trees on Ancestry

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore: Tieflings

Link to Disclaimer and other lore babblings

Featuring: The two types of tiefling (Orin belongs to one of them, actually) The other races' equivalents to tieflings Various ancestors of tieflings The 2e tiefling trait chart that I miss with all my soul My inability to be 100% neutral about certain 4e changes Tiefling Homelands, such as they are

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Tieflings belong to a category known as the Planetouched; mortals descended from beings native to the outer planes. TIeflings are descended from the evil-aligned Lower Planes and at this point can be split into the newer Asmodeus tieflings and the original "generic" tieflings. (Other races have produced fiendish planetouched. Tanarukk are orcs of fiendish descent; Elven-demon hybrids called the fey'ri, or daemonfey; Dwarven descendants of the offspring of devils are maeluth; and wisplings are halflings of demonic descent.)

The original, generic tieflings are humans with a fiend or an evil deity from one of the Lower Planes in their family tree.

They appear as regular humans, usually with only one or two odd traits giving away their ancestry. Black feathers growing from their shoulders, glowing red eyes, a tail, making plants decay in their presence... wings...

The bloodline begins with the half-mortal child of a fiend or deity (a cambion, or a bhaalspawn, for example). They go on to have offspring with mortals and the child is a tiefling. The tiefling grandchild's line may continue to dilute with human blood until it seemingly disappears...

...until suddenly, possibly hundreds of years later, a family's new baby is born with six fingers or a tail or something and the village is talking about drowning the "devil" in the village stream. With a lack of understanding of what's happening, and a lot of fear, the family themselves usually reject their own child. There are only a few places in the Realms where a planetouched birth isn't considered an aberration (I'll talk about them towards the end).

The outlook for tieflings is... not good.

"Occasionally a tiefling is born to someone indifferent to its appearance, determined to redeem it, willing to exploit it, or evil enough not to care about its nature, and these tieflings are most likely to survive to adulthood." - Races of Faerûn

Even if their physical traits are not obvious, tieflings become aware from an early age that they are different, as the essence of the Lower Planes in their blood tries to compel them and they often have "strange needs, desires or urges." They can ignore these urges to be any alignment they so chose. Unfortunately, as the world around them hates them, they tend to grow up to be bitter and mistrustful; they're not terribly inclined to help people they expect to run them off in an angry mob. Some of them embrace their impulses, seeing as they're just going to be seen as monsters anyway.

Their ancestry can be from various categories:

Deities: Beshaba, goddess of misfortune is one of the more known ancestors of tieflings. Her descendants are marked by white hair and deer antlers growing from their heads. Mask, god of thieves is another ancestor; Maskarian tieflings cast no reflections. Bhaal's tieflings show no outward signs, but have inclinations towards violence and an obsession with death.

Baatezu; Devils, the Lawful Evil fiends of the Nine Hells. Erinyes (fallen angels with black wings), gelugons (ice insects) and pit fiends (giant scaly red monsters with horns) are the most common ancestors. They enjoy strict hierarchies, complicated plots, rules and contracts with lots of smallprint.

Tanar'ri: Demons, the Chaotic Evil fiends of the Infinite Layers of the Abyss ("If there's anything you don't like, you'll find it here."). The most common demonic ancestors are Mariliths (giant sexy snake warrior ladies with six arms and swords) and Succubi (who were strictly demons, until 5e decided the devils needed a soul-stealing sex monster even though they already had those and they were the exact same thing as a succubus (Brachina)). Where devils enjoy playing with contracts and mind games and the slow descent into corruption, demons are pure hunger/lust and chaos and usually go for the fast track to corruption. Orgies and mindless over-the-top violence, both at the same time, if possible. ["Devils and demons hate each other" is the biggest understatement the universe knows, and the two have been at war since basically the dawn of time. It's called the Blood War and it will never end. They are instinctually driven to destroy each other, and this is also built into their tiefling descendants.]

Other: Fiends who fall into no other category. There is actually a third category - Yugoloths, the Neutral Evil fiends, but they don't seem to make tieflings that I've seen. Night Hags are a common enough ancestor, and tieflings descended from them often have blue/violet skin, likened to the colour of bruises. Rakshasa are another one; cat eyes and occasionally fur turning up on them.

3.5e gave them a set of traits they all shared: higher reflexes; a boost to their intelligence stat (for some reason?); the ability to see in total darkness; to create areas of pitch black supernatural darkness; they were less affected by the cold and electric shocks, and their flesh and skin was slightly fire retardant. Sometimes they had an affinity for certain animals, or had wings.

Back in 2e, Tieflings were all unique and could manifest some of any number of random traits. Behold! The chart!

And then, amongst the various shit that went down as the setting was burned down around us all in 4e, Asmodeus - Archdevil of the Ninth Hell, Ruler of the Nine Hells - killed the god Azuth and elevated himself to godhood. He "defeated" the Tanar'ri in the (eternal!) Blood War and celebrated by having a circle of warlocks known as "the Toril Thirteen" to create a new strain of tieflings descended from him to remind the world to fear him. This would be fine, except he did this by ruining overwriting all the pre-existing tieflings so that they would now all be descended from him and ALL have their varied, often subtle, appearances be changed to be red skinned people with goat horns and tails regardless of if that made any FUCKIGN sense. How do you overwrite a Night Hag or Mask or.the goddamn Mulhorandi pantheon The hells and Asmodeus have zero - ZERO, connection! He has no claim-.

*ahem*

Asmodeus exerts no control over "his" tieflings, however, they are simply marked by his power. People do not like them any better than the originals, but less of them are getting killed at birth now due to being born into families of other tieflings.

The ancestry of these tieflings does not dilute over time. The child of an Asmodeus tiefling is another tiefling.

By 15th century DR (5e) the Blood War is back on and the original tieflings have begun to re-emerge in Toril, but the majority are still the Asmodeus type.

-

The generic tieflings are rare enough that the majority can go their entire lives without meeting another of their kind. Asmodeus' tieflings are uncommon, but prone to being found in small groups.

Tieflings are "persecuted and feared in most of Faerûn." (Though the gods don't give a damn, and are happy enough to manifest to them in dreams in tiefling form to the delight of the religiously inclined)

There are, however, places where they are more common.

Back before it blew up (4e!) Thay had an unusually high tiefling population. "Thayan tieflings [were] usually the grandchildren of powerful wizards, birthed as part of some power scheme, and usually [spent] their lives as slaves or pawns to both sides of the family." Obviously, these tieflings became Asmodeus tieflings due to the ritual. Afterwards the lich Szass Tam decided to turn everybody undead. Some living people returned to Thay, once it was habitable again post-Spellplague (despite still being full of liches and vampires), so there may be some Thayan tieflings remaining. TIefling descendants of the refugees of Thay can also be found in the surrounding countries. Aglarond, mostly, since Rashamen has a decidedly negative history with Thay. Mulhorand is another land with a tiefling population. Mulhorand is Ancient Egypt. Not like fantasy-equivalent to Ancient Egypt, like they're actually the descendants of Ancient Egyptians who ended up in Toril (side effect of ancient wizards kidnapping people from other worlds to enslave). Mulhorandi planetouched are the descendants of the local gods, who once ruled the country themselves when it was first founded, and the mixture of aasmiar, genasi and tieflings is significant enough to make up 2% of the total population. In the case of tieflings, that usually means their grandfather/ancestor is Set, Anhur or Sobek. Historically the priesthoods of Mulhorand enjoyed bickering, which would've been annoying as the descendant of their god/their god's enemy, but the pantheon has told them to knock it off nowadays.

Mulhorandi tieflings have their own naming conventions, taking surnames based on their ancestor; Zia or Sia preceding the god's name. Ziasobek or Sianhur, for example. In the North, Neverwinter was once host to a cult dedicated to Asmodeus (the Ashmadai) that lead to a rise in tieflings, and since that offers an opportunity to blend in with their own kind the city attracted more tiefling immigrants, and as such has a fair sized population now.

I'm also taking a third option: immigrants from the outer planes would be unusual, but tieflings are out there and some of them may decide to move to Faerûn for some reason.

Sigil is a city at the centre of the universe built into the inside of a giant ring at the top of an infinite spire that has no beginning or end. It's also the nexus point of the universe, is covered in portals and its markets have goods from everywhere in known existence. It's population also comes from everywhere in existence, so tieflings are not such an oddity. Culturally it's rather like a fantasy parody of corrupt cockney Victorianesque(?) London, if the entirety of D&D moved there.

Tieflings can also be found living in the Lower Planes themselves, usually as canon fodder in the Blood Wars.

[juno-of-wonderland]

the reader/mc is a descendant of one of the sevens

Queen of Hearts

- despite her ancestry, doesn't follow the rules so strictly, only the ones they thinks are worthwhile

- amazing croquet player, memorized all the rules and doesn't need to cheat to win every time

- strangely not a big fan of tea, not that he doesn't like it, but it wouldn't be his first drink choice 

- cliché but her favorite color would be red 

- you spend a lot of time in the Heartslabyul dorm or you are a resident, either way they are very close to the students 

- how they found out doesn't matter but I imagine it this way: they were all gathered for tea if Riddle was having one he spat out, while everyone else froze, Ace looked at them in exasperation and yelled YOU ARE DESCENDANT OF WHOSE?! 

