#cantrip candles
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make a deal with Maevenon, Patron of Faces 🤲 it will surely benefit you both...
(illustrative work for Cantrip Candles' new line of Patrons & Deities - check them out if it piques your interest!)
#my art#extremely cool to have an illustration of mine in an actual shop on the other side of the world...#cantrip candles#fae#archfey#also v excited to receive it irl as a little bonus hee hee
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Javid, Steward of Knowledge. Painted for one of Patrons and Deities cards from Cantrip Candles.
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Some work I did for cantrip candles! Which is your favourite?
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Hey there, as art coordinator I wrote a blog post about our development for our Patrons & Deities line, as well as a bit about each god and patron!
I'd also like to point out that art is important to us, and we wanted that showcased with this line of candles.
Check out our additional lore blogs that you can take and run with, or simply apply these candle concepts to your pre-exisiting world and characters!
This is a candle line for your immersion and enjoyment, and we hope you like it as much as we do. :)
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If you're not in the know, I cannot overstate how fucking good this candle smells. I want to wear it as a sweater. I want every room of my house to smell like this. I want Autumn Festival shampoo. I want this to be the scent people associate with me when I leave the room.
Just. Damn.
And it's seasonal, so now's the time. Get some for yourself or your local long suffering cryptid who really only thrives when the summer heat slinks off into the sunset.
#cantrip candles#autumn festival#not sponsored#I just really love it okay#and I never manage to get enough of them to last the year until they sell it again#bonus: this company puts metal D20s in the bottom of their candles
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I saw you mentioning candle scents and it got me thinking: are there any scents that the ROs (and you too!) like most? Like for a room scent or a perfume/cologne? Is it different if it's for them or someone else (like maybe they like woodsy scents for themselves but floral for someone else)?
I cannot boast Cantrip Candles enough. Google them. Check them out. They are worth every single penny. Those are some of my favorite scents ever. @mooreaux was a sweetheart and just got me Den of Thieves because it reminded one of you of Milo. Oddly enough, it reminds me more of Belladonna. :)
As for a room scent, I do have one that I assign to each. It's kind of how they smell, I imagine.
Milo: Leather. Tobacco. Bergamot. Burnt Sugar.
Hazel: Moss. Morning Dew. Honeysuckle
Belladonna: Red Wine. Night Jasmine. Sugar Plum
Gabriel: Fresh Linen. Citrus. Green Tea. Sandalwood
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Wax Wizard | 2021
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was given the opportunity to work with Cantrip Candles for their upcoming Patrons and Deities line! thank you for letting me work with your Prince of Death!
#scopophobia tw#art#wow i haven't used that tag in a Long Time#i miss doing cards....i've been wanting to do oc cards for (checks) i think about 8 years now and never actually doing anything#anyways it's back to the grind
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Astarion loves to take baths with you.
It's one of his favorite ways to spend his downtime in general, honestly. Not only is the bath such a soothing place to be (you know once this man has the option, he's going to splurge on a vast collection of luxury soaps, oils, hair masks, and body scrubs- the list goes on.), but there's just something about it that makes him feel so normal? Mortal, almost.
If he lets himself soak just long enough, the heat from the water begins to nullify the vampiric chill that he's grown ever so used to. It's a pleasant warmth that works its way past pale skin- past tired muscles and aching sinew- and settles down deep into his very bones. For a few precious moments, he can convince himself that the eternal discomfort of undeath has made off for good this time.
And his hair always looks spectacular after wash day. It's a win-win scenario for him. So for his favorite person to be involved as well? Well, that just makes it all the more better.
-
This time, you're lounging on the floor nearby as he soaks- having stuck around after washing his hair for him as he oh-so-kindly requested of you. He's still a bit new at asking for small acts of kindness, so of course, you jumped at the chance to put your hands to good use. You were so careful not to catch your fingers on any snags as you worked a sweet-smelling soap through his wet curls, nails scrubbing away at his scalp even after it's all rinsed away just to hear him purr for you.
