Fairytale (1)

Originally posted by r-velvets

“A world in which elves exists and magic works offers greater opportunities to digress and explore” – Terry Brooks

Genre: Fluff

Member: Sehun


‘Once upon a time,’… that was how most fairytales started. At least that was what you used to think.

Yours started a little differently.

It was not difficult to get caught up in the fantasy of a dream world that you longed to be a part of. Regular life was ordinary, and not as magical as the ones in fairytales that you loved to read.

Childhood was the most magical time. Most children believe everything their parents tell them. The Tooth Fairy, Father Christmas and the Easter Bunny were all parts of a fantasy that you grew up believing to be true.

Keep reading

snowglobes-and-pixiedust  asked:

For the ask: 55, 57, 58 and 91 (I'm very excited for chilly weather and Autumn!). Oh and I love your blog, have a fantastic day! :)

Thank you for all the asks and the kind words! I too am excited for autumn, it’s such a magical time of year. I’m sooo ready for summer to end 🍂

55. Favorite type of fruit pie?

Blueberry! It’s my absolute favorite and it’s divine okay. Second to that is strawberry 🥄 ✨

57. Do you believe in ghosts?

Absolutely. I’ve encountered a few of them before when I was younger. From seeing one in person, hearing them, and being touched. It’s something that would take me ages to explain. My great grandmother was visited by her deceased husband and son as spirits, and I’ve managed to contact them both through a medium during a gathering event. It was so out there.

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?

I used to get deja-vu all the time, but recently I haven’t experienced it. It’s so… Strange. It’s like you stop and think to yourself “haven’t I done this before? at this exact moment?” It kinda freaks me out. Makes me wonder if there’s another me in a different universe doing the same thing that I am here on earth but… Ahead of time.

91. Best room for a fireplace?

It’s a tie between living room and library. I think fireplaces are perfect for any home, regardless of room. As long as there’s something cozy to curl up in beside it and read a book it sounds good to me!

Originally posted by krebsem

anonymous asked:

Hello Dany! So can you explain to me magnostadt? The timeline seem a little off to me, like Mogamett daughter died and he turn on Musta'sim ( i dont know how ride this things :/) but seem that it happen too fast and doesn't really feet. Please forgive my poor english ^^

Hello ^^

In night 159, Mogamett explains Aladdin, Titus and his students what happened in Musta’sim 70 years ago ( from that moment) vía clairvoyance magic

At that time Magicians served under the royal family of Musta’sim, at first they were exploted and their work was not recognized but all of them worked hard and the king finally aknowledged them. But some noble people didn’t like that, and they spread a rumor about the Magicians being the cause of some epidemy, so the king stirped them of their aristocracy, imprisoned them and tortured them. In the end they appealed to him and Mogamett, the magicians that were left, and his daughter were given a building they could use as a school, but 30 years after that the war against the Parthevian empire started and the magicians were once again needed, that’s where Sana died. 

After they won against the Parthevian invasion. 

So then the non-noble people didn’t like that the royal family would keep the magicians to themselves and rose against them, this is where Dunya’s family is murdered.

This was happened from around the time the first Sindria Kigndom was destroyed ( a bit after i suppose. This would not be very far away from the point where the current SnB timeline is now.) that’s like 11 years before from the moment when Mogammet tells the story To Aladdin, Titus, etc   ( because in this panel in where Sinbad is speaking to Dunya ( after Zagan arc) , he mentions 10 years and this is like a complete year before the Magnostad arc ends)

Scans belong to Sensescans

I hope this helps! <3

I feel like the sheer goofiness of the Wild Magic Surge mechanic in D&D isn’t appreciated nearly enough. If you’re a sorcerer and choose the Wild Magic origin, you have some teeny problems controlling your magic, so that any time you cast a sorcerer spell, the DM can make you roll a d20 to see if you get a Surge. If you roll a one, it’s Surge time, and you have to roll a 1d100 to see what the heck has just happened to you. 