- chaos settles in the dorm

King of Beasts

- how it happened don't ask me

- clearly you are a lion man beast

- is very smart after all they/you family values ​​the mind over strength 

- doesn't mean you're not athletic 

- if something interests you, you will spare no effort to get it, otherwise you will only do the minimum 

- loves to be sarcastic and tease others, his favorite people for this are Ace, Leona, Ruggie and Epel 

- when they discover the family tree, Leona can see it as a rival now or let it go, Ruggie wouldn't care much but he would definitely ask questions here and there, Jack would probably be more respectful than he already was

Sea Witch

- favorite hobbies: reading, cooking and watching the mafia trio (Azul, Jade and Floyd) 

- favorite of teachers 

- loves pets 

- Of course, it's an octopus mermaid 

- you certainly released information about your ancestor, something like that is an outrage, as a descendant of the witch of the seas it is my duty to help these poor unfortunate souls, everyone stops and wonders if this is true 

- Azul goes after the director and confirms everything, he will ask for business tips with that characteristic smile

Sorcerer of the Sands

- a complete riddle 

- smart, astute, calm, athletic, basically the perfect student 

- everyone has no idea what to think about you, after all you are so kind, but there are days when you wake up with this aura that you are up to something 

- some students are sure they heard a snake and a parrot coming from their room 

- the principal who comments on his family and it spreads around the school, a real annoyance 

- Kalim will be the first to jump on you (literally) and ask questions non-stop, Jamil will be behind him sighing

Fairest Queen

- it will be a Vil 2 lol 

- very photogenic and videogenic 

- has a HUGE wardrobe 

- potions? nah, the thing is to produce perfumes and have your own company 

- very artistic, knows things about this area that are even scary 

- a bit dreamy and romantic 

- it's public knowledge that your blood comes from the queen, so no surprises for anyone 

- I think I would only have political relationships in Pomefiore

Lord of the Underworld

- ...lazy...just a little 

- sarcastic as hell 

- her flaming hair is hidden with magic but nothing that a good surge can't make it shine and break the illusion, if your hair is long, it will look like Idia's 

- speaking of this boy, someone saved him, as he would be his main source of entertainment 

- you are a bit unlucky 

- he is in Idia's room along with Ortho, just browsing around until a news item in which his face and that of hades are side by side and in the title it says "the youngest descendant of the lord of the underworld" 

- olympus is being cursed and Idia is freaking out about how disturbing you look

Fairy of Thorns

- former fae royalty 

- doesn't mean it's not respected there 

- amazing with magic, never missed a spell 

- sure, you have horns and maybe you have green skin 

- polite and elegant 

- the night is like a sister 

- has a small garden of carnivorous plants and poisonous plants 

- Malleus, Lilia, Silver and Sebek know his identity and it is because of the last individual that the rest of the school finds out

[eaingels]

Until I found you Part 1

Summary: Eloise, a human with Fae ancestry, moves to the Night Court in hopes of finding out where her family came from and why they left. Trough-out her search for answers, she meets the witty, brave and handsome Cassian. Even though, she thinks that she isn't worthy of affection, she can't help but crave his.

Authors note: hello everyone this is my first ever post here, so I hope you like it. English is not my first language so bare with me please. This will discuss topics like being self body shaming and having low self-esteem. If you are not comfortable reading about it, please don't read it. Please leave a comment so I can improve my writing.

Hope you enjoy it!!

"ppfpft" I tried getting the hair out of my mouth while crossing the bridge over the Sidra. There was so much wind today, I regretted my decision of not grabbing a hair tie with me. People around me gave me weird looks as I tried to get a hold of my hair before I gagged on it. I kept walking over the stone bridge hoping that once I was surrounded by buildings the wind would die down. My wishes were granted, I was past the bridge and my hair was done choking me for now. My mind turned to my impending visit to the library and my request to visit the library in the House of Wind. I was so close to finding my ancestors, I could feel it. Almost three thousand years ago some Fae moved from the Night Court to my hometown. And it wasn't until my grandfather and I started digging into our past that we were able to find a connection with the Fae and our family tree. A shred of grief that had found it's home in my stomach rose up of the memory of my grandfather. He had been my best-friend and had never judged me for wanting to have more knowledge. So when he passed away, I made a promise to myself that I would get to the bottom of it.

The big oak doors leading into the entrance hall of the library stood open, inviting everyone to come a take a look. The library itself wasn't too busy, but busy enough for there to be a line at the help desk. I looked around while waiting for my turn when I suddenly heard a loud laugh coming from inside the library. Two men and a woman were walking out the library. Both men had huge black wings at theirs backs and some kind of leather fighting gear on. The woman on the other hand, had glossy blond hair and the finest clothes I had ever seen. She was slim and absolutely gorgeous. Just looking at her made me wrap my coat around my torso to hide myself. Like anyone would notice me. It's like my mother always said, I blend in with the background. Nothing special to look at. I looked at the two men again. One was taller than the other with longer hair and the other had shadows flying around him. It was the taller one that I heard laughing. He was absolutely gorgeous. The kind of man you would read about in the books, the handsome, strong and kind man sweeping the herion of her feet. A spark starting burning in my chest. I had always dreamed of finding my handsome, strong and king man that would sweep me of my feet, but than again I wasn't anything remarkable. The spark in my chest died.

"Can I help you miss?" a soft female voice asked me. I turned forward again. In the time that I had been staring the line in front of me had gone.

"Sorry, yes, uhm... I'm looking for registration records dating back at least three thousand years ago" I said to her. Her eyes widened a little bit.

"I'm not sure if the records we keep here date that far back, but you could try in section four." Not feeling very hopeful I thanked the woman and made my way to section four. Section four was all the way at the back of the library in a dark corner. Clearly no one visited this part. The dusk caking the shelves was evidence of that. I took my coat off, throwing it on a dust covered chair along with my bag and got to work.

Time flies when you are having fun, or so they say. I looked back at the clock every once in a while to mark my progress. It had been three hours since I started looking through the books and so far I had found one name to add to the family tree. It was an exciting discovery, because it proved my ancestors did come from these lands. I was standing on the third bottom shelf trying to get a book trom the the top when my foot slipped and I lost my balance. I was prepared to let myself fall like a whale as there was nothing I could hold on to to save myself, when I felt two warm hands catching me. I looked up to find the handsome winged man from earlier starring down at me.

"It's been a while since a female threw herself at my feet" he said with a large grin on his face. My face must be red like a tomato, because he grinned even wider as he helped me stand.

"I didn't throw myself at your feet" I replied. I hoped he didn't think I did that on purpose. The man was almost two heads taller than me so I had to crane my neck to look at his face. What I saw took my breath away. Tanned skin, deep brown eyes and a couple of faint scars marking his face and neck.

"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked. I shook my head, not trusting my voice. I looked at his wings. Huge black membranes that were folded neatly on his back so they wouldn't bump into things.

"You are human" he suddenly said. The man looked surprised almost like he'd never seen a human before.

"Yes I am. But I listen to the name Eloise."

"Nice to meet you Eloise. My name is Cassian." We shook hands. His so much bigger than mine. "Do you need help with something?" Cassian looked up at the shelve I was, trying, to reach for.

"I was just trying to get that volume down" I pointed to the last book that might hold some information. With a smile Cassian grabbed the book from the shelve and gave it to me.

"Thank you Cassian" I said and walked back to my table. I was so engrossed in the book that I hadn't noticed Cassian sitting in the chair across from me. He himself held a book in his hands one leg crossed over the knee. I smiled at the picture.

"Good book?"

Cassian looked up.

"Very good"

"Quite an impressive skill reading upside down". Cassian grinned and placed the book he was holding upside down on the table. "Can I help you with something Cassian?"

"I'm just waiting to see if you need help with shelving the book". I looked at the open book in front of me. It was a stretch that something would be in here anyway.

"This is not going to tell me something. So might as well put it back" I closed the book and gave it back to Cassian, who took it back to it's place. Meanwhile I got my jacket back on and put my bag across my shoulder. Somehow I dreaded having to leave this place and him.

"Thank you for your help" I told Cassian when he returned to the table. The red stones on the backs of his hands shone in the warm light making them look like rubies as he rubbed his hands together.

"Anytime". His brown eyes held this softness I had never seen before. I made me relax a bit, a very strange feeling so I shook my head a bit. I needed to stay focused.

"Good day Eloise" he said and walked away. Something in the back of my head told me I was going to see him again very soon.

Like for part 2!!

[queeniecook]

December 20

It's five days until Winterfest, Jillian Ambrose has just finished placing the last of her gifts for her parents under the tree when she hears a knock at the front door. She heads to the door, with Annabel Lee hot on her heels. The cat sneaks out around her feet and glances at their visitor before taking off down the front steps, seemingly after a bird.

"Hello..." Jillian greets, stunned by seeing James on her front porch. She glances around James to watch her cat trot off in the snow, which Annabel Lee doesn't normally do. 

"I brought you something." James tells her, skipping the formalities. He doesn't plan to stay long. 

"Oh?" Jillian asks, even more surprised. A small part of her is cautious. This is James after all and she eyes him, which causes the warlock across from her to almost burst into laughter.

"It's a book, not a poison apple." 

Jillian remembers her manners and invites James inside, even if she is a little suspicious. But the idea of getting a new book to read makes her feel giddy inside.

After removing his coat, he hands Jillian a copy of the book he mentioned at the cafe. It's a bit worn but he recently acquired a signed copy of the book, therefore he no longer needs the other copy and he tells Jillian this when she thanks him while hugging the book before placing it carefully in front of the TV.

"You saved me a trip to Newcrest's bookstore." Jillian comments. She's not aware that James knows she works in a bookstore so he finds this comment odd but says nothing.

Instead he nods his head, it's not a big deal to him. "I no longer needed the book and you'll read it at least and take good care of the it."

Jillian nods her head, still smiling. She can't wait to read “The Werewolf Who Came in From the Cold”.

Silence descends and James breaks it by asking Jillian a question. "Do you still practice your medium skill?"

Jillian shakes her head. She hasn't really done anything with it in months. She kinda misses it. There just hasn't been a need for her to use it and with her being pregnant, she's more focused on carrying a healthy baby.

"You know, not everyone can be a medium. You have to have something in your bloodline somewhere...a tie to the magic world." James explains "Of course it's not as powerful or prestigious as being a spellcaster but it has its place."

"I didn't know that." Jillian says, looking away from James. Her mind is racing, it makes sense but was this why he wanted to talk to her? Or is he just making conversation. She's also wondering who in her family's ancestry could of had ties to the magic world. 

"Not many do." James tells her and from what he had seen of her, she has a strong talent in the medium field. "There's a chance your and Dakota's baby will be magically inclined, even with you being human. Especially since you also have a tie to the magical world somewhere."

Jillian raised her eyebrows, she hadn't really dwelled on the fact that her son could end up a warlock. She and Dakota had discussed it briefly but mostly they were just enjoying the anticipation of becoming parents.

"Enjoy the book." James switches the topic because he can tell he's given the pregnant woman beside him a lot to think about. He stands up and realizes as powerful as he is, he still has basic human needs at times. "Can I use your restroom?"

Jillian nods and gives him the directions to the downstairs bathroom. She gets up slowly and makes her way to the kitchen for a bottle of water. She stops in the dining room on her way whens she feels a small twinge in her stomach, she gasps and quickly feels someone grasping her arm.

"Is it the baby?" James asks, he actually sounds concerned, which surprises Jillian and probably James himself. 

"I..felt a small twinge? It kind of hurt but he might have just hit me wrong or something. He's been moving a lot lately." Jillian explains, though she's slightly worried herself. But she feels fine now and Slade is happily moving around in her womb in his big comfy water bed. 

James stares at her. "Are you sure?"

Jillian places her hand on her hip, confused by his concern. "We're fine, thank you." She tells him before glancing down at his hand that was still holding her arm. His grip doesn't hurt it's actually gentle, which seems out of character for James, who slowly drops her arm and nods.

"Maybe you should tell your doctor." James suggests, it's weird how months ago he was so mad that Dakota even got the girl pregnant. 