You're leaning against the bath, cheek cushioned against your forearm as it rests along the edge. The other swirls idly in the water- kept heated by clever use of prestidigitation (you'd recently picked up this cantrip for purposes such as this) and softened by the finest oils stolen gold could purchase. The curtains in your room are carefully drawn, and although your source of light comes from the multitude of candles scattered about, it's still enough to see the nice flush the heat brings to his skin. It's a little odd to see him so pinkened, and obviously, you can't help but stare no matter how hard you try not to.
It's the blood- your blood- that's pooling beneath the surface of his skin and giving him this radiance that many a man would covet.
Rose blooms a pretty bouquet on the smooth skin of his chest, up the length of his bared throat as he rests his head, and even reaches the tips of the pointy ears you so adore. Gods, even his knuckles are pinker when he reaches a hand out of the water to push his hair away from his forehead, and your gaze immediately follows the trail of soapy water as it glides down his wrist- drip-drops from his elbow and back into the bath.
Astarion looks so... peaceful like this.
Pale lashes rest upon warm cheeks as he reclines, face fallen soft, similar to how it does when he's deep in trance. A part of you wonders if this is how he might have looked back some two hundred years ago, before the affliction that was bestowed upon him by his old (now deceased, you celebrate mentally) master.
Eyes of ruby open just a crack, and you know that smug smile is coming before his lips so much as twitch.
"You know, my dear, most people consider staring to be rather rude." He purrs.
You're proud to say you don't miss a beat.
"Good thing you're nothing like most people then, hm?" Quick wit- a developing side effect from the many days spent traveling with the cheekiest rogue in all of Faerûn.
Quick as you may be– he is quicker.
"Ah, right you are. Most people aren't nearly as beautiful as I am– one can hardly blame you for all of your slack-jawed gawping."
A half-huffed laugh is pulled out of you. Astarion loves to pretend he isn't just as delighted by your glossy-eyed admiring as he is amused.
And here you are again, suddenly distracted by the slightest bounce of silver curls when he tilts his head to watch your smile hit your eyes. His hair looks a bit longer when it's weighed down by bathwater and conditioning oils, almost to the point where some bits just barely brush his shoulders. You're so mesmerized that you have to touch him. The hand that's been playing in the water comes up to brush a few nearly translucent hairs away from where they've stuck to the curve of his neck, lingering afterward to carefully trace a finger down to his collarbone as you continue your oggle-fest.
Only just a moment longer, you tell yourself, and then you'll leave him be.
Yet, he doesn't let you pull away too far when you've finished. A deft hand comes up from the depths to capture yours the second you think about leaving him to his privacy, and you nearly jump at the unfamiliar temperature of its grasp.
He's warm.
Almost warmer than you, and it's honestly kind of jarring.
Astarion's still sporting that smile, although a bit kinder than before. If you weren't watching so closely, you'd miss how his eyes flash, uncharacteristically shy for just a moment before that heavy-lidded stare is set back in place. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, petal-soft lips resting against the damp heel of your palm in a not-so-kiss.
They press for a long moment, and you can feel the appreciative hum he gives more than you can hear it. It occurs to you that he's probably just as dazed at your matching temperatures as you are.
"Get in here, darling." The command comes out as more of a question, really. You know in your heart that you have every right to refuse him if you really want to and that he wouldn't even consider holding it against you if you did.
But why in the hells would you ever do a thing as silly as that?
#bg3#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate 3#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion headcanons#astarion#astarion fic#astarion fluff
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Pairing: Astarion x reader
Prompt: In which you couldn't convince Astarion not to become the Vampire ascendant, but still do not allow him to do the ritual.
Description: You really did fall so hard, and so, so fast. No wonder when the ground came to meet you did it hurt just as much. But perhaps its not too late to stand back up again, if someone was willing to lend a hand.
