#the tethered mage

[missbronto]

Crow Lord or something, idk

[nicholaes]

the tethered mage series is so good I feel like it should be more popular

[mruschdraws]

Coffee & Book Recommendations

It's not June, but it's always time for pride, and cozy books. Thought I'd share some favorites over the years.

"Legends and Lattes" -- A cozy cup of literary coffee. A retired adventurer Orc decides to open up her very own coffee shop! Slice of life, high fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy prose.

"The Prince and the Dressmaker" -- Historical fiction following a Prince and his dressmaker. Explores themes of identity, fashion, self-expression and relationships. Standalone graphic novel.

"Our Dreams at Dusk" -- A young man grapples with his feelings, and finds other members of the LGBT community in his town. Lesbian and Ace rep. Four volume manga series by the creator of Nabari No Ou.

"The Priory of the Orange Tree" -- High fantasy, Epic. Wyrms and Dragons oh my! If you'd like a longer fantasy read with tons of dragons along the vibes of Game of Thrones narratives across the continents, this could be a fit.

"The Tethered Mage" (trilogy) -- Alchemy meets elemental-wielding Warlocks. Female frendships. Bi rep. All set in a fantastical Venice-like setting with political intrigue.

"The Mighty Nein Origins: Yasha Nydoorin" -- TTRPG Fantasy, collection comic. A female warrior from the harsh badlands of Xhorhas finds love among harsher trials. Gorgeous artwork, short read.

[desperatecheesecubes]

Was just STRUCK with the memory of the Swords and Fire trilogy by Melissa Caruso and now have an overwhelming desire to reread it

[raayllum]

But how do I take a stand?

[asleepinawell]

twitter is full of art of scholars eating carbuncles now (dissipation) and everyone should go appreciate that

like this one

[heliosunny]

GRGRGRGR I LOVE YOUR YAN! ANAXA FIC SO MUCHH!!!!! i can feel his desperation through the screen bcs of your writing style!!

but i'm curious. what would happen if we were too late to undo the binding curse? i'm mainly interested in how it would affect anaxa's behavior. would he become a lot more shameless towards reader? concerninly more devoted to reader? or something.

anyway have a great day! love all of your fics!

Ty for sending me your rq. At first, I thought of Anaxa easily surpassing his master but then it'll be no fun. Turns out the final version impressed many of you so I think: okay, this should have an au.

Yandere!Anaxa x Mage!Reader

Artist: gumi_min08 on X

Visit [Previous]

It finally succeeded. He felt it, so did you. The way his magic wove into yours, not forcefully, but willingly. Anaxa watched you with reverence, eyes filled with something far deeper than mere obsession.

“You trained me” he murmured, brushing gloved fingers over your sleeve, his touch featherlight, almost hesitant. “You shaped me into what I am.”

His fingers curled, as if he wanted to grip you, hold you close, but he didn’t dare. “My magic is yours now. My strength, my will, all of it belongs to you.”

His lips curled slightly, his next words dripping with dark devotion.

“You could break me if you wanted to.”

Your fingers twitched, magic crackling between your palms. And he shuddered. Not in pain, but in rapture.

Your breath stayed even, your control unshaken. “You think binding yourself to me will make me yours?”

Anaxa exhaled sharply.

“No.” His eyes gleamed under the dim torchlight, his voice dropping lower, almost desperate. “But it makes me yours.”

Your magic flared in response. You could feel him. His pulse, his emotions, the way his body ached for your command. You had the power here.

You tilted your chin up, gazing at him with unreadable calm. “You’ve made a mistake, Anaxa.”

His breath hitched, but his smirk remained, a twisted sort of satisfaction flickering in his gaze. “Have I?”

You stepped forward. Your fingers barely brushed against his chest, magic sparking from the touch, his magic trembling in response to yours. His muscles tensed, his entire body waiting.

“Then command me” he murmured, voice raw, filled with something dangerous. “Make me regret it.”

The challenge hung between you, thick and heavy.

You smiled.

A bold challenge. A reckless dare. And oh, how he meant it.

Anaxa didn’t blink as your magic surged, testing the connection between you. You could feel it, his pulse, his hunger, his unwavering devotion. His magic intertwined with yours, raw and unfamiliar, a force you weren’t used to wielding.

It wasn’t submission. It was offering. A dangerous gift, and he knew exactly what he had given you.

You could break him.

You could undo him.

And he would thank you for it.

“Follow me.”

