i will ensure you stay alive above all else. even if what i do to make it happen is horrendous. even if it violates all your wishes or moral principles. even if you can never look at me the same way again, even if you hate me for it. because at least if you hate me it means youre alive
Story idea: the local Academy of Magic has an Archaeology Department. They have an ongoing feud with the Necromancy Department because necromancers keep stealing bones from the archaeological lab, and archaeologists keep interrupting necromancy rites to ask the undead about their funerary rites.
The two departments also keep arguing over which one of them has the highest count of “ooops-found-an-ancient-evil-thing-and-almost-destroyed-the-world”.
Imagine that the paleontology department invites them to do a ritual, and the whole academy is preparing for Jurassic Park, but instead they are simply being asked to revive Nautilus or something
“ So, just to be clear, you are NOT trying to rise any big carnivorous creature, right?”
“Nah, man, relax, we are not stupid! We are just asking you to revive the molluscs that were in these little shells for some minutes. Just enought to make some observations. Come on, we even made an aquarius.”
“Well, I mean, I guess we can give permission for that…”
“Alright, YOU >points at archeology professor< Stop digging up things, and YOU >points at Necromancer professor> stop bringing them back to life. You have gutted the budget for capital repairs to this campus for the next six years, already!”
The Addams Family renting out rooms in their huge mansion cheaply to broke college students.
The students digging it because the craziness and the bugs are pretty much the same as any other dorm house. Also, Morticia and Gomez treat them all like visiting cousins, not like tenants to abuse and exploit.
One of the tenants is a creative writing major and Gomez and Morticia house them up in the tower because of the quiet and the inspiring view
They’re supposed to be working on a typical coming-of-age story but after living with the Addams for just a week the project is becoming a horror-Gothic-romance
They go to their room after classes one day and find Thing correcting the grammar errors in the manuscript with a red pen
and yeah, the students pay roughly market value for their rooms, but that doesn’t stop gomez from shouting “capital idea!” and handing them wads of cash when they tell him about their weekend plans or what they’re researching, so they basically end up living there for free
In the same vein, half the them have to turn into exceptional fencers, because Gomez just doesn’t give a shit, and if he sees you in the library, its fucking Sword Fighting Time.
Fester and Pugsley find out one of the college students is trying to get into chemistry and woo boy, there has never been a faster study of how to counter various acidic chemical reactions due to “water” balloons in campus history.
Morticia and Grammy are keeping the horticulturalists on their toes with their Black Tulip/Rose hybrids, which can flick their barbs a foot away from their stem system. But it’s fine, one of the kids has managed to breed Aloe with the anti venom.
Lurch makes sandwiches for everyone who’s too much of a coward for Grammy’s cooking. Any music major will find him looming over them, utterly stone faced as they practise until they finish, when he’ll smile, and slowly applaud.
And the spookiest thing of all
Wednesday and Thing will find your thesis. They will critique it in every way imaginable.
I especially love the idea of Gomez spotting a student in the library, throwing a sword at a startled student, shouting, “En garde!” and lunging at him/her with a sword of his own.
Student (later in life), when asked how she jumps from quietly doing research to handling a sudden influx of ER cases so quickly and easily, says, “When you have to snap out of deep concentration on biochem to fight for your life then get back to biochem without losing your train of thought…you learn or you die.”
And you know how chatty Gomez is when he fights, he’d probably help more students work through creative blocks via swordplay than any education counselor in a stuffy little office.
Gomez Addams as the embodiment of the Rubber Duck Method for struggling students via surprise swordplay is directly on brand.
And I firmly believe that long-term residents who finish their degrees suddenly, mysteriously, find that their student loans have been paid off. The family attends every single graduation ceremony and claps and cheers for “their” students as boisterously as any parent. They make a particular point of doing so for the ones who have no other family in attendance.
Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.
