from within a book

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D&D Compilations Project: Clerics

[The third part of the Class Compilations Project, the Clerics!]

[Clerics are the hands of the gods, the medium between the divine and the material. Gods of every faith bless their clerics with divine power that takes shape in many forms known as domains, which make up the various subclasses listed above from the Player’s Handbook, Dungeon Master’s Guide, Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide, and Xanthar’s Guide to Everything!]

What is the D&D Compilation Project?

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chiron, the wounded healer

Originally posted by musichasalwayssavedme

The Chiron in Aries wound relates to your identity. Feeling like you are not worthy, that your qualities are not acknowledged and a fear that you have no value at all- all of these are indicators of an Aries Chiron. This is your silent wound: feeling unworthy and self-neglect, impotence of the self. This results in hypersensitivity to criticism, offended dignity and difficulty in asserting yourself. It also suggests physical abuse, wound, deformity and other issues.

The Chiron in Taurus wound relates to neglect. Feeling like you didn’t get enough of something (emotional, physical, material, mental, spiritual, etc), also expecting to receive more attention than you did, feeling unfulfilled and undernourished in some way- all of these are indicators of a Taurus Chiron. It all comes down to your sense of worth; a kind of void that won’t go away, and even if you try to fill it, you can’t as it seems like a dark hole. This is your silent wound: feeling neglected, in some way or another. Either because people don’t value you as much as you deserve to be; or because you’re expecting too much from them.

The Chiron in Gemini wound relates to a pain of doubting yourself, your ability to communicate clearly and feeling misunderstood. Feeling like you are not capable of speaking effectively, or that no one will listen to you or believe what you have to say- all of these are indicators of a Gemini Chiron. This is your silent wound. Even if you try to cover it up by emphasizing your mental capacities, you are very sensitive (psychologically) to what other people say.

The Chiron in Cancer wound relates to lack of nurture/ love. Feeling like you’ve been abandoned, or like you can’t form strong ties, personal protection and belonging issues, fearing challenges and seeking safety above all- these are indicators of a Cancer Chiron. It’s also very common for people with this placement to feel unworthy of love to some extent, and thus, always give more than what they get.

The Chiron in Leo wound relates to not being able to fully express the things that are within you. Feeling like people don’t give you the chance to shine, having a life that doesn’t stimulate your essence, not being able to feel joy at its fullest, not believing in your abilities, and not being recognized for your gifts and talents - all of these are indicators of a Leo Chiron. It all comes down to your self-expression; and this is your silent wound: lack of self-expression and hurting ego, in some way or another. Either because people don’t let you be yourself; they overlook your talents; or because you for some reason feel like you shouldn’t express yourself.

The Chiron in Virgo wound relates to compulsive behaviors fueled by perfectionism. Feeling like you can never do something perfectly, or that you are not good enough are indicators of this placement. It suggests anxiety, pressure and stress issues, uncontrollable urge to control everything around you/yourself as much as possible. Self-doubt is very common- you’re too critical at times. Your silent wound is the need to fix in order to make thing perfect.

The Chiron in Libra wound relates to hurtful relationships. Feeling like you trust the wrong people, getting hurt over and over, getting caught in a co-dependent relationship, unrequited love- all of these are indicators of a Libra Chiron. You may feel like people in general keep disappointing you, or maybe you feel like it’s you who are disappointing them. This is your silent wound: hurt when it comes to relationships. Either because they’re abusive or play with your feelings, or because they’ve made you cold and you don’t know how to trust anymore.

The Chiron in Scorpio wound relates to fear. It can have many manifestations, depending on which house it is placed: fear of loss, of the unknown, of persecution, confrontation, death or ever change. As Scorpio is also the sign of ‘power’, this position brings about many power issues, such as you being drawn to dangerous situations to feel empowered, or constant feeling like you’re out of control.

The Chiron in Sagittarius wound relates to feeling confined in a mundane existence. Wanting to break traditions or spiritual teachings, feeling like they have no deep wisdom, feeling like they can’t achieve glory, searching for the truth desperately - all of these are indicators of a Sagittarius Chiron. This is your silent wound:  a desperate need to find meaning, in some way or another. It’s common for people with Chiron in Sagittarius to feel like they are an eagle inside, but are tied and cannot fly. There’s a lingering fear that you can never be glorious or live life like an adventure.

