#His magic focus is enchantments + poisons :)

[tsuutarr]

You almost scream when something falls into your basket, certain that you'll have to deal with a large bug. 

You soon calm down when you realize that your sudden visitor isn't a bug, but a tired garden fairy. He leans against your basket, looking worn out, causing sympathy to well up inside you. You push some of the berries inside your basket his way, causing his eyes to brighten.

After that, you've had a little fairy stalker following you around everywhere. But you don't mind – he's cute and harmless, after all. He fits into all your dollhouses and gets full eating just a few berries, so there's no way he's anything dangerous. 

In fact, he helps you out a lot! He makes you tea and helps you clean despite being so tiny. And it's really cute when he sits on your shoulder or gives you little cheek kisses or little gifts! You're still wearing that necklace with an adorable acorn charm he made you.

So of course you appreciate his company. Besides, you've been feeling a little lonely as of late, what with so many of your friends getting sick lately. You're not sure how you avoided the weird stomach bug that's been going around, but you don't really question it.

Because really, why would you ever question it? It's not like you're aware that your new little fairy friend enchanted that necklace of yours to make your friends sick whenever they talk to you, nor are you aware that he's been feeding you enchanted tea to make you more fae than human, hoping to whisk you away to the fairy realm.

Because really, why would you ever doubt him?

He's so cute and harmless, after all.

[dial-achos-gwenllian]

‘The Burial at the Giants’ Ring’ - Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae.

Like his brother Ambrosius, Uthr (anglicised as Uther) met his death after being poisoned, and both were buried within the Giants’ Ring near Salisbury. Geoffrey of Monmouth describes the removal of a ring of stones from Mount Killaraus in Ireland that had been placed there by giants to Salisbury to memorialise a massacre of Britons. Constantine, the king who follows Arthur after he is taken to Avalon after Camlann, was also buried here upon his death. I’ve only chosen to represent Ambrosius and Uthr here as I wanted to focus more on it as a location during what would have been Arthur’s lifetime. The editor of Geoffrey’s text, Lewis Thorpe, also notes that it is likely that Geoffrey could have been confusing Stonehenge and another stone circle at Avebury nearby, but I’ve chosen to use Stonehenge here.

I’ve always found him to be a complicated individual in the Welsh tradition as a modern person reading it. In Geoffrey’s depiction, he is both an incredibly successful warrior, it is prophesied that his son will have a great empire and his daughter’s descendants will retain the kingship of Britain, and he is the father of the greatest Welsh hero. But it is this last point which becomes a difficult part - his love for Arthur’s mother, Eigr (Ygerna or Igraine), and his decision and methodology when acting on it are, to a modern audience, quite obscene. He, with the help of Myrddin (Merlin), disguises himself as her husband, Gorlois, and they sleep together, conceiving Arthur that same night.

I think modern interpretations often follow this track of him being a complex (but generally quite a bad) person. In almost all the literature, he is heavily overshadowed by his son - my rather destroyed and heavily referenced copy of Geoffrey’s text sums his kingship up in around 9 pages. Although it wasn’t necessarily a long reign, it pales in comparison to the time given to Arthur, who takes up around 50 pages, around 20% of the text. Mentions of his beyond the Welsh tradition also leave out perhaps one of the coolest things about Uthr which is his ability to potentially shape-shift. The shapeshifting he does in Geoffrey’s text is magically induced by Merlin, but recent scholarship (including my own current research!) suggests that this is a run off from Uthr’s supernatural powers in other texts. The Trioedd Ynys Prydein records that Uthr taught a ‘great enchantment�� to Menw ap Teirgwaedd, likely the shapeshifting he performs in Culhwch ac Olwen when travelling to Esgair Oerfel. I would love to see this sort of stuff included in depictions of him, especially as they’re so absent in the English and Continental traditions!

Anyway, continuing with my inability to complete any artwork within the time limit given, this is again based on @mortiscausa ‘s #marchtocamelot, instead on the theme of ‘family’. Yet another information dump to go with it, but Lord knows doing two degrees in the subject means you have a lot to say in the long run!

[wraaronsen]

A New Kind of Revenge

Aronsen was still recovering from the dream as he stumbled up winding crypt stairs to the surface. The dim gaze of the Ghostlands soothed him as he tried to separate the barrage of memories that felt like they were his own invade his conscious so vividly. He felt her humiliation, her rage seething in his thoughts. Confusion made him panic a bit as he tried to understand. He had heard of spiritualists in many practices of magic but he was not performing any spell. Was this some sort of supernatural attack? Lillandyr —no— Anya was alive and all too real. But to what purpose? He saw no strategy at play. Was it unintentional? Something he was doing?

It was a good distraction. It was times like these he relied on his soldier's discipline and headed to the Dracone training room. It was a long hall that spanned several floors with high arching windows and balconies for spectators. Stone floors covered in reed mats woven to expert tightness allowed a balanced grip. Aronsen's feet crunched a whisper as he entered the fighting arena down below. The walls were adorned with every kind of weapon in Azeroth. He walked over to ornate shelves and sorted through clothes the Castle had conjured. He dressed for fighting but kept his chest and feet bare, stepping back into the fighting area with a heavy sword that looked like a replica from his enchanted one, but dull and without magic.

Fingers curled one by one over the hilt as he stalked to the center, brows furrowed in anticipated attack. A low, subsonic hum emanates from the floor. From the encircling darkness, shadowy forms emerged, materializing into combat-ready silhouettes.

The shadow forms circled, then lunged without warning. Aronsen dodged, parried, countered with well-honed skill. Each landed blow on his shadowed foes produced a brilliant burst of incandescent blue, marking the successful strikes.

The chamber seemed alive with thrumming magic, responding to his every move, every command. His lunges and thrusts tired out his racing mind, replacing confused thoughts with measured breaths, calculated reactions.

This kind of focus came so easily to him, a dance he mastered with a ferocity usually unmatched. His tournaments always had to be corrupted, in some way, so he wouldn't win them all. It was bad for business. He'd been poisoned twice before a match, and once he was set on fire from an incredibly stupid footman. Anything to throw the odds.

His audiences were enthralled by his style, his unusual gracefulness at his size, the way he was unnervingly quick. He moved like a slender person light on their feet, but he was massive with a terrifying bulk to him. It gave him a heroic splendor almost unearthly long before he became undead.

When Anya's mind connected to his, forcing an eruption from his focus he fell to his knees, feeling the strikes and then pause from the Castle's shadow opponents. They vanished into smoke as he laid back writhing and panting on the ground, terrified while he witnessed the intrusive second memory.

The drama unfolded him into every emotion, witnessing her unsuccessful mass murder attempt. The subsequent humiliation and abuse sent a surge of those feelings flooding over him.

Varistan.

He imagined disfiguring his pretty face, making him feel ugly and unwanted. Disposable. Revenge surged through his body, making him shake. He never shook. Not from battle. Not from abuse or defeat. But now... now he felt a type of rage to sate immediately. He felt dangerous, urgent. He desired blood. Chasing shadows wouldn't do, he needed to feel it.

It was time for a hunt.

(Sculpture by Sculpture By Tomasz Górnicki)

@lillandyrshadowglade

[paeliae-occasionally]

if i gave you a prompt, could you write a story about it? maybe relate it to your lore?

the prompt is—a person who lost something deeply personal and important to them, and is hellbent on getting it back, while their comrades try to console them (since they know it is impossible to retrieve).

sorry it is so specific. you reblog so much i want to read more of your original writing. you only posted two scene and they are very well written.

thank you. 🙂

Ok yeah I’ll try this!

Ok its going to be a little different but the same vibe. This scene is Ez going to Schaeres to ask her for Rin back after he was killed and sent to her realm. Hope you enjoy.

Ez and Rin

The body lay still on the bed as Ez placed every blessing he could think of over it.

‘Don’t worry my love.’ He whispered. ‘You won’t decay here. I’ll find you.’ His tear-stained eyes hardened as a slow burning determination settled over him.

His footsteps were unfaltering as he crossed the small room. ‘I will find you.’ He promised.

The world fell away as he began to walk, faster, pulling the magic from the air around him and weaving it into a portal.

‘Tamir’sul’ he said as the rift began to open, tearing between the planes and connecting the living to the dead. Ez stepped through and disappeared.

Ezemhaziel appeared on a dirt path blocked by a wrought bronze gate tinted green with age. It was only his affinity for magic that stopped him laughing at death’s crumbling defence.

The gate was suffused with power as if it was built not of metal, but pure unfiltered Ike. Magic poured from it, flowing over its surface and onto the dusty ground below. The enchantments whispered of old bindings and the paths of the dead bound behind it. Necromancers, cheats and those unjustly killed.

Yes. Ez though to himself. His soul will be here.

The god’s eyes narrowed in focus, after all magic was his domain. He walked forward carefully to touch the bars.

‘I wouldn’t do that’ A voice cut. Cold and sharp.

A jolt of recognition shot through him as he turned to face her. ‘Schaeres.’ He considered the goddess. ‘You will let me in or I will do it myself.’

‘What are you looking for? Or should I ask who?’ She met his eyes. ‘Don’t think yourself the first god to come knocking at my gates. You won’t be the first I’ve turned away.’

‘I’ll be the first to leave willingly when you return him.’ He said, voice shaking gently.

‘Rin is at peace. He told me you would come.’

Ez inhaled sharply. ‘He did?’

The goddess nodded. ‘He said you should leave him here.’

‘I can’t leave.’ Ez’s voice cracked. ‘Not while he is trapped there.’ He took another step towards the gate.

‘Stop, magic god.’ The breeze picked up around them as she spoke ‘He is gone. Let him rest.’

‘What rest?’ A short broken laugh shook the god’s form. ‘There is no rest. Not when we are apart.’

Schaeres followed him her eyes narrowing in concern as he reached the gate. ‘Trust me, Ezemhaziel, when I say I know loss. Honour him by living on.’

‘You cannot know loss and say that to me.’ Ezemhaziel spat, the goddess pulled back at the poison in his voice. ‘I cannot live!’