I feel like witches are sedentary and wizards are migratory. A witch has a home, a cauldron, herbs, you go to them with your problem. A wizard wanders, disappears, shows up at inconvenient times to fix nothing. am i making sense
some good theories in the notes but I choose to believe those are made by a village or perhaps king as an artificial home, to attract and keep a wizard. like a beehive
While artificially built towers do attract wild wizards a wizard will naturally build their own tower as they enter the later stage of their life cycle. For the first couple hundred years of their lives wizards are extremely mobile and may travel almost anywhere in the world or even beyond. A tower usually begins as a workshop which the wizard returns to during their migration in order to store trinkets and artifacts which they collect during their travels. As the collection outgrows the available space in the workshop a combination of the concentration of volatile magical energy and the wizards natural desire to build secret passageways causes them to begin expanding the workshop. This usually starts with basic "bigger on the inside" magic but due to constraints around energy usage for sustained large scale spacetime warping they will eventually turn to more traditional methods of building. There are some documented cases of wizards whose workshops expanded outward instead of upwards, resulting in labyrinth structures rather than the more traditional tower. It is still unclear what environmental pressure causes these divergent structures. As the wizard ages and their exploratory phase winds down their travels will focus on a progressively more narrow subset of arcane knowledge until they find one secret of the universe complex enough to prompt their transition into the final stage of the wizard lifestyle. By this point they will almost certainly have a fully fledged tower or have settled into one they've found already existing. Their desire to travel is generally severely reduced by this point and outside of quests to discover certain highly specific items related to their studies it's possible that they might not leave their tower for months or years at a time. In some cases they may begin this phase several times if the secret they started pursuing is less challenging or less fundamental to the operations of the universe than expected. When they do find their final subject of study and find the answers they sought, they will finally reach the end of the wizard life cycle, either via death caused by hubris, merging with a larger consciousness, ascendence to a different plane or to godhood, or metamorphosis into a litch. Other wizards may sometimes occupy the abandoned towers of a former wizard but most will move on in order to build their own before entering into these later stages. Very rarely a particularly social variety of wizard may build several connected towers and share resources, these are called schools and over time they will tend to attract a large number of younger and weaker wizards seeking shelter.
Absolutely brilliant analysis of wizards and their migratory patterns through the ages. I can personally verify that this is accurate, and you may now consider this properly peer reviewed and accepted.
Yeah I saw the lovecraftian horrors and didn’t succumb to madness. What- no I’m not a cultist, James. For Christ’s sake. What you’re forgetting my friend is that HP Lovecraft wasn’t a flexible man. His brain simply wasn’t stretchy enough to take it all in. I however, have short term memory issues. Flexibility is the name of the game when you can’t remember if you ate lunch or not. What’s the size of the universe? Big. You knew that already, James. Come on now. You don’t need to witness the terrifying ocean at the base of the entirety of reality itself to know that. Pass the brandy.
During a Eldritch Horrors based tabletop RPG my character was a young dandy who wasn't particularly interested in all this monster mystery stuff but his father (my brother's character) was a researcher who WAS very into it, so Bertie went along to make sure the old man didn't get into too much trouble. It was your average Eldritch Horrors RPG in that you don't make your characters with the expectation that they will survive for very long, both the game itself and the genre are very intent on turning your characters inside out, driving them insane, and blowing them up in no particular order.
The thing was, everything in this nightmare hellscape just seemed to keep coming up Bertie because the man was too stupid to realize what genre he was in. Every time he had to roll for a sanity check whenever he saw something crazy, the dice treated him so well that he just... didn't get it. Gee that sure is a funny costume. There's something wrong with that dog. These mean guys in stupid hats are trying to hurt that young lady, we can't have that! I had not built him this way, his intelligence stats weren't even that bad, random chance just made it so that this man was living a scooby doo adventure while everyone else was being consumed by The Horrors.
The final straw was at the end of an adventure when Bertie escaped from the cultist headquarters by breaking out through the mansion's front window on a motorcycle with a hot rescued sacrificial maiden clinging to his back and leading the cultists on a merry chase through the hedge maze while the other adventurers escaped. His sanity score? HIGHER than when the adventure had begun. He had found the whole experience quite thrilling and felt very good about life in general!