Anaxa inhaled sharply, as if the words alone had power over him. His entire body tensed, not in hesitation, but in satisfaction. He lived for this.

The royal summons arrived sooner than expected.

A minor disturbance near the border, nothing that required the kingdom’s full force, but enough to demand your attention.

It was a test. The king wanted to see how you handled matters now that you had bound Anaxa to you. Anaxa, to his credit, remained composed during the meeting, standing slightly behind you, his presence looming. You were given the task. It wasn’t difficult, but the moment you stepped outside the castle, you felt it.

His magic, tethered to yours.

A second presence in your veins, pulsing with raw, dangerous energy.

It was unnatural. Unfamiliar. Not yours.

And yet… It listened.

It shifted at your will, reacting to your command, awkward at first, but soon it settled. You were adapting to it so quick.

And Anaxa? He noticed.

The mission had been simple. You completed it with ease, your control over Anaxa’s magic growing more refined, more effortless. He watched you the entire time.

And now, back in the tower, his composure had begun to slip.

“You’re getting used to it” he murmured as he leaned against your desk, his eyes half-lidded, watching the way your fingers traced the edges of a spellbook.

You didn’t look up. “Of course I am.”

A low hum. “How does it feel?”

You turned a page idly, not missing the way he inched closer.

“Like something I could destroy you with.”

Anaxa exhaled. He stepped behind you, gloved fingers brushing over your wrist. His touch was deliberate, slow. Affectionate.

“Then do it” he murmured, voice dangerously soft.

You didn’t pull away. You could feel his warmth, his obsession, the way his magic curled around yours, binding, craving.

It would be so easy to push him away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you turned slightly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. Anaxa’s breath hitched. Because you were looking at him differently now.

Not with disgust.

Not with hatred.

But with power.

And he had never loved you more.

You could feel it growing inside you.

Anaxa’s power was never simply magic, but something ancient, raw, instinctual. His people had once been warriors, feared across the lands for their overwhelming might. Magic was in their blood, in their bones. They were not mere spellcasters, they were forces of nature, walking calamities.

And now, their magic pulsed in your veins.

Even as you wielded it with more ease, even as your spells became sharper, more devastating, you refused to keep it.

This power was never meant to be yours.

Anaxa would never willingly let go. You knew that. So you did not ask.

You simply brewed the potion, hidden among the vials of restoratives and calming tonics he trusted you to make.

He drank it without suspicion, sitting at your desk, fingers idly tracing the fabric of your sleeve as he watched you read.

“You keep getting stronger” he murmured, as if in awe.

You hummed in response, letting him thread his fingers with yours. Letting him enjoy this moment.

He didn’t notice the way his eyelids grew heavy.

Didn’t realize what you had done until his grip on your hand weakened, his breathing slowing.

“…Master?”

You stood as his body slumped forward, catching him before he collapsed entirely.

His eyes, those burning, devoted eyes—looked up at you, hazy with betrayal. And yet, even as unconsciousness pulled him under, his fingers twitched, reaching for you. You didn’t let him.

You laid him down gently, brushing a stray lock of silver from his face.

“Rest, Anaxa.”

And then, you left.

The Magic Fall—a place where magic pooled in its purest form, untouched by mortal hands.

Few dared to go there.

You had no choice.

Your steps were swift, your mind sharp. The moment you arrived, the energy of the fall pulsed around you, responding to your presence. It knew you. And it knew the power that did not belong.

You knelt before the shimmering pool, closing your eyes, reaching inward, searching for the foreign magic buried inside you.

It fought back. It had settled too deeply, woven into your very being, not just a borrowed force but a claimed one.

And in that moment, you realized something.

This wasn’t a mere binding. Anaxa had given himself to you completely. There was no longer a clear line between your magic and his. If you wanted to remove it, you would have to break something fundamental within yourself.

And as you hesitated, just for a fraction of a second—

A hand gripped your wrist.

Your breath stilled.

You turned your head, slowly.

He was there.

Awake.

Watching you.

Those eyes no longer hazy, no longer vulnerable—but sharp. Unyielding.

He should still be unconscious. The potion should have lasted hours.

Anaxa’s grip tightened, but not painfully.

“You tried to leave me behind.”

His voice was steady, low. Unforgiving.

You did not answer. Because you knew what you had done. The words hung between you, thick with quiet anger, quiet devotion.

Anaxa’s grip on your wrist was firm. His magic pulsed against yours, reacting to your emotions, your hesitation.

You kept your face neutral. Unshaken.

“Let go, Anaxa.”

