Stay close to me, don’t go away, I’m afraid of losing you Your hands, your legs, my hands, my legs, and our heartbeats are blending together
Let’s leave together, I’m ready now
↠ HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, YURI!!! ON ICE
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.
•cute domestic pictures on the mantel piece
•personal trinkets on the window ledges
•future projects scattered over the table
•clutter unashamedly collecting in the rooms where they spend all their time
•pictures of their family in every room
•a sense of security and privacy
•a home that they’re not obligated to share
•a home that’s entirely theirs
can we just talk and think abt monsters with mentally ill s/os
monsters who feed off of despair with their depressed s/o who they were drawn to originally for food but as they fed they fell in love but know that they can not last because their very existence in their human’s life adds to their depression and no matter how much they want to help their human recover they can never truly do that without leaving
monsters who want their humans to explain human social things but all they’ve got is the shrug emoji
monsters learning about stimming and lets their human pet them to stim
werewolves helping their s/os with anger issues let it all out through helping hunting and running
monsters who dont understand breakdowns and they get scared when their human shuts down on them and they end up making everything worse but afterward their human tells them about what happened and how they can help
late night anxiety cuddles where just being in their monster’s big warm arms makes them feel slightly better
monsters getting anxiety over losing their human and their human having to help them and reassure them
monsters being their human’s fp and not really getting what that means but theyre honored none the less