#but i can squeeze in another rp

[midnightsnaq]

You know what would be fun. A rp with Mob and Ritsu as they try to mend their connection with one another again. It's still awkward and tense between them but they're trying to relearn to be each other's best friends again like they used to be when they were kids. It's easier said than done

[askazara]

Rp starter with @jacks-muses

It's been several months since Azara has joined the Avengers. She lived with them in the tower, started her training to be part of the next generation of young heroes. Being from Krypton, and her complex history no one knew much about her. She was quiet and reserved about her past and for good reason. No one could seem to get her to open up.

Azara was rather introverted, mostly keeping to herself. The only hero who seemed to get close to her was Captain America, Steve Rogers. He took her under his wing and helped her with training. She was as strong as him if not stronger-that has yet to be determined. Her abilities expanded beyond his but oddly enough she listened to him despite her stubborn personality. She could shoot heat rays out of her eyes, fly, her skin was impenitrable.

She was in another session with Steve in the training room. He encouraged her as she was using the punching bag, wearing a black tank top, matching shorts. Az didn't even break a sweat. With her last punch, the chain snapped.

Steve laughed. "Okay, Az I take that as a sign that we should wrap it up." He easily picked it up, dragging it to the wall so it's out of the way. "I did that same thing once before. Guess that means we're both pretty strong hm?"

Az didn't even need gloves. She chuckled. "There is a possibility that I'm stronger than you, Captain." she smirked.

"Hmmm I don't know. Not many can out rank me on that besides maybe the Hulk. I'm not familiar with your species but you are pretty impressive. What is it where you're from?"

Az stilled. She just wanted to forget. "Krypton. But I don't like to talk about it..."

Steve frowned a bit, giving her an assured squeeze on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. I'm sure you have your reasons. But I'm here if you ever change your mind."

Az nodded. "Thanks, Steve."

As she was finishing up in the gym, the doors opened, another woman entering the gym. Azara looked over and froze, pausing from taking a drink from her water bottle.

[huggywuggysuppy]

Gem and Pearl chatted lightly about the WL finale on Pearl's Dec 4th stream (here) and now we know what they meant.

Among references to Pearl's wet catness, at 1:55:30:

Gem: We're both a little bit pathetic in wild life, it's fine.

Pearl: I don't know if you can call yourself pathetic, Gem. I really don't-

Gem: I think-I think I was pathetic yesterday [in the finale.]

Pearl: You reckon?

Gem: I mean I've got like the biggest target on my back ever so it's like doomed, but I think it was a little bit pathetic

Pearl: mmmmm I don't want to spoil anything otherwise I would have a full blown conversation about why you think that. But also I can't. [because spoilers]

So why'd they say all that? Spoiler analysis ahead!

Gem lost her final life to the wildcard all alone at her base, which isn't the most interesting death. Many of the CC's have mentioned that a boring final death sucks -- even in the same stream Pearl mentions she hesitates to fight reds cause she doesn't want to inflict a bad finale on them. Also, in the ep Gem muses that she regrets holding herself back so much from murder -- the "sweat" accusations are really getting to all the CC's I fear. Gem isn't pathetic, and had a lot of entertaining moments in her ep, but the death was unsatisfying.

Pearl hesitated to even post her finale in part because she thought it was boring / unfulfilling. The wet cat bit is funny (and she's sort of owning it?) but even its origin is messy. Due to Aussie ping (as she demonstrated earlier in the stream), it was straight up improbable to get a mace kill, no matter how much she tried. She was fighting lag the rest of the episode too due to the wildcard overload. That was on top of episodes worth of failed traps, storylines, and murder attempts, that were largely foiled by not having enough time to do them properly. Placed final 5 as always, but she suffered the whole way there and mostly just survived without getting any kills herself.

Most importantly: neither of them got to enjoy/execute their divorce arc plans. It's an ongoing problem with WL but especially noticeable in the finale. Neither of them wanted to rush things, but the series forced their hands! Joel kept interrupting with (valid) murder attempts, and Pearl actively tried saving Gem when she was getting attacked by the rest of the server. Everyone loves and longs for another Murder Camel team up, CC's included, but it just wasn't viable. They agreed to hold off on their foreshadowed 1v1 until Gem was red, where she then died right before the wildcards deactivated (when there was room for lore/rp.) Overall, they were punished for pacing things out.