His fingers only tightened, slow and deliberate, but not forceful. Not yet. “No.” His voice was steady, unwavering.

You exhaled slowly, glancing at the shimmering magic pool beneath you. “I won’t ask again.”

A slow smirk curled on his lips, but his eyes were anything but amused.“Then don’t.”

He pulled. And before you could react, before you could stop him, he stepped into the pool with you. Magic surged around you both, light swallowing the world whole. The magic fall was alive. It wrapped around your bodies, seeking, searching, demanding answers. Your body trembled as the magic within you pulsed violently, tangled in Anaxa’s essence, reacting as if it had always belonged.

No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You had come here to remove him.

Instead, the pool was accepting him. Accepting you together.

Anaxa’s fingers laced through yours, his magic intertwining too naturally.

You snapped your head toward him. “What did you do?”

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something deep, all-consuming.

“I belong to you.” His voice was soft, reverent, worshipful.

The spell was not something you could simply undo. Not something to sever without consequence. It was no longer just a spell. It had become a foundation. A part of you and him. The magic fall itself recognized it. The water around you pulsed, ripples of golden energy reacting to the bond, not rejecting it, but strengthening it.

Your stomach turned cold.

This place....this pure, ancient magic...should have erased him from you. Instead, it was solidifying him in you. There would be no breaking this. Not without breaking yourself.

Anaxa had known all along. That was why he hadn’t fought the potion. Why he hadn’t tried to stop you before. Because he knew you would fail.

His other hand rose slowly, fingertips brushing your cheek.

You should have slapped him away.

Should have burned him with your magic.

Should have done something.

Instead, you stared at him- trapped in the realization that this man had given himself to you in a way that could never be undone.

Anaxa’s smirk softened into something too tender, too dangerous.

“You can’t get rid of me, Master.”

His lips brushed against your knuckles, breath warm against your skin.

“And even if you could…”

His fingers curled against yours. “You wouldn’t.”

You couldn’t deny it. That part of him that got woven to you affected you greatly. Your life is now his too. But will he get the upper hand? You shall let time decides.

[housederiva]

so now that veilguard is out and digested, what would you say the best place for a complete newcomer to get into dragon age is? does origins still hold up as a fun opening game fifteen years later?

Dear listener my advice is to play Veilguard before the first 3 installments. I genuinely believe that it would be enjoyed more if you don't know what has been lost/what has been taken from you cut beforehand. The only thing from the first 3 installments that matter in Veilguard is one possible choice your Inquisitor makes, romancing Solas (If you don't have a previous inquisitor I highly recommend making her a Lavellan who was/is in love with him in Veilguard's cc, they have a beautiful story)

While Veilguard is a good RPG, it is not a good Dragon Age game. If you know what shoulders it's standing on, the luster will wear off very quickly. I love it for what it is and I will mourn it for what it is not - and that's okay in a sad, almost bitter way. Inquisition was game of the year for a reason and subsequently Veilguard wasn't mentioned at all for another

On the flip side though (and please keep in mind I'm saying this as someone who played origins in 2009) Origins, Awakening, 2, Inquisition, and most of their DLC's are a branching, beautiful story that will leave a permanent mark on your heart And you can choose what those marks are because your actions in origins ripple out into Inquisition (some more so than others). It will echo out through any other media you love in the future and depending on how old you are it will rewire bits of your brain because let me tell you playing Inquisition at 15 did something to me. Yes, the combat mechanics aren't the greatest in Origins and 2 is a little annoying to play on PC but their stories are wonderful...

What is it like to be thrust into a position of importance and did it stem from choice or survival? Is conscription liberating or a chain of resentment? What is it like to lose your home only to slowly build another that you love and cherish just to watch it crumble away? To know that no matter what you do, it was for nothing? What does it mean when you are suddenly a beacon of hope for a people that possibly are not even your own? What does it feel like to be held in such a regard that you are seen as the voice of a god and no longer a person? Are you afraid that your name will be erased - your culture will be erased, and you will just remain your title just like the one that came before you?

If you have no prior experience with Dragon Age play Veilguard first. That way you won't be upset about what has happened to [redacted's] character or the fact that tranquility is never mentioned and several other things that I don't need to go into here. But without playing the others first, you won't understand the severity of the Blight, your tether Varric won't be as strong, the injustice done to the elves and dalish will go unnoticed. You won't know what it means to be a mage in southern Thedas. You won't know what it means to be castless or saarebas, you won't know what vallaslin is.