Rating: sfw
Content Warning: hurt/comfort
Word Count: 3018
Notes: I had to save scum this so much on my file that was romancing him. And well I be thinking about him a lot lately... I litterally have no idea where these words came from btw so I hope u enjoy them!
“It’s over,” Said with such disdain, such pain and hurt, directed your way. “I’m done with this, and I’m done with you.” Venom, dripping and cold. What happened to the warmth in those eyes? To the love that once shown in them, when he looked your way? “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.” He looked so broken, so hurt.
You hardly remembered what came next, beyond your own tears. Astarion simply… left. Walk away as you crumpled to the ground, in disbelief. As you begged him to say. When you told him, over and over again, that you loved him.
Karlach and Shadowheart must have dragged you out of those dungeons, otherwise you might still be there, wallowing in your pity. You don’t remember how long it had been since then. Since you had stopped Cazador from ascending, freed Astarion from his grasp… and tried to convince him not to ascend himself. Your words may have failed, but your actions didn’t; you didn’t let him use your eyes to copy his scars. You couldn’t.
All for him to walk away.
You hadn’t really been the same, since then. Where once you were the leader of your little ragtag group of adventurers, now you couldn’t find it in you to leave your tent. Well… Astarion’s tent, actually. You never had one of your own. And when the two of you got together, it just seemed natural to share.
Gale had taken over in leading everyone for day to day adventuring on your behalf. Even though you wished it, the world would not slow down because you were hurt. No kindness spared on your broken, broken heart. Yet you couldn’t stop wondering where you went wrong. Were the two of you not as close as you thought? Could you have been more convincing, hell, more intimidating, anything to have kept him by your side?
You think, right now, it’s night. Your candle’s are all stuffed out, the bustle of the streets beyond are quiet, and you can’t hear the patter and stomps of Scratch and the owlbear cub playing around camp. Your tears have all but dried, even if your sorrow remains as fresh as a new wound. No, all is silent in this moment.
You take a deep breath. Yes, it would be best to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, you would wake up and feel like a person again. One who could attend to all her duties. And maybe even get back on the path to save Baldur’s gate.
But sleep never comes for those whose hearts are so heavy. This isn’t the first night you’ve lied awake, thoughts wondering. All for the better, perhaps-- because in the heavy quiet of the cities dark night, you hear the flap of your tent open with the utmost quietness. And you, just as quiet, sit up from your laying position. Who ever has invaded your space must have dark vision, for they pause upon seeing your form and do not move an inch.
“I can see you there.” Your voice comes out, gravelly and rough. You don’t sense your in danger, though, even as your heart beats and pounds in your chest. Who would be stupid enough to steal from a camp full of adventurers, with an owlbear lurking around no less. Still, with some trepidation, you cast the cantrip for light, and watch as your messy tent (and new guest) are bathed in cool, blue light.
“Oh,” Is all you think to say. You can’t really trust your eyes, so you rub the days of built up sleep and sorrow from them. No, you can’t even speak his name as you stare upon him. But you dare not look away. Even if it was a dream, it was him. It was him.
“...You’re a mess.” His words are soft, quiet. He seems to relax a little when he sees you make no movement.
“...I suppose I am.” You clear your throat a little after speaking, if only because a new lump seems to be forming now that you look to him. “How… how can I help you, Astarion?”
“Gods…” He heaves a heavy sigh, looking over your pitiful form. “I’ve hurt you this much, and you still think to help me? Are you stupid?” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Perhaps.” You nod softly. “Stupid enough to fall in love with you, after all.” You can only smile weakly at him.
“I came here too…” He frowns, looking away from you for a moment. “Well it doesn’t matter why I came back. You clearly need some sense knocked back into you.” With that, he moves in closer to you. Surprised, you move in a little in order to accommodate him. You try to ignore the beating of your heart, ignore the hope that rises within you like a phoenix from its ashes.
“What… are you going to do?” You turn to him, nestled into your side like he might have been not too long ago.
“Talk, as terrible as that sounds.” He keeps his gaze down, looking at the messed up bedding.