The Chiron in Capricorn wound relates to not being recognized. Feeling like you are not heard, that your efforts are not acknowledged and a fear that no one will listen to you and recognize your value- all of these are indicators of a Capricorn Chiron. It all comes down to how you’re seen regarding your potential. This is your silent wound: feeling underappreciated, in some way or another. Even if people recognize what you have to offer, in your own mind there’s always a deep-rooted fear of failing people, not doing your best at something or not succeeding, which would imply an identity crisis.

The Chiron in Aquarius wound relates to feeling different. Social rejection, fear of large groups of people, a need to withdraw from the public- all of these are indicators of an Aquarius Chiron. You may feel like you don’t belong, or you don’t share the same interests with the people around you, so you feel alone, isolated. This is your silent wound: not fitting in, somehow. Either because you’re disconnected from the world, or because you feel like the world disappoints you.

The Chiron in Pisces wound relates to the pain of disconnection. Feeling like you’re not “whole”, you’re not who you’re supposed to be, or that you can’t come to terms with higher forces or even with humanity in general- all of these are indicators of a Pisces Chiron. You can lack faith in yourself, in others and in the universe. You may feel like you can’t quite understand how the world works, like you know God works in mysterious ways but you can’t fully accept this. You don’t trust your ability to survive.

by crystal melbourne | within the zodiac | these are excerpts from my upcoming book. pre-order it via e-mail at zodiacsignsblog@gmai.com

How Feyre’s Character Development Is Shown In The Covers Throughout The Series

I love how simply the covers of the ACOTAR series shows Feyre’s character development throughout the series. It’s mind blowing to be honest. 

You can see in ACOTAR how Feyre is standing straight. Although it could be said she’s standing upright for confidence during the last part of the novel, we know her stance could also show her complacence throughout the novel. Especially after reading the books and from the events that happens within ACOTAR. Her stance also looks stiff to an extent, showing how she is still submissive or under someone’s command. Furthermore, there is only half of her on the cover as if she’s trying to hide herself. The red in the background also indicate either her anger, loss, and/or death prior to reading the novel. The roses, obviously, fits with the title of Thorns and Roses but can also foreshadow Feyre and Tamlin’s relationship in the novel being like a rose: seemingly beautiful and sweet but, in honesty, is also harmful like the thorns of a rose. Her dress is also more conservative (?) (if you compare it to the other two in ACOMAF and ACOWAR) yet provocative (?). It covers most of her stomach and legs, showing how she was still insecure about herself and the only reasons she willingly used an outfit with a front that low is because she was either told to (although I have absolutely no judgement if she wore that willingly, she would work it just fine tbh haha). You could say her outfit is elegant (since it’s from Rhysand ofc) yet it gives off the vibe that she was made to wear it - something she is not use to given her awkward stance.

In a ACOMAF you could see how she is standing more fluidly on the side of the book. She is no longer stiff but looks more comfortable with her body. Her pose exerts confidence and strength, especially with her hand and the way it’s positioned above the wind as if she’s controlling it (which she probably is in some way if you think of Rhysand being the wind since he can fly etc., etc.). More of her is now shown on the cover as if she’s having the courage to step out of the book and show herself on the cover for what she is. Feyre’s hair blowing the way it is can show that she is in movement and could be fighting unlike her previous state in the Spring Court. Her outfit has also upgraded into more of an armour, showing that she is stronger now and fighting for herself compared to the beginning of ACOTAR when she was at the Spring Court. Furthermore, the armour could also indicate that she is working with someone else since we know from ACOTAR that the Spring Court does not have armours of the sort for females but only dresses (egh). The cover, once more, also fits with the title in accordance to the Mist and Fury part: misting is a skill Rhysand has (somewhat a foreshadow that Feyre’s mate might be Rhysand) and fury could indicate either Rhysand’s fury at the events that occurred Under the Mountain or Feyre’s fury at Tamlin showing his true self. Her tattoo on her left arm from Rhysand is also much more visible than her tattoo in the ACOTAR cover, as if she’s no longer trying to hide it like before but showing it off. The color blue is also known as reliable, calm, creative, intelligent, and maybe responsible (from a Google search I did). This foreshadows (EVEN MORE) about Feyre’s personality as we know she stopped painting for a given amount of time before starting again in the Night Court. The blue also indicates calm, intelligence, reliability and responsibility, all of the things Rhysand and Feyre are. Especially the reliability part foreshadows Feyre and Rhysand’s relationship as we know that she trusts him even though she denied it at first. The small city silhouette in the background can also show that she is in Velaris instead of the Spring Court where she only knows Tamlin’s home (palace?). 

