☽ ☥ ☾

We had a campaign in D&D where we assembled a steampunk-ish time machine. After many sessions travelling through time, uncovering mysteries and learning harsh lessons about changing history, we had to stop a time-travelling cult from destroying the gods, and therefore the world. We failed.

Our machine crashed, we were stranded earlier than we had ever been able to travel. We found the Gods, but only a few of them were present - it was as if some had never existed. Then we realised - we had to become those Gods. Our party was entirely divine (Cleric, Paladin, Avenger, Invoker), and each of us was a worshipper of a god who had been unmade - and we were the only people in existence with enough knowledge of the forgotten deities to assume their roles.

But two of the players were worshippers of Io (in his twin forms of Tiamat and Bahamut, who would of course form later after Io’s ‘death’), and only one could become Io. The other would have to be the un-created Asmodeus.

So the most just, honourable and dedicated Lawful Good paladin I’ve ever seen roleplayed became the god of tyranny and evil. If he hadn’t, the gods would never have defeated the primordials, and the world would never have been completed.

In our setting, Asmodeus is every bit the epitome of evil you would expect him to be. Nobody but the gods who abide his presence know him as otherwise. He adheres to his role because he knows he has to - and that in doing so, the world can exist. He can never tell anyone his duty, and no-one who knows can ever discuss it.

In the farthest recesses of the Nine Hells, in a chamber sealed tighter than any other in existence is a pocketwatch of finest gnome craft with a photo of his family in it - his wife, son, and little baby girl.

you can read more about it here, and here- this excerpt sums up what information Hum will send: 

It tells the user what sites/apps you’re going on, for how long you’re on them, and WHERE YOU ARE ON AN UPDATING MAP.

So you know if you’re in an abusive household and use sites like tumblr to escape and talk to friends, you could be cut off from that.

i cannot and will not let people forget that what a feeling blessed the world with this vine

Satan wears the red suit and the hat and the boots, if awkwardly (those cloven hooves, don'tchaknow). 

The elves stand well away, but he’s hardly bothered by that, casually waiting on a throne that’s far more cheerful and composed of significantly less bone than the one he’s used to. The children are hesitant at first, until a little girl marches up, sans-parents, and plops herself on his knee, looking up at him with the set jaw of someone who isn’t interested in this farce.

“I want a pony,” she says with a roll of her eyes. She’s no more than nine. He arches an eyebrow “Do you?” he asks. She scoffs.

“Tch, no, but you’re just a man in a suit, it’s not like you can’t get me what I want.” He smiles at her assertiveness and steeples his fingers, careful not to jostle her from her perch. “Try me.” She narrows her eyes at him, studying his inscrutable face before folding her arms. “There’s a bully at my school, and I want him to go away,” she said. His eyebrow arched a little higher and he tilted his head. “And if I do this, I believe the standard contract is that you will be a ‘good girl’ and behave appropriately towards your most favored parent?’ he replied. The child rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure,” she says. He nods and holds out his hand, which curls around hers entirely when she puts hers out. 

“It will be done.”

After that, the children are a lot less hesitant, although several adults attempt to leave. Several hundred bargains are made. For toys. For new family. For present family to suffer. For puppies. And kittens. For understanding. For acceptance. 

He declines anything borne of pettiness - of momentary squabbles between jealous children - and redirects them towards more productive desires.

He turns away anyone over the age of eighteen, though several adults attempt to approach. Later they are plagued with horrible nightmares.

At the end of each day, he returns to the underworld and assembles teams of demons, handing out assignments to each of them, to be researched heavily and then executed the night of December 24th. The demons are confused, but do as they’re told, because the dark lord’s edicts are undeniable. His secretary gives him an odd look, but Satan is immune to searching looks, and says nothing, just retires to his room, gets up in the morning, has his coffee, and returns to the mall, donning the suit and heading for the chair.

At the end of the week, he has made more than a thousand deals. The demon hordes are scurrying back and forth between hell and the physical plane.

There are many confused parents, come Christmas morning. Some find themselves with various pets they don’t remember registering for. Others with children. Others still find that their children have undergone some sort of personality shift, to the delight of their siblings. 

The first girl is bitter in her heart as she opens gifts, until a letter is personally delivered by a strange mailman, detailing the removal of a teacher from the school she attends. She reads and rereads the letter after her parents finish with it, heart beating strangely lighter in her chest. Her parents are bemused and delighted about the hugs she gives them, and about the enthusiasm with which she ravages her other presents. 

BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS NOT CAROL OF THE BELLS

IT IS CHRISTMAS EVE/SARAJEVO 12/24 AND IT IS SO MUCH FUCKING MORE THAN CAROL OF THE BELLS.

so during the bosnian war (which was this nasty-ass conflict in bosnia and herzgovina) there was this badass cello-playing motherfucker named vedran smailovic. He was from Sarajevo, was upset about all the shit and nastiness that came about through this war (this was full-on brother-killing-brother shit!) that he went around to bombed-out, blown up buildings and funderals––where he was at risk of FUCKING SNIPER FIRE––and playing the cello. This guy was so set on providing one tiny spot of beauty in a seriously nasty war he was risking being fucking SHOT OR BLOWN UP.

AND THIS IS THE GUY WHO INSPIRED THIS SONG.

He’s why there’s the calm cello part at the beginning before everything gets all violent-sounding. It’s THEMATIC.

And what many people don’t realize is that this subculture was born as a way for young girls to express themselves in their own way. And it was also used as something against the adult life and the traditional culture, often seen as dull and boring and oppressive. By embracing cuteness, these young girls (and adult women, after a while) were showing non-conformation with the current standards.

NO OK THIS IS SO IMPORTANT!

This is also how the kawaii fashions started! Girls began dressing in cute and off beat styles for themsleves, they were criticized by adult figures telling them “you’ll never find a husband if you dress that way!” to which they began to reply “Good!”

All the japanese subcultures and fashions that evolved out of this became a rebellion to tradition and the starch gender roles and expectations the adults were forcing on the younger generations. As early as the 70s and still to this day you’ll see an emphasis on child-like fashion and themes in more kawaii styles and the dismissal of the male gaze with styles like lolita (a lot of western people assume lolita is somehow sexual due to the name of the fashion, but ask any japanese lolita and they will tell you that men hate the style and find it unattractive which is sometimes a large reason they gravitate towards the style - they can express their femininity and individuality while remaining independent and without the pressure to appeal to men)