The God of magic, ever wise and thoughtful, shattered. He started pulling at the magic of the gate, tearing and unmaking the bonds that kept him from Rin. But the full power of Tamir’sul, the Unwaking Dawn, fought back. Reforming and strengthening the binds as the god clawed at them.

Feeling his magic fail Ez pulled on all of the power of his vast domain and pushed on the locked doors. Schaeres gaped as the the gate shifted and cracked but soon the god’s magic ran out and the realm’s power was limitless. Ez fell to the ground and the gate reformed.

Silence fell as the goddess of death stared down at the only creature capable of even weakening her realm’s binds as she watched the weight of hopelessness settle on his shoulders.

He pulled himself up to kneel before her, looking in desperation. ‘If you won’t give him back then bind me with him.’ He said. ‘There is nothing left for me if he is gone.’

‘I cannot do that.’ The calmness in her voice was lost on the weeping god.

‘What now then.’ He cried. ‘I cannot return. Everything I know is tainted by his absence.’

Schaeres hesitated for a second. ‘There is a place you could go.’ She looked away from the hope in the god’s eyes. ‘A place of emptiness and forgetting.’

‘Send me.’ Ezemhaziel begged.

The goddess nodded and he was gone.

She wandered over to the gate and traced a finger over the miniscule fractures that still suffused the enchantment. Fear crept into the back of her mind, not for her self, but for the world when the god of magic inevitably returns.

Thanks for the ask!

Tagging the tag list:

@thelovelymachinery, @an-indecisive-nerd, @the-letterbox-archives, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @winvyre

@happypup-kitcat24, @wyked-ao3, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @alnaperera, @dearunreliablenarrator

@rumeysawrites, @urnumber1star, @seastarblue, @thecomfywriter

[the-reader-insert-gazette]

Spellbound Shenanigans - F!Reader x Astarion

Baldurs Gate 3

When Reader discovers a magical pendant that grants wishes—with a twist—she and Astarion can't resist using it to stir up mischief.

TW: Characters experience brief loss of control over their actions through magical influence. While these moments are lighthearted and cause no harm, readers sensitive to themes of autonomy and control may wish to proceed with caution.

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The summer evening had just started its descent into dusk when [Name] stumbled upon the tiny, moss-covered chest beneath the roots of a twisted oak tree. She hadn’t planned to spend the night foraging this deep in the woodlands of Baldur’s Gate. Halsin had warned her to steer clear of areas known for their mischievous enchantments, but [Name], as always, had disregarded his advice, enticed by the promise of rare fungi growing only under the shade of ancient trees.

When she pried the chest open, something metallic glimmered back. Inside laid a small, golden pendant, twisted into the shape of a horned creature, with a tiny glinting ruby in the center. A shiver ran through her fingers as she brushed the dirt from its surface, and a faint voice echoed in her mind. The message was simple, almost a whisper: Wish for whatever your heart desires.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. Wishes weren’t her style—she preferred tangible rewards over fairy tales and magic promises. But something about this amulet tugged at her curiosity. Maybe, she thought, it’d be amusing to see just how reliable a “wish” could be.

“Oh, why not?” she muttered, more to the pendant than herself. Astarion would’ve had a good laugh at the idea of her buying into this. “Might as well start small. Alright, amulet, let’s see you work. I wish for… a strong drink waiting for me back at camp.” She scoffed, expecting nothing.

The moment she snapped the lid shut, there was a faint popping noise from somewhere to her right. She followed it, half-expecting to find nothing but shadows and forest noises. But instead, perched on a stump, was a delicately poured glass of red wine, the liquid rich and dark as the night sky.

Her brows furrowed as she examined the glass, sniffing it cautiously. “That… doesn’t smell like anything poisonous.” And as she took a sip, the wine’s taste was as fine as anything she’d nicked from the larders of Baldur’s Gate's wealthiest estates. She couldn’t help a small grin. “Alright, this could be interesting.”

With that, she pocketed the pendant and made her way back to camp, her curiosity now mingling with a giddy spark of amusement. But it wasn’t until she got close enough to see the campfire glow that she realized what had truly followed her.

Astarion was pacing near the fire, a flicker of frustration in his crimson gaze. “Well, there you are,” he snapped, turning as she approached. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d run off for good.”

“Relax, I was just…” She hesitated, deciding against the full truth. “Foraging.”

His eyes narrowed. “Right. And found anything of interest?”

“Oh, a few things.” She tossed him a coy smile, deciding to keep the amulet to herself. For now, anyway.

The night went on as usual, with [Name] ignoring the pendant and engaging in their typical banter with Astarion over the fire. But as the hour grew late, her fingers itched toward the amulet again, thoughts forming, playful and teasing in the back of her mind. Perhaps it was the wine—or maybe the night’s quiet that had her on edge—but [Name]'s focus drifted to Astarion, and, on impulse, she thought, I wish Astarion would… well, maybe smile a little more. Genuinely, just for once. She closed her fingers around the amulet, almost laughing at the absurdity of it.

Moments later, Astarion chuckled—a sound rare and softer than his usual sarcastic remarks. He turned to her, a strangely earnest grin spreading across his face. “You know, [Name], I’ve always thought you have a rather… charming presence.”

[Name]'s eyes widened as he continued, words pouring from him with alarming enthusiasm.

“And did I mention your wit?” he continued, inching closer to her on the log. “Positively dazzling. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever truly appreciated just how radiant you are in the moonlight.”

[Name], usually unfazed, felt heat rising to her cheeks. “Alright, Astarion, that’s enough.”

But Astarion leaned even closer, his gaze locked on her in a way that was both genuine and utterly unnerving. “Oh, but I could go on for hours. Your sharp tongue, your impeccable taste in foraging locations—”

“Astarion!” she yelped, pressing a hand to his chest to put some space between them. His hand caught hers, his gaze softening. Her heart hammered, and she suddenly understood that the amulet had a twisted sense of humor.

The next morning, [Name] was sorely tempted to throw the pendant into the nearest river, but her stubborn nature got the better of her. As she rolled it between her fingers, a thought struck her, another mischievous wish. I wish he’d leave me alone for once.

But when she emerged from her tent, Astarion was gone. And so was his tent. And his supplies. Her eyes widened as she realized he’d vanished entirely.

“Damn it,” she muttered, clutching the pendant tighter. “I didn’t mean that alone.”

It took her hours to find him. She combed through the forest until she spotted him perched under a tree, absently humming a tune. When he noticed her approach, he gave a lazy wave, completely unfazed by her worried expression. “[Name]! What a surprise to see you here. Did you get lonely?”

She glared at him. “I didn’t exactly mean for you to disappear without a trace.”

“Oh, but what a glorious night it was!” He winked, clearly amused by her distress. “I’m flattered you missed me, though. Really, you should say it more often.”

“Enough,” she growled, reaching for the pendant with a huff. But before she could utter another wish, Astarion’s hand shot out, plucking the amulet from her fingers.

“Oh, [Name],” he purred, eyes glinting with mischief as he examined the pendant. “And here I thought you weren’t one for whimsical magic.”

She reached for it, but he held it just out of her grasp. “Give it back.”

“Now, now,” he tutted, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to see what I wish for?”

[Name]'s heart raced. “Astarion—don’t you dare.”

But he merely held up a finger to his lips, pressing the pendant to his chest. “I wish…” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “For [Name] to be utterly enchanted with me. Just for a day, mind you.”

The effects were immediate and, to her horror, uncontrollable. [Name] felt a wave of warmth rise within her, a magnetic pull toward him she couldn’t resist, a sudden and irrational urge to… reach out and touch his face.

Astarion’s grin softened as she instinctively stepped closer, her fingers brushing his cheek. “Oh, I should have wished for this sooner,” he murmured, tilting his face into her hand.

Her hand jerked away, but her heart betrayed her, and she found herself leaning closer. She knew it was the pendant, yet in that moment, logic lost its hold. For the first time in all their sparring, their proximity, and their endless taunting, she didn’t have a snarky retort.

“[Name]…” he whispered, and it wasn’t the mocking tone she’d come to expect. There was something softer, raw. And it nearly undid her.

The pendant clattered to the ground, breaking the spell with its faint clink. [Name] blinked, regaining her senses. “That… that was a low blow,” she managed, stumbling back, cheeks aflame.

Astarion, who’d frozen in place, slowly straightened. His playful smile faltered as he met her gaze, something akin to hesitation flashing across his face. “Well… consider us even.”

The amulet, lying between them, pulsed faintly before dimming back into silence, as though content with the mayhem it had caused. [Name] knelt, slipping it into her pocket, her eyes lingering on him just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“A pity we didn’t get a real wish, hm?” she murmured, unable to keep the note of longing from her voice. “One that doesn’t come with consequences.”

He stepped closer, his gaze lingering, almost contemplative. “Maybe we don’t need one.”

[Name] felt her pulse quicken as she watched Astarion’s expression shift from playful to… something softer, something vulnerable. The kind of look he rarely allowed himself. His gaze flickered to her lips, just for a second, before he looked away with a self-conscious chuckle.

“Don’t look at me like that, darling,” he said, forcing a smirk. “Or I might start to think this little wish of mine wasn’t all pretend.”

She felt herself flush, caught between the remnants of the enchantment and the stark realization that some part of her hadn’t wanted to resist it. Clearing her throat, she turned away, trying to gather her composure. “Pretend or not, I’d appreciate if you’d leave my wishes alone next time.”

Astarion laughed, but it was a quieter sound, lacking his usual bite. “Noted. Though, I’m not entirely convinced you hated it.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a murmur as he leaned in. “Or maybe you just don’t want to admit that for once, something actually worked in your favor.”

She opened her mouth to snap back, but he held up his hand, surprising her.

“No need to wound me with one of your verbal jabs.” His eyes softened, and he gave a light shrug. “I’ll spare you my devilish charms for now, [Name]. But,” he continued, raising an eyebrow, “it is a shame, don’t you think? Having a magic item like that and not making full use of it?”