If Veilguard is the first experience you have with Dragon Age then you won't know the teeth the series used to have, you'll only have what they're passing off as a growl and you'll be satisfied with that

Also yes, origin still does hold up 15 years later. It of course has the standard graphics of its time and the battle mechanics are a little clunky. But the story will wrap itself inside your mind and you will never be able to get it out

[vigilskeep]

do you actually have a ranking or like. rundown of each love interest's particular brand of insanity re: tranquil beloved...? or if that's too big an ask perhaps the highlights.. i am sitting so attentively reading all of the ones you've detailed thus far

in no particular order

zevran: cruel to the end to ask him to have his love’s blood on his hands again, but if he believed it was what they would have wanted, it would be the gentlest, tenderest, of assassinations

morrigan: what power does a templar possess that is beyond her ability to reverse? she will claw the answer from the far corners of the earth and the furthest reaches of the fade before she abandons what is hers

leliana: once, the chantry sunburst was a comfort, a sign of refuge in a world of darkness. now she can only see the one burned into their skin, the wondrous gifts the maker gave to them stolen in the maker’s name, the cruellest game he has played yet. could she keep her faith through such a test? would she even want to?

alistair: there is a hollow in his life that can’t be laughed around. a sick weight in the stomach, remembering flipping his runic token between his fingers in distraction through every chantry lecture where they promised this was necessary. he’s angry. he’s beginning to think he might be a very angry person, really. he’s beginning to think he’s got good reason

fenris: he wonders if, when the lyrium was touched to their forehead, it burned the way his does. he thinks better of asking. there was a time when magic felt like a curse on them both that he couldn’t break. he wants it back

anders: history always repeats itself. there are certain inevitabilities, foregone conclusions, lessons the circle teaches well. you escape, you get caught. you love something, they take it away. you destroy the last thread tethering a mage to humanity—you’re that brutal, that cruel, that stupid—and all you’ll have left is an abomination

merrill: she never understood tranquillity until it was this close; she could never really believe it was possible. it doesn’t matter. her love’s not quite here right now, even as she chatters away to them, but it doesn’t matter. you can fix anything, as long as you’re willing to pay the price

isabela: it’s her own fault, really. her own fault, for taking a chance on someone so targeted, so foolish, so—brave. her own fault for believing them, when they promised she wasn’t going to lose them. she should leave. there’s nothing left for her here. but it’s gotten so hard to run away

sebastian: this changes nothing. his love is as cold as the portraits that line the halls of the palace in starkhaven, as silent and empty as the chantry statues that offer no guidance for what will come. he still kisses their cheek, takes their hand, walks at their side. he is still a husband; he still has his vows, and one more to add to the rest—to find who blackened the maker’s name with this, and teach them what His judgement truly looks like

[inamindfarfaraway]

In the first episode of Season Six, “Startouched”, a white-haired girl in her late teens has emerged from a body of water onto a beach lit by the sun, and seen her not-actually-dead father who she lost two years ago restored to complete life with a dark magic spell that demands blood be spilled. She’s distraught after the intense trauma of killing another member of her family. Her father made peace with passing on, but she selfishly couldn’t bear losing him and acted to keep his spirit tethered to the mortal world, hurting him in the process. She stands, then falls. Someone she loves dearly, the male former high mage of Katolis with brown hair who has repeatedly used dark magic but solemnly sworn off it, embraces her and she returns it. But then he abandons her. She is unbalanced, despairing, directionless and lost.

In the last episode of Season Six, “Stardust”, a white-haired girl in her late teens has emerged from a body of water onto a beach lit by the moon, and is about to see her not-actually-dead father who she lost two years ago restored to complete life with a primal magic spell that demands blood be spilled. She’s relieved after the intense catharsis of enabling other members of her family to die. They made peace with passing on, and she selflessly accepted losing both of them and acted to heal and free their tethered spirits. She falls, then stands. Someone she loves dearly, the male high mage of Katolis with brown hair who has repeatedly used dark magic but solemnly sworn off it, embraces her and she returns it. He will never abandon her. She is mature, hopeful, purposeful and found.

[mysteryshoptls]

Grim Character Profile

Grade/Class: First Year (Class A, Seat 9)

Birthday: ???

Age: ???

Height: Approximately 70 cm

Dominant Hand: Front legs 

Homeland: ???