"Am I interrupting something?" Joey asks after coming home from a day of work at the Hospital. He sees James and has to force the smile to remain on his face. It's his first time seeing the warlock up close.

Jillian spins to face Joey and laughs and shakes her head. "No."

James just glowers at Joey and leaves without saying a single word.

Twenty minutes later after Joey has showered and changed, he's sitting in the Living Room with Jillian, who is reading a book. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"So...what did James want, exactly?" He asks, wondering where his cat is. Usually she greets him at the front door. 

"To give me a book." Jillian tells him like it's obvious. she raises the book she's reading as proof. 

Things grow quite as Joey thinks over his brief encounter with James. He hears Jillian turn a page in her book and his cat meowing loudly at the front door. He goes and lets her in, as a gnawing feeling forms in his stomach. He sits back down on the couch.

"There's something really familiar about James and I can't figure it out." 

[gisellelx]

Twilight Advent Calendar, Day 3

Dec. 3 - Pick one deceased Twilight character to draw or tell us more about. How would the Twilight universe be different if they were still alive?

"Or Does It Sag"

(~2,000 words)

December 3, 2023 Ashland, Wisconsin

Bella had been the one to break this particular dam.

It was a problem they all suffered from, if Edward were honest. The world changed so quickly around them, and it was easy to lose track of new possibilities on offer, especially when they were personal. An advancement in engine mechanics; sure, Rosalie would keep on top of that. A contemporary pianist rising to new fame; Edward would be aware. And with his daughter, these days, it was simple to be aware of other things he would once have not noticed: memes and new phrases, fashion trends too pedestrian for his sister to pick up on, Greta Gerwig and Christopher Nolan opening polar opposite films on the same weekend.

They all would forget, often, that the world changing might mean that certain things they had taken for granted needed reconsideration. That over time, the arc of history bent toward making the impossible possible.

His wife was sitting with their daughter on the the piano bench, Renesmee’s hands aglow from the white Christmas lights his mother had strung on the banister in the foyer. The tree would come later—Christmas Eve, their tradition since that very first serious fire hazard Carlisle had lit in the room of an inn on the shores of the Bay of Fundy, trying to coax, if not joy out of Edward, at least something a bit more like delight—but the house was already filled with other greenery, the air thick with the scents of white pine, ripened pinecone, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Across the room, Alice and Esme discussed the tree’s placement, how big it would need to be, as they hung ten stockings on the mantle in order by their entrance to the family: J, R, B, J, A, E, R, E, E, C. Although Edward knew Carlisle and Esme always hung them all anyway, this would be the first Christmas since the pandemic had begun that all ten of them would be filled. Jasper and Emmett had taken their Christmas cheer outside on Esme’s orders, and Rose had followed them, the living embodiment of the saying that behind every great man was a woman rolling her eyes.

And then there was Carlisle, whose newest schedule thrust him into two weeks of boredom at a time, curled up into one of the wingback chairs in his socks, staring at a page dense with text in the smallest font on his Kindle, but only pretending to read.

It had been earlier this year. Seventeen years of marriage, nearly nineteen of a relationship, and somehow Edward had never mentioned this crucial fact to his wife. They had been at the Toulouse house, discussing their next visit to the States, when Edward had mentioned something about his sire’s past; the knowns and the unknowns, and had let slip a crucial bit of missing information, a basic fact everyone had always taken for granted would forever be irretrievable.

Bella had just blinked at him a few times, and then, in the cutting way she had, offered, “Edward, haven’t any of you ever heard of Ancestry dot com?”

It had taken Bella all of twenty-four hours. A new account. A deep dive into church registers in London, 1600-1650. The parish records of one Saint James Aldgate, kept from 1625-1668 in a cramped handwriting that looked for all the world like Carlisle’s, which, when remarked upon, had only earned him a large eyeroll from his wife. “Edward. I know you think Carlisle sprang fully formed from the head of Zeus”—this time it was his turn to roll his eyes—“but you do realize that at some point someone had to teach him to write?”

And so they had pored over the records of births and marriages, baptisms and deaths, until they found her. Married, just barely twenty-two. Dead, just shy of twenty-four. One child, baptized the day she died. And the name, lost to the centuries until now.

They had presented this information for Father’s Day. Printouts of the pages; the dates, the eerily matching handwriting. Carlisle had swallowed deeply, thanked them, and shortly thereafter, left the room.

He hadn’t spoken of it. Edward hadn’t been sure if it had been an offense.

The composition under his daughter’s nimble fingers was over forty years old now, otherwise sounding like any other contemporary piano piece except that something about it sounded wintery, a musical affectation of the rapid whooshing of the Wisconsin wind against windows Esme had insisted upon keeping single pane. And as Edward listened, he let his mind drift along with his family's. It will need to be shorter. Esme, contemplating the tree. An expensive pair of earrings, no a necklace, no earrings, and…goddamnit, Emmett as Jasper tried valiantly to hide his holiday thoughts from his wife.

Pride, in equal measures, Jacob and Bella, listening to Renesmee at the keyboard.

And then…a little girl. Well, no, Edward realized at once. Not a girl, a child. Blond hair hanging in ringlets down to thin shoulders, a hat in the child’s—his—hand. The hat, falling to the ground from an open fist, as the dress swung around the child’s ankles, the hair flying in the wind as the child—the boy—giggled, racing into a woman’s round, pregnant belly.

“Carlisle,” the woman scolded gently. “You’ll wake your sister. Quiet, child.” A glance across a room, firelight dancing from the hearth, where a cradle sat on the floor, a warm glow across the cheeks of a plump toddler. Then the warm laughter again, a hand caressing the swell that was to be the third child. A boy, Edward knew somehow, through that strange alchemy that was his own mind and the mind he knew almost every bit as intimately. Then the boy, scooped up, held tightly to the ample bosom even as he giggled and squirmed. The imagined scent—roses, fresh air, sweat, soot.

As quickly as it came, the whole scene vaporized, replaced with live piano music, the scent of resin, Esme’s gentle laughter, the glow of LED twinkle lights. Edward looked up, catching eyes from across the room. A muttered excuse, and the sound of denim on upholstery as his sire excused himself, nonchalantly, as though he’d forgotten something.

But when he hadn’t returned ten minutes later, Edward also made soft noises about needing to find something, pressed his lips to the crown of his daughter’s head, and said, “Keep it up, Sweet.” His wife, ever perceptive, looked up from the bench.

Carlisle? she mouthed, and Edward nodded.

The house wasn’t large. The two of them had chosen it for themselves a hundred years ago, only later to share it with the woman Carlisle had, in all his impulsivity and to Edward’s initial dismay, saved from her own attempt at death. Following a scent—especially this most familiar one—was easy, and a moment later, Edward found himself in the study. His father’s chair was turned toward the wall, staring at a bookcase full of all manner of tomes organized in some system which after a century, still remained impenetrable even to Edward.

He didn’t say anything; it wasn’t as though he could sneak up. They both said nothing, the only sound in the stillness of the room their inhalations and exhalations.

“A sister?” Edward said finally. The head turned, and two pairs of golden eyes met.

“And a brother,” Edward added, and Carlisle shrugged.

It was the 1640s. Six would have been common.

“That’s not at all what I was commenting on, and you know it.”

Carlisle gulped. Edward came closer, perching himself on the perpetually messy desk.

“I wasn’t even sure you appreciated the gift,” he said quietly. “You’ve said so little about it.”

The blond head shook furiously. “I’m sorry. I’m grateful. It’s just—”

A flurry of images. The boy, giggling again. Older, hair shorter, wearing breeches this time. The sister, just as towheaded, her long ringlets dancing behind her as her brother pulled her through a small churchyard, scattering the handful of hens which lived there. The woman, a stern and wry look on her face, bouncing a toddler in her arms. Then blankness, again, the cutting off that Edward knew, like the slamming of a steel door, as Carlisle closed off his thinking to protect Edward from things he did not wish Edward to be privy to. Then came the sensations: the twist in the pit of the stomach, the raw, searing grief as fresh as it ever had been.

When this quiet had continued for several minutes, Edward spoke up. “You would’ve died, you know.”

A nod.

“And none of us would be here.”

Rosalie’s face swam suddenly in Carlisle’s mind. Not necessarily a bad thing.

Edward raised his eyebrows. “You’d trade us? Esme?” A pause. "Me?”

His father bit his lip, an uncannily human fidget that had once been put into his repertoire on purpose, but had now become so ingrained it was just part of him. The image shifted again: a series of flashes, rapid, one after another. The boy, school-aged, holding bravely still while the woman bandaged a knee. A teen, lifting a playful toddler out of the sacristy of the church—the sacristy remembered, the toddler imagined. A fourth child, Edward realized. The towheaded boy grown tall, his face the face of the young man Edward was used to. Clutching hands with a woman in white, anxiety and adrenaline and joy as he stood before an altar, the woman beaming at him from the first pew. And finally, the woman, older, her hair graying, as the young man placed a squashed-face infant into her arms.

Edward knew this part now, understood that Carlisle was so deeply content that he lacked the ability to imagine a family other than the one he had. That his dreams had a way of mixing the present with the past with the imagined, as though all of it were true. That if Edward had been able to lift the imaginary bride's veil, he would've seen the woman whose voice he could still hear floating down the hallway. That the infant being handed over in the memory now was the only infant Carlisle had ever imagined having: even though he had met Edward at age 17, he had a firm idea of what he would’ve looked like at six pounds. No hair—redheads were usually born bald—a grip surprisingly firm for a one-day-old infant. He saw the way the imaginary Carlisle beamed as he handed the bundle over to the woman. The way her eyes halfway closed in delight. Edward felt in the memory the way the baby felt in the hands, and recognized the way Carlisle’s mind was mixing this imagined baby and his imagined weight with a concrete memory from September, seventeen years before: Edward’s daughter; Carlisle’s palms.

I wish she could meet you.

Swinging his legs off the desk, Edward let out a bark of a laugh.

"Carlisle, you’re the one who believes in heaven. You really think she hasn’t?”

The image which surfaced this time was so similar, it was hard to tell if it was Edward’s alone or Carlisle’s, or both. The woman, fully gray haired now, her face wrinkled and her hands beginning to show liver spots. Sitting in their living room, laughing and giving tree advice to Esme, listening attentively to Renesmee, joking about Edward and Carlisle with Bella.

“Come on, Carlisle. If she’s anywhere, she’s here.” He hopped off the desk. “And you hiding in your office is probably not what she’d want.”

The nod came slowly. I suppose you’re right. He ran a hand through his hair and attempted a smile. Standing, he placed a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “I am glad you’re here. All of you. Even though the house is way too crowded.”

He chuckled. “We’ll leave before New Year’s.”

“Is that a promise?”

Edward punched Carlisle in the bicep, but they both laughed. Carlisle gestured to the door.