[Name]'s fingers twitched as she felt the amulet’s weight in her pocket. Despite everything, curiosity and mischief warred in her mind. One more wish, a voice in her head whispered. Just to see. What would happen if she tried one more—without Astarion’s meddling this time?

She held the pendant out, eyeing it as if testing her own resolve. “Fine. One more. But no interruptions, understood?”

Astarion raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning as he took a step back. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Alright, she thought, focusing on the words she was about to say. “I wish…” she paused, her cheeks heating as she considered something utterly foolish, “I wish Astarion could show some affection without all his usual swagger.”

Astarion's smirk faltered as the pendant flashed in her hand, its magic humming around them. He blinked, a moment of confusion flashing across his face, before his gaze settled on her, softer and—dare she believe it—genuine.

He took a small step closer, his hand reaching out hesitantly. This time, there was no sly grin, no playful glint in his eyes. “You know, [Name],” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… quite remarkable. Even if you do have a penchant for dangerous enchantments and dubious wishes.”

[Name]'s heart pounded as he moved closer, his fingers grazing her cheek in a gesture so tender it nearly undid her. There was a vulnerability in his touch, a hesitance she hadn’t seen in him before, as if he feared the magic might break if he tried too hard. She swallowed, watching him, unable to find words.

“You, of all people,” he continued, his voice quiet and oddly reverent, “have a way of reminding me there’s more to this world than all the games we play. More than surviving.”

His hand dropped, and for a brief moment, she thought he’d step back, but he lingered, his gaze locked on hers, and his expression completely unguarded. “I’ve spent so long… existing in fragments of myself. Pieces I thought would hold forever. But somehow,” he paused, and his lips quirked in a soft, almost sad smile, “being around you… it’s like I can’t help but feel… whole.”

The words, so uncharacteristically earnest, hung between them like a suspended breath, the kind of confession that could only have been coaxed out by magic—or something beyond it.

She didn’t realize her own hand had moved until her fingers brushed his, her heart pounding loud enough that she was sure he could hear it. “Astarion…” she started, voice caught between awe and disbelief.

“Yes?” he replied, his tone so gentle she almost didn’t recognize it.

But then, the pendant’s light flickered, and the spell’s glow faded. As the magic dissipated, Astarion’s expression slowly shifted back to his usual guarded smirk, the vulnerability in his eyes slipping away like a wisp of smoke.

“Ah,” he sighed, stepping back, hands on his hips as if nothing had happened. “I suppose that’s the end of that, hmm?” He shot her a teasing grin, his walls firmly back in place. “Though, I have to say, I think I handled it with remarkable restraint, don’t you?”

[Name] huffed, trying to ignore the hollow ache in her chest at the sudden distance between them. “Restraint isn’t exactly what I’d call that performance, Astarion.”

His smile widened. “Come now, darling, you know me better than that. I’m an open book!” He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning innocence, but [Name] caught the flicker of something in his gaze—something that hadn’t entirely vanished with the magic.

She rolled her eyes, letting her own defenses slide back into place. “Well, if you’re an open book, then it’s one I’ve already read a hundred times over.”

“Oh, touché.” He gave a theatrical bow, but his gaze softened for just a moment. “But if you find yourself needing another ‘page-turner,’ you know where to find me.”

They shared a long look, one that held both mischief and a hint of the unspoken. She knew the magic had faded, the wish expired, yet a lingering spark remained, something neither of them could entirely brush off.

As they returned to camp, side by side but with a careful distance, [Name] glanced back at the pendant, her fingers brushing its surface thoughtfully. Perhaps she’d keep it around, not for the wishes it offered, but for the chance, however fleeting, to glimpse something true.

For in those brief, enchanted moments, she had seen the person he could be beneath the masks they both wore. And maybe, just maybe, it was enough to keep her wishing, long after the magic had faded.

The days following that strange evening passed in their usual rhythm—fights, foraging, campfire conversations, and the occasional magical mishap. Despite their tendency to quarrel, [Name] and Astarion found themselves naturally drifting back toward each other. The pendant, now tucked securely in [Name]'s satchel, pulsed with a faint, mischievous hum as if waiting for its next command.

A few nights later, as the campfire crackled and their companions relaxed after another hard-won battle, [Name] nudged Astarion, a smirk spreading across her face. The others had no idea about the pendant's existence or its strange magic, and she was itching to see what else it could do.

Astarion, catching her expression, raised a brow. “Something on your mind, darling?” he murmured, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Perhaps,” she whispered back, pulling out the pendant and giving it a meaningful shake. “Think they could use a bit of ‘wishful’ intervention?”

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Their first target was Gale, who sat a few paces away, meticulously stirring a pot of stew over the fire. The wizard muttered to himself as he sprinkled in herbs, his eyes darting between his alchemy set and a collection of arcane ingredients.

Astarion leaned closer, whispering, “Something subtle for the esteemed wizard, don’t you think?”

[Name] grinned. “I wish Gale would share a rather embarrassing story about his life. Just… let it spill right out.”

The pendant flashed briefly, and they waited. Within moments, Gale blinked as if a stray thought had just crossed his mind.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to impress a group of sorcerers in Waterdeep?” he said suddenly, his voice louder than usual. The whole camp turned to him, caught off guard.

Astarion bit back a laugh as Gale continued, clearly unaware of his own volition. “I thought, you see, that a display of fireworks would showcase my ‘vast’ power. But something went wrong, and instead of a beautiful display, I accidentally conjured… well, hundreds of pigeons. Yes, pigeons. They swarmed everyone. Feathers everywhere.”

Tav burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. Shadowheart’s smirk was the closest to a full laugh any of them had seen from her in days.

“Oh, Gale,” Tav chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes. “You? Chased out of Waterdeep by a flock of pigeons?”

Gale turned red, his mouth moving as though he couldn’t quite understand why he was recounting the story. “Yes… and, er… that’s enough about that.” He cleared his throat, looking suspiciously at the pendant in [Name]'s hands, though he said nothing more.

[Name] and Astarion exchanged a gleeful glance, their eyes landing next on Lae’zel, who sat by herself, sharpening her sword and scowling as always. Astarion’s grin turned wicked. “Shall we try our luck with our dear githyanki?”

“Oh, definitely,” [Name] replied, her fingers brushing the pendant as she thought up the next wish. “I wish Lae’zel would feel compelled to offer everyone in the camp a compliment. A genuine one.”

The pendant flashed again, and [Name] quickly slipped it into her pocket as Lae’zel’s head jerked up, her sharp gaze suddenly drifting over her companions. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then spoke as if the words had been wrenched from her.

“Tav,” she growled, her voice laced with reluctance, “your strength… is formidable. Few could stand as long as you do in battle.”

The entire camp fell silent, heads turning toward her in varying degrees of shock and amusement. Tav blinked, clearly at a loss. “Uh… thanks, Lae’zel.”

Lae’zel’s face twisted as she forced herself to look at Gale next. “You have… wisdom,” she said with difficulty, as though each word was an uphill battle. “Even if your spells are often… irrelevant.”

Gale, still recovering from his own magical slip, gave a dignified nod, though he couldn’t quite hide his smile. “Much appreciated, Lae’zel. Truly.”

Lae’zel’s gaze snapped to Astarion, her jaw clenched. “You… have survived this long despite your many… shortcomings. A testament to… adaptability.”

Astarion placed a hand to his chest, feigning surprise. “Why, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you cared.”

“Do not test me,” she hissed, her face red with barely contained rage.

Finally, she turned to [Name], and her expression softened, if only slightly. “You possess a resilience worthy of admiration, [Name].” The words left her lips reluctantly, yet there was a sliver of sincerity in her tone.

[Name] smirked, offering a little bow. “Why, thank you, Lae’zel. I’m deeply touched.”

As the spell faded, Lae’zel scowled, her fingers tightening around her sword. “If any of you mention this again, I will personally end you.”

Tav raised her hands, still chuckling. “Not a word, Lae’zel. Promise.”

Shadowheart, who had been watching silently with a glint of amusement in her eyes, was the next obvious target. Astarion turned to [Name], his voice low. “Now, our darling Shadowheart. Any ideas?”

“Oh, plenty,” [Name] replied, a devilish smile on her face. “I wish Shadowheart would find herself compelled to dance by the fire. Just for a few moments.”

The pendant hummed in her pocket, and they waited, eyes on Shadowheart as she poured herself a cup of tea. Just as she lifted it to her lips, her foot began tapping to an unseen rhythm. Her expression twisted in surprise as her other foot joined, and soon enough, she was standing, her body swaying in an oddly graceful, if reluctant, rhythm.

The whole camp stared, mouths agape, as Shadowheart spun lightly, her movements precise and surprisingly elegant, despite the clear annoyance flashing in her eyes.

“Shadowheart, I didn’t know you were so light on your feet!” Tav teased, clapping in time to the beat of her steps.

Shadowheart glared daggers at her, even as her feet continued to dance. “I have no idea why I’m doing this. But rest assured, I do plan on finding out.”

[Name] stifled her laughter, nudging Astarion as the dance slowly came to an end. “I think that’s our cue to retire before anyone gets suspicious.”

The pair moved to their tents, trying to contain their laughter, though Astarion was practically doubled over. “Ah, darling, that was perfect. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”

“Neither have I,” [Name] admitted, glancing back at the fire where the others were still laughing, and, despite her usual detachment, feeling a small, warm satisfaction at the shared laughter.

As they ducked into their tents, [Name] felt a faint, lingering pulse from the pendant, as if it, too, was pleased with the mischief it had caused. Maybe it had its downsides, but tonight had proven that with the right partners in crime, even magic gone awry could create moments worth holding on to.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

After starting 12 different campaigns going up to the middle of Act 2, I finally finished the game, taking the Astarion romance route (despite being a Gale girly). And which that comes... this?

Also don't mind me including Tav as a camp member, I just love their dialogue at times lol

[cmac585855]

FIXING THE RANGER

Ranger has had an identity crisis across multiple  tabletop games. It's a mix of multiple classes between fighter, rogue, and druid. However it doesn't tend to know what things to focus on to give it a proper identity and usually is weak compared to more focused classes. Or other classes do what it can do but better.