NOW IN ACOWAR. LET ME JUST TALK ABOUT THE OUTFIT FIRST. Previously Feyre was wearing armour, as if she was an accomplice of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, working with them to take out Tamlin and Hybern. NOW, NOW IT’S A FUCKING DRESS THAT SHOWS SHE’S A HIGH LADY BUT STILL STRONG AND FIGHTING FOR HERSELF. The design (by the lovely @charliebowater ) practically exudes confidence, strength, and her ability to see what is wrong and right (especially with the eyes on her belt but that could also foreshadow Jurian since his eyeball was Amarantha’s ring). The glistening of the bottom of her dress could also represent starlight, connecting back to the Night Court and Starfall possibly. The position of her arms and the way she’s now showing off both hands and the tattoo shamelessly indicates her confidence with being a part of the Night Court and Rhysand’s Inner Circle. The way her hands are resting on her hips further proves my point of her growing confidence as she stands as if she’s ready to face anything. Also, her full body is now on the cover unlike in ACOTAR when only half of her was showing. This can be seen as her way of finally discovering and accepting her strengths and, once more, exuding confidence. She’s also holding an Illyrian blade, far different than before when she was only showing her hands in the ACOMAF cover. This shows how her abilities have furthered and that she could fight now, with a blade (cause we know her speciality is actually a bow) and with her powers (which is explained in the next sentence). The mist around her could show how her strengths in misting may be improving in the novel compared to when she was still first training with Rhysand and, maybe, her fire powers also since we can interpret this as smoke too. We already know she can control her water powers very well. The color green, after a Google search, portrays balance, harmony, nature but also envy. The balance and harmony of the green could be a foreshadowing of the ending of ACOWAR and how, possibly (hopefully, dear lord hopefully), the ending might be peace amongst Prythian once more. The nature part of the green could indicate the Spring Court and her return. However, the envy part of green, what I really think, is referred to Tamlin and his envy. I feel like he will end up finding out about Feyre being mated with Rhysand and he will be even more envious (pray to the Mother that Tamlin doesn’t do anything stupid like he already did). HER HAIR, again it’s blowing showing that everything around her might be in motion and she’s ready to take them down like she promised. The background also has mountains if you look close enough. This may be a foreshadow that Feyre and the Inner Circle may have to return to Under the Mountain once more to fix Prythian (this is making me extremely nervous). Finally, the title. Lord, Mother, I love Cassian so much please don’t let him die. The cover fits with the title of A Court of Wings and Ruin once more although not entirely: the wings part may be a foreshadowing (I’m sorry I repeat this stylistic feature so much) to, sadly, Cassian’s wings (although I still refuse, to believe it). The “ruins” part may be referring to how everything is falling apart just like the ending of the last book but, this time, it might be the actual ruin of the Spring Court and Hybern. Maybe even Under the Mountain since there are mountain silhouettes in the background. 

Well, that’s my interpretation of the covers. I felt the need to do this the moment the ACOWAR cover came out. I noticed her stance change and the way she brings herself. I couldn’t resist myself. 

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                                             “She’d felt it before,
                                              she felt it now: the pull to fall in with him,
                                              to fall into him,
                                              to lose her sense of self.”

A commission for @namidragons for their Eagle’s Heir MC, Hector!! I’m so glad that I got to draw them, I especially enjoyed working on the lineart *_* Thank you!

Commission info

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In the movies they end up together even when the only hope was “no it can’t be”. In the movies, against all odds and all the differences they find the way, or the way finds them. In the movies, in the end everything falls neatly into place.