Club: Gastronomy Club

Best Subject: Animal Linguistics

Hobbies: Eating

Pet Peeves: Taking notes

Favorite Food: Canned tuna

Least Favorite Food: Nothing

Talent: Escaping from tethers

A monster that aspires to be a great mage. He and the main character have been allowed to enroll in the academy together as one student, and live with each other in Ramshackle Dormitory. He loves to eat whatever he can and he's easily carried away, which tends to get the main character wrapped up in his shenanigans.

Requested by Anonymous.

[nicholaes]

melissa caruso may be my new favourite author

not that i really had one before but i read her first trilogy last month and im reading her second one set in the same world (currently on the second book) and theyre just so damn good. the characters are amazing and i love the world shes created, the way magic works is so interesting im constantly thinking i love this its got everything its perfect and then some new element gets introduced that makes it even better ???

anyway this is a propaganda post for the swords and fire and rooks and ruin trilogy by melissa caruso go read the tethered mage and the obsidian tower

[laurenwalshart]

Druids, Shamans, Monks, and Naturalists: The Distinction of Nature Magic Users in Warcraft

As a Druid roleplayer I run into this question a lot “why can’t my mage be a druid?” “Why can’t x be a druid?” To be honest I get it. The distinction between nature magic users in the universe of Warcraft (Naturalists/Green Mages, Shamans, Monks, and Druids) can be extremely confusing especially when they also have a lot of overlap and no clear canon guides like most TTRPGs do. It can feel like you are getting a “No” with a confusing explanation behind it. As you dive into each of these versions of Nature magic users there is a clear distinction between them. Once broken down it comes down to two things 1)How you get your power and 2) what goal your character has/what goal they serve.

Shamans The main goal of Shamans is to bring harmony to the elements and to serve as spiritual leaders in their communities. This is done through the use of totems and the elements of Spirit or Decay to commune with the Elements or bind them to servitude and access the Elemental Plane. It’s likely through this bond with Spirit that they are able to transform into a ghost wolf and access other planes of existence to commune with their ancestors.

Their distinct traits are the following:  Goal: Creating harmony or disharmony with the Elements and Spirits Source of Power: Using totems or Spirit/Decay to commune with or bind the Elements and tap into the Elemental Planes, or commune with the spirits of the land or their ancestors.

Monks Monks are the masters of Chi or their inner Spirit and the self, making their journey a very personal one outside the bounds of say protecting Pandaria. Receiving boons from the August Celestials, which are Wild Gods and bound to the Dream, may give them some access to the flowing spirit of the Emerald Dream and lead to the appearance of their magic being a Jade/Emerald color. There is some evidence to support that the Dream is “near’ in Pandaria based on the Faerie Dragon Sprites in the Jade Forest which are a clear sign of the Dream being “near” and the rare encounter Nuoberon in the 10.2 Dream patch where a Pandaren child dreams up wild things into existence in the Dream.

Their distinct traits are the following:  Goal: Creating harmony and balance with your inner spirit and mastering the self. Source of Power: Chi, the mastery of the self and inner spirit, the August Celestials/Wild Gods/Loa, and possibly the Emerald Dream (see Jade Forest).

Naturalists/Nature Magic Users Some of our best examples of Naturalists come from the Valewalkers, Naturalists in Suramar, the High Botanist Tel’arn, and Shen’dralar Milicent Serene and her Naturalist experiments. From the High Botantist Tel’arn we learn that his power is achieved through the use of Arcane, Light, and Nature which also lines up with what we’ve learned in Palawltar’s Codex of Dimensional Structure that magics anchored to one or more magic types makes them more stable. Everything done by Naturalists seems to be through standard mage/arcane means through their more Orderly understanding of magic.

Their distinct traits are the following:  Goal: Entirely up to the user. In some cases it is mastery of the art, seeking knowledge, or experimentation. Source of Power: Everything is through Knowledge of Order magic/Arcane and tethering one or more magic types like Light and Arcane.

Druids These shapeshifters are caretakers of the wilds. They have strong bonds with the Wild Gods/Loa, Nature, and the Dream. All of the cultures that practice Druidism are bound to the Wild Gods in some way through worship or curses. One of their main tenets is to maintain the balance, a delicate equilibrium of the cycle of life and death. All of the current races that can play as them have extremely close ties with the Earth, the Dream, or the Wild Gods/Loa. Even the Drust, which at first seems to be an outlier, are connected to the Dream and Thros, the Blighted Lands. Much like how the afflicted of Gilneas were able to learn how to become Druids because of their previous knowledge of “the Old Ways” after essentially being bound to the Wild God, Goldrinn, and there by the Dream via the Worgen curse, so too are the Kul Tiran Thornspeakers through their same Gilnean understanding of the Old Ways and their bloodline connection to the Drust and Thros. Their distinct traits are the following: Goal: Maintaining the balance of nature and the cycle of life. Source of Power: Connections to the Wild Gods/Loa, the Emerald Dream, and the Spirit of the land (see previous posts on Spirit magic in nature).