So here's an outline of what I would love to see in a Ranger to be good. This will probably seem like a lot but considering how weak a Ranger is and how weak martial classes are at high levels, it would take alot to make them overpowered.

SPELLS: druids tend to use there magic to heal or use offensive blasting and  battle form polymorphs. They don't tend to have enchantments, illusions, etc unless it's a fey subclass because that would let them do too many things.

To differentiate Ranger from druid let's lean into that fey theme. Let's have lots of illusion and enchantment, and general utility spells that let them be good at infiltration and getting close to a target. There a martial character! Let them use their martial prowess in fights instead of burning through spells every fight on hunters mark. Let's let spells be used in other situations so that they can do more outside of combat.

Between chameleon, invisibility, illusiory doubles, disguise self, polymorphing to turn into a rat, and knowledge in mundane camouflage and disguises, they will be the premier magical infiltrator with multiple ways to be somewhere you shouldn't be. And enchantments will let you deal with anyone who asks too many questions. It also lets you calm or befuddle your prey to make them an easier target.

Outside of this they should have a myriad of spells that are just for utility for specifically gaining information. They are masters at tracking and knowing enemy weaknesses. So they get the usual spells that let them commune with plants and animals as well as spells that let them find out where someone is and the best way to kill them. We can flavour these as a kind of green witch style divination magic. 

while these of course are very useful spells the Ranger is still a martial class and will have very limited spells per day as a result which is typical of rangers. But this let's those few spells slots that they do have go alot farther with greater utility.

So what can they do when they can't rely on magic?

HERBALIST: remember when aragorn was able to use his knowledge of healing plants to help frodo after he was wounded by nazgul?  Ranger should be able to access their survival skills to utilise plants in ways to help their allies and hinder foes.

As part of daily preparations you can get a number of healing poultices you can use that let you heal someone you can touch as well as a number of poisons you can use to apply to weapons. These poisons will scale with your class DC so they stay relevant.  We can even have different poisons that apply various different debuffs that we get more access to as we gain levels. If short rests are a thing they can recover some of their supply during them. This is useful utility without outshining a alchemist/Artificer who can utilise ALL things alchemical along with potions and bombs while the Ranger focuses solely on plants.

This is another consumable resource though. Is there something they can use to be useful when out of supplies?

MONSTER HUNTER

Once a Ranger has chosen its prey it won't stop till it tracks it down and defeats it, and it is exceptionally good at doing both. A Ranger can use an action to choose its prey. Once done, all skill checks related to tracking or finding out information about their prey gain a bonus. As well as any other skill checks that relate to their prey. Whether that be sneaking, deception, etc. They get a bonus if it involves their prey.

Once they find their prey and our planning on taking it down, they can study target. Using their extensive monster lore they recall knowledge about the creature and what it's weakness is. They get a bonus to attack and damage against their prey, as well as offensive skill checks such as grappling, tripping, etc.

they can impart to their team a smaller bonus to attack and damage against your prey as well, by calling out to them and relaying your recalled information to them.

This let's rangers not be limited to a favored enemy that they may not run into during a campaign and instead pick a single enemy in an encounter to focus down and do consistently good damage. As opposed to a rogue who does good burst damage with sneak attack but has to set it up first. It also let's them provide support to their team by imparting a buff as well, without stepping on the bards toes since its only an offensive buff against a single specific target.

In order to have more of a hunter theme though they need a little bit more then to just hit real good.

EXPERT TRAPPER.

if the rogue is the master of disabling traps the Ranger should be the master of making them. It's not often that the party has opportunities to set traps for their enemies but when the opportunity presents itself the Ranger can layout the perfect set of deathtraps for any sorry fool who stumbles upon it. A Ranger with prep time should feel like a combination of Fred from Scrooby doo and batman.

Now lastly we need something to keep Ranger competitive at higher levels. That let's them fight a kaiju and hordes of enemies and contribute in the same way a wizard dropping  meteor nukes do......

WEREWOLF FORM:

this one is a bit of a stretch but hear me out. You don't get to play as werewolves easily in these games. Older games like diablo and BG2 let druids turn into werewolves but most modern games only let druids become animals not monsters. This would let the Ranger stand out by becoming an ultimate apex predator when he's backed into a corner.

This would NOT have any of the utility of wildshape as its only a single form that has no utility other than murder. And it would NOT have the same reliability as a barbarians rage. While rage is a barbarians consistent bread and butter this is more like a last ditch effort, only to be used on the absolute toughest of foes. Its uses per day would be severely limited if not just once per day. But when you do use it you have essentially turned into the hulk for the amount of power you bring.

Again this is mostly so that when fighting high level monsters you can feel like your doing more than just "i shoot my arrow and do 1d6 to godzillas big toe" and instead can turn huge, leap at the monster and rip and tear while going for the jugular.

EVERYTHING ELSE

Other than that everything else should be pretty straight forward as what you'd expect.

They have the martial capabilites expected of a martial character as normal, along with the skills to be expected of a Ranger to be good at stealth, deception, monster knowledges, nature, and survival. Along with a pretty keen perception.

As a martial class, there will be decision points as well to customise your fighting style to your particular tastes.  Do you want to be a the classic archytpical archer? Or maybe a woodsman who fights with an axe? Class features and feats will help to flesh out these choices and make each fighting style feel unique.

SUBCLASSES

Some people like to think of the ranger as a "pet" class, one that regularly gets to fight alongside an animal companion. While a fun idea i don't like this as a "core" class feature cause it can get in the way of some build concepts. So instead I'd have the animal companion Ranger be a subclass

The werewolf feature could be expanded on to be the primary focus of its own subclass, so that people that really want to lean in on being able to play as a werewolf can get the full experience.

If someone wanted to build around fighting hordes of enemies instead of focusing down one single target, there could be a subclass that reworks how monster lore and marked prey work. This Horde slayer Ranger could be a someone who takes on monsters such as zombies that are weak individually but dealing with many can be a problem, and excel at dispatching waves efficiently.

There are many ways you can tweak the concept with subclasses, and thankfully this concept puts enough core features on the Ranger to better allow for tweaking, mixing and matching of features in other subclass concepts.

CONCLUSION:

I think a version of Ranger like this provides a lot of abilities that work thematically and mechanically, and allow the Ranger to have plenty to do both in combat and out of it. Your a master of gathering information through a truly versitile number of ways. And in a fight you can make a single target truly miserable, which makes you pretty great at fighting the toughest thing in the room, all while providing supplemental support to your party. This package makes ranger feel like they are contributing more to the party and doesn't make you feel like you should of just of picked a fighter with a bow.

Maybe one day I'll actually homebrew a version of this with proper playable outline for 5e or pathfinder, but for now I just wanted to spill my thoughts onto a page.

[thefoxlady]

I want to talk about a Don't Starve x Skyrim thing because I've been playing Skyrim and I had fun with my Dwarven Warrior build.

(I am going to anger both the DST and Skyrim fandoms am I?)

Here's a few Don't Starve characters, their builds, races, what type of armor they would wear and what type of weapons they would use (one handed, two handed, one handed + shield, etc.)

Wilson: Wilson would most likely be a mage, he would enchant his armor and weapons and make his own potions. He would wear light armor and have a sword, he would use some destruction magic if needed and uses alteration magic. As for his race, he would either be a Nord, Breton, or a High Elf (maybe even a Dark Elf).

Willow: Willow would obviously be a fire mage. Willow specializes in destruction magic, specifically fire magic, she would also conjure a flame atronach. The enchantments she would use is fire damage on her sword, fortify one handed, and fortify destruction and magicka regeneration. Willow would wear light armor and is one handed, she would use a sword. Her race would either be a Nord, Dark Elf, Redguard or a Imperial. And to make things interesting, she would be a werebear.

Winona: Winona would be a blacksmith, she would make her own weapons and armor (nothing like some hard work), she would also enchant her own armor and weapons. The enchantments she'll use is fortify block, fortify one handed, fortify smithing, and health/stamina absorb on her mace. Winona would wear heavy armor and use a mace and shield. Her race would either be a Redguard, Imperial, or a Orc.

Wes: Wes would be an assassin, he would make poisons to make killing targets easier, he would be sneaky (silent but deadly). Wes would wear light armor, use a dagger and bow and arrows, the enchantments he'll use would be fortify archery, fortify sneak/muffled, and frost resistance due to his race. His race would be a Argonian.

Wolfgang: Wolfgang is a strongman so he would wear heavy armor and use two handed weapons, most likely a warhammer, he would also use a bow for far away enemies. The enchantments he'll use are fortify two handed, fortify archery, stamina regeneration, and health regeneration. His race would be a Orc.

Wigfrid: Wigfrid would be a warrior, she would wear light armor and use a war axe and shield, she would also have a bow for far away enemies. The enchantments she'll use is fortify block, fortify one handed, fortify archery, stamina regeneration, and health absorb on her war axe. Her race would either be a Nord, Redguard, or a Orc.

Wendy: Wendy would be a necromancer mage because of Abigail and her fascination with death. She would use restoration, conjuration, alteration, and destruction magic. She would carry around a dagger just in case, her enchantments would centered be around magic. She would wear light armor for some protection. Her race with either be a Dark Elf or a High Elf.

WX-78 would be a Dwemer robot, he would use destruction magic that's focused around shock magic. I really don't know what else to say other than that.

Wickerbottom: Wickerbottom would be a conjuration mage. Wickerbottom would specialize in conjuration, alteration, and restoration magic. She would carry around a dagger just in case. Her enchantments would focus around conjuration, alteration, and restoration with magicka regeneration. Wickerbottom would wear light armor. Her race would be a High Elf.

(I realized most of the characters I talked about here are mages, lol.)

What do you guys think about the other Don't Starve characters' builds and races? Do you agree on what I thought up here?

[pathfinderunlocked]

Helletic Lifeform - CR20 Aberration

Now let's see how the mako juice is reacting!

Artwork by The Archworks on Tumblr.