Bertie retired from adventuring to marry the maiden he rescued and care for his aging father and delight and bemuse his friends at the gentleman's club with stories of his 'wacky' adventures. I didn't want to risk breaking his ridiculous lucky streak.
You can also deal with eldritch beings by just not looking to hard. Don't attempt to take in every detail and let yourself get distracted by random shiny things nearby.
day nine of @/pinksplace & @/wildflowersandvibranium galentine's collab <3
guy gardner x fem! reader (+ surprise cameo)
He’s already practising the apology in his head, mentally preparing to deal with your sad stare, the disappointment that you’d try your absolute best to hide. He’d promised to be home by Valentine’s Day, but as usual, the galaxy seemed particularly inclined to fuck him over at every available opportunity.
You’d be understanding, a hero yourself, you’d often had to cancel plans at the last minute. Still, that didn’t erase the hurt that often came with those sacrifices.
The front door’s kicked open with more force than intended, making him wince and freeze when it bangs against the wall and disturbs the peace of your quiet apartment.
Keeping up with Earth’s time was practically impossible in the endlessly dark void of space, and it wasn’t until he’d re-entered Earth’s atmosphere, taking in the silent and deserted streets, that Guy realised how late he was.
A few seconds pass as he floats inside, not wanting to risk heavy footsteps on the tiled floors, as he dims the glow from the ring, and Guy thinks he’s safe, until he hears a soft grumble from the blanket-concealed lump on the couch.
He freezes again, still not having perfected the apology he’d expected to give in a few more hours and fruitlessly hopes you’re still asleep. “Guy? Honey, s’that you?” Fondness squeezes his heart at the sound of your sleepy voice as he watches you emerge from your self-imposed cocoon. It’s nearly enough to make him forget your admittedly worrying reaction to hearing someone all but break into your apartment, but Guy knows to pick his battles, and getting into a fight over his worry for your safety after he’s been away so long is not at the top of his list of priorities.
“M’sorry, didn’t wanna wake you.” He murmurs, closing the distance, leaning down to kiss your forehead before he’s suddenly reminded of the box in his arms with a ribbon hastily stuck atop.
“No, I’m glad you did, was waiting for you.” Guilt wrenches his heart once more as you rub the sleep from your eyes, reaching for the small lamp on the table beside the couch. Just when Guy thinks he couldn’t feel worse, he finally sees the fluffy pink blankets and teddy bears you’d set up for what should have been your Valentine’s night in, candles, chocolates and his favourite beer decorating the coffee table.
“I’m so sorry, baby. The guardians—” You shake off his apology with a small, understanding smile.
“You’re here now, that’s what matters.” Your grin widens, stars in your eyes as you take in the large box he’s practically hugging, “Is that for me?”
His chest puffs out, his apologetic demeanour replaced by cockiness as he brandishes the gift, placing the box in your lap. “Course it is, had to get the best gift ever to prove I’m the best partner in the galaxy.”
You giggle a little, “You are just so cute.”
Guy’s cheeks flush pink, betrayed by pale, freckled skin as he grumbles, “You’re the only one allowed to say that.”
Whatever your undoubtedly teasing reply would have been, Guy’ll never know because suddenly there’s a snuffle from the box and you freeze. Eyes wide, you stare in awe at the box before looking up at Guy in disbelief, “You didn’t…”
“Open it up and find out.” He smirks, nearly vibrating in victorious anticipation as he awaits your reaction.
The box is too large for a cat, a puppy, then, you conclude, reaching to lift the lid with near reverence. Dropping it to the side, you’re suddenly overwhelmed with love as little black eyes peer curiously up at you. “Oh. My. God.” You squeal quietly, mindful of potentially sensitive ears, as you carefully reach your hand out, letting the little creature sniff your fingers curiously.