“Talk?” You repeat. “I thought you… didn’t want to see me again.”
“Well, that was then. This is now.” Astarion looks to you. To the bags built up under your eyes. Your cheeks, still rosy and sensitive with just how many tears you’ve shed (for him, no less). Your hair is unkempt and as gross as you are, all he can see is someone that loves him… “I… said and did some terrible things during that ritual. Things that… looking back, I may not have done were I in the right head space.” He swallows hard. “I was… scared. And the promise of power, the smell of blood… it was all so intoxicating, I forgot myself there for a moment.”
The two of you sit in the silence a moment, festering in it. Words dance on the tip of your tongue but Astarion isn’t done speaking. He, too, needs a moment to compose himself. “But… you never forgot who I was.” He looks to you, something soft, something sad, something gentle written into the contours of his face. Even as he turns to you, he struggles to meet your eyes-- shining, glimmering, with something sweet and promising and loving in them. Something that he doesn’t deserve; not after the actions he took that day.
“You did everything in your power to convince me what I was doing was wrong, but all I could see then was the security that power could bring me.” He closes his eyes, taking a sharp intake of air though his nose. “I was so blinded, I could not see that with you by my side, I was the happiest I’ve ever been these past 200 years…” As he opens his eyes, he looks down to his folded hands, then over to yours. You realize that even if he is so close… Astarion hesitates to touch you. Maybe he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to do so any more, or perhaps felt he was no longer worthy… Whatever the reason, it breaks your heart just a little bit more.
“I… see.” It’s a lot to soak up. That in the moment, you couldn’t reach him but in the days sense Astarion has realized… maybe this was for the better.
“You saved me from becoming the very man I lived in fear of, and all I gave you in return was heartbreak.” He seeks your eyes, his own wide and wet and you realize he’s crying now. Tears flood your eyes as well, because he was right; you cared for him so much, though, it almost didn’t seem to matter. Almost. “How can I ever expect you to forgive me?” With that, he breaks, closing his eyes roughly and crying out, sobbing into his own hands.
All you can do in that moment is cry with him. Two, love sick idiots broken and hurt but not beyond mending-- not yet.
“It’s okay,” You find yourself struggling to say the words, even as you usher him into your arms and hold him. He does not hesitate to hold you in turn, to cry unto you as you into him. “We’ll be okay, I promise, I promise.” Your words come out as prayer as you hold him close. “Just don’t leave again, please!”
“I won’t, I won’t.” Astarion seems to compose himself more quickly than you do, but he does not let go, even as you know your tears stain his shirt. “I’ve got you and I won’t leave you ever again.” He rubs his hand along your back slowly, doing his best to try and comfort you in the same way you have for him in the past. It’s a long moment before you feel yourself begin to breathe normally again, before your tears once again dry and you find yourself staring into his red eyes once more.
“I love you,” Your words are softer than a whisper, said with a trembling smile.
“I love you too.” Astarion responds in kind, resting his forehead against yours. You two stay content a moment before he speaks again. “But you’re disgusting-- let me take care of you.” He pulls away from you and your left no room to argue. You merely blink, owlishly, as he pulls back. He moves to stand but you grab his hand.
“Where are you going?” You hold on to him with both hands now, and he has to pause to take the sudden fear on your face. Astarion had planned to leave to return with a little wash bin and rag but seeing you so distraught makes him pause. Of course, the last time he walked away from you he didn’t return…
“We’re going to get you cleaned up.” With a bit of a struggle, Astarion gets you to rise to your feet next to him. “Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He adds. You nod slowly, still a little on edge from the panic that just flooded your system but nonetheless, trusting Astarion.
So, with the difficulty that comes with only having one hand, Astarion pins open the flaps of the tent (your light cantrip soon goes out as well, but the inside is illuminated but the torchlight of your camp). Some of the stale air you had been living in gets to escape, and you’re able to take a fresh breath of air you hadn’t realized you needed.