This monster is based on Helletic Hojo, a late-game boss in Final Fantasy VII. The term "helletic" is either a mistranslation or pun of the word "heretic," depending on how generous you want to be to the translator who wrote the sentence "This guy are sick." When you fought Hojo in Final Fantasy 7, he started out as a human scientist, transformed into Helletic Hojo (the form in the image above) after taking a certain amount of damage, and transformed again into Lifeform Hojo (which looked like this) when close to dying. That's a lot of forms for a Pathfinder boss, so this creature is mainly inspired by the second form.

Similar to a hydra, I wanted this creature's limbs to be targetable separately from its main body, but I wanted that to be more than just a defensive property of the monster. I also wanted its limbs to flail about semi-mindlessly on their own, as if uncontrolled by the monster's body and mind. The end result not only makes this creature feel like a weird piecemeal chimera, but also helps mitigate the effects of many types of save-or-suck spells that the players might use (without fully negating them).

Helletic Lifeform - CR 20

The scientist's muscles start bulging, and then he screams in pain, as his body starts mutating rapidly.  He begins convulsing, and one of his arms splays open into a mass of writhing tentacles, while the other transforms into a giant claw.  You can hear his bones cracking as his skull elongates and splits apart, and his legs seem to melt into a fleshy mass.  His midsection tears open, and huge teeth line the edges of a gaping hole in where his stomach used to be, in the middle of which is a pod of some kind.  Through all of this, he seems to have grown a shell on his lower back reminiscent of a hermit crab.

XP 307,200 CE Huge aberration Init +2 Senses blindsight 100 ft.; Perception +43 Aura madness (60 ft., DC 33)

DEFENSE

AC 34, touch 6, flat-footed 34 (-2 Dex, +28 natural, –2 size) hp 528 (32d8+384) Fort +23, Ref +10, Will +22 DR 15/magic SR 31

OFFENSE

Speed 40 ft. Melee tentacles +32 (3d6+10 plus grab, see desynchronized attacks), claw +32 (4d6+10/19-20 plus 3d6 bleed, see desynchronized attacks) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks enemy hammering claw, poison acid breath (50-ft. cone, 18d10 acid, Reflex DC 34 half, 1d4 round cooldown)

Spell-Like Abilities (CL 20th; concentration +29)     Constant—caustic blood (DC 23)     At will—clairaudience/clairvoyance, dimension door, intellect fortress ii, mass inflict pain (DC 24), mass suggestion (DC 24), poison (touch +34, DC 21), telekinetic storm (DC 27)     3/day—quickened siphon magic (touch +34)

STATISTICS

Str 30, Dex 7, Con 32, Int 30, Wis 19, Cha 25 Base Atk +24; CMB +36 (+40 grapple); CMD 44 (38 vs. sunder; can’t be tripped) Feats Alertness, Cleave, Combat Casting, Great Cleave, Great Fortitude, Improved Critical (claw), Improved Initiative, Improved Lightning Reflexes, Lightning Reflexes, Power Attack, Spell Focus (enchantment, evocation, necromancy), Toughness, Uncanny Concentration, Quicken Spell-Like Ability (siphon magic) Skills Bluff +27, Climb +35, Craft (alchemy, traps) +42, Heal +36, Intimidate +18, Knowledge (arcana) +45, Knowledge (engineering, dungeoneering, planes) +42, Knowledge (geography, history, local, nature, nobility, religion) +18, Perception +43, Sense Motive +30, Spellcraft +45, Use Magic Device +39 Languages Aboleth, Abyssal, Aklo, Celestial, Common, Dwarven, Elven, Elder Thing, Gnomish, Infernal, Undercommon SQ desynchronized attacks, ultra-staggered movements

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Aura of Madness (Su) Any creature within 60 feet of a conscious helletic lifeform, other than itself, must succeed at a DC 33 Will saving throw each round or become confused for as long as it remains in the aura. A creature confused by this aura receives a new save each round on the helletic lifeform's turn to overcome this effect. A creature that successfully saves is immune to this aura on the helletic lifeform's next turn. A helletic lifeform can suppress or activate this aura as a free action. A creature that remains confused by this aura for 5 rounds becomes permanently insane, as per the insanity spell. This is a mind-affecting compulsion insanity effect. The save DC is Charisma-based.

Desynchronized Attacks (Ex) A helletic lifeform's tentacle limb and claw limb roll their own initiative with the same initiative bonus as the helletic lifeform. They act on their own initiative, and can act even if the helletic lifeform cannot act. They can only take a standard action on their turns, and cannot move. They cannot make their own attacks of opportunity; the helletic lifeform's main body makes attacks of opportunity with its claw and tentacles attacks. The claw limb performs claw attacks or uses the Enemy Hammering Claw ability, and the tentacle limb performs tentacle attacks. They are not creatures and can take no other actions. Both limbs use the helletic lifeform's statistics, and can use the Cleave and Great Cleave feats when making melee attacks.

A helletic lifeform's tentacle limb and claw limb can be targeted independently with sunder combat maneuvers. Any attack that is not an attempt to sunder a limb affects only the main body, including area attacks. To sunder a limb, an opponent must make a sunder attempt targeting a limb. A limb is considered a separate weapon with hit points equal to twice the helletic lifeform's hit dice (typically 64 hp per limb). To successfully sunder a limb, an opponent must inflict enough damage to reduce the limb's hit points to 0 or less. Sundering a limb deals damage to the helletic lifeform's body equal to the limb's total hp (typically 64). A helletic lifeform can't attack with a sundered limb, but takes no other penalties.

A helletic lifeform takes a -6 penalty to its CMD vs. attempts to sunder its tentacle limb and claw limb. This penalty is already included in its statistics above.

When a helletic lifeform sleeps to recover hit points, it can choose for any number of the hit points it regains from resting to be distributed to its limbs instead of its main body. If this brings a limb above 0 hp, it is no longer sundered.

Enemy Hammering Claw (Sp) A helletic lifeform can, as a standard action, telekinetically toss a creature within long range as described in the enemy hammer spell (typically with +27 to hit). It does not need to first spend a standard action to cast the spell. The creature being flung receives a Fortitude save (typically DC 23) to negate the effect.

Poison Acid Breath (Ex) 50-ft. cone, 12d10 acid damage plus poison, DC 34 Reflex halves.  After using this breath, a helletic lifeform cannot use it again for the next 1d4 rounds. The poison effect is an inhaled poison.

Poison (Ex) save Fort (DC 34); frequency 1/round for 6 rounds; effect staggered and 1 con damage; cure 1 save

Ultra-Staggered Movements A helletic lifeform is permanently staggered. Additionally, it cannot take a standard action two rounds in a row; if it took a standard action on the previous round, it can only take a move action on the current round.

Its claw limb and tentacles limb are not treated as staggered, and are not restricted in this way (see Desynchronized Attacks).

Uncanny Concentration A helletic lifeform does not need to make concentration checks when affected by vigorous or violent motion or by violent weather.

[baelavelaryon]

House Maevret and Ithlinne Backstory

House Maevret is barely considered a noble house at all, most nobles consider them only a few rungs above laborers, and yet they have carved out a niche for themselves that has made them powerful in their own way. The Maevrets have cultivated as much arcane knowledge as any other house, and their abjuration magic is second to none. The noblewomen spend their days weaving cloth enchanted with their protection magic, and their robes are sometimes exchanged for gold but they primarily trade in favor.

Ithlinne was born to Shiadhal Maevret, a particularly powerful sorcerer who couldn't have been more disappointed in her first daughter. After mothering two sons, both who turned out to be talented despite their sex, she had high hopes for her youngest... hopes that were dashed when Ithlinne revealed that she had none of her family's natural inclination for magic.

By age ten, she had been put aside by her mother; Ithlinne wasn't a sorcerer, nor was she strong, quick, or particularly clever, she was devout in her rituals but Lolth showed her no particular favor. Truly there was nothing her mother hoped for more than a second, more promising daughter. Ithlinne took to hiding in the compound's library, studying history and anatomy, which was when she learned the interesting history of her father's house, House Freth.

Many years ago, House Freth had been destroyed, and returned only through striking strange deals with the Cult of the Dragon, a society dedicated to serving undead dragon masters. This was the first time Ithlinne learned of the concept of a lich, an idea that would fascinate her for many years to come.

Having learnt this history, she began doing the strangest thing, seeking out and speaking to her father. Ithlinne's father was one of the three sons of the matron Erelal Freth, and a wizard of middling skill, he began to teach his daughter his manner of channeling the weave. And so at sixteen, she began to learn a form of magic.

To say that she excelled with this new teaching would be an overstatement, Ithlinne was a slow learner and always would be, but when she had a true passion for something she would put her entire focus on it, wearing it down like a wave against a cliff. She learned basic conjuration, some evocation... and finally convinced her father to teach her the simplest necromancy he knew.

As she grew older, her true passions remained with the concept of undeath, but Ithlinne had a role to fulfill, and eventually knew enough through study to replicate the complex glyphs her mother could weave with her eyes shut since she was a child. She also took over leading their chapel in service to Lolth, which both pleased her mother and herself.

After all, there were no rules on what must happen to the bodies once they had been killed in Lolth's name. No one else seemed to notice if a few went missing to further her studies in the passing of the soul and reanimation of the flesh.

A few decades passed like that, as calm as Menzoberranzan could be. Until her mother gave birth to another daughter. Nimue was everything Ithlinne wasn't, a perfect magical prodigy to further the line, with a sparkling personality and an easy air to her that Ithlinne had never had.

It was in Ithlinne's ninetieth year, and Nimue's fifth that her mother started trying to kill her.

The assassins caught her in the bath, her mother had clearly told them what she knew of her schedule and abilities, and they had come well-prepared. One had stabbed her between the shoulders with a poisoned blade before she could react, striking the other with lightning.

She wanted to master the ability to animate dead before informing anyone, the last thing she wanted was another failing for her mother to add to her list. This secret was probably the only thing that saved her. Having killed the first assassin, she was able to raise him as a zombie and set him on the second who did not expect it at all, keeping them away from her as she took the antidote that she always kept in a locket around her neck.