Overlap and Distinctions As we can see many of these classes have some overlap in a few areas. 

Connections to the Dream and Wild Gods Both Monks and Druids have varying degrees of connections to Wild Gods and the Dream. While a Monk is not as directly tied to the Wild Gods and the Dream like Druids, they are present forces in one way or another in Pandaria. The distinction between these two classes then is in how they access their power and their goals.

A Monk while possibly influenced by or receiving boons from an August Celestial (Wild God/Loa) and the Dream does not directly gain their power from them like a Druid, rather it is from the harmony and balance of their own spirit. Another example of this is the Zandalari; their racial allows for boons/buffs from the Loa, but this does not make all of them Druids. The goals of Monks reflect this as they appear to be personal ones or aiding the personal goals of their people or others. In contrast the goals of Druids is specifically in maintaining the balance of nature and the cycle of life. 

Shapeshifting Ability Both Shaman and Druids have some sort of shapeshifting ability in game, however, one is incorporeal and the other physical. The Shaman ability then might be a transformation of their body into pure Spirit as is not bound to any specific Wild God, more of a manifestation of one’s spirit like with Wild Shape in Ardenweald. Whereas Druids after being bound to a specific Wild God/Loa are able to take on the physical form of spirit they are bound to or hold a totem or relic of. 

Use of Arcane and Light Druids and Mages both use forms of Nature, Arcane, and Light magic. As discussed before, Mages approach to Nature magic is through the lens of Order magic and the Arcane. Druids still use the Arcane in some Balance spec spells, but it is distinctly named “Astral magic” which is defined as a combination of Nature and Arcane. We can assume then that Druids are accessing Arcane magic through the pathways of Nature, similar to how Sunwalkers (tauren paladins) access the Light through their devotion to An’she.

Connections to Spirit and Decay Druids, Monks, and Shamans all share a connection with the element of Spirit and their “darker” counterparts inversely with Decay.

The easiest way to think about these connections to the element of Spirit and Decay is based on the class - Monks are in tune with their own inner Spirit or Decay, Shamans are in tune with the Spirit and Decay linked to the Elements, and Druids are in tune with the Spirit and Decay linked to nature and wildlife. 

Monks very clearly have a link to Spirit through their use of Chi. The inverse of this and their manifestation of Decay may be the Sha which has ties to the Old Gods and possibly madness (see my previous post on The Nature of Memory Magic). Shamans are easy as well since Spirit is one of the elements and Shamans may use it to commune with the elements and access the Elemental Planes and Dark Shamans use Decay to bind and enslave them. Druids also have access to the element of Spirit through its flow through nature and the Emerald Dream (see my previous post on The Nature of Memory Magic). Obviously for life to be in balance Druids must walk a fine line between Spirit and Decay, but out of control Decay in Druidism presents as the Nightmare and Thros/the Drust. You could also make the argument that the Druids of the Flame is Spirit out of control, but that’s for another paper on another day.

A quick little fun addon after my exploration of teleportation, memory, and Spirit in my previous post on The Nature of Memory Magic, this connection to this element of Spirit may explain how Monks are able to cast Zen Pilgrimage, Shamans are able to Astral Recall, and Druids are able to cast Dreamwalking.

All of this lines up with what we recently found in Palawltar’s Codex of Dimensional Structure. Each one of these classes have their connection to Spirit, Decay, and Nature magic, but they are all from different pathways to access that power. Once again proving that it’s how the magic is acquired that makes you one of these classes in a similar way to Clerics, Sorcerers, Wizards, and Warlocks in D&D 5e.