In real life you won’t even know if all you had was that one, missed, chance. In real life the little wins only serve to lead you further astray. In real life the end was obvious to everybody else, even though they encouraged and supported you all the way down.

Memories played back like home videos, skipping with hard won skill over those shaky parts, slowly become standalone plays, full of colorful what-ifs like promising sunsets. And the whole life turns into a movie set, putting the same worn masks on new random actors, the scenery a curtain where those old roles will create satisfying shadows of another life. Because life within life is also life. Kind of.

I would still take you back, 8 months later and I will still fall to my knees in tears by your demand. I can not believe it, I can not make sense in my head of why I would do such a thing. I guess, I truly do love you, I want to be with you. I shouldn’t, but I do. You just seem to be right, you’re always there even when I can’t see you, I can feel you. So maybe that’s a sign, you know me, I’m always looking for signs and universal things but maybe the biggest sign is the one deep within.
—  hope
Third Time’s the Charm

They’re 14, the first time MC asks Damien out.

Damien still went by “Dahlia” back then. Still dressed in pretty sundresses and sensible black Mary Janes, forced to be his mother’s little dressup doll.

Even at that age, MC already refused to answer to his birth name, and Dahlia had always admired him greatly for it.

(Through countless and increasingly irritated calls of his name, he’d sat convincingly oblivious, even when his mother’s eyes were wide, her nostrils flaring, her fists clenched.

Miles Christopher Young, you answer me right now!

He’d been grounded the entire winter vacation of their ninth grade, and still he stubbornly refused to acknowledge his name until, finally, his parents and teachers alike had decided this was a war no longer worth fighting, and had finally agreed to start calling him MC.)

They’re together for all of high school, practically attached at the hip.

Dahlia is the first one MC comes out to about being pansexual.

MC is the one that buys Dahlia’s first pack of pads, when he’s shut himself in his bedroom, crying and refusing to let anyone into his room, too ashamed to tell his mother.

They pose together for countless prom pictures, and MC gives Dahlia a corsage with a single, beautiful white rose.

(Innocence and purity; charm and innocence.)

But then they’re 18, and both leaving the nest for parts unknown, attending university on opposite ends of the country.

They try to make it work. They try so hard. But in the end, the stress, the distance, the workload, it’s too much. The phone calls and texts falter away, from daily to weekly to monthly, until quite suddenly it’s been three months and they realize they can’t remember why they’re still together at all.

And so they quietly cut ties and go their separate ways.

A clean cut, simple and easy, and so much more painful than either of them are willing to admit.


They’re 27 before they see each other next, and MC almost doesn’t recognize him at first.

Not that Damien can blame him.

Damien’s been on T for almost a year now, and has done away with his birth name for good.

MC smiles, wide and bright and joyful, telling Damien how proud he is of him, and Damien wonders for a dazed moment why he’d ever let this beautiful man go.

(He doesn’t tell MC about how, on some days, he had been the only one that kept Damien from falling apart at the seams.

He’d remember MC’s bullheadedness, sitting peacefully at his desk and reading a book as their furious fifth grade teacher called his name over and over again until finally she’d given in and said, with an exhausted sigh, “MC.”

And he’d looked up with the sweetest, most innocent smile.

“Yes ma’am?”)

They fall back in with each other so easily, it’s like nothing had ever changed, like they’re still the two goofy children who had imprinted upon each other on the first day of elementary school and had never let go.

They aren’t, of course.

They’re adults now, and reality isn’t quite so rose-tinted.

Damien is a single father, victim of an emotionally abusive transphobe of a fiancé who had walked out on him when Lucien was just a year old.

And MC is freshly widowed, still so lost and alone after losing Alex, clueless on how to be there for little 5-year-old Amanda when she wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying for her papa.

But maybe that’s why the universe had brought them back together.

Because they were both drowning, and only the two of them could bring each other back up.

Three months after being reunited, MC shows up at Damien’s door with a red face and a bouquet of elegant white camellias and charming little yellow cowslips dotted throughout.

(Perfected loveliness; youth and healing.)