Highlights from the list of 50 possible effects:

  • You grow a long beard made of feathers that remains until you sneeze, at which point the feathers explode out from your face.
  • You cast grease centered on yourself.
  • 1d6 flumphs controlled by the DM appear in unoccupied spaces within 60 feet of you and are frightened of you. They vanish after 1 minute.
  • You turn into a potted plant until the start of your next turn. While a plant, you are incapacitated and have vulnerability to all damage. If you drop to 0 hit points, your pot breaks, and your form reverts.
  • You can’t speak for the next minute. Whenever you try, pink bubbles float out of your mouth.
  • For the next minute, you must shout when you speak.
  • You cast polymorph on yourself. If you fail the saving throw, you turn into a sheep for the spell’s duration.

I mean, it’s funny enough to picture a brand-new level 1 adventurer accidentally spitting out these super-powerful spells, but just imagine an epic-level sorcerer in the middle of a world-ending confrontation accidentally turning themself into a potted plant that takes double damage. Incredible.


• Light a white candle and thank for the month that ends, asking the negative forces to end with your candle.

• Purify the house with coarse salt, rue, basil, guinea and other herbs of banishment and protection.

• Take a cleaning bath on the last day of the month.

• Dispose of everything you no longer wear such as clothing, shoes and others.

• Energize the crystals and other magical items, same thing for your altar.


An Old Challenger Approaches

So our DM has a special rule in his sessions to keep things fresh. On character creation we designate what our ultimate life goal for the character is. If this goal is achieved, the character retires unless he/she has found a new worthy goal to work towards. These characters hang around a guild the oldest character created to swap stories and help out the newbies. If you earned the Guildmaster’s favor, she gave you a one time use magic mirror to call in some backup.

Our party is currently infiltrating a cult of snake worshippers and had just been found out. Outnumbered, they were running through the broken down temple the cult had been using.

Fighter: “You just had to drag every ’s’ in front of the head guy!”

Bard: “Sssorry!”

Wizard: “I hate you so much…”

DM: as you round the corner, you see they cult members have blocked the door and all of the exits. The moon hangs high in the sky, which means that any guards around this slum had long since left their posts.

Fighter: “I guess we are gonna have to fight. There’s too many of them.”

Wizard: “Wait! I’m gonna use the mirror!”

The DM gets a huge smile: “Ok! Lets see who you get!”

We hear about 4 dice rolls and some shuffling of paper as he pulls out the character sheet.

DM: “Everyone make a perception check.”

Everyone rolls above 10.

DM holds his phone above the screen and plays the Pacific Rim theme. Bard’s player cheers!

DM: “As you stand your ground against the cultists, you feel a rumble in the ground. You look to once of the stained glass windows to see a huge shadow raise it’s arm. With a shatter, a huge fist crashes through and you hear a young voice yell ‘Here I come to save the day!’”

The mirror had called in Stevie, a ten year old artificer character who’s goal was to construct the ultimate bully deterrent. He had succeeded with a Huge shield guardian who he affectionately named, “Bubba.”

Needless to say, the cult ended that night.

I’ve gotten quite a few asks recently wanting to know what my issue with Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition is. You’ve probably seen my grumbling about edition-warring a time or three, so I want to clarify that that isn’t where this post is going. I think 5E has a lot of fantastic ideas, and I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it to new players. The problem I have with it isn’t that I don’t like what it’s doing; it’s that I see a lot of great game design ideas lumbered by a conscious refusal to take them to their logical conclusion - or, in other words, it’s not that I think 5E goes too far, it’s that I think it doesn’t go far enough.

(Fair warning: a lot of this is going to be really jargon-heavy game design stuff that normal people probably don’t care about. That’s your cue to check out if tabletop RPG meta isn’t your cup of tea!)