Come. Let’s see what your mother has figured out about the tree.

Edward nodded, and followed Carlisle’s steps. But at the door, his sire stopped, gazing back toward the desk where Edward still stood. The young boy resurfaced, lying against the woman, the girl, still asleep, the unborn infant a flutter under his brother's rib. Slowly, the boy's eyelids, too, grew heavy.

Carlisle blinked, snapping his mind abruptly back to the study. The boy was replaced by books. Thank you for giving her back to me.

And Edward saw it. Obscured by two pieces of mail, but still on top of the pile, the scent of Carlisle’s fingers still fresh, as though he’d rifled through it as recently as this morning. The envelope that he’d prepared, lettered in Bella’s handwriting, given for Father’s Day. The name, lost to time, resurfaced with technology, and with it, memory, imagination, grief, and somehow, love. As he moved, he brushed aside the bank statements on top, leaving the whole envelope visible as he exited the room.

Sarah

it read.

Closing the study door, Edward turned out the light and headed back toward his family.

Masterpost/Prompts Montage Masterpost

[unusual-raccoon]

Because it’s Mother’s Day, I’m using this holiday as an excuse to gift you a prompt 🌚 So stay with me…but what about a modern switched at birth jaceluke au?

Jace always imagined he’d be a fantastic older brother, he read stories about the legendary sibling relationships in his family’s history, but somehow he’s never clicked with his younger brother Vaegon. He thought it so strange considering Jace’s first memory ever was holding his brother in his arms and thinking everything right with the world. But it would seem their relationship would not blossom further than that moment. At first he thought the problem was with him but Joffrey’s birth erased those insecurities. It was cruel to think the fault of a nonexistent relationship rested solely with Vaegon, but Jace accepted that. And besides, it seemed that Vaegon preferred it that way, never having an interest in their younger brothers or Daemon’s daughters. But it would seem that everything would change when his younger brother was assigned a school project pertaining to DNA history.

In another part of the world, Luke always felt that something was missing from his life. His family was nice, but they were just that. He always burned too brightly for them, felt too deeply. Luke was like a different species next to their normality. He was haunted by the feeling that the space beside him should be occupied. Again, everything would change when hospital staff and lawyers started calling the house.

If you are up to it, maybe write the first JaceLuke interaction when Luke meets the fam?? Or maybe some sexxy angst once they actually get to know each other? Also, In this au Rhaenyra took one look at the switched baby and decided Lucerys was too pretty, so I chose to use the name of the lamest Targ in history (other than Aemond oc). Luke lucked out namewise in this one, but once the truth comes out he can’t help but start to use Lucerys. This au is so tasty because can you imagine both of them not trying to go feral and scare the other off? Jace not knowing how Luke will react to the history of their family while Luke doesn’t know the family secret and feels like a freak because his attraction? Also bc I can’t help myself: Corlys never made Vaegon heir cuz he’s a total loser; besides he’s been too busy to choose one ever since he’s been teaching a certain new intern the ropes. Even if you can’t write anything for this, you’re a gem 🌚

My darling 🌚 anon, you have no clue how with you I am. I’m so sorry for not being able to address all of your amazing asks with the consideration they deserve, my masters thesis is kicking my ass right now.

A treat for you, and for me (ficlet under the cut):

It had started with an assignment, a history project. It had seemed an innocent enough task. Typing the name Targaryen into one any run of the mill search engine would lead to results in the millions, chock full of tabloid articles and nonsense all bound up in the family name. If Vaegon really wanted to pull out the stops, he’d submit a sample to one of those ancestry sites, BOOM, goldmine.

Of course, Vaegon hadn’t seemed particularly thrilled by the prospect. Admittedly, Jace was a little more excited by the prospect of seeing their family’s historical tree span back generations.

So, when his brother waved the notion aside, claiming he’d just ask their mother for anything important enough to warrant including in his report, as if the whole of Targaryen history wasn’t worth it. Jace took matters into his own hands.

It had changed with results…and a little fork in their family tree. A pruned branch, as it were. In the place where Vaegon belonged, beside Jace, was something else. Someone else.

Name: Luke R.

Suggested relationship: full siblings

Known Relationship: Brother

Ancestral Surnames: Targaryen, Velaryon (Freehold, Valyria)

And there it was…his missing piece.

Jace stared at the website’s message function, at it’s washed out green interface. This was insane.

His cursor blinked in the empty text box. Mocking.

There was no photo attached to the profile. It could be a fluke. It could be nothing.

Jace pressed his thumb to the name on his phone screen, watched as his brother’s name was automatically highlighted. Copied it, and pasted it into Google. He scrolled mindlessly, possessed for what felt like hours.

Stumbled on a dating profile on a hookup app that Bells had downloaded for him. His mouth was dry.

The profile wasn’t under the name Luke, but Lucy.

He tapped on a profile picture, saw delicate features, dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin. He’d seen enough photos of his mom when she was younger to know the young man in the phots was her carbon copy.

Fuck.

His thumb slipped without meaning to. He liked the profile. Jace hissed, flooded with horror, mortification, panic-

It’s a Match!

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Luke, or Lucy, rather messaged first.

L: Heyy

Jace stared at the message and felt longing pull in his gut, worse than anything he’d ever known.

His reply is quick, hungry for more. His brain wired on a feedback loop at the chime of a notification.

J: Hi

The reply is quick.

L: chatty huh

J: sorry, lol. Wasn’t expecting to match w you.

L: really? Why’s that

J: you’re hot

L: LOL that’s pretty forward. And unless ur using someone else’s photo in ur profile pic, so are you.

His cock twitched.

J: just stating facts. And Thx lol.

J: are the tats in your gallery yours?

L: yea. r the abs in your gallery yours?

J: yeah.

L: 🥵

J: you’re funny.

L: and ur strangely humble for a guy that’s as good looking as ur pictures make you seem.

J: that a bad thing?

L: no, just trying to figure out where you came from lol

J: same place as you probably

L: I doubt it, lol.

J: I could be

L: ??

J: in the same place as you

J : if you wanted that

Jace wanted that, he wanted this his entire life.

L: oh yea? What would we do in the same place together?

J: whatever you want, Lucy

L: what if I wanted to do boring stuff? Like talk about history or sumthing?

J: joke’s on you, I love history. Kinda into the idea of you talking about history.

L: yea?

J: yeah

L: Hot and ur into history, def made in a lab.

J: LOL. Maybe I was made for you?

Maybe we were made for each other, he thinks. He thinks back to the results of his test - full siblings. Jace had always felt like oil and water with Vaegon, like they’d been cut from a different cloth.

Lucy had gone silent for a few minutes. Jace felt panic dig it’s roots into him. Desperate for a scrap of attention, affection, anything.

The chime of the next message hits like a narcotic.

L: I can multitask btw. We could talk about History AND do other stuff.

Jace’s hands are shaking as he replies.

J: anything in particular?

L: yea, in about six diff positions.

Jace ducked his head with a smile, cheeks throbbing with a blush.

J: is that so? Well, please educate me.

A stock photo of two men at a cafe rolled in, coffee cups that looked suspiciously empty situated before each of them. Jace couldn’t quite hide his smitten giggle.

L: it’s not the Kama sutra but I think we could pull it off

J: I might need to stretch first, but yeah, I’m down.

L: 🥰

J: lick a spot and we can try it for ourselves

J: *pick

L: didn’t mind the 1st one, LOL

L: but, yea, I’d like that.

He masturbates like a madman that night, frantic to the sight of tattooed, lily-white thighs in Lucy’s gallery. Imagines those pretty legs locked around his waist.

His guilt the following day isn’t enough to quash the quick flush of excitement that surges to his fingers (and cock) at the unique chime of a message on the app.

L: morning 😊

J: Good morning

L: it’s definitely better now

J: ☺️

J: rough night?

L: I had a dream about u…

J: I think I like where this is going

L: it was pretty morbid actually 😓. There was a fire, I don’t remember much, but I remember that. And u were there.

L: not like in the house btw. U were just there, next to me.

Jace sucked in a sharp breath. Harrenhal…Harwin’s lake house had burned down when they were young. Blood frothed hot in his veins.

L: … i’m sorry that was like the most unsexy dream to have abt a hot guy 😩.

L: omg wait I didn’t mean to make a pun 😨

L: …Jace?

J: do I have to burn something to be next to you now?

L: OMG, no!

L: I mean, did you still wanna be next to me after I had some weird ass dream with u in it?

J: YES

L: I’m free this weekend. Saturday. There’s a coffee shop near by, I’ve never been to it. No burning required.

J: it’ll be a first time for both of us then.

L: 🫣

L: it’s insane how bad I wanna kiss you

J: 😚😚

Fifteen minutes later, he’s sent an address.

They exchange flirty messages throughout the week leading up to the day they’re supposed to meet.

He gets to the coffee shop early. It’s cozy, warm, the air is fragrant. There’s a gentle buzz of conversation and hiss of coffee machines and milk frothers.

His phone pings and he nearly spills piping hot decaf all over his hand.

L: are u here yet?

J: yeah

L: lift up ur shirt so I know it’s u

J: lol! Sitting by the bookshelf

His heart stops when he sees him round the corner, like something out of a dream. Lily-white legs in microscopic cut-off shorts. Delicate fingers with chipped polish wrapped around a phone.

His eyes are dark, darker in person. Brown with a touch of amethyst. His eyes are Jace’s eyes. His heart is pounding fast.

“Lucy?” Jace calls, voice shaking. A timid smile parts on pink lips as he draws nearer. He’s stood before the intimate little corner booth Jace had picked out.

He’s tiny.

“Luke,” he corrects, “Lucy is…an online thing. Most people call me Luke.”

“Luke,” Jace repeats, and there it was. Easier than breathing. His missing piece.

[karsussfolly]

i have to show you all.......... my partner is running a game for my 2 besties and me using the new 2024 rules and i decided to make a chthonic tiefling warlock. she was gonna be a celestial patron warlock with the scribe background but i couldn't come up with a solid idea and then i rolled a d100 for the trinket and ended up with "a diary with 7 pages missing" and it opened my third eye and the planets all aligned and this is what i ended up with.

cthonic tiefling with night hag ancestry. it's her grandma btw she's not even that far back in the family tree it's very funny. anyway she's sort of inherited the gift of very good memory from her meemaw and is a huge nerd for magic, studies all kinds of arcane and occult bullshit, keeps an extremely detailed basically scientific logbook of all of her studies and day to day activities.

read/studied something she shouldn't have though and ended up trapped in a nightmare that would have killed her irl. made a last ditch effort pact with dendar, the night serpent (eater of nightmares and fears, wants to bring the apocalypse, you know!) in order to save her skin, in exchange for pledging her service to dendar.

when she woke up she had no recollection of the events that led to the nightmare or the nightmare itself, only a memory of the pact, and the pages of her log detailing the related research were missing.

uh oh!!!!

she might genuinely be my fav d&d character i've made so far. augh..... i immediately ran to make her in bg3.