And why wouldn't they feel bad after that? Gem died unceremoniously, Pearl slogged through the ep with very little payoff, and neither got to fulfill their season long arcs. And that's what everyone's here for at the end of the day: telling a good story! Life series is special for its specific brand of focusing on RP, which is why the "a gimmick an episode" format hurt so bad. The CC's aren't pathetic, the wildcards are the problem.

(I hope the CC's feel better after the positive reception they HAVE gotten from the ep, as we still enjoyed the season and storyline they did squeeze in. Joel's ep in particular was still fire inc the final fight, although I dream of the au where Gem makes it to the end with him.)

(Pearl's stream line about "wanting a full convo" says good things about the CC's examining what went wrong and why so many people walked away unsatisfied. It's also sweet that the girlies don't want each other to think they're "pathetic /srs" instead of "pathetic /wet cat." I trust Grian + co. will figure things out for (hopefully) next time.)

[allmannerofmalady]

In continuation of my clownery, I started a new DATV playthrough because my beloved Inquisitor looked so jarring I had to remake her and replay like 20 hours of the game. But hey, I made peace with the fact that I am playing DATV to wrap up Inquisition and get an ending scene at this point, I'm not currently foreseeing a second playthrough, so I gotta do it right, y'know?

Spoilers, and me complaining at extreme length, yet again, about my own personal expectations vs reality into the void. Please ignore if DATV negativity is something you prefer to stay away from, protect your peace & what you enjoy.

So I replay HOURS. I'm having fun killing everything as fast as I can - I don't know what it is about playing as a rogue in this game that has tickled my ADHD brain so much, but I'm surprisingly really good at the arrow bonanza and relentless enemy aggro?! This turn based bitch? I digress.

I see my bb Inquisitor Lavellan - she still doesn't look like herself, but I can live with it. She got some ill-advised fillers in Tevinter, she's been through a lot, let her LIVE.

This time around my strategy is pure lore hunting. I'm getting every codex, I'm SQUEEZING this playthrough for whatever lore/easter eggs I can get because idk if I'm going to play again. I got all of Solas' murals early on, got Mythal's essence before Weisshaupt even, I think. BUT WAIT! I have one more treat! The locked room in the Lighthouse! Solas' study! There must be something juicy for all the effort, right? RIGHT? :'D

I know it's been beaten to death, but PERSONALLY, the game still feels incredibly flat to me, jarringly so. If I'm in the Dreadwolf's home, I want to snoop. I want Rook to look through his library, his books, his garbage bin. I even remember the devs saying they wanted being in the Lighthouse to feel an old friends house, or something? I could be wrong, my brain is fried. It's not just a Solas thing - I'm playing this game because I'm desperate for info about the characters I love, but as Rook, we are IN Solas' HQ and I want to rip open the floorboards. I'm trying to RP as much as I can RP in this G.

Anyway, I was so thirsty for something more, something deeper than just these lovely environments I cant do much with, and notes on how Solas hoards raisins - so I collected the wisps and did all the things to unlock the second door in the Lighthouse, forever booboo the fool, thinking I would get some juicy content or something. Trying to stay positive.

No. NO. I got some gear, another empty room Rook has no comments on, and fine, some of Solas' observations on the anchor. It does seem to confirm he kept the Inquisitor’s arm aaaand I love him your honour.

Back to backflipping and shooting arrows in the air, and wanting to grab Emmrich by the beautiful lapels to shake him and ask about the Pentaghast family. Where's my WIFE --

On to the Weisshaupt mission, which was actually ridiculously fun to play - until I was told Weisshaupt is gone haha wow great love that at least the Inquisitor & gang are keeping Southern Thedas safe *subtle foreshadowing* 😃🤞 weeee

I was SO MAD at myself for expecting more like the clown that I am, it was something dumb but just annoyed me all over again and got me all… opinionated 🫠

So, I'm mad again. I cannot begin to articulate my feelings about the incredible amount of storylines and lore we've lost with the decisions made in DATV's writing - they've already been written so eloquently by much greater minds than myself. SO I'm just laughing my way through the pain 🤡

People pleaser that I am, I see other creators I've followed and loved for ages defend the game's choices, tell others they lack media literacy, that your criticisms mean you have rose tinted glasses about the previous games - whatever, your opinion can be valid without tearing others down. So, I genuinely thought something was wrong with me for being so hung up on details. But I can't even engage in fan theories anymore because I'm so jaded at this point. When I see new deep dives into lore-based theories on the game, 99% of the time my mind goes "There is no deeper meaning. They just wanted to wrap it up." Why do you think this thing happened? What do you think that thing is hinting? Nothing. And this is coming from someone who played all the games, owns all the novels, art books, World of Thedas I and II, the bloody Inquisitor lamp from the BioWare store LOL, I was primed and ready to engage in these conversations, but I can't. I have nothing to say that won't end in a cynical answer, and maybe that's because I'm also jaded by working in the game-adjacent VFX industry.