With the assassins dealt with, Ithlinne was faced with the knowledge that her mother wouldn't stop until she had either proven herself as heir, or gotten her out of the way so that her favored child could rule. Ithlinne was no fool, she knew her best option would be to leave, allow her mother to believe that she had succumbed to her wounds.

Taking only her spellbook and the few items she could carry, she left the cold comfort of her home.

[craven-cryptid]

Short story/spoilers for Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Dwarf Mourn Watcher/Harding

Isatunoll.

He told her it felt wrong. Bad. Another problem among a host of others, said that he would keep an eye on her. And he meant it, every word of it, but she couldn’t know the poison which fed them.

The hymn. The prayer. The proclamation.

Ward grew up surrounded by spirits, entombed in ancient magics and undead secrets. His admition into the Mourn Watch was forgone, barely a question, this was his home and duty by right of birth from the moment he was found tucked away in a coffin. A dwarf in the Grand Necropolis isn’t unheard of, but a dwarf raised in the Grand Necropolis would be considered more than odd, and perhaps a bit cruel.

I am. We are.

He remembers, always, the day he learned what being a dwarf meant. What it kept from him. What it still keeps from him. He remembers watching his peers come into their magic, praised and doted, watched his deepest desires and aspirations play out in a thousand ways for a thousand strangers. Magic would never be his to wield, and outside the Necropolis even the spirits turned their eyes from him.

The dagger drops (what was that darkspawn?)

Harding moves in front (she was protecting me.)

The earth shakes (ancestors, she’s falling!)

A Titan calls (the stone heeds her will.)

The dagger in his hands does not sing for him. He cannot even feel it’s enchantments, the magic which shapes it is blind to him.

“The Lighthouse looks different now,” Harding sits on the edge of the root bridge, a cup of tea held between both hands. Ward squats next to her, unwilling to let his legs dangle into the abyss that is the Fade, what he can see of it.

“Well,” he starts, “we’ve been fixing what we can, and I think it knows we’re getting more settled.”

“No, not that. Well, not just that.” She takes a sip and stares out into the nothing that surrounds them, her eyes light and bright. “The Fade itself looks different. Or, it was always like this and now I can see.”

Wards face must have betrayed some unease, so Harding quickly follows up, “I mean, it still feels weird being here, and it smells weird and nothing makes sense but…” her voice lowers to a ponderous hush, “Do you think the Titans also dreamt of the Fade? Does all magic start here, or are the Titans completely removed from it? Emmrich says my magic has a different source, that it doesn’t pull from the Fade, but they have to be connected somehow, right?”

Ward doesn’t answer right away, has to focus on his breath. In. Out. In. Out. Let the anger subside, let the rage fade, it isn’t her fault, it isn’t her fault.

The dagger drops (if I’d gotten here sooner.)

Harding moves in front (it should have been me.)

The earth shakes (ancestors, let her fall!)

A Titan calls (the stone is silent.)

“I think,” he says, as he reaches for her now empty cup, “that magic is just as weird as it’s ever been. As long as you’re being careful I’m not sure it matters much right now.” He smiles, and he can see in her face that it must look genuine because she smiles back, a bit of relief settling from her shoulders.

“Yea, you’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Ward tuts, knocking her gently on the shoulder as he stands and strides away with the cup. He makes it just inside the doors of the kitchen before the cup shatters in his grip, raining porcelain and blood onto the floor.

[coeluvr]

Part 2 of the au, please, prepare tissues:

The commotion of the maids and butlers arguing about the color of your gown wakes you from your restless sleep. (Helios was gone.) They never bother to ask for your opinion, yet no one protests when you choose a red dress with a silver hem.

"Hunter is waiting for you behind the castle doors," Soarine says as she takes your hands in hers. "Do not worry, MC, you'll find freedom. And please, don't ever forget about me when you soar across the sky."

Everything goes according to plan. The nearby walls crumble suddenly, and the mist obscures everyone's vision.

Hunter extends her arm, waiting for you to hold on so she can swiftly lead you to her uncle, while Lancelot will guide you to Vincent.

And soon, you'll be free.

...

...

...

You are nowhere to be found when Hunter searches for you. Your sudden disappearance forces her to rush to Helios and the others, including Luceris and the other nobles, to announce that you are gone.

Unbeknownst to the chaos, you ascend the highest tower in the castle. It stands empty, providing the perfect setting for your purpose.

You retrieve the necklace that embodies your essence and whisper a heartfelt enchantment into it—a promise meant for your beloved. It is an ancient magic, one that Fariya once taught you, allowing you to enchant anything with words meant solely for your loved one.

Enchanting those words, which you never thought you'd utter, you speak into the necklace's ethereal essence.

"Helios," you murmur, your voice heavy with pain.

Gazing up at the sky, you know that your freedom is imminent. Thoughts of your parents welcoming you into their loving embrace fill your mind, as well as the hope that your siblings will once again hold you dear.

Closing your eyes, you jump off the wall.

"I love you," you declare, surrender to gravity. I'm sorry.

The sound of Lancelot's anguished screams reaches your ears, and guilt grips your heart. You feel remorse for burdening him, for being such an ungrateful daughter. You yearn to share another meal with Qasim, Sadira, and the others, to once again feel accepted and loved in their presence. You long to roam the bustling market and encounter Soarine, to witness Vincent's different side.

You feel yourself being pulled into someone's arms, gently, softly, delicately, as if you are a fragile glass. But the glass has shattered, and your heart cannot be repaired anymore.

Though your vision fades, your eyes bleeding from the poison you've ingested daily for the past fortnight, you reach out with your bloody hands to touch his face. In this final moment, you want to remember him completely— remember the contours of his face, the touch of his bones. You want to imprint his presence forever in your memory.

You wipe away his tears, bloody hands still, unable to prevent yourself from asking him, even as your own breath escapes you, "I-if w-we... we meet again, in the next life...! P-promise me... that you will be the one... to find me first. Will... you?"

Helios says something, but his words are lost to you as you release your final breath. He beseeches you to rest, and so you do, closing your eyes as he cradles you.

You are no longer breathing. Instead, you find yourself in a meadow of golden fields. And... and...

Running toward your parents, your twin brother, and your siblings, you are once again within the sanctuary of your home. The flames have vanished, leaving only love and warmth.

"MC..." Helios chokes out, suffocated with grief, as his arms still holding you tightly amidst the chaos. Amidst it all, his focus remains solely on your smile.

I promise you, my love. I will come to you first in our next life.

So, wait for me. Wait for me until forever brings us together once again.

The end.

(Really hope I did the characters justice, but I'm bad at this stuff usually, so I'm prepared for any criticism)

This was really sad and I hope the anon who first sent me that scene is rejoicing right now 😭😭 Now someone write a modern day au where they are happy, thanks.

I know you wanted my feedback but I'm terrible at this (you will never catch me beta testing for people), I really did like it though! I do have to say you wrote Helios so gently 🥹 he's so soft and 💗💗💗 The part with MC reuniting with their family made me so sad, I know chapter 2 MC would want that above all else.

[misc-obeyme]

Oh. The chibi is huge….. ANYWAY!!! OC Info dump part 2!!!

Jazz!!! He’s giggling his signature giggle ((Kekeke)) which is the best I can get for a fox’s laugh.

So, Twisted Wonderland is basically “What if Disney Villains weren’t as bad as the films made them out to be? MC gets pulled into this magical Twisted Wonderland and has to deal with these powerful and talented yet dysfunctional boys while they search for a way to get back home” it’s a rhythm/RPG battle visual novel. It’s made by the same author as Black Butler, if you know that anime.

The outfit in the chibi is what Jazz wears as his ‘casual’ outfit in the Devildom. It also has a matching jacket and many pockets! He keeps his magic-pen, which is a fancy ballpoint pen that has an enchanted emerald on the clip and a stylus at the end, ((basically his magic focus)) in the breast pocket of the vest or the jacket depending on if he has the jacket or not. In Nightbringer he adds a pair of black and white gloves, which are like artist drawing gloves for screen drawing tablets. So pinky and ring finger and that half of the palm are black while the rest is white.

He LOVES to make clothes, so much that was what he chose to make a sustainable business out of as the requirement to get access to his family’s wealth. ((5 times great grandma started a brewery that has become world famous, Grandma Takara is also the reason he’s not human, more on that later)) Will absolutely make stuff for Asmo and Levi if they ask him. his favorite fabric to work with is canvas and so he’s really strong for his small size. He can pick up demon form!Diavolo if he wants. He also really wants to make the dress from that one sticker for Dia, as he thinks Dia would absolutely rock it. ((Don’t ask Jazz to wear that dress as the frills to non-frills ratio is too high for Jazz’s tastes))

Speaking of Diavolo: won’t act on his crushes because his brain is mean >:( thinks that this prince and future king can do better than a humble tailor. And thinks that he’d fuck up the friendship they have by trying to romance him. Also thinks that being romantically involved with a literal prince would be too much of a spotlight ((ignoring the fact that dating the brothers and Solomon already puts a huge spotlight on him….)) ((same reasoning why he would not act on his crush on Barbatos)) But he really admires Dia. It will take somebody noticing the wistful stares and sighs and forcing them talk ((person: hey, Jasper, Diavolo, come to this dinner with me. Oh wait, I actually have plans but I don’t want the reservation to go to waste, so have fun you two!! ☺️))

So, the ‘human enough’. Grandma Takara wasn’t human at all. She was a fox fae from Twisted Wonderland that found herself on Earth and couldn’t get back home. She was basically a kitsune from Japanese mythology. And at the start of Jazz’s adventures he was 98% human, 2% fox fae. Then during Twisted the human and fox fae flipped, so he’s now 98% fox fae, 2% human. Which is just enough human for pacts and Earth sorcery to work.

Because of the kitsune stuff: he’s allergic to tomatoes. If he has them, then he’s in the bathroom for the next hour. Is a shapeshifter, but prefers to keep the form he had to begin with ((except for the female bits, those got shifted away to being male ASAFP)) but will change for pranks or safety.