[babyrdie]

Could you talk about Penelope family? I tried searching but it seems very confusing

This is a kind of interesting ask for the simple fact that it’s unexpected. But hey, here I am! First of all, I'd like to make a few things clear:

I'm not a classicist, it's just a hobby. If there's something wrong, you can say it and I'll fix it. If you have something to add, feel free to comment too! Penelope has A LOT of genealogy versions and some of them aren't even translated, so I REALLY may have missed something.

I’m considering Greek mythology sources, and I’m not considering Roman mythology. Not because I think Roman mythology is a farce, but simply because I consider the two separately and I don't know much about Roman mythology.

I don't usually write this because I feel like it's obvious, but when it comes to Penelope's family tree I feel like it's necessary: a version of the myth doesn't become invalid or false because you don't like it or because it doesn't match another source. Mythology is not a series of books where one book NEEDS to follow what the previous one said, it’s something much more organic than that. Yes, there were more "popular"/"traditional" versions, but that doesn't make the unusual ones invalid. So I'll consider all possible versions here, no matter if I like it or if the general public likes it. In other words, "ah, but you like this version…" it doesn't matter if I like it, what matters here is that it's a version.

PARENTS AND GRANDPARENTS

Father: Icarius

King Icarius is, fortunately, a constant in Penelope's myths. However, Icarius' ancestry varies. There are two possible family trees.

Perieres and Gorgophone:

Perieres took possession of Messene and married Gorgophone, daughter of Perseus, by whom he had sons, to wit, Aphareus and Leucippus, and Tyndareus, and also Icarius. But many say that Perieres was not the son of Aeolus but of Cynortas, son of Amyclas; so we shall narrate the history of the descendants of Perieres in dealing with the family of Atlas

Library, 1.9.5. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

[...] Perieres, with whom Gorgophone the daughter of Perseus, according to Stesichorus, had Tyndareus, Icarius, Aphareus and Leucippus. [...]

Ad Lycophronem, 511bs. 

Oebalus and Batia:

[...] But some say that Aphareus and Leucippus were sons of Perieres, the son of Aeolus, and that Cynortes begat Perieres, and that Perieres begat Oebalus, and that Oebalus begat Tyndareus, Hippocoon, and Icarius by a Naiad nymph Batia.

Library, 3.10.4. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

Gorgophone:

Pausanias offers a version in which Gorgophone married both Perieres and Oebalus.

In Argos, by the side of this monument of the Gorgon, is the grave of Gorgophone (Gorgon-kilIer), the daughter of Perseus. As soon as you hear the name you can understand the reason why it was given her. On the death of her husband, Perieres, the son of Aeolus, whom she married when a virgin, she married Oebalus, being the first woman, they say, to marry a second time; for before this wives were wont, on the death of their husbands, to live as widows.

Description of Greece, 2.21.7. Translation by W.H.S. Jones.

It also describes that Tyndareus is the son of Oebalus and Gorgophone, although it doesn’t specify Icarius.

Amyclas, too, son of Lacedaemon, wished to leave some memorial behind him, and built a town in Laconia. Hyacinthus, the youngest and most beautiful of his sons, died before his father, and his tomb is in Amyclae below the image of Apollo. On the death of Amyclas the empire came to Aigalus, the eldest of his sons, and afterwards, when Aigalus died, to Cynortas. Cynortas had a son Oebalus. He took a wife from Argos, Gorgophone the daughter of Perseus, and begat a son Tyndareus, with whom Hippocoon disputed about the kingship, claiming the throne on the ground of being the eldest. With the end of Icarius and his partisans he had surpassed Tyndareus in power, and forced him to retire in fear; the Lacedaemonians say that he went to Pellana, but a Messenian legend about him is that he fled to Aphareus in Messenia, Aphareus being the son of Perieres and the brother of Tyndareus on his mother's side. The story goes on to say that he settled at Thalamae in Messenia, and that his children were born to him when he was living there.

Description of Greece, 3.1. Translation by W.H.S. Jones.

Personally, I got the impression that Gorgophone was perhaps the most popular version as Icarius’ mother. Regardless, any of these versions are valid. Anyway, it’s because of Icarius that Penelope is cousins ​​with Clytemnestra, Helena and Dioscuri.

Mother: Periboea, Asterodia, Polycaste or Dorodoche

On Tumblr, the consensus is to consider Periboea as Penelope's mother (probably because she’s a Naiad), but Penelope doesn’t have a well-established (that is, constant) mother. Through surviving sources, we know of at least four possible mothers for Penelope. 

One of these versions is that Penelope's mother was Periboea, a Naiad (don’t confuse this with the Oceanid Periboea. Not the same character, despite the names and the fact that they’re both nymphs). The interesting part is that Pseudo-Apollodorus says that Periboea had 5 sons and 1 daughter, which means that she isn’t the mother of the Iphthime we see in The Odyssey.

Icarius and Periboea, a Naiad nymph, had five sons, Thoas, Damasippus, Imeusimus, Aletes, Perileos, and a daughter Penelope, whom Ulysses married.

Library, 3.10.6. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

Another possible mother of Penelope is Polycaste, daughter of Lygaeus. Again, there is no mention of Penelope having a sister, although brothers are mentioned.

[...] Tyndareus, however, went back home, having married Leda, the daughter of Thestius, whereas Icarius stayed on, keeping a portion of Acarnania, and by Polycaste, the daughter of Lygaeus, begot both Penelope and her brothers [...]

Geography, 10.2.24. Translation by H. L. Jones.

In other version, Penelope's mother is Asterodia, daughter of Eurypylus. She’s mentioned in a scholia on The Odyssey as mother of Penelope, Iphthime and other children not mentioned by Homer, which I have only found in Greek (see here in 797). The credits for this version are given to Pherecydes. Still using this scholia as a reference, another wife attributed to Icarius is Dorodoche, daughter of Ortilochus (see here in 16).

None of them are mentioned more than the others in the sources, so it’s difficult to know which of them was the most popular version, although Asterodia particularly makes the most sense in my opinion.

SIBLINGS

Sister: Iphthime (Asterodia as mother) and Medes/Hypsipyle/Laodamea (Asterodia as mother)

You're probably already familiar with Iphthime because she already appears in The Odyssey. Athena uses her appearance when communicating with Penelope at one point, and we learn this about Iphthime:

Then the gray-eyed goddess Athene thought what to do next. She made an image, and likened it to Penelope's sister Iphthime, the daughter of great-hearted Ikarios, whose husband was Eumelos, and he lived in his home at Pherai.

The Odyssey, IV.795-798. Translation by Richmond Lattimore.

Years later, a The Odyssey schoalist said that Iphthime is the daughter of Icarius and Asterodia, just like Penelope. This scholia is available in Greek here (see 797), and in that same part it’s said that Penelope had another sister (also daughter of Asterodia), who was called Medes, Hypsipyle, or Laodamea (same character, differents names).

Brother: Thoas, Damasippus, Imeusimus, Aletes, Perileos (Periboea as mother) or unamed brothers/Alyzeus and Lucadius (Polycaste as mother) or Amasichus, Phalereus, Thoon, Pheremmelias and Perilaos (Asterodia as mother) 

In the Periboea is Penelope’s mother version, it’s said that Periboea and Icarius had Penelope as their daughter and Thoas, Damasippus, Imeusimus, Aletes, Perileos as their sons.

Icarius and Periboea, a Naiad nymph, had five sons, Thoas, Damasippus, Imeusimus, Aletes, Perileos, and a daughter Penelope, whom Ulysses married.

Library, 3.10.6. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

And that's it. They don't have much mythological relevance in surviving sources. The most we have is Pausanias saying that Perileos wasn’t very happy with Orestes after he found out that he killed Clytemnestra, Perileos' cousin on his father's side. (Pausanias, Description of Greece, 8.34.4). I didn't know if there is a named nephew/niece for Penelope by her brothers.

Strabo, in the version in which Penelope's mother is Polycaste, mentions that Penelope has brothers, but doesn’t name them. He doesn’t even say how many, by the way.

[...] Tyndareus, however, went back home, having married Leda, the daughter of Thestius, whereas Icarius stayed on, keeping a portion of Acarnania, and by Polycaste, the daughter of Lygaeus, begot both Penelope and her brothers [...]

Geography, 10.2.24. Translation by H. L. Jones.

A little before this, he had mentioned Alyzeus and Lucadius as Penelope's brothers, but he described them as sons of Icarius and didn’t mention Polycaste, so I'm not sure if they’re her sons. Furthermore, in the case of Polycaste Strabo wrote in a “they say…” vibe, which harkens back more to oral tradition, while Alyzeus and Lucadius he specifically attributed to a work called Alcmaeonis (we don’t know about Alcmaeonis). I imagine that if Polycaste, Alyzeus and Lucadius were the same version, he would have simply credited Alcmaeonis when he spoke of Polycaste as well. So in my opinion it's uncertain whether they are Polycaste's unnamed children, but, interpret it your way. I think it's possible Polycaste is the mother.

The author of the Alcmaeonis says that Icarius, the father of Penelope, had two sons, Alyzeus and Leucadius, and that these two reigned over Acarnania with their father; accordingly, Ephorus thinks that the cities were named after these. 

Geography, 10.2.9. Translation by H. L. Jones.

In the scholia I mentioned before, the schoalist says that Penelope and Iphthime's mother is Asterodia and also attributes to them the brothers Amasichus, Phalereus, Thoon, Pheremmelias and Perilaos in 797. Perilaos is just another spelling for Perileos, thus being a constant between the Periboea and Asterodia versions. In 275, Penelope’s brothers (with Asterodia as mother) are Polymelos and Damasiclus. I've seen sites claiming that Damasiclus is another name for Amasichus, although I don't know what the source for this is.

CHILDREN

Telemachus

Telemachus as Penelope and Odysseus's son is a constant, so I certainly don't need to provide sources. An interesting fact that you may already know and that may not change anything in your life is that the name Telemachus means something like “far from war” or “fighting from afar” — etymologically "fighting from afar," from tēle "from afar" (see tele-) + makhē "a battle, fight" (see -machy); see here. Regarding this, there are the possibilities:

It refers to Telemachus being far from the Trojan War (and still “fighting”)

It's about his father being away because of the war.

Telemachus is the firstborn of both Odysseus and Penelope, regardless of source.