The next four years are perfection.

They take holidays to the beach and weekend trips to museums and art galleries.

Damien gives Amanda her first camera and teaches her how to use it.

MC teaches Lucien how to ride a bike and picks him up when he punches classmates who make fun of his papa. 

(Officially, MC scolds Lucien harshly for these instances and grounds him for a week.

Unofficially, he takes the little punk out for ice cream and praises him for looking out for his dad.

“Papa,” Lucien corrects him one day, and MC looks at him in confusion.

“Damien is papa,” Lucien explains. “You’re dad.”

And his voice is so matter-of-fact, as if he’s stating a simple truth of the universe, like the sun being yellow and snow being cold.

MC most definitely does not cry.)

But then, things start falling apart, like they always do.

The endearing little quirks they love about each other become irritating, the fights louder and more vicious.

Damien and MC both have their own problems, so many things to work through, so many hurts to heal from.

And maybe…maybe they’re not the right ones to help each other out after all.

Maybe they’re just hurting each other more by being together.

The second break-up is, if possible, even more painful than the first.

Amanda becomes withdrawn - why bother getting attached to anyone if they’re just going to leave you in the end? The only one she opens up to is her father, and to him she clings, like a baby koala. Because she’s already lost two parents. She can’t bear to lose a third.

Lucien becomes harder, more angry. He was 3 when MC had come into his life, and can’t remember a time without him. The longing for his dad is like a hurricane, a wild, fierce ache he doesn’t know what to do with. So he turns it outwards - to students who sneer about his weird last name and adults who call his papa she and her. But he never turns that snarling, explosive anger on his papa. Never on Damien.


They’re 39 when MC and Amanda move to quiet little Maple Bay, and it’s a few days before they actually become aware of each other’s presence.

Amanda is hanging out with some of her new friends (a pair of girls from her class, both named Emma), and MC, with nothing better to do, is at the Coffee Spoon, a nice little cafe within a few minutes’ walk from their new house.

He’s got a book open in front of him, and is sipping at his piping hot chai latte when the bell over the door gives a chime to announce a new customer.

He doesn’t look up as a pair of teenagers walks in talking about something or other, and he doesn’t notice how one of them freezes in his tracks, staring at MC with a breathless shock.

His friend stops too, and turns to look at him with confusion.

“You okay, dude?” asks his friend, Ernest, but he doesn’t reply.

“Dad?” he chokes out, voice just barely above a whisper.

And Ernest turns to follow his gaze, expecting to see Damien Bloodmarch.

But the man Lucien is staring at is short and broader in the shoulders. He has messy red curls and freckles sprinkled like cinnamon across the bridge of his nose. He’s engrossed in his book.

“You high or something, dude?” asks Ernest, but Lucien doesn’t reply.

“Dad!” he calls again, louder this time, as he walks up to the man sitting at the table, and his voice is maybe a little desperate, maybe a little vulnerable.

The man looks up, and Ernest sees his expression cycle through a million different emotions in the span of three seconds.

Confusion, bewilderment, dawning realization, tearfulness, joy, love.

He gets to his feet, pulling Lucien into a crushing embrace.

And the teen may be half a head taller than him, but he folds into the embrace with something akin to relief, like a tension Ernest hadn’t even known existed finally being released from his shoulders.

He’s quiet, almost docile, in a way that’s so completely foreign, Ernest is rooted to his spot.

They exchange a few quiet words, the stranger wiping what look like tears from Lucien’s cheeks.

Then, they pull apart, and Lucien watches the man leave with longing, watches him cross the street and head towards the Bloodmarch residence.

He doesn’t snap out of it until the man is completely out of view, after which he proceeds to ignore Ernest’s questions in favor of dragging him to that house that used to belong to the Wilson family until they’d moved last week.

He pulls out a key that Ernest hadn’t even noticed the other man give him, and let them into the house, where they sat watching television while they waited for…something.

An hour or two later, the front door finally opens, and a pretty older girl with healthy dark skin and a sweet, freckled face walks in.

She stops short when she sees the two strangers in the living room, and looks like she’s about to take on a fighting stance before Lucien quickly unfolds from his position on the couch and approaches her cautiously.

