soaringsparrows: rebelsofshield: ninastestanin: christmas-type…

soaringsparrows:

rebelsofshield:

ninastestanin:

christmas-type-furret:

This is literally the most bomb-ass D&D story I’ve ever read in my life oh my god.

Holy shit ._.

Some RP sessions have better stories than actual fiction. I mean, goddamn.

For those having trouble reading the text:


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.

They were killed by an orc army marching under the orders and banner of Asmodeus. Their deaths are what drove him to become an adventurer.

rudedere: mooncoffin: What I say: I feel like everyone is mad at me. What I mean: I got the…

rudedere:

mooncoffin:

What I say: I feel like everyone is mad at me.

What I mean: I got the impression that one specific person is mad at/dissatisfied with/disappointed in me and that feeling has bled over into my perception of literally all other people, because emotionally I cannot grasp the concept that negative feelings or reactions to me are not 100% universal, and as I mostly define myself by what other people think of me I can barely imagine what it feels like to be an individual with free-standing feelings and depth of character separate from what is decided by the judgement of others, thus enforcing the idea that when one person is upset at me then everyone is, because when someone else decides what I am it becomes true.

I spent a year looking for this post.

Growing up an only child, I never had any peers to ask for help, or assistance or companionship.  As…

Growing up an only child, I never had any peers to ask for help, or assistance or companionship.  As a single, introverted adult I’m very much in the same boat.

I just.  I’m trying to have this thought about “asking for help” and I’m just … who do I even ask?  What do I ask for?  I legitimately don’t even know.

For example.  At work, we share a workload because we’re a small unit.  Like.  My coworkers never have trouble asking for help and rebalancing the workload as needed through the day, whereas I will keep staggering forward until someone finally says, “Hey, can I do that for you?”  Because it never even occurred to me that I could ask.  Because there was never anyone to ask, and I never had the words to know what to ask for.

This is just a proto-thought forming.

Like, I could be completely sinking but I still wouldn’t know that I even could ask for help until someone pointed out that I might be drowning.

So it follows, that even as I am probably, legitimately sinking that a normal person would have asked for help ages ago, and probably gotten it.

Me?  Not so much.  On any account.

Who is there to ask?  What could they even do?

I am a rock, I am an island.

I Just

I am so sad today and I can’t shake it I just…

Another brutal work week starts tomorrow, one RN short as summer vacations continue and I just…

Syaoran is here and I can’t give him the attention I want to because nothing holds any joy so I just…

The house I worked so hard to clean is falling into disarray again and I just…

I just.