Astarion gathers his wash bin, and the rag, and with you in tow, rummages through that the travelers chest you seem to toss anything and everything into. But, avoiding unmatched boots and careful not to prick himself on all the arrows that are in there (and trying not to think about how they were likely dumped in there after he left), he finds what he was looking for-- some soap. And though the water is cold, and the night is cool, at least with a little bit of soap and his careful hand, it’s not all bad.
“You need to wash these clothes too,” Astarion huffs. “I know you have other things, so let’s get you into something cleaner.” You’re guided back into your shared tent (which is already starting to smell better, but the scented water is helping as well) while Astarion rifles though your clothing. Here together again, you finally let go of his hand but stay close to him.
“Thank you…” You pause, watching him pick out something comfortable and warm. “I can take care of myself, though.” You add, taking the clothing from him.
“I’m sure you can-- but I want to take care of you.” He doesn’t let go of your clothing as you try and take it. “So, let me.” His gaze flicks up to your eyes and you’re surprised to see him look so stubborn.
“Oh,” You let go of the clothing, surprised. “I… That would be nice.” You say it quietly, still too caught up in him being here, being real and touching you, loving you.
“Now, out of the nasty clothing, if you would.” He persists, grabbing the hem of your current shirt. He pauses before lifting it though, looking to your face. “That is, if you’re okay with me…” he trails, unsure.
“It’s you, so it’s okay.” You assure him. You raise your hands so he can take off the offending, stinky shirt, and toss it aside. Next, he removes your pants, tossing them the same direction.
“This might be a little cold,” Astarion tells you, but it doesn’t stop the flinch (nor the shiver) as the cool rag touches your skin. Still, his touch is delicate and careful.
He first wipes your face (part of it, still covered in blood and dirt from that same battle). He dips and wrings out the rag, before continuing his work. Your chest, your arms, legs-- all of you, gently washed and cared for. You realize this is the first time he’s been so intimate with you in a non sexual way. It’s… nice. To see his brow furrowed in concentration, have his hands upon you just hold you. It’s not like the two of you went entirely without touching one another in that time, but to have him initiating it, warms you.
“Now, back in your clothing before you catch a cold.” You nod at him and smile, sliding on the familiar pants and shirt with comfort and ease.
“I already feel a lot better, thank you.” He smiles softly, but sits you back down.
“Just let me attend to this rats nest, and we can be done.” Astarion reaches for his comb, and sits beside you. “Lean back so I can wet your hair,” He guides you down, with your head over the basin, and cups his hand to gather water before wetting your hair.
You let his work quietly, until your hair is wet and he can begin working out the knots starting at the ends. When the comb runs freely to your hair, he grabs the soap and carefully massages it into your scalp, scratching here in there. You let out a sigh in content, and Astarion can’t help but smile softly.
He was still shocked that you even talked to him-- let alone let him touch you. But the two of you needed this. To hold and be held, to love and let go. He truly was a fool to ever think he could be without you. But he was lucky, then, that you were fool enough to let him back in.
With your hair washed, combed, and dried and the water dumped and wash bin put aside, Astarion let you sit back up and look at him. “So… what happens next?” You ask softly.
“Well… I’m not sure.” He admits. “I didn’t think you would forgive me so… I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.”
“I suppose we get our rest, then.” You heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve taken enough time off from adventuring… And you have some friends who deserve an explanation as well.”
“More talking?” Astarion groans softly, but makes no move to leave your side as you lie down and tug him with you. “But… you are right.”
“You’ll be okay.” You give him a good, full body squeeze. “Everyone here cares for you. They’ll be willing to hear you out.”
“Perhaps only with you by my side.” He lets out a little chuckle. “But… that’s not such a bad thing.” He readjusts in your grasp, snuggling close and turning towards you. “Rest well, darling.” He kisses the top of your head, and smiles down at your sleepy expression.