To start off, there’s a concept in game design - applicable to both video games and tabletop games - called “mechanical engagement”. Basically, it’s what it sounds like: how and when the player is called upon to make rules-based decisions. Some games have high mechanical engagement, in the sense that players are given lots of rules-based “toys” to play with and expected to interact with them frequently; other games have low mechanical engagement, meaning that there are fewer rules-based “toys”, and fewer player-facing decisions about how to deploy them.

Moreover, in games that have roles or classes, different roles within the same game can offer different levels of mechanical engagement. It’s tempting to think of this in terms of low mechanical engagement = basic and low-powered, high mechanical engagement = advanced and high-powered, but this ain’t necessarily the case; you can see this phenomenon in action in the sphere of video games in, say, 2D fighters, or multiplayer online shooters. You have characters/roles with complicated and demanding execution, and characters/roles with simple and straightforward execution, and the former aren’t necessarily more powerful in practice, in spite of being more demanding to play.

The reason this happens is because a player’s preferred level of mechanical engagement is totally independent of any other axis of play (e.g., preferred role, preferred aesthetics, etc.) Some players like having lots of rules-based knobs and levers to play with, and they’ll gravitate to roles that will give them that even if there’s no actual benefit - i.e., even if it obliges them to work harder just to get to the same level as players in roles with lower mechanical engagement. Similarly, some players just want to press buttons and watch stuff explode - they prefer low mechanical engagement.

There’s nothing wrong with either preference, and one of the major perks of playing a tabletop RPG with class/role-based character creation is that it allows you to accommodate different preferences in terms of mechanical engagement within the same party. You can have players who want to juggle lists of special abilities as long as their arm, and players who just want to hit things with swords, and they can play at the same table - everybody wins. Again, remember that this is totally separate from wanting to play a “low powered” or “high powered” character; the level of mechanical engagement that a role demands is a different axis from how big its numbers are.

Now, one of the perennial issues of fantasy tabletop RPGs in general and D&D in particular is tying particular levels of mechanical engagement to particular role aesthetics. In many iterations of the game, if you want to play a role with high mechanical engagement, you have to chuck fireballs, and if you want to play a role with low mechanical engagement, you have to be a sword-slinging meat shield. A player who wants high mechanical engagement but also likes swords is liable to be told, both by the game’s text and by other players, that she’s Doing It Wrong - and so, for that matter, is a player who wants low mechanical engagement, but also wants to set stuff on fire with her brain.

(Incidentally, this is one of several areas where core-book 4E solves a real and recognised problem in the most hilariously unsubtle manner imaginable, by bashing every role into exactly the same level of mechanical engagement. Which is fantastic if that just happens to be your preferred keel, because now you can play and enjoy every role - and terrible if your ideal toybox is too much larger or smaller, because now every role is an equally bad fit for you.)

5E brings a couple of great ideas for solving this problem to the table:

1. It introduces a series of “tutorial levels”, where each class‘s abilities are introduced gradually over the levels 1-3, reducing entry barriers, leveling out the learning curve, and allowing folks to “try on” different levels of mechanical engagement more easily; and

2. It introduces system of templated archetypes whereby particular classes/roles can be “tuned” to different levels of mechanical engagement, making the same basic set of roles accessible to players with a broader range of preferences in terms of mechanical engagement - and, critically, the choice of template doesn’t have to be made until after the previously mentioned “tutorial levels” are complete.

Sounds great, right?

The problem is, it only applies to fighters and rogues and related classes. Clerics and wizards - i.e., the full-featured spellcasters - don’t get any “tutorial levels”, are obliged to choose their archetypes at first level, and all of their archetypes are about equally complicated - to the point that, for example, the lowest mechanical engagement cleric you can build has more rules-based toys you’re obliged to wrangle at any given level than the highest mechanical engagement fighter.

In other words, the game turns around and goes some distance out of its way to reinforce the very problem that this design pattern is meant to solve!

This pattern is repeated in several other places. For example, one of the long-standing disagreements among the fandom is whether D&D should primarily support epic, globe-trotting “high fantasy” or gritty, street-level “low fantasy” as its default tone. It’s as much a question of rules as it is of flavour text, so it’s hard to do both - but 5E gives it the old college try, which is a frankly fascinating decision. How does that play out?