I hope this exploration of how these four nature magic users are distinct and how they intersect is helpful to you. Aside from the workload of making a bunch of new assets for Druids to be available to all races it seems to me that there is a need for a culture to have some sort of deep connection to the Dream or Wild Gods/Loa for them to access that ability. I do find it interesting that Druidism only seems to occur on Azeroth. We do see Shamanism on both Draenor and Argus, but curiously no form of Druidism. It seems that only the native races of Azeroth (Tauren, Trolls, and subsequently Night Elves) and those cursed to be bound to the Dream or Wild Gods (the Drust and Gilneans) have access to this ability. Races that are alien to Azeroth, descendants from Titan constructs afflicted by the “curse of flesh,” or those that were altered by Order (the High Elves and Nightborne) all lack this ability or pathway to Druidism. I’m interested to see if Blizzard ever explores this, perhaps in future patches with Elun’ahir and the Harronir. If and when they do I’ll be fervently exploring the topic. The Nature of Memory Magic As always my intention is never to police the roleplay of others, but rather to provide more canon centered explanations for those interested

[the-trinket-witch]

Finally! I've finally got to work on all the Overblot Overhaul designs!

For a refresher, my 400 follower raffle was to pick 4 folks to have an OC of theirs Monster-Blot-ified (They are both the mage AND phantom of their overblot). They are all sketched and moderately rendered (per what I had time for/thought appropriate)

To kick off Spooky Season, Here they are!!

@kimikitti 's 'Obi' Oberon! Cycle after cycle. Page after page. One chapter after the next. Am I only here to document other characters? The pen is in my hand; I think some revisions are in order. (Neat little tidbit: the zalgofied text is an excerpt from Midsummer Night's Dream ;D )

@transriddlerosehearts 's Ruby It's difficult to heal a broken heart, especially one so thoroughly shattered. The thought of you still lingers in the wreckage that is their ribcage. After such betrayal, it's only natural that one might put up defenses to ensure such pain never happens again. Anemones only allow The Right One to get close enough to what nests inside.

@althea-and-alcestris 's Alcestris Rage may be blind, but tis rage nonetheless. Let it not be a surprise when the Garden's snake comes to aggress.

@the-rini-rush 's Ryuuni (I hope I got it across the ♾ symbolism in the tethers. As well, the one hand is actually grabbing their string to take control back ;D) Over and over I fuck myself over And under and under I do it again Morning and evening I felt I was grieving Until I said fuck you And never again - Rio Romero "Over and Over"

And Lastly: Albert.

"I know exactly what the time is I do not need no fucking clocks I hear the footsteps of death behind me They sound like ticking, they never stop Every second I am not working I feel I’m wasting my finite time The clocks are ticking, the clocks are talking I almost hear them in my mind" -Tardigrade Inferno "Tick Tock"

TAGLIST:

@ceruleancattail @squidwen @thecosmicjackalope @vaporvipermedia@writing-heiress

@oya-oya-okay @k-looking-glass-house @thehollowwriter @rainesol @cyn-write

@heartscrypt @honey-milk-depresso @br3adtoasty @jackiecronefield @ruggiethethuggie

@hoboyherewego @achy-boo @oreoskys @oseathepebble @oathofoaks

@tunabesimpin @hamstergal @fumikomiyasaki@valse-a-mille-temps

@hallowed-delights @kimikitti @plutos-hell @thetwstwildcard @atwstedstory

@comingyourlugubriousness @ice-cweam-sod4 @twst-the-night-away @nammanarin @scint1llat3

[lovelizards]

"Now, Meres, can you tell me what it is you've done wrong?"

The weight of the slender man's legs as they crossed at the ankles and rested on Meres' shoulder was nothing compared to the intense pressure he felt under his master's cold gaze.

How long had it been since he'd been punished?

The moments where he found himself on his knees begging for forgiveness were few and far between in the last few years.

Since he was broken in, Meres had always been a good dog.

No matter what the order was, no matter how fraught his sleep was with the nightmares of things he'd been forced to do, he had done them without questioning.

"Meres." The slender man spat his name like an insult.

"F - forgive me, my lord, I -"

"I asked what you did wrong. I'm waiting for your answer."

"Ah, forgive me, I - I -" Meres hesitated, because the answer wasn't exactly as clear as he thought it was. Should he just apologise for everything all at once? Surely the punishment would be easier if he just got it all out and admitted his mistakes.

The slender man sighed, nudging his head with the side of a shoe.

"You've never been the brightest dog, but must I really repeat myself a third time? Don't you know you shouldn't do things you'll have to ask forgiveness for in the first place?"

"Y - yes, of course, my lord...I - I have been hesitant in following your orders. And - and I've been too familiar with your possessions. And - "

The slender man interrupted him with a kick to the face.

It was the shock of pain rather than the force of it that knocked him, unbalanced, onto his back. Hot blood streamed from his nose and he coughed on it.

With a heavy sigh, the slender man stood up, and put pressure against one of his legs with the flat of his shoe, straining the muscle. Meres grimaced against the pain, but dare not utter a sound.