Poliphortes/Ptoliporthus

Another son of Penelope and Odysseus is Polyphortes, born only after Odysseus returned from war. His name is a combination of πτόλις (city) + πέρθω (perish), meaning “destroyer of cities” (see here), probably a reference to Odysseus's pivotal role in the destruction of Troy. The contrast between his name and the name of Telemachus is ironic to say the least.

This son was mentioned in the Library in a version in which Odysseus marries Queen Callidice and reigns over Thesprotians for a time until she dies, Odysseus leaves the kingdom to the son he had with her (Polypoetes) and returns to Ithaca, where he finds his second son with Penelope. It’s possible that Pseudo-Apollodorus was talking about the lost epic Telegony, as the plot is similar.

And after sacrificing to Hades, and Persephone, and Tiresias, he journeyed on foot through Epirus, and came to the Thesprotians, and having offered sacrifice according to the directions of the soothsayer Tiresias, he propitiated Poseidon. But Callidice, who was then queen of the Thesprotians, urged him to stay and offered him the kingdom; and she had by him a son Polypoetes. And having married Callidice, he reigned over the Thesprotians, and defeated in battle the neighboring peoples who attacked him. But when Callidice died he handed over the kingdom to his son and repaired to Ithaca, and there he found Poliporthes, whom Penelope had borne to him.

Library, E.7.34-35. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

This son is also mentioned by Pausanias, but he attributes this version to a poem called Thesprotis. What poem is Thesprotis? Well, there theories, but unfortunately, none of them are really conclusive.

In addition to the roads mentioned there are two others, leading to Orchomenus. On one is what is called the stadium of Ladas, where Ladas practised his running, and by it a sanctuary of Artemis, and on the right of the road is a high mound of earth. It is said to be the grave of Penelope, but the account of her in the poem called Thesprotis is not in agreement with this saying. For in it the poet says that when Odysseus returned from Troy he had a son Ptoliporthes by Penelope. [...]

Description of Greece, 8.12.5-6. W.H.S. Jones

Italus

Son of Penelope with Telegonus, son of Circe and Odysseus, who depending on the version is Penelope's second husband. This character is used to explain the name of country Italy. Furthermore, this isn’t a cheating version, as Odysseus was already dead when Penelope married Telegonus. 

[...] from Penelope and Telegonus Italus was born, who called the country Italy from his own name.

Fabulae, 127. Translation by Mary Grant.

Although Penelope marrying Telegonus appears in other sources, this is the only one where I found Italus as their son. 

Pan

This one is a long story. Finally, Penelope's son with the god Hermes.

Pseudo-Apollodorus says that Penelope was seduced by one of the suitors, Odysseus finding out about this sent her back to Icarius and eventually Penelope gave birth to Pan at Matinea. When I saw that she was seduced by one of the suitors in this version, I thought it would be Amphinomus, that suitor who tried to prevent the other suitors from killing Telemachus and who Odysseus wished to spare, but Athena had him killed along with the others. He was the best-behaved of the suitors and was said to be the one that pleased Penelope most.

Now Amphinomos spoke forth and addressed them. He was the shining son of Nisos, son of the lord Aretiades, and led those suitors who had come over from the abundant grasslands and grainlands of Doulichion, and pleased Penelope more than the others in talk, for he had good sense and discretion.

The Odyssey, XVI.394-398. Translation by Richmond Lattimore.

But it wasn't him, it was Antinous! The most insufferable of suitors!

But some say that Penelope was seduced by Antinous and sent away by Ulysses to her father Icarius, and that when she came to Mantinea in Arcadia she bore Pan to Hermes

Library, E.7.38. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

Herodotus, when trying to establish a chronology for the births of the gods, talks about a version in which Pan is their youngest. He says this is because he was born to Penelope and is therefore post-Trojan War. He also claims this is the version believed by the Greeks.

[...] and Pan the son of Penelope (for according to the Greeks Penelope and Hermes were the parents of Pan) was about eight hundred years before me, and thus of a later date than the Trojan war.

Histories, 2.145. Translation by A. D. Godley.

Pausanias also writes a version in which Penelope was expelled by Odysseus, although he doesn’t mention her having children or that child being Pan. However, he says that it’s a Matinean version and that Penelope went to Matinea, the same place as Pseudo-Apollodorus said that Penelope and Hermes had Pan.

But the Mantinean story about Penelope says that Odysseus convicted her of bringing paramours to his home, and being cast out by him she went away at first to Lacedaemon, but afterwards she removed from Sparta to Mantineia, where she died.

Description of Greece, 8.12.6. Translation by W.H.S. Jones.

There is a possibility that this myth exists because it got mixed up with the myth in which Pan's mother is Penelope, a nymph from Arcadia, and not Penelope, queen of Ithaca.

In the Homeric Hymn to Pan, there is no name of the mother, but it’s said that she is “daughter of Dryopos” and therefore not Penelope daughter of Icarius.

[...] For there, though a god, he used to tend curly-fleeced sheep in the service of a mortal man, because there fell on him and waxed strong melting desire to wed the rich-tressed daughter of Dryops and there he brought about the merry marriage.

Hymn to Pan. Translation by Hugh G. Evelyn-White.

Nonnus, in the Dionysiaca, says the mother's name is Penelope, but she’s a nymph and therefore not the human Penelope. Also, there are two Pans instead of one.

[...] With these were two other Pans, the sons of Hermes, who divided his love between two Nymphs: for one he visited the bed of Sose, the highland prophetess, and begat a son inspired with the divine voice of prophecy, Agreus, well versed in the beast-slaying sport of the hunt; the other was Nomios, whom the pasturing sheep loved well, one practised in the shepherd’s pipe, for whom Hermes sought the bed of Penelope, the country Nymph. 

Dionysiaca, Book 14. Translation by W.H.D. Rouse.

In some sources, a Penelope is mentioned, but there are no specifics about which Penelope is referred to. In some versions, Pan's father is not Hermes.

Fabulae says that Pan's parents Hermes and an unspecified Penelope. But the mention of Pan being initially mortal made me think it's not a nymph he's talking about, since all the nymph + god children I know were born immortal and the mortal nymph children were the children of nymph + humans. But of course, I might have missed something.

MORTALS WHO WERE MADE IMMORTAL: [...] Pan, son of Mercury and Penelope [...]

Fabulae, 224. Translation by Mary Grant.

Despite the chances of Penelope of Ithaca being confused with another character and this giving rise to this version, over time the idea of Penelope as Pan's mother became its own version. Therefore, I consider it valid, as apparently the ancient Greeks also considered it a possibility (as seen by Herodotus' statement). However, this was most likely not the most popular version of the myth, since Penelope was often used as an example of an ideal chaste wife (e.g. Aristoteles, Economics; Plutarch, Conjugalia Pracepta; Athenaues, The Deipnosophists. Also notable in visual depictions of Penelope in which she has her legs crossed so protecting chastity).

GRANDCHILDREN AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW

Through Telemachus (Penelope's other sons don’t have children attested from what I saw), Penelope has some possible grandchildren (and, consequently, daughters-in-law), as follows:

Latinus

This name is also attributed to two half-brothers of Telemachus. One of them is the son of Odysseus and Circe (Hesiod, Theogony) and the other is son of Odysseus and Calypso (Pseudo-Apollodorus, Library, E.7.24). This Latinus here is none of those, he’s a son of Telemachus and Circe. This character is used to explain the name of the Latin language.

[...] By the advice of Minerva again, Telegonus married Penelope, and Telemachus married Circe. From Circe and Telemachus Latinus was born, who gave his name to the Latin language [...]

Fabulae, 127. Translation by Mary Grant.

Poliphortes/Ptoliporthus

This name is also attributed to a brother of Telemachus, son of Penelope and Odysseus. In this case, I’m referring to the version of the late source Dictys Cretensis which described Polyphortes as the son of Telemachus by the princess Nausicaa. Yes, the same person who wanted to marry Odysseus in The Odyssey.

Soon afterwards, in answer to Ulysses’ hopes and prayers, Nausicaa, the daughter of Alcinous, was married to Telemachus. This was also the time when our leader Idomeneus died in Crete; and, according to the right of succession, the kingdom passed to Meriones. Laertes, three years after his son had returned, ended his life. Nausicaa and Telemachus had a son, to whom Ulysses gave the name Ptoliporthus (Sacker of Cities).

Dictys Cretensis, 6.6. Translation by R.M. Frazer.

Persepolis/Perseptolis

This name is also attributed to...okay, relax! There are no other children of Odysseus that you need to worry about, this time Persepolis is just Telemachus' son with Polycaste. Polycaste, in this case, was a princess of Pylos, daughter of Nestor (she isn’t the same character assigned as Penelope's mother). She appears in The Odyssey when Telemachus visits Nestor and is the princess who bathes him.

Meanwhile lovely Polykaste, who was the youngest of the daughters of Nestor, son of Neleus, had bathed Telemachos. But when she had bathed him and anointed him sleekly with olive oil, she threw a splendid mantle and a tunic about him, and he came out from the bath looking like an immortal and came and sat down beside Nestor, shepherd of the people

The Odyssey, 464-469. Translation by Richmond Lattimore. 

Years later, a schoalist of Homer presented a version of the myth in which Telemachus and Polycaste had a son named Persepolis. He attributed the credits to Hesiod, and is currently considered part of the Catalogues of Women.

FRAGMENT 12 - TELEMACHUS Eustathius. Hom. 1796.39: "So well-girded Polycaste, the youngest daughter of Nestor, Neleus' son, was joined in love with Telemachus through golden Aphrodite and bare Persepolis."

No grandchildren 

In addition to Circe, Nausicaa, and Polycaste, Cassiopheia is also an attributed wife of Telemachus, but they didn’t give Penelope any grandchildren. This version is told in a scholia on Lycophron’s poem Alexandra, which shows the Trojan prophetess Cassandra prophesying. Ioannis Tzetzes, while trying to decipher Cassandra's enigmatic prophecies, offers a version of the myth in which Circe and Odysseus' daughter Cassiphone is the wife of Telemachus.

Telemachus married Cassiphone, the daughter of Circe. Telemachus kills Circe, not wanting to bear her commands, and he himself is killed by Cassiphone, his wife, avenging her mother. What he says is this: Odysseus will die seeing the sufferings of Circe being killed by Telemachus, and him by Cassiphone, his own daughter.

Ad Lycophronem, 808. 

I only found Cassiopheia in this source.

[peppermintschnapps]

am I being a jaded cynical no-fun-allowed bitch for dying internally when people are telling me about their ancestry .com results and family tree stuff. 100% I don't care if your great great aunt made scones for the queen or you're part "viking" or whatever you're fucking boringggg ☠️💀☠️💀☠️

I read once in a UK study that 1 in 6 people are raised with by a man in the household that is not truly their biological father - whether they are aware of it or not - like surely we can't trust family records to be 100% accurate anyway. & what if they mixed up the babies at the hospital on the day one of your ancestors was born? and ultimately does any of it actually matter...? genuinely I don't know why I should care about any of it 😴 let me know if I'm missing something important though

[songsofbloodandwater]

Gm! How’re you?