Unconventionally, 5E does it based on character classes: you literally have some classes that are built out of high fantasy tropes, and some classes that are built out of low fantasy tropes, with the result that you can have characters who basically hail from totally different genres of fantasy fiction running around in the same party. This isn’t necessarily a bad idea; there are lots of inspirational sources that setup could describe - I mean, just look at The Lord of the Rings. If that’s not a prototypical case of high fantasy characters and low fantasy characters partying up, I’ll eat my hat.

This’d be another great opportunity for the archetype system to shine - but again, we see this obnoxious wall slamming down between “martial” and “magic” classes. This time it goes the other way: fighters and rogues default to low fantasy genre assumptions, and have access to archetype templates that can dial them up to high fantasy - but clerics and wizards default to high fantasy and don’t get anything to adjust that.

Tellingly, the high fantasy archetypes for fighters and rogues basically operate by bolting half a wizard to the side of their respective classes. You end up with a strange dynamic where some characters from a given piece of genre source material are valid inspirations, but not others - e.g., you can be Merlin, but not Lancelot; Gandalf, but not Legolas; Medea, but not Achilles. Again, we see this reactionary notion that only spellcasters are allowed to play in the big-kid sandbox; the game’s text openly acknowledges as much by flat-out stating that only full-progression spellcasters are relevant when determining which tiers of play a party can engage with. And again, the tools to fix that are right there; the game just doesn’t deign to pick them up and use them.

I could keep going, but I suspect I’ve harped on long enough that y’all get exactly where I’m coming from here. It’s like… these are not new problems. Maybe not all players care about them, but it’s nearly universally acknowledged that they exist, and it would have taken so little effort to address them - the game literally developed the perfect tools to do so, then didn’t use them. It drives me crazy to see a game come so close to what could have been a legitimately revolutionary take on the genre, then deliberately stop juuuuust short of the goal line.

Either explain it or don’t.

When authors include things that don’t fit within the real world–magic, time travel, anachronisms–there is an impulse to explain how it works. Which can be fantastic for worldbuilding, but if you don’t know what you’re talking about, it can make more problems than it solves.

Stephenie Meyer tried to explain some bizarre thing about chromosomes, and it made the biology of vampires and werewolves make no sense. Suspending disbelief worked better in that case before she tried to ground it in the real world.

Lemony Snicket, on the other hand, just has random anachronisms that are never explained, but because there’s nothing even close to resembling an attempt at an explanation, we can just shrug and go, okay, that’s how it works. The magic in Harry Potter seems to basically not be grounded in anything, but we can believe it within the context of the story because she doesn’t try to ground it in anything.

In Jim Butcher’s Codex Alera, on the other hand, he goes into a lot of magic theory, and it gives us a strong feeling of worldbuilding. There’s enough logically coherent explanation for it to feel grounded within itself.

It is possible to go too far (see: Orson Scott Card’s Xenocide and Children of the Mind) where the plot ends up so tied in the reader understanding intricately detailed scientific and pseudo-scientific minutiae that the story is incomprehensible without it.

Generally, though, if you’re going to make something up, either say it exists and leave it at that, or entirely figure out how it works. Halfway is always less believable than nothing at all.

not knowing you had dissociative identity disorder is

  • “Man it’s so embarrassing i’ve had this imaginary friend for so long.”
  • getting scared because you ‘woke up’ in a place you had no recollection of getting to
  • “I think i’m straight” “No wait i’m bi” “No i’m gay” “Maybe I’m transgender?”
  • “I hope today is the day I act more social!” / “I hope today I’m magically smarter like other times!”
  • “haha wow I’ve been daydreaming a lot about me interacting with my OC’s”
  • feeling The Switch™ happening and being like “What the fuck”
  • headaches 
  • so many headaches
  • to-do lists ranging from grocery shopping to brushing your teeth

feel free to add more