The factions are, yet again, fun but shallow, the logic confusing, and lack much of a backstory for Rook (I think Grey Wardens and Mourn Watchers seem to be the best developed from other reviews and playthroughs, I've only played extensively as a Shadow Dragon, to be fair). Why are you a mage in this one faction? Why are you a rogue in another when it doesn't make sense without a story to support it? It's all this beautiful candy floss that melts away the minute I stop and think about it. And then the cynic in me thinks - these are probably vestiges of the live service part of the game that EA was pushing for. I have to slap myself and stop looking for deeper meaning within corporate decisionsssss there is no swimming pool behind that closed door you needed 7 wisps for 😃

I desperately did not want this to be the case. I was hyped. I preordered the game and organized vacation around it, I'm too old and dealing with way too many crappy personal things to just be a hater for the sake of being a hater. Gaming and Dragon Age are my comfort spaces. But for the LIFE of me, I can't imagine playing DATV again once I finish, let alone more times than I can count like the previous games. Or imagine listening to 4 hours of Youtube videos of party banter to analyze, or even imagine how companions would react to certain things because they feel so stiff. Everything is beautiful, but sterile.

I do love Emmrich - I'm enjoying his storyline and romance, it's like the loveliest most whimsical Vincent Price Pixar romance, but still, something is always missing with the characters even as some do grow on me. I can't imagine anything close to just the party banter ALONE between Solas and Iron Bull. Cole. Fenris and Anders. And to be clear - the whole DA was GRITTY and DARK, DAO supremacy - NOT ME. I love all the games but they have always been whimsical and silly, cringey at times, and did not take themselves seriously. I remember doing the quest where Hawke is running around trying to keep Aveline's date with Donnic from going south, cracking up at how ridiculous it was, and just thinking - gods I LOVE this game.

Speaking of romance, while I'm enjoying how sweet the romance with Emmrich is, when I see others complaining about lack of spice... ahem. I still cannot get over the art style when it comes to characters. This is subjective, and a me problem - I still find it jarring. I don't like the proportions, the bloom, how smooth everyone looks. They still mostly look like cartoons to me, with no body hair and the big heads, and I find everyone's hands so distracting because they look like plasticine. I'm ok with no spice between these characters with their current designs lol let me leave it at that. Ok, except for Felassan and Solas, chef's kiss, no notes.

Solas and story elements directly around him still mostly hold the familiar weight, for the most part. I think credit goes to his amazing VA and the strength of what was likely written for his arc from the very start, before the rewrites and dev hell the game went through. I still have opinions, obviously, but even as a ride or die Solavellan I don't like having the Solavellan angle hijack conversations, so I'm not going to go there. If I'm going to criticize stuff I'll do it as a gamer/DA fan first, egg lover and apologist second.

As I reach the end of Act 2, the game continues to makes me feel like I'm stripped of all agency after a lifetime of playing choice-based games. I talk to companions when it allows me to, then they are relegated to set dressing. My conversation choices all feel the same, or don't match what I'm choosing sometimes. The Lighthouse does not feel like the vibrant hub it was sold as. I am on quests I mostly cannot accept or reject. I cannot interact with my surroundings unless it is gameified (light a candle, move a crystal). The companions abilities are all just - platforming? I know I sound hyperbolic, but it's all I can see currently.

I played Persona 5 from end to end, twice. I played FFXVI. I loved both, had no issues with their linear storytelling, and how the game led you to their end points. Those games are not DA, they did not have the expectations you would have from a BioWare title 10 years in the making. You were not lured in by tales of an incredible character creator, teased about what might be coming from previous games, told this was a sequel to an immersive fantasy RPG series in a beloved fantasy world where the defining studio mechanic was CHOICES MATTER, even when they changed a lot of other things from title to title. In P5/FFXVI you were Clive, you were Joker, you were playing out their story. They were not direct sequels to anything. I'm loathe to be seen as a mindless critic who just wants to shit on things, but a part of me does feel emotionally manipulated for $$$. I still resent how much hype was built for the game by maligning the previous ones (we're fixing Inquisition's mistakes!!).