Loves pranks, lives by the ‘confuse, don’t abuse’ motto ((has used a vodka bottle for a water bottle, has use chocolate syrup bottle for a water bottle, eaten vanilla pudding out of a mayo jar etc.))

HATES being underwater without a viable source of air, be that potions, spells, scuba gear, or just straight up shapeshifting himself some gills. So when in the Aquarium Event they all swam to the source of the poison, he was internally going “I hate this. I hate this. I am so glad for magic.”

Ending on a positive note: is poly lingual. Can speak native Japanese, English, German and French. And can add to that with a bit of magic, just straight up copies what the person knows about the language. So, he copied Celestial from Beel.

OMG so much loooore!!

Okay I'm so into the fox fae situation a;sldkfjdf.

He's just a mischievous little guy with a big ole crush on a demon prince!! I would be their wingperson. Let me be the one who's like oh oops I planned plans on top of my plans have fun see ya!!! LOL that's so cute though. I get why he would feel that way.

I love that he's a tailor and makes stuff for Asmo and Levi too!

I too am allergic to tomatoes alsdklfjf no not really but the only food I don't like is raw tomatoes. I don't know why 😭

Anyway, I love him he sounds so cute~ Thank you for sharing him with me!!

[pencilofawesomeness]

Ft x TW: NRC boys' type of fairy tail magic

Ohohoho what a can of worms to open! I have considered the FT in TW au far more than the TW in FT au, but this changes now lol.

Obviously both sources are fairly soft with their magic, but it's true that FT specializes far more, either by choice or by affinity. Soooo time to spitball around a bit. (As I try really hard not to get too deep into backstories and make this more complicated than it has to be.)

Riddle: Some sort of nullification/wave magic—essentially like his signature spell. Riddle probably tries to be an all-around mage nonetheless, but it comes back around to nullification nonetheless.

Trey: Enchantment. He'll claim up and down that it's just minor tricks and little buffs, but this dude can probably rewrite a human being if he wants to. Though he would be fantastic support. Full mom mode, for sure.

Deuce: Full Counter. Yes I am aware this is not an explicit Fairy Tail magic. But I call him my Full Counter child way too often for me to get it out of my head.

Ace: How far he goes with it is up for debate, but card magic. It starts with some simple tricks, and then his Quick Learning kicks in and Ace can do a variety of things given he has access to the card for it.

Cater: Solid script magic. Maybe some other script magic too, though Cater would downplay how much he could do with it, but dude has a way with words alright.

Leona: He would be the type to know a variety of magic, enough to keep people guessing about his limits, but his main developed magic would be crush magic, much to the consternation of everyone. (Himself included sometimes.)

Ruggie: He could totally have something funky like Figure Eyes or some sort of straight forward puppeteer magic, but I think his overall magic would be speed. Ruggie go noom.

Jack: Transformation magic, so he can turn into a wolf and whatever other animal he desires. Not necessarily seith magic, but I do think he would focus on animals because he's just like that.

Azul: Dude would totally be a celestial spirit mage. It's all about collecting minions and getting them to do the heavy lifting, after all. That said he's definitely a Contract Guy so he would be fair about things. (And he would get heckled by the spirits sometimes too; a true give and take relationship right there.)

Jade: Telepathy magic that is definitely just used for good ol consensual communication. Yep. Not like Jade can eavesdrop on people's minds or anything. :)

Floyd: Reflector magic of some sort. Can't hit him because your magic goes wonky. Oh no, you gotta fist fight instead. What a nightmare. (For you.)

Kalim: I honestly can't decide if he'll be a water mage, because of his UM, or if he'll do something completely left-field, like dancer magic, because he is a fun guy and a good bean like that.

Jamil: He would certainly be a jack-of-all-trades type, but mostly an air/wind mage. Within that sphere, Jamil has a lot going on: healing magic, some purification, transportation, ripping the air out of your lungs, enhanced hearing, invisibility—all the useful stuff. He probably knows some charm magic on the side, too, but that's a surprise tool for later.

Vil: Poison magic because I think it would be hilarious. He's equally very proud of his very potent poison and also distressed because it's such a volatile magic and everyone looks at him *like that.* Vil would be great at making elixirs and antidotes too though.

Rook: If anyone would have some sort of take-over magic, it would be Rook. It's the ultimate appreciation of life if you ask him—as well as the ultimate hunt. He would probably deal mostly with beasts, but with just enough other types of transformations that it makes people wonder. How exactly Rook acquires these take-overs is up to the imagination.

Epel: Make-magic. I'm not 100% sure on the type—I think some sort of glass/crystal, maybe—but his amazing carving skills definitely strike me as good make-magic material. Plus he's a creative little fella that would definitely whack people with a comically large hammer given the chance.

Idia: He'd be the guy to naturally develop seith magic against his explicit will, but that's okay because he never really uses it. (Except, perhaps, for Ortho...) Idia would focus on magic tech and developing items, but if his extremely sentient constructs happen to house some souls because he's a bleeding heart after all, then nobody really has to know.

Ortho: Archive magic. Because it's the internet. Tbh I don't really get archive magic in the context of FT's world all that well, but nonetheless, I think Ortho would be able to do it. It's all about running analysis and being the bestest support. (That said, Ortho would probably be casually good at some sort of light/energy magic on the side; for the tactical nuke.) Provided Ortho is not, you know, a soul in a construct.

Malleus: He's gotta be a dragon slayer. Them's the facts. That said, I am somewhat undecided on the type. I lean towards lightning, because the lightning motif is pretty prevalent, but Malleus is also very fond of his fire breath. A green fire dragon slayer, perhaps? Or he would be something super Extra and Edgy, like "tempest dragon slayer" or something, that is mad OP and can do large scale atmospheric stuff and weather. Dude's a beast, after all.

Lilia: Something spatial focused—like teleporting or territory. Well, he would probably use it mostly for teleporting but he can actually do some super insane stuff if things get serious.

Silver: Like his dad, he's also a spatial mage, but for requip magic. Silver would totally play the Erza-card and focus on weapons and armor and such.

Sebek: He would have the type of sound magic that makes your eardrums burst, and Sebek would be sooo effective with it. Maybe he could be a speed type on the side too, as a treat.

Grim: My dude would be an Exceed that stubborns his way into learning fire magic, even if it's super basic.

[unlikelysaintdelele]

I wanna talk about my warden, so I'm gonna do that. Meet Adalia Amell.

Loyal to the Circle and her friends. Finds some piece of mind by following the Chantry, but wouldn't go so far as to call herself an Andrastian. She likes pretty dresses and reading books, from history to fiction. It's her only way to experience the outside world. She's rather studious and crafty, so she excelled in herbalism and poison-making. Her spell focus was in Elements (ice and electricity) and Spirit (death and telekinesis). But she was also restless, so she developed a silver tongue that allowed her to sneak around as she pleased and get her hands on whatever she desperately wanted in the moment. She completely lacks survival skills and has no real skill in fighting, only the theoretical sort. From all those books, of course. And she's kind. She loves doing things for other people. You could say her love language is acts of service.

She finds Cullen's crush on her endearing and likes pretending to be oblivious about it because of how he stutters. Is something wrong? Why are you so flushed, Cullen? Are you feeling sick? Here, let me check. However, she gets easily embarrassed if Jowan pokes fun at her about it. As a true child of the Circle, she never once attempts to pursue anything and simply leaves it as a small fancy. This overall leaves many under the impression that she has no feelings for Cullen and is barely aware of his affections got her. Her devastation to hearing what he said during their reunion, when the Circle was overtaken by demons, ran deep. She never loved him, but she always adored him. He would forever be her first Maybe.

When Jowan approaches her about destroying his Phylactery, she runs straight to the First Enchanter. She wants to help her best friend, but she simply cannot go against everything she knows as right. When she hears whispers of him practicing blood magic, she's naturally in denial. Doesn't believe up until he uses it to escape. When she reunites with him at Redcliffe, it's messy and hurt. He's apologetic but trust has been broken so she leaves him in the cell. After healing Arl Eamon, she has him sent back to the Circle. He is a Circle mage and he will be dealt with as such.

She was awestruck by Duncan pretty much the moment she met him. A Grey Warden! When she was chosen by him, she was excited and nervous but oh so eager to get out of the Circle because she would finally see the outside world. She was also annoyed because Greagoir wasn't listening to anything she or the First Enchanter were saying. She wouldn't dare betray the Circle. So it was either leave and see the world or stay and face unjust punishment. That's not the kindest situation to being pushed out of your own home. He low-key became a bit of a father figure. The First Enchanter was more like a Grandpa.

She's wary of Alistair when they first meet because of his Templar background but quickly warms up to him because of his humor. Jokes are good. She also likes the other recruits, even flirts with one of them, but doesn't bother to get to know anyone in detail because she assumes there will be time for that later... which was false. She definitely felt fear during the joining. Blinding, sickening fear. She did not want to die after barely stepping outside of the Circle. It was her desire to experience the world that overpowered her fear of death. She did not want to die, so she simply refused to accept that as an option. So she drank. And she survived.

She loves Morrigan. She finds her bitchy practicality amusing, and her bizarre childhood sad but also... kinda cool? What do you mean you shapeshifted to swipe a pretty mirror? Can you show me how to do that? She also finds her style fascinating as it's so different from the conservative Circle robes. It's almost definitely a one-sided friendship in the beginning, but the small twinge of sadness when they speak before going after the Archdemon... it's enough for Adalia to never hate her. She would never search for Morrigan after that.

Leliana is a completely different story. It's like she stumbled upon a long lost best friend she never knew she had. They bonded so quickly no one would've known they had just met a week ago. Adalia loved to hear the stories of Leliana's travels, and they would even gossip about Adalia's trysts with...

Alistair! How he wormed his way into her heart. They relied on each other when they were left to fight off the demons in the tower in Ostagar. It only deepened when they became the only Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, the only ones left who could understand what the other was going through. The nightmares. The being hunted down. Loghain's betrayal that resulted in Duncan's death. They found comfort in each other. Comfort that became clumsy flirting (from Alistair) and amused teasing (from Adalia) to frantic kisses stolen in the night that became complete trust and what little happiness they could find during the Blight. She comforted him after Goldana because he was kind and deserved to know his kindess was not a waste.