“I will, now that you’re here…” It didn’t take long for sleep to find you, wound up in Astarion’s arms. You hadn’t slept so well in days, and who was he to wake you when you looked so peaceful…? It seemed like time passed so quickly with you in his arms, and before long he could hear the sounds of everyone else waking in camp.
Astarion couldn’t help but grow anxious as footsteps grew closer to the tent. “Solider, you in there?” Karlach’s voice called out. “I know you haven’t been very hungry lately, but I brought you some breakfast…” Unable to do anything to stop her, Astarion watched as Karlach pokes her head into the tent. With the morning light, they could only stare at one another a moment.
“Shh, just let them sleep a while longer…” Astarion turned from Karlach, and brushed some stray hairs from your face. “When they’re ready to wake up, I’ll… I’ll be ready to.” He turns from you, back to Karlach, a look of surprise and glee on her face.
“Right! Right… I’ll be quiet!” She gives him a little thumbs up and quickly retreats from the tent. But… Astarion can hear Karlach, even if she is all the way across camp. First, she tells Jaheira, then Minsc, and Minthara and Lae’zel overhear… Then Wyll, Shaodowheart and Halsin of course overhear and then Gale finds out, and now the whole camp is aware that he’s back here even if they are being remarkable polite about it….
Still, it brings a smile on his face. To know they were so excited to see him again (maybe even if it was only to see you happy again) was a comforting thought. To be among friends… That was something truly special indeed.
“Astarion…?” You wake slowly, eyes barely open as you look to him, hold him a little tighter.
“I’m here,” Astarion assures you, giving you a squeeze in return.
“Good…” You close your eyes and cuddle back into him, letting out a small yawn. “Let’s stay alone for just a little longer yet.”
“That can be arranged.” He can’t help but smile, and relax into you. Everyone else could wait a little longer yet-- you deserved what ever you wanted in this moment. And if that happened to be him, well, Astarion was in no place to say no.
#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3 fanfic#bg3 x reader#just... thinking about how alone and afriad he would feel after that#made me kind of insane
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tempest rogue lavellan who doesn’t use flasks and is fully insistent they’re not a mage they just have a bit of the spark in the blood. everyone can do that, it doesn’t count. you think a demon wants THIS because i can light a candle or move a bit fast sometimes? you think i could make keeper? get real. vivienne stop looking at me like that. i’m not a mage the rest of you are being weird. learn a cantrip or two and maybe you’ll calm down. if you can’t light veilfire that’s on you
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BG3 characters having a 'these edibles aint shit' moment:
Halsin is lying on his back in the garden and has been for like an hour straight saying nothing, he probably cultivated the weed and its like super strong through druid powers
Wyll spends the entire high fastidiously cleaning the entire camp, and sweeps the dirt under Halsin several times just to be thorough
Shadowheart is in a corner playing an entire Evanesence album and pausing it to explain how good it is and how good the lyrics are (she will move on to other similar music too)
Gale is somewhere by himself casting the simplest cantrips over and over and just being Amazed at the Amazing Properties of the Weave and how it contains Untold Power while he summons like one tiny candle sized flame
Lae'zel has the owlbear cub in her lap by like hour two and is holding up his claws saying stuff like 'murderous. fearsome. beast' and the cub is just going hoot
Karlach keeps forgetting she's put a hot pocket in the microwave and so ends up with like 7 and is trying to hard to relieve the munchies but she can't stop laughing
Astarion keeps panicking about his hair being messed up and going to find a mirror and then saying fuck everytime he realizes he has no reflection
Aylin is convinced she can sober up through rigorous exercise and so is doing sets of one hundred unbroken air squats with Isobel on her back
Volo was vociferously booed for dropping the lasagna and they sent him out to pick up pizza but he doesn't get back til like 5am
Minthara is probably the most normal and is just like hanging out reading a book and from time to time looking up judgingly at everyone else who is losing their shit
Jaheira has made rice krispy treats
Minsc is having a very very troubling and extremely intense existential debate with Boo and is on the verge of tears and wants to give everyone a hug
Withers what are you doing over there bone man
#baldur's gate 3#lae'zel#karlach#wyll#isobel#dame aylin#astarion#shadowheart#jaheira#minsc#volo#gale#halsin#withers#these edibles aint shit
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My thoughts are running around in circles about incantation-less and ingredient-less magic right now, thanks to this panel from Puzzle House:
I had speculated that Claudia's hand-flashlight spell and Viren's candle-lighting spell were perhaps a sort of dark magic cantrip that they'd prepped ahead of time and stored up charges for.