I'm back to my mission of finishing the game I paid for, enjoy what I can, and get my Solavellan ending scene cause I'm down BAD for literally the only ship I have ever shipped🧍🏻‍♀️I appreciate that it was included. But also - wow does it exacerbate what wasn't included for everyone else's choices.

Something I hate is how everyone immediately jumped on the Baldur's Gate 3 comparisons - BG3 was a life changing game for me, but it's not perfect, and the comparisons are not fair. The one thing I will say is that when I first played BG3, despite its issues and the later criticisms of how Larian reacted to pressure from fans, I remember my earliest impression was - it feels good to be respected as a player. I didn't feel the game was talking down to me, and I got SO much for what I paid for (700 hours baybeee). Jaheira and Minsc were included as companions in homage to the previous games. Yes, they did Viconia dirty, nothing is perfect - but for example, Jaheira would tell you about her husband Khalid from the original games, which came out in 1998 and 2000. There was a lot of world building/easter eggs that not everyone was familiar with or even noticed, because not every player played BG1 and 2, or were familiar with DND 5e - but it was included. Drizzt Do’urden was mentioned ffs, they didn’t overthink about who read those books or not. I’m aware of my biases and I may very well be looking through rose tinted glasses, but I did not feel like the information was presented like I was dumb, or "ah they'll never understand this - SCRAP IT". It just feels like it’s there to honour the past and out of love for the world Larian were playing in.

—> edit to say that I do notice and enjoy the codex entries, callbacks to Tevinter Nights, Masked Empire, the older games. I wish that care and detail was woven into the main story and overall end product and not just background fluff. I know others are satisfied with those additions, wish that were me. I saw a tweet saying that every callback to a previous game or storyline actually pissed them off even more lol, I relate.

I don't feel that respect for the player in DATV, I'm sorry. There is love there, but as hard as I try, it feels like it's there despite of the overall design of the game, not part of it. I keep remembering interviews before the game was released and things that were promised, and I don't see it. At all. No more meaningless fetch quests!! Most companion-focused game! The quests are largely boring or formulaic, but addictive and fun because they are so packed with mindless combat that my brain enjoys. Sometimes it feels like filler - we didn't know what to add here, FIGHT! You unlocked a poignantly named gate in the Crossroads? NO STORY MORE FIGHT! And I'm eating it up, let me not be a hypocrite, I have 80 hours in the game. But personally, it feels designed to pad out this beautiful, sometimes fun, but bitterly shallow game. I can't even go into companion specifics because I have nothing to say, no story I want to analyze. Some have grown on me, but there is no bite or nuance to the writing that compels me and I have no urge to know more. In the previous DA games I would take the long route wherever I went just to get more banter from my companions, and I was instantly interested in them, even if I disliked them. I've seen the comments, I tried, I don't think it's because "I haven't spent enough time" with the DATV companions.

The level design of long narrow corridors, which do remind me of DA2 and FFXVI, has become so predictable to me that I almost always know exactly where I'm going to find loot. So it becomes this admittedly satisfying run of grabbing and fighting to the end point, getting the dopamine hits of collecting pointless stuff, but not really taking in the environments and enjoying the adventure. The level design is not immersive. These do not feel like real cities or real people, and that was intentional. It feels like “levels”, not a World. No one reacts to a single thing you do. Even in the ultra minimalist style of Zelda BOTW, townspeople would react to things you did. Sometimes I walk up to yet another obvious fight arena where the enemies are just chilling, waiting for me while standing still - almost like they're on shift at a haunted house LOL. I can imagine the Venatori stubbing out a cigarette, "C'mon guys, she's here, showtime". The funny part is this has all been seen before in older games, and it never bothered me. My own expectations and overhype might be to blame, but it feels like a big step back when so many games are stepping forward. Me = clown

I keep going back to my first reaction when the disappointment hit me. It feels like being given Persona 5 Strikers or Hyrule Warriors, and told that it's the sequel to the actual RPG. It's fun, it wears the skin of the thing you like that makes you happy, but stops there.

Other things I shake my fist at

Cheap ass The 6th Sense ass Varric death. Yes, yes, Solas villain arc whatever - it was cheap. Way to honour a multi-game beloved character and the player, even if the time had come for him to die in the story.