“Mrrrr?” Suddenly, it’s bumping its little face into your hand excitedly, and you’re reaching into the box, lifting the sturdy body into your arms. You get a brief glance at the pink collar adorning its neck, Jeff, sparing a judgmental glance at Guy for the name, before your attention is captured once more by the adorable little shark creature wriggling in your arms.
“Aren’t you just the cutest little thing ever? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!” You coo, lifting him up to nuzzle your nose against Jeff’s snout.
“I thought I was the cutest.” Guy mumbles, but you pay him no mind, too enraptured with the baby, excitedly wagging his tail at your words, chirping before licking your face.
“Found him all alone on some backwater planet. Little man followed me when I tried to leave, thought he could keep you company when I’m off planet.” Your partner explains, coming to sit beside you on the couch, throwing an arm over your shoulders as the newest member of your family paws at the fluffy blankets curiously.
“I love him.” You whisper, eyes never leaving the little shark as you lean into Guy’s touch.
“Not as much as you love me, though, right?”
You take a second too long to answer, side-eyeing him as he squawks. “I’m kidding, I love you the most, honey, promise.” Just as you're about to lean up and kiss him, Guy’s suddenly headbutted by an overzealous shark with legs, Jeff staring up at him innocently before smacking Guy in the face with his tail fin when Jeff turns to you, demanding all your attention, like that wasn’t an intentional cock block.
“Oi, you little shit—”
No sooner have the words passed his lips than you are gasping, cupping your hands over where you believe Jeff’s ears are as you scowl at him, “Guy! He’s just a baby!” And suddenly, he’s back in the doghouse as you stand, Jeff in toe as you shuffle towards the bedroom.
It’s not until he watches the damn mutant shark thing take his place in your bed, his place curled up in your arms, that Guy realises he’s severely miscalculated in bringing the little beast home. Jeff coos, burrowing into your side, and it’s a cute enough sight that Guy feels a little of his resentment ease, a little.
Just when he’s reminded of how alone the little creature had been when Guy had found him, the little shark turns to look over at him with what Guy swears is a victorious little smirk before snuggling back into your chest, and all pity evaporates.
I love the idea of dead gods. Not in the sense of “hey i killed something supernaturally strong” but in the sense of “i killed it and it’s still a god.” It is still worshipped. prayers are still answered. miracles are performed in its name, even as it lies pierced by a thousand swords and burning with chemical fire. even as it drifts through vacuum, decapitated and bleeding molten rock. in cosmic spite of being shot through each eye and hurled into a plasma reactor, it still radiates the power of the divine in a way that primitive death cannot smother. the nature of godchild is not so simple as to be tied to the mortality, or immortality, of any living being.
I’d like to think the reason why Mages live in towers is just by accident.
Mages live in normal houses, but their magic does weird stuff to their home and stretches the house up into a tower. It’s also why powerful mages tend to have really big hats and overstretched robes.
This could also extend to why Mages don’t wear metal armour; it’ll just stretch and grow and get too heavy to use. Cloth is a safe option, and they can just cut away the extra fabric.
This is also why witches tend to favor cats as familiars.
Cats may pick and choose when to be stretchy, which both makes them naturally immune to magical stretch effects and and fantastic at insulating their master’s environment against any unintended environmental magi-warp.
Which is why the only examples of non-streched mage housing are all _witch’s huts._
i think that killing a dragon should have catastrophic nuclear-fallout level environmental consequences tbh. their blood should scorch and wither the earth with fire and poison, the toxic fumes released as they decay should choke the land and all nearby living creatures, and the entire landscape where they fell should be transformed into a blighted wasteland where bleached leviathan bones loom upwards out of the ground as a warning that can be seen from miles away, the boundary markers of an exclusion zone.
i also think that it would be wonderfully ironic if those who sought the fame and glory of the title of 'dragonslayer' only ended up with the bitter, enduring reminder of the devastation they're responsible for. this is not a place of honor. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here.
Can't they be both? They're nuclear fallout to everything else, but a nutritious whalefall to Creatures of Darkness. Things swarm a dragon corpse that aren't meant for the mortal plane but at least they eventually clean it all up, maybe after a few centuries. Not quick enough for people to notice that it's a good thing.