(He, better than anyone, knows not to underestimate her sweet and unassuming appearance.

She’s been taking kickboxing since she was 6, and had been formidable even then.

He shudders to think how dangerous she must be now.)

“Calm down, Manda, it’s just me,” Lucien says by way of greeting, and her expression morphs into confusion.

“Who is “me”?” she asks, eyes narrowed.

“What, don’t recognize your own baby brother?” he asks, tone teasing, and she gasps.

“LUCY!” she shrieks, tackling him, and Ernest would probably be laughing at the ridiculous nickname if he wasn’t just so darned confused.

It takes about ten minutes for her to get her squealing and tears back under control.

“Where’s dad?” she asks. “Where do you live? Can you take me there? I wanna see pops! Is he home from work yet? How-”

“They’re busy, Manda,” Lucien finally interrupts, and Amanda’s eyes light up.

“’Busy’?” she asks, her smile taking on a sly edge, and Lucien huffs and rolls his eyes, pushing her face away from how annoyingly close it was to his own.

Talking,” he stresses. “Busy talking.”

And Amanda’s smile takes on a softer cast.

“About time,” she says. And her voice is hopeful as she asks, “Do you…do you think they’ll…?”

She doesn’t say the words, worried that vocalizing them will break the fragile hope that’s woven tight around her heart.

Because she wants this. More than anything she’s ever wanted in her life. Wants it so much she can barely breathe, so much she doesn’t know how she’ll survive if it doesn’t happen.

And Lucien, for all of his cynicism and jadedness, wants it just as fiercely as she does.

“God I hope so.”


It doesn’t take MC 3 months to ask Damien out this time.

It’s been nine years since their fragile happiness had broken apart, and in that time, he’s done a lot of thinking.

A lot of learning and growing and regretting.

And now that they’ve found each other again, he’s not going to let go a third time.

They sit and talk for a long, long time.

They talk about their lives, their hopes, their problems, their children, their love.

They talk about everything that had gone wrong the last two times, and they talk about whether they’re willing to give it one last shot.

After five hours of talking things over and working things out, they decide to take some time apart to think things over.

MC goes home with a spring in his step and hope in his heart.

Amanda and Lucien, as well as the other boy from the coffee shop whose name MC never got, are slumped over each other on the sofa, fast asleep while an episode of Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers murmurs quietly in the background.

With an exasperated smile, MC turns off the television and tucks a blanket around the teens.


Lucien returns home the next day just before noon with a kink in his neck and a smile on his lips.

He badgers his father for the next hour or two about what he’s going to do about his relationship with MC until Damien finally gets fed up and throws him out of the house to go and “bother someone else for a bit.”

Lucien obviously takes this as a good sign, because he’s wearing a satisfied grin across his cheeks.

Damien wants to be annoyed at how easily his son can seem to read him.

But he doesn’t have any room in his heart to feel anything but excitement, happiness, love, optimism.

When his doorbell rings a few hours later, he opens it excitedly to find MC standing there, hiding behind an enormous bouquet of dahlias.

(Dignity and elegance; commitment and everlasting bonds.)

And Damien can’t help but think back to that innocent little girl more than three decades ago, with her pretty little sundresses and sensible black Mary Janes, with her scraped knees and fingers covered in paint.

He wonders if she’d be proud of the person he’d become.

He sure hopes so.

if i could i would walk
on your steps
just to learn how to love
the world underneath my feet

if i could i would see
where your eyes lead
just to learn how to catch
the details that go unseen

if i could i would hear
the melodies that make you dream
just to learn how to love
the soul within you

—  k.m
I found it really frustrating that, even now that I was being upfront about what the issue was, some people still found reasons to doubt it. But that’s the industry. It’s an aspect of this job that I have to deal with, and I’m trying to accept it. The thing is, I love performing. I love the buzz. I don’t want to do any other job. That’s why my anxiety is so upsetting and difficult to explain. It’s this thing that swells up and blocks out your rational thought processes. Even when you know you want to do something, know that it will be good for you, that you’ll enjoy it when you’re doing it, the anxiety is telling you a different story. It’s a constant battle within yourself.