No, I cannot find a single redeeming reaction from a companion that makes Varric dying make sense in hindsight, except that they are all made of cardboard. I saw comments saying on a second playthrough it's clear Harding is in mourning - sorry, I don't see it.

So. Dorian, the Inquisitor, Charter, Harding, your party, Maevaris, Isabella, list goes on - not a single one of them asks about Varric or mentions his death? Expresses condolences? Nothing? Cheap. Even if Solas was playing with your mind, doesn't it make the overall characters in the game seem even more wooden and unrealistic to the player? It was not the gotcha they seem to think it is.

When the novelty of the cameos and the emotion associated wore off, they were just flat and felt random. Cassandra should have been there, doing Seeker shit (my WIFE). Ok no cameo? Casual dialogue with Emmrich about having a Nevarran in the Inquisition (or as the Divine?!) Lucanis info dumping about Josephine as an Antivan, Zevran as a Crow, nvm, time for a coffee joke. Merrill, eluvian queen, how is she a nonentity? Habibi Fenris should have been in the Shadow Dragons, spitting on the ground after being approached by Solas to join his uprising (lol what uprising amirite). Ok I'm cooking hire me Bioware 🍳 but at least they can remain untainted by the Isabella Treatment (tm)

This leads into the yeeting of the Keep, world states, choices, and hypocrisy around claiming to want to level the playing field for new players. No, all I can see is - it was treated as a buffet that they picked from as it suited. This is the one disappointment I will never let go of. Facsimile's of beloved character cameos were tossed in, you could not really talk to them outside of what limited dialogue you were allowed. Certain world states are now canon apparently - Dorian being recruited in the Inquisition, Morrigan drinking from the Well etc. You want a reboot and you've committed to tossing the choices and burning down Thedas (literally)? Go down with GLORY! Have all the previous main characters/companions alive. Have them all mentioned, even in passing. A portrait on a wall. Say goodbye to them, get your reboot. Honour what you built your business on. But yeah, Emmrich and Harding get to have their picnic in Fereldan fml bye

The argument of: well, the games are old now, it shouldn't matter. Ah - not too old to capitalize on the IP and DA name? Not too old to use some cameos to lure old players? The argument of - it was too many choices to track. Ok cut them down, but don't go scorched earth? 3 choices, mostly irrelevant to those who don't care about Solas (could never be me), and then literally telling you everything else in the South and Weisshaupt is now razed to the ground. But also the illuminati did everything.

FINALLY - the Inquisition should have been in charge of the hunt for Solas, hill I will die on. Fine, have Rook, but Inquisitor should have been the other protagonist. The people... who knew Solas best and betrayed by him... who were in an organization to save the world... Why did we have that cunty dagger stabbed into the map of Tevinter cliffhanger to have the Inquisitor reduced to a pyjama wearing husk BIOWAAAAAAAARE

It's this stuff that builds up, and makes me think - does this game hate its fanbase and source material that much? I very obviously need to go touch some grass 🤠

I keep engaging with Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter - all to my detriment because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for not loving it, all over again. I also desperately have a fic in me I would love to write, an ode to the story in my head from years of loving the world of Thedas, a love letter to my Lavellan and others - but idk what to do with the post-DATV world atp. I just want to get through Act 2/3, get my Solavellan smooch, ignore the ~secret Illuminati ending, and be grateful I'm not a Mass Effect fan so I don't have to go through this again 🐣

[duskier]

cw dubcon / somno / Ghost threatens to kill reader (in an rp way, like he knows you like when he talks like this)

Ghost coming home in the middle of the night, he didn't even tell you he had leave coming like he usually did- it was just another night for you. You had just barely fallen asleep laying on your side, Ghost’s part of the bed left open as you always left it, just waiting for him to come home.

He creeps up to your room with his deadly, silent movements. Ghost can't take his eyes off you as he quietly strips his clothes away. He can hear your soft breaths as he snakes himself into bed behind you, blankets warm with your body heat.

You startle awake at him behind you suddenly squeezing you tight to him like a snake overwhelming its prey, an arm sliding under and around you to grope at your breasts, his other hand shoving two fingers down your shorts and right into your cunt.

You can't help but gasp and whine at it, pussy tight and sensitive from neglect while Ghost was on duty. "Si-!!"

The hand once on your breast claps over your mouth. "Shut the fuck up. Not touching you t'make you feel good, doin' it for me. Better keep your fuckin' mouth shut while I use this pussy like she's meant to."

His voice is spitting mean, angry, powerful. He can feel you squeeze around his fingers as his hand on your mouth muffles your moan.