Reminded of Game of Thrones, like GRRM subverting various fantasy tropes.
I had thought of nuclear *weapons* as a dragon analogy (riders as nuclear armed bomber pilots, dragon wars as mutually assured destruction), but I see how problems with nuclear power also work
As for a dragon's hoard, nuclear scientists worry that warnings at a nuclear waste repository would be taken as advertising buried treasure, ironically drawing them closer when you want to keep them away (far in the future if people no longer understand current language)
So y’all know the classic edge trope of “my blade cannot be sheathed until it has tasted blood”? What if a magic sword that has that requirement, except it’s sort of inverted. A sword that, instead of being inhabited by an evil spirit which once awakened cannot be lulled back to sleep except by blood sacrifice, was inhabited by a benevolent spirit who would not allow the sword to be drawn unless bloodshed were the only possible solution. A sword whose power could never be misused because it would only allow itself to be used in situations where it was justified. What about a Paladin who spends their entire journey fighting with a sheathed sword, incapacitating but never killing or maiming. The party believes that the Paladin has taken an oath of no killing, until they face the big villain. And it is in that moment, and that moment alone, that the sword will allow itself to be drawn.
A magic sword you inherited, a noble lineage you come from, and an evil king that you can fight. What's the problem? The goddess explicitly told you "You aren't my chosen one."
Most people are capable of learning magic, yet magic schools remain incredibly exclusive, denying entry to all but a select few students every year. You never got into any of the schools, yet you still managed to learn some magic on your own, much to the horror of any "proper" mage.
A witch is a magic user with more focus on medicine and the body and a wizard is a magic user with more focus on like physics and academia. I don’t know what dingus made up one day that they’re just the 2 magic genders, that sounds stupid
I feel like witches are sedentary and wizards are migratory. A witch has a home, a cauldron, herbs, you go to them with your problem. A wizard wanders, disappears, shows up at inconvenient times to fix nothing. am i making sense
some good theories in the notes but I choose to believe those are made by a village or perhaps king as an artificial home, to attract and keep a wizard. like a beehive
While artificially built towers do attract wild wizards a wizard will naturally build their own tower as they enter the later stage of their life cycle. For the first couple hundred years of their lives wizards are extremely mobile and may travel almost anywhere in the world or even beyond. A tower usually begins as a workshop which the wizard returns to during their migration in order to store trinkets and artifacts which they collect during their travels. As the collection outgrows the available space in the workshop a combination of the concentration of volatile magical energy and the wizards natural desire to build secret passageways causes them to begin expanding the workshop. This usually starts with basic "bigger on the inside" magic but due to constraints around energy usage for sustained large scale spacetime warping they will eventually turn to more traditional methods of building. There are some documented cases of wizards whose workshops expanded outward instead of upwards, resulting in labyrinth structures rather than the more traditional tower. It is still unclear what environmental pressure causes these divergent structures. As the wizard ages and their exploratory phase winds down their travels will focus on a progressively more narrow subset of arcane knowledge until they find one secret of the universe complex enough to prompt their transition into the final stage of the wizard lifestyle. By this point they will almost certainly have a fully fledged tower or have settled into one they've found already existing. Their desire to travel is generally severely reduced by this point and outside of quests to discover certain highly specific items related to their studies it's possible that they might not leave their tower for months or years at a time. In some cases they may begin this phase several times if the secret they started pursuing is less challenging or less fundamental to the operations of the universe than expected. When they do find their final subject of study and find the answers they sought, they will finally reach the end of the wizard life cycle, either via death caused by hubris, merging with a larger consciousness, ascendence to a different plane or to godhood, or metamorphosis into a litch. Other wizards may sometimes occupy the abandoned towers of a former wizard but most will move on in order to build their own before entering into these later stages. Very rarely a particularly social variety of wizard may build several connected towers and share resources, these are called schools and over time they will tend to attract a large number of younger and weaker wizards seeking shelter.