"Usually I wouldn't care about a neutered dog playing with some wild bird, but it seems like that filthy thing is a bad influence on you."

"A - a bad -?" Meres coughed, "No, she - Iska isn't -"

"Don't you know how cunning a mage is, Meres?" The slender man's tone softened, "they will say and do anything for their own benefit. Did you suppose breaking the tether I have on you would win her over? That the two of you might run off to a happily ever after?"

Meres didn't dare meet the man's eyes.

It was true that he'd been trying to fight against the enchantment.

Iska had said only the weak-willed could be controlled. She...had believed in him, that he could fight it. The arcane mind control that sometimes blinded him and caused him to lose hours, days at a time in a haze -

He had thought if he could break it, maybe...maybe they could...together...

But the slender man knew, he always knew. There was no escaping him.

"Forgive me, my lord...it - it wasn't because of her, I - I get headaches...that's the only reason..."

Meres did his best, but the fear made his voice break. It felt impossible to craft any kind of lie in front of his master.

"You poor, sad beast..." the slender man sighed, "I can see that mage has truly gotten her talons into you."

"N - no, my lord, it isn't like that - I - I only - aagh!"

The slender man gripped Meres' face tightly, his palm flat against Meres' eyes and fingers pressing painfully against his temples.

"Listen to me well, Meres. Are you listening?" The slender man tightened his grasp and caused a shooting pain to rocket through Meres' head.

"Agh - y - yes, I - I'm listening my lord -"

"There is nothing for you in the world except serving me. What would you be without me? I gave you what pittance of magic you were able to absorb. I gave you a purpose. You were nothing when I found you, and you'll be nothing again if you ever were to leave."

The slender man's words rang and echoed strangely in his head, humming almost like a song, tolling low like a bell.

Meres clenched his teeth against it, but with his eyes forced closed there was nothing he could do to distract himself from it.

"That mage's very blood flows pure with mana, she is a mage the likes of which you could never begin to imagine. Even when I break her, she will still be more than a pathetic mutt like you."

The slender man was right. Meres was nothing. Not strong enough to defend himself. Not strong enough to break the mind control. Only as good as his strength. Nothing...nothing...

"A powerful mage..." Meres mumbled, feeling a strange numbness in his fingers, "Iska is..."

Iska...Iska...the name echoed again and again in his mind.

Somewhere, swimming in the fog, like a weak flickering light against a darkness, he found her face. The soft of her lips, the brush of her fingers, her sharp eyes and her voice like a melody when it called his name.

"Poor Meres," the slender man said gently, "so strong of body, yet so weak of mind..."

"Yes...I - I am weak. Forgive me, my lord...I never meant to..."

The slender man slowly pulled his hand away, but Meres kept his eyes closed. He wanted to keep the image of Iska in his mind for as long as he could.

The only light he had ever known in this cold, dark place.

"Retire to your room. I am busy now, your punishment will come later."

"Yes, my lord..."

Meres stood, his legs aching. He finally opened his eyes, wincing against the pale white light of day filtering in through the curtains.

He could feel the beat of his own heart, not racing, but drumming a steady march. Maybe...when he told Iska how he'd been fighting against the enchantment...

Maybe she would reach out to him, touch his face gently.

And if they could...somehow...leave this place...

Even if he became nothing, as long as he was by her side...

Then maybe some day he could see her smile at him.

And that would be enough.

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[raayllum]

me rolling in with my TDP 'stoic' big hearted warrior and goofy sometimes temperamental mage otp like "oh, you want only one bed trope? got it. stargazing together? uh there's multiple scenes, which one? artist drawing his gf? giving her his scarf and weaving her jewelry? yeah, got that too. lovingly watching each other sleep? that's happened like four times. her pulling him in by the scarf? yeah that was just three seasons in. uhh everyone ships it, even the villains who use them against each other? got a punch and battle couple vibes watching each other's backs. your best friend/lover being your core tether to the world, love confessions/affirmations when you think you're about to die, and then even when you're not? him doing everything he can to ensure she gets her family back when she struggles to do things for herself. her doing everything she can to keep him safe, from using her badassery to her big heart. running to each other for reunion hugs and kisses. devotion to the point of destroying yourself and others? 'it was always you'? mmhm yeah. enemies to friends to lovers who are then forced to be enemies again because of possession and getting through to each other? 11+ kisses? yeah. forehead touches too. do you want anything else while i'm out?"