9 and 20?

Hello! I'm well, thank you, hope you're too! i'm sorry for the wait, took me a bit to be able to organize my thoughts and life got a little in the way of me writing them. But here they are:

9. What’s something you wish more people understood about the craft?

For the longest time, I wished more people would see how ancestral veneration (or at the very least, acknowledgement) is, in my opinion, essential to a well matured craft, and to a well matured person in general. In a way, my prayers were heard. Recently I've been seeing more people show interest in ancestral veneration and at least mention working with ancestors in their witching endeavours, but I think there's still an important aspect of ancestral work missing: unlearning and decolonizing. Acknowledging one's ancestry without actively working on healing any wounds it may come with (white guilt and how many run from their family's history and baggage, colonization, assimilation, all the internalized sexism, racism, etc, the list is endless) is honestly not only incomplete work but most times, actively harmful to others, as it perpetuates structures of genocide and cruelty.

We don't only inherit magic from our forebearers, we inherit our understanding and our ways, the good and the bad, and that makes a big part of the whole society we live in. It's our job to do our part to learn from Our Ancestors' errors and merits, better ourselves, and make the world better for those to come. That is as central to ancestral work and veneration, as a strong ancestral foundation is central to magic.

20. What’s something you’re currently interested in and/or learning about?

I've been working on deepening my understanding of our deep ancestors, to strengthen a relationship with them. I say our and not just my, because it's Ancestors who would've lived thousands of years ago and there's a good chance we share more than a few.

I've always worked with my ancestors very closely, but this is more like following the Ancestors of those Ancestors. Ancestors shared across the family tree and across societies, who've shaped much of what we know and do in the present in much of the modern world. I showed interest a while back, and after being consistent in my efforts and proving an honest heart, a certain someone answered back. I've been following their footsteps backwards, through the different eras and regions, letting the Ancestors' hands hold me and guide me on where I should make my next step like a blind man, while following the voice of an Entity or God I call The Father of Wilderness.

It's... interesting, to say the least. Not only because it puts our entire history as a species into perspective (which was the reason for my initial interest as an ecologist, how changes in our cultural and spiritual understandings over thousands of years have reflected in the respective changes in our behavior as a society, how we relate to other humans, but also in how we relate to nature and the ecosystem around us) but also because they have so much to teach about what truly makes us human. Regardless of all differences you can find between the lifestyle of someone in the modern day and someone who lived 20.000+ years ago, or even 200.000+ years ago, we're all human. It's the things that we can find in common across the ages, the things we can learn from Them about our own humanity, that fill my heart. Again, learning from Them across time and space, recognizing their errors and their merits.

I also have fun finding parallels between how the Father of Wilderness, Patron of this work, revealed himself to me, how he wishes to be honored, and with other people's deities or cults of similar figures. There's very specific details, differences, in our views and approaches, that are fascinating to see and keep my mind busy trying to untangle the why's of it all. I've been trying to put all my findings and thoughts into a written little something but it's long and it may take a while before I'm satisfied with it. If you're interested, eventually it'll see the light here as a blog post.

(You see a little bit of it hinted at here already, when I mentioned the value of an honest heart. It's not just words. In my experience, it's a must, a prerequisite to have the attention, guidance and favour of the Father of Wilderness.)

Thank you for asking! Getting all of that out of my brain and into somewhat not totally coherent words was a very good mental exercise.

[tepkunset]

What's the difference between "reconnecting" and pretendians?

There are so many reasons why there are Indigenous peoples who have fallen away from their cultural connections, and really all of them can be traced back to colonial pressures they or their family have faced. (Personally speaking, I fucking threw it away in my angsty teenage years and had to essentially start over once I hit 20 and realized my life was missing something crucial.) ‘Reconnecting’ certainly has been a term abused by pretendians, yes – but let’s not let it lose its true meaning for those who are legitimately working hard to recover themselves. And it is hard and emotional work.

The legitimacy is what separates it for me, in that you need to be able to have solid proof of your ancestry, and that ancestry can’t be so lost in the family tree that you need a map to showcase it. Like, I have spoken against blood quantum and will continue to do so – what I think matters more is where your family comes from, you know? Like, we can say with definitive proof that my paternal grandfather’s biological parents were from [REDACTED] as an example.

I also think community is important. Is that person accepted by their community?* And is that community an actually recognized Indigenous community, and not some fake tribe made up like the “Eastern Woodland Métis”? If not, huge pretendian red flags.

*Important note though: I have spoken to Afro-Indigenous peoples before who have shared that their community does not accept them out of anti-Black racism. In such cases, then that’s the community’s fault and loss. Anti-Black racism is a real problem in Native communities to this day, unfortunately.

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: Elf (2003)

Elf (2003)

Rated PG for some mild rude humor and language

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2023/12/review-elf-2003.html>

Score: 3 out of 5

Elf is the kind of Christmas movie that you'd think was made in 1983 or even 1963, not 2003. It's a straightforward throwback to the Rankin/Bass Christmas specials of the '60s and '70s, with a plot largely devoid of crude humor... starring Will Ferrell at a time when he and the rest of the "Frat Pack" of gleefully lowbrow comedy stars and writers were pushing boundaries with a new breed of decidedly grown-up sex comedies. Director Jon Favreau consciously toned down the original PG-13 script into something a lot more lighthearted and family-friendly once he got on board, at times to a fault (and to Ferrell's frustration on set), but it ultimately worked out in the end to produce a film that a lot of people of my generation regard as a comedy classic and one of their favorite unironic holiday movies (i.e. not something like Die Hard or Bad Santa, the latter of which came out the same year as this). As someone who missed the film when it first came out and only saw it recently, I don't quite have the same attachment to it, but I definitely see where the affection comes from. There's barely much of a plot, but what it has is ultimately enough, the film being largely the kind of "sketch movie" that's about dropping unusual characters into funny situations and seeing how they react. I had a very nice time watching it, thanks to both Ferrell's performance as the titular elf and an old-fashioned sense of humor that's not afraid of getting cornball and doesn't try to pretend it's anything other than what it is, and while it did feel kind of insubstantial, it's still a film I'd happily recommend around the holiday season.

Our protagonist Buddy is a human who, as an infant, accidentally snuck into Santa Claus' sack when Santa visited his orphanage on the night of Christmas Eve. Growing up at the North Pole, he's always known he was different from the other elves: he's much bigger, for one, and he aged into an adult far faster. One day, he finally learns the truth about his ancestry and realizes why all the other elves made fun of him, which marks the beginning of a journey to New York City to find the birth father who abandoned him, Walter Hobbs, now an executive at a children's book publisher and, by all appearances, a right jerk who values money over his family and even the quality of his company's books.

If you've ever seen a heartwarming holiday special, then you don't need me to tell you where this movie's going from there, and this movie knows it. It devotes fairly little time to its story, instead concerning itself with its jokes and its comic routines, most of which revolve around Buddy, played by Ferrell as essentially a young boy in the body of a grown man, interacting with the modern world and causing chaos wherever he goes. He's not completely helpless, shown to be a surprisingly gifted handyman thanks to his experience in Santa's workshop (where do you think all the toys under your tree as a kid came from? Your parents? China?), but he's otherwise a less shouty, more family-friendly take on the archetypal Ferrell manchild character, with the emphasis here placed on the "child" thanks to him having been raised in a candy-cane, primary-colored version of the North Pole straight out of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (complete with a cameo by Ray Harryhausen voicing a stop-motion polar bear). And honestly, Ferrell was perfect in the role. There's a reason this kind of character has been his type as a comic actor, and that's because he brings exactly the kind of energy that a movie like this needs. There's just something inherently funny about a grown man dressed as a Christmas elf, but Ferrell doesn't just rest on the premise here, he gives it his all and always makes me smile.

The cast here is large and sprawling, and some of them get more to grab onto than others. James Caan as Walter is the closest thing a movie this wholesome has to an antagonistic force, and while his arc of realizing that there's more to life than getting ahead in the cutthroat corporate world is predictable, he otherwise sells it admirably. The first act at the North Pole is filled with memorable presences like Ed Asner as a Santa straight out of an old Coca-Cola commercial and Bob Newhart as Buddy's adoptive elf father, as well as great set design that makes for a very sharp contrast to the rest of the film spent in the Big Apple. Peter Dinklage only has one scene as a full-of-himself children's author, but the moment he steps foot on screen, you can figure out immediately what the casting directors of Game of Thrones saw in him. Unfortunately, I thought that Zooey Deschanel got short shrift as the cynical department store clerk Jovie, feeling as though a lot of her character arc was left on the cutting room floor. She gets a lot of focus in a few particular scenes and sells them very well, especially when it comes to her singing voice, but she's otherwise absent for such long stretches that I was at times surprised when the film remembered that she existed. (It was amusing, however, seeing her play the grouch who doesn't believe in Christmas and has Ferrell's manic pixie dream guy inject some excitement into her life given how she'd later be typecast. Especially since she's blonde in this film, without what would become her signature bangs.)

This was a symptom of the film's biggest fault, the manner in which the plot jumps all over the place, from Buddy's relationship with his father Walter to his romance with Jovie to Walter's problems at work and home to a sudden third-act turn into Buddy having to literally save Christmas. It's very scattershot, and while I was often amused, I wouldn't say I was particularly hooked by the film's story, threadbare as it was. At times, I wonder if Ferrell might have had a point in wanting this to be a somewhat darker movie than what we ultimately got, one that spent more time with its characters and gave them room to breathe between all the jokes. The 2000s were a time when comedies weren't afraid to slow down, and when Pixar was in its golden age of animated family comedies that nevertheless threw a lot of kids my age for a loop. I think a version of this movie that's ten to fifteen minutes longer, mostly devoted to character beats and interactions, might have left more of an impact on me.

The Bottom Line

At the end of the day, though, Elf is still a very funny movie with Will Ferrell doing what he does best, one that I don't think would've endured as it has if it hadn't been as lightweight as it is. Overall, I had a very good time watching it, and whenever I have kids, I guarantee this one's gonna be in rotation every December.