She supported Anora's bid for the throne because Alistair didn't want to be King and she never quite understood the need for maintaining bloodline within nobility. She was a Circle mage, where the children of nobility were stripped of their title and all birthrights the moment they walked in. To her, blood wasn't what mattered but rather capability and willingness. She had no doubt that Alistair would eventually grow into his role of he became King, but she didn't think it right to force him into a role he didn't even want. That was until Morrigan's ritual. For the first time, she would break away from everything that she had been taught. Not because she wasn't ready to sacrifice her life for all of Ferelden. But because she knew Alistair would follow her anywhere and would die protecting her. He would sacrifice himself so she could live. Not wanting to imagine a life without him, she selfishly clung to their love. Because of their trust in each other, Alistair reluctantly went through with the ritual.

Back to her friends! She found it rather upsetting that Sten didn't seem to like her. She found him hard to understand at first. She kept giving him paintings and prodding him about why he was caged. They eventually formed a deep respect for each other and their differences. Adalia finding him his sword definitely helped a bit. She also liked hearing his stories about the Qunari.

Zevran! Hmm.. annoying but funny. She thought it was hilarious how eager he was to switch sides if it meant he lived. She also loved hearing his wild stories as a Crow, especially with his Antivan accent. Her party thought she was foolish for trusting him, but Zevran was her most loyal friend at the end of the day. It probably helped that they shared the same sense of dry humor.

Oghren.. was too stupid and bizarre to hate. There was also some respect because, though he was a horn dog who would wander out of the marriage bed, he had a loyal heart. They weren't the closest, but they were friendly and would often chat at camp.

Wynne! Lovely Wynne! She became a grandma figure to Adalia. She took Wynne's advice to heart, even when she disagreed. She was particularly hurt by Wynne's first opinion about her relationship with Alistair. She knew there was some truth to Wynne's words, but she also thought Wynne was wrong about this. Of all things, what she had with Alistair was not wrong, was not bad. She also adores Wynne's naughtier side. Like how she would tease Alistair.

Some last details! She could not be bribed into evil acts and always sought compromise when she could. The Dalish lived and the werewolf curse was broken. She shut down the slave trade and saved the elder. She persuaded the demon in Connor to leave forever. She named her Mabari Firulais, making it ironic when someone would claim the dog was full of fleas. She was an Arcane Warrior and Shapeshifter. and she ran off into the sunset with the love of her life (and zevran, because he wanted to come along).

[endofherwildsideau]

🐊•|Kêłłêñ|•🐊

His Voice by Prince Naveen

| Animal Mode | Bioluminescent | Royal | Arrival | Old-Self | His Weapons | Voodoo Priest |

Deadname: Kelan Olson

Name: King Kellen the Marsh Alpha

Name Meaning: swamp; Slender Or Slim. Descendant Of The Brightheaded One. Swampy Area.

Nicknames: kell, key, and kelli.

Birthday: July 23

Cause of Death: Alligator attacks

Age: 180 (die in the age of 15)

Species: American alligator

Race: Mexican 🇲🇽 & African-American.

Gender: Male ♂

Relationship status: Single

Sexuality: Bisexual

Home World: Earth (Formley) Miracle Region (Currently)

Kingdom: Hidden Marsh; Orleans City, Great Foggale, Black River, and Nyssa town.

Role or Job: Alligator Alpha. God of Swamp/Marsh & Voodoo. Holder of Crown Jewel pieces. Master of taming the Swamp/Marsh animals. Ruler of Hidden Marsh; Orleans City, Great Foggale, Black River, Nyssa town & Marsh Alphas. Voodooist. Fortune Teller. Voodoo priest.

Facts: his eye color changes based on expression or emotion; Cardinal Red: Aggressive, alert, dominant, and disagreeable. Sweet Orange: proud, cautious, strange, distrustful, and untrusting. Yellow Iris: playful, challenging, hopeful, and logical. Swamp Green: neutral or Calm, and disgusted. Iris Blue: sad, honest, Trusting, accepting friendly, noticeable, and close ally. Plum: focus, studying, creative, and wise. Thunder Gray: Confused and surprised. Pink Lady: embarrassed, sweet, in love, kindness, and kind.

Companion Pet:

Yara the Lily-Pad Otter

Spirit Animals:

Shadow animal-spirits

Parents:

Unnamed parents

Abilities:

Alpha Physiology

Human Physiology

Hybrid Physiology

Reptilian Physiology

Ally Empowerment

Animal Companionship

Animal Creation - only on Swamp/Marsh animals.

Animal Training Mastery - only on Swamp/Marsh animals.

Animalistic Vocalization

Aquatic Breathing

Avian Companionship

Bioluminescence

Cane Proficiency

Claw Retraction

Companion Allegiance

Contaminant Immunity

Creature Studies Mastery - only on Swamp/Marsh animals

Decelerated Aging

Dermal Armor

Enchantment

Enhanced Durability

Enhanced Lung Capacity

Enhanced Senses

Enhanced Smell

Enhanced Strength

Eye Color Shifting - based on emotion or expressions.

Glowing Eyes - only when the power is active or glows in the dark.

Hair Growth

Hat Proficiency

Hibernation

Infinite Digestive System

Mediumship

Mind Control - to control other Marsh alphas

Mind Link - to control other Marsh alphas

Mode Switching - Companion Form & Animal Mode

Night Vision

Omnilingualism

Pointed Ears

Poison Immunity

Powerful Bite

Prehensile Tail

Regeneration Healer Factor

Scale Manifestation

Smoke Bomb Proficiency

Speed Swimming

Tail Manifestation

Taming - only on Swamp/Marsh animals

Unique Eye Coloration

Unique Hair Coloration

Vertical Pupils

Wallrunning

Weapon Summoning

Zoolingualism

Zoological Mastery

Powers:

Abjuration

Blessing Inducement

Card Magic

Cartomancy

Curse Inducement

Dimensional Storage

Environmental Field Projection

Magic Hat

Magic Object

Magical Telekinesis - via with crane

Precognition - by using the cards.

Retrocognition - by using the cards.

Self-Sustenance

Sleight of Hand Mastery

Syncognition

Trick Hats

Voodoo

Voodoo Combat

Voodoo Doll Creation

Wetland Adaptation

Wetland Creation

Wetland Magic

Wetland Manipulation

[inkedlibrary]

Flowerheart

by Catherine Bakewell. The book belongs to the fantasy genre. It was published for the first time on March 14th 2023. Published by HarperCollins. I started reading it from Jan 27th to 28th 2024, in an E-book format, with 352 pages. Age group: Young Adult.

Trigger and Content Warning

Parental neglect. Emotional abuse. Anxiety. Low self-worth. Magical injury. Violence. Blood. Death. Guilt. Manipulation. Themes of healing and self-acceptance.

Premise of the Book

Clara’s magic has always been wild. But it’s never been dangerous. Then a simple touch causes poisonous flowers to bloom in her father’s chest. The only way to heal him is to cast an extremely difficult spell that requires perfect control. And the only person willing to help is her former best friend, Xavier, who’s grown from a sweet, shy child into someone distant and mysterious. Xavier asks a terrible price in return, knowing Clara will give anything to save her father. As she struggles to reconcile the new Xavier with the boy she once loved, she discovers how many secrets he’s hiding. And as she hunts for the truth, she instead finds the root of a terrible darkness that’s taken hold in the queendom—a darkness only Clara’s magic is powerful enough to stop.

People Suited for This Book

Readers who enjoy cozy, whimsical fantasy with a touch of darkness

Fans of magical coming-of-age stories with themes of healing and self-acceptance

Those who appreciate gentle romance and strong friendships in fantasy settings

Readers who enjoy lush, lyrical writing with a fairytale-like atmosphere

Fans of character-driven stories exploring emotional growth and resilience

Feelings While Reading

Flowerheart are a mix of enchantment and slight disappointment. The stunning cover and Clara's magical abilities create a sense of wonder, while the deep bond between Clara and her father tugs at the heartstrings. However, the story was somewhat predictable and the characters lacked depth. Overall, it was an okay read with moments of enchantment but also room for improvement.

Book Review

Let's start by discussing what I found intriguing about Flowerheart by Catherine Bakewell. First off, the cover design is absolutely stunning and breathtaking. I had high hopes that a cover this enchanting would be accompanied by an equally enchanting story, but my expectations were slightly off (well, just a little). Now, let's dive into the main female character, Clara Lucas, and her mesmerizing magic. Every time she expresses her emotions or encounters something, her magic conjures up beautiful flowers around her or even within her, reflecting her innermost feelings. Moving on to the family dynamics, particularly the bond between Clara and her father. The immense love Clara has for her dad really struck a chord with me (I may have shed a tear or two in that part) (daddy issues hit me hard ㅋㅋㅋ). However, apart from that, I didn't find much complexity to fill the void. Admittedly, the overall story was somewhat predictable (unconsciously), and the conflicts presented by the author lacked a certain level of intricacy. I believe there were quite a few plot holes that could have been filled with more detailed storytelling or expanded storylines. Additionally, I was hoping for some unexpected plot twists considering the conflicts at play, but unfortunately, they didn't materialize. Another aspect I felt disappointed about was the lack of further development in Clara's relationship with her mother or Xavier's father. Now, let's shift our focus to Xavier, the male lead character. To be honest, his character felt somewhat hollow, I mean, he didn't quite measure up to the depth and complexity of the female lead. Unlike Clara, who was well-rounded and fully developed, well, she's not your typical “wow” character. What sets her apart is that the author delves into her darker side as well, which creates a nice contrast with her fearless and self-assured nature. It adds depth to her character and makes her even more compelling. However, Xavier's character fell short in terms of depth. Nevertheless, Clara carried half of the story on her shoulders. All in all, I would say this book was just okay for me.

Rating

[3.7][★★★☆☆] Cover Design

[3.8][★★★☆☆] Story and Plot

[3.5][★★★☆☆] Characters

[3.8][★★★☆☆] Overall Rating