But in this Puzzle House scene, Claudia doesn't categorize the candle-lighting trick as dark magic. She explains that Kpp'ar coined the term "snap magic" and that it was powered by "a 'spark of fun' instead of primal sources or..." or what remains a mystery, because Claudia interrupts herself there and doesn't finish her explanation.
There's an intriguing passage in ToX explaining that experienced* dark mages can cast some "simple" spells, specifically like lighting a candle, without dice rolls (bypassing the pass/fail mechanic of the game); however, it's not clear if that means they wouldn't still have to use a reagent to perform the spell.
--Tales of Xadia, page 147
*"Experienced" dark mages as in, possessing dark magic trauma from the accumulated and untreated stress brought about casting dark magic spells.... Do you really consider that a "spark of fun," Kpp'ar?
The other time I've heard mention of magical sparks is from Lujanne's lecture about arcanums in 2x01 (emphasis mine):
"Wait, what's an arcanum?"
"It's like... the secret of the Primal, or its meaning."
"The secret of the Primal?"
"Yes. That secret becomes a spark. The tiniest possible flicker of a Primal Source inside you. But enough to ignite the world with its magic."
There are two other examples within the show where mages cast spells without voicing a spell or incantation. Every instance where Aaravos casts a spell, he is silent, and Callum is able to cast spells underwater in 5x09 without breathing a word. They both still do need to trace out runes/do some kind of hand-waving for their spellcasting.
So, we have sparks, we have secrets, we have silent mages... and I wish I had more of the pieces to this puzzle, because I can't put together a conclusion.
#anyways. that's the post.#all puns are intentional and i apologize for none of them#the dragon prince#tales of xadia#puzzle house#tdp speculation#dark magic
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*taps mic* is this thing on
#hey i'm eva and i'm the storefront and art coordinator at Cantrip Candles! and for now i'm also responsible for our tumblr!#wish me luck#we've got some upcoming Really Neat projects so im excited to be able to start sharing about them soon!! :))))#Cantrip Candles
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wish me strength this weekend for ive tasked myself w editing together a bunch of clips of work related stuff i filmed over the past 2 weeks...
i really enjoy watching studio vlog type content while i work (like body doubling ig?) and have thought a lot about being able to provide that for other people 🤔 plus it might be fun to get a peek at what i get up to as an illustrator who does Not have their shit together or a nicely decorated workspace dkdndjsjbfnf
there will be cantrip candles in it, patreon postcard packaging, some drawing process, planner insert noodling, and most importantly footage of my pets 👏
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hello! what are some of your favorite things? (i.e. fav snack, fav smell or sound, fav time of day, etc.)
Oooo! A personal question.
Favorite snack is by far chips. I of course can't have them all the time but when I need that kind of comfort food, I go for potato chips or cool ranch Doritos. Hands down.
Favorite smell: It's a candle that I have actually. I got a gift from my husband for our anniversary from a candle making company called Cantrip Candles. They make these D&D inspired candles with dice in them and my absolute favorite is Goldwheat Bakery. It smells like perfection. Here is the link to their candles if anyone is interested
Favorite Sound: The belly laugh my daughter does is one I currently can't get over. Other than that? Silence. LOL! My house and life are constantly loud so I appreciate when it calms.
Favorite time of day: Night. I have been a night owl since I was a kid and that has not changed despite now needing to get up at 6 a.m. I have always found the world to be more at peace during those hours and have loved the quiet that goes with it.
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