[mjs-oc-corner]

fbawtft/riddle era original character sheet

(fankid — erbigail)

5/??

another fankid created in collaboration with @endlessly-cursed?? it’s more likely than you think. of course, another huge thank you to noe for helping me figure out nearly everything with dominique (even after she gave us the silent treatment for getting emmett’s profile done before hers lol)

Name: Dominique Elena di Napoli

Nicknames: Nikki, Minnie

Birthdate: June 1st, 1917

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

MBTI Type: ENFJ — the Protagonist

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Nationality: British with Italian ancestry

Physical Appearance

Hair: dark brown

Eyes: blue

Height: 5’5” / 1.67m

Weight: 120 lbs. / 54.43kg

Body Type: slim, lithe

Skin Tone: fair, slightly tanned during the summer months

Distinguishing marks (birthmarks, scars, etc.):

small, feint birthmark on her left shoulder

one small, feint scar on the side of her wrist from a brushing against a metal gate as a child

pierced ears

Background

Hometown:

Dominique would spend her early years at the di Napoli manor with her siblings, though they would end up leaving Italy and moving to England when she was only four.

Family

Mother

Abigail Jane di Napoli née Bennett — a woman who grew up in a loving family and wanted the same for her children, ensuring that they grew up in a loving, supportive environment knowing that they could rely on their family. though her and Ernest had agreed to have no more children, and she was surprised upon learning that she was pregnant with Dominique, she was still happy to have another child, as she did miss having a baby around (even if she couldn’t admit that to Ernest at first).

Father

Ernest Regulus Maurice di Napoli — a man from a rather broken home who would become a better man due to Abbi and their children, and would spend his life treasuring his family more than anything. along with Abbi, he would ensure that their children grew up in a loving home. while he was just as surprised as Abbi was to find out about the pregnancy, he was elated to have another baby.

Sisters

Dominique has two older sisters, Rory and Chrissy. she sees both of her sisters as confidants, and often asks them for advice when she needs it. Rory would be rather fond of Dominque, having helped their mother take care of the new baby. at first, Chrissy would be upset that she was no longer the baby, but she was okay with it once their father assured her that they would both be his babies no matter what. each of the sisters would be close to each other, with both Rory and Chrissy being protective over Dominique and helping guide her through life.

Brothers

Dominque also has two older brothers, Emmett and Theo. at first, Theo wasn’t too sure about a baby being around (as he was only eight years old when she was born), but eventually he would come to love having another younger sister. Emmett, however, would immediately take to Dominique from the moment she was born, and end up being the most protective over her, despite being ten years older.

Hogwarts

House: Gryffindor

Best classes: charms, transfiguration, muggle studies, history of magic

Worst Class: flying

Boggart: her older siblings, all as dark wizards trying to harm her

Riddikulus: each sibling turns into a small rag doll, each one with dopey smiles and ridiculous outfits

Patronus: white swan

Patronus Memory: the first christmas that she can recall; she’d just finished helping her family decorate the tree and a fresh snow had fallen, prompting her and her siblings to run outside to have a snowball fight

Mirror of Erised: as a child, she sees herself as an accomplished member of the Wizengamot. as an adult, she sees herself as the head of her department, with a family of her own

Amortentia (what she smells like): dark chocolate, tonka bean, caramel, a hint of vanilla. sometimes chanel n°5, a perfume gifted to her by Rory

Amortentia (what she smells): sandalwood, tobacco, leather, cinnamon, TBD

Career

Ages 11–18: Hogwarts student

Ages 18–22: Secretary/Desk clerk for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Ages 23–25: Secretary for the Wizengamot Administrative Services

Ages 26–29: Wizengamot Scribe

Ages 30–39: Interrogator for the Wizengamot Panel

Ages 40–65: Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Ages 65–??: Retiree

Personality & Attitude

Priorities: the mental and physical well-being of herself as well as her family and friends, her career

Strengths: fairness — bravery — loyalty — ambitious — creative — kind — empathetic — resilient

Weaknesses: headstrong — stubborn

Stressed: during the first few years of her career, when she began to grow frustrated with how she’d been treated by the higher-ups

Calm/Comforted: when she’s with her family or when she’s at her own home, catching up on her reading

Favorites

Color: red, gold, yellow, blue

Food: homemade ravioli

Drink: tea, with a sprinkle of sugar and a lemon wedge

Weather: cloudy, cooler temperatures or snowy

Hobbies: reading, music, studying, cooking and baking, journaling, painting

Fashion: Dominque’s style mainly consists of neutral and dark tones for her day-to-day wear, but she does have a few bolder colors in the red and orange color family that she occasionally wears. her primary focus is for functionality, as she is constantly busy and always moving.

Relationships

Significant Other/ Love Interest: TBD

Dominque is currently open for a relationship with others’ ocs, feel free to message me or reply to this to let me know if you’d like for your oc to be shipped with her!

Friends

TBD

Dominique is currently open for friendships with others’ ocs, feel free to message me or reply to this to let me know if you’d like for your oc to be friends with her!

Rivals

TBD

Trivia

Dominique learned to play the violin and piano when she was eight, and she’s very skilled in both

she wouldn’t admit it to any of her other siblings, but Emmett is her favorite (and everyone knows it)

as a member of the Wizengamot, Dominique is very unbiased during trials; and this causes supporters of dark witches and wizards in the panel to dislike her

her favorite sweet is chocolate

Dominique’s favorite season is winter

[silvermoon-scrolls]

Names of the Almighty Johnsons

Almost all of the given names in the Johnson family tree are of Scandinavian variety. Even if it’s only ‘Olaf’ that is a strictly Old Norse name; Johan, Mikkel, Anders and Axl are all Scandinavian variations of old Greek/Latin/Hebrew names that have been in use in Sweden/Denmark/Norway for hundreds of years, and they are all still common today.

So clearly the family has made an effort to keep some of their Norse ancestry culture even though they are in hiding.

You’ll notice one name missing, though. Tyrone? I’m not even sure I have heard of this name before I saw the show. Of Irish origin apparently, and definitely not common in Scandinavia.

Why was he given such a different name? Poor Ty. Gloomy Hod and this, he never was meant to fit in within the Norse Gods club, was he?

What’s fun about Mikkel is that it is a name strongly associated with the fox. Specifically the sly and unreliable nature of the fox. I think it's a fitting name for Mike, but it would also have been an excellent name for Colin/Loki. Or maybe that would have been a little too on the nose for him?

I also think it's fun that even though it has nothing to do with the etymological origin of the name, Axel does also mean axis/axle in Swedish. Meaning, something revolves around him. Like the world, or the fate of it.

Also, Anders (via its root Andreas)  means manly, masculine.

[jarlshall]

Aderyn of the Fells

A druid from a small village nestled in the Fells along the borderlands with Hydris, Aderyn lost her parents to wolves when she was a baby. All that she has to remember them by is her mixed ancestry - half Kwaychan elf, and half Fellish. She's not sure who was which, but she doesn't let it get her down.

After all, she has still family that love her. Like her girlfriend Lona and Aderyn's surrogate grandpa - a great tree spirit named Hynafgwr Onnen, the same who rescued her as a baby.

Like all Fellish, she wears tattoos that imitate the markings of the Green spirits that flourish in the Fells. But its her unmatched skill with potion and bow that make her stand out from her fellow villagers.

It seems she has everything she would want in her quiet village.

So why does it feel like something is missing?

(picture by the amazing @lunian)

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

“how does it feel?”

═══ UNPROMPTED INTERACTIONS ═══ LEAGUE VERSE

"...To die? What an odd question, particularly from someone like you, if you don't mind me saying, Miss Irelia. You have killed countless humans, did you not take a moment to look upon their eyes as they went?" His stare was cold, lifeless as his gaze reflected the moon and her sharpened gaze - but his finger was quick to lift, "I know what you say, that Noxians aren't people, surely there's no way humans could do such a thing to eachother… But they did, they do, where they come from or their ancestry doesn't matter… Their blood is red, like yours, like mine, and almost everything in this world is meant to die. But I imagine you're asking my own experience."

His expression lifts into a small smile, keeping his gaze upon her as he cupped his chin, staring through her very being - at her hatred, at her hurt. "I suppose it depends on the person and how they go, but for me… My eyes were beaten until the green of Zaun turned into blood, the air was stripped from my lungs as I choked on the muddied puddle under me - all while someone much stronger than I held me down. I…I remember someone screaming, someone - a woman - begging for me to not go yet. I don't remember much about her, but she had yellow eyes and soft hands. I think we may have been friends at some point." The Ionian air tasted sweet as he sucked in to fill his lungs, a breath he did not need to take but one that was comforting regardless.

"I felt my body slip away and just like that, there was no more struggle, no more pain, nothing. I did not exist anymore, whatever I was had faded and I was never supposed to return. Yet here I stand." The mage's expression was hollow and blank of every emotion he had shown up to that point, "I suppose many die in fear, unable to rest even as they rot within the earth or are grinded up into meat for the Noxian empire. I've no doubt their grieving has bled into the soil too, how much blood do you think has absorbed into these very trees around us? How many Noxians do you think are part of this place now? Haha - and don't say Ionia wouldn't take them, nature is but a beast, a motherly beast - but it still has teeth and claws and will eat anything given to it. The corpses you've piled, that they've piled...well, its a bountiful feast."

Less so a laugh and moreso a harsh snort left him, "We all die the same, though, we're all human at the end of it. To say someone isn’t is to say we can do what we want to them… I am sure that the Grand General said the same thing to his troops when they were sent here. Maybe to make them feel better, but it doesn't change what they've done, what you've done, what many of us have done. Did you want to forget that they are people? I have to wonder if maybe you're just lying though, to know your family was torn apart by humans just like you and I - it's much more palatable to imagine they were animals lacking of any good qualities, that they could never cry in the same way as you do. Is it a lie you tell to everyone around you or perhaps a lie you tell to yourself? I cannot blame you, we are terrifying creatures after all, the only things on this planet that can justify stripping the life of another and then act as if our hands aren't wet with their blood."

It was odd, the way he spoke. There was no malice, no stinging venom like that of a snake - his words were flat and calm like a lake…a gentle acceptance of what change and death truly was. Nature's delight, he almost felt silly for trying to fight against it so often while alive, to try and bring his siblings back...What a foolish endeavor.

"…Why though? Are you frightened of death? Of the abyss? As I said, almost everything is meant to die - and being alive isn't so special either. Millions before you and after you will be born and die too, it isn't as though you'll feel anything after." A pause, "Death isn't something you feel, its just…the end; there is no more pain and suffering. No more pleasure but also no more desire for pleasure. You won't have to suffer anymore and won't be deprived of any deliciousness that you otherwise could've experienced. Existence is a burden, a burden that we are biologically programmed to embrace - there is really nothing to it at all. At the end, everyone's end, you'll find that what you've done will eventually wither to nothing too; when the great grandchildren of the people you've helped speak your name for the last time. "Noxian or Ionian, man or woman or child - you'll return to nothingness just as you were before, and even if Noxus tears Ionia to pieces - or Ionia tears Noxus to pieces… that will become nothing too." He smiled,

"You've been nothing far more than you've been something, and we are never meant to come back."