"Fucking slut, aren't you? Just laying about, ready to be used at any time. Should just force my cock in you now, whores like you don't deserve prep when you're so tight and wet already. What do you think, doll?"

His hand comes off your mouth, opting to instead grip your chin so hard it squishes your cheeks and lips. His voice dropped down to a grumbling whisper as a third finger fits into your cunt. "You say a fuckin' word and I'll gut you like a pig. Be a good girl, and I'll just make you squeal like one."

[floyd-leech-thing]

”C’mere. I’ll give you a nice, tight squeeze”

Oi, I’m the real person behind this blog. We’re going to get a few things straight here:

no incest. Ex: Idia and ortho, or Jade and Floyd (not that I think y’all need the examples but just in case

I would prefer beings over the age of 10

nothing overly sexual (because sometimes it just gets weird)

don’t get political. This is for fun, not debates

Any one starting a ship rp can not interact with another ship rp. Friend ships and such can interact obvi but any ships can’t and won’t interact I don’t need a mess for myself

Do not but in to someone else’s RP unless you have permission. And if you do, tell me so i don’t DM you with a warning

those are the current rules, I might add some later

Things that could get your blocked are: racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia

Other info: don’t be a dickhead. You can start full on Rps if you want but fair warning I get to it when I get to it if that’s what you’re doing, if you want a faster reply just do it in the tumbler DMs. This ask/chat blog supports all people of any race, gender, sexuality, religion and will remain that way

I am a multi-shipper so I’m not picky with that but I’ll probably respond more to the more popular ones so we don’t get any rude comments about that

I will get better at this whole thing over time just give me a inch to work with here

now with that out of the way, this blog is officially open to people to talk to

-Yours truly, Kris

Other blogs include: @rollo-flamme-nbc and @lilithin-the-rewriter (That’s a Heartslabyul oc) @war-of-alayda @savanaclaw-jack-howl @apple-boy-epel @rook-the-hunter @heartslabyul-ace-trappola @mozus-and-lucius @the-honest-fellow-fellow-honest (can’t @ it) @maria-hearts-jester @mama-cordelia-leech @sir-baul-zigvolt

Blogs interact with the most are:

@tea-cup-tyrant @jadeleech-official @seven-seas-octavinelle @nashi-brie @nrc-ramshackle-prefect @purplehairnpronouns

My mod blog is @krisling-crossroads-mod

[pinkhairandpokemon]

rp thread starter for @touya-san

“Come on Fwoofy! You can do it!”

“Blake, it’s been almost an hour,” Hop sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched his friend repeat words of encouragement to their Cosmog over and over. Beside him, Reshiram stood, eyes following his trainer with a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face. “You realize they can’t understand a word you say, right?”

“Yes they can!” Blake insisted with a pout, shooting him an annoyed glare over their shoulder.. “They’re still just… figuring it out! We’ll get it eventually.”

The Cosmog in question, however, was currently occupied with exploring in the tall grass, happily chittering to itself as it floated about and very much not trying to do whatever it was Blake wanted them to do.

“Uh huh,” Hop nodded, voice dropping with sarcasm. “Real hard worker over there.”

With a defeated groan, Blake ran a hand over their face as they rose to their feet. “Okay, yeah, this isn’t working.” Scooping Fwoofy back into their arms, they turned to face Hop. “Let’s try something else! There’s gotta be a way we can-”

A strange snort from Reshiram made everyone draw their attention towards the legendary dragon, and they all looked up to see him awkwardly scrunching his nose at nothing in particular. Raising a brow, Blake reached a hand out towards their Pokémon in concern as he squeezed his eyes shut and reared his head back. “Woah, buddy, you okay-?”

ACHOO!

The sudden, booming sneeze from the feathery creature made everyone nearly jump out of their skin, and made Fwoofy quite literally go flying straight out of Blake’s arms. With a frightened squeal, the little sentient ball of clouds spun about in the air like a stray leaf, a blue glow encasing its tiny body.

“Woah, Fwoofy-!” Blake exclaimed, both them and Hop simultaneously moving to run after the Cosmog. Before they could even take two steps forward, though, a dazzling explosion burst forth from Fwoofy and swallowed their fields of vision.

Blake had hardly realized they’d been sent tumbling backwards by the blow, until they opened their eyes to find themself collapsed on the grass. With a groan, they placed a hand over their head as they sat up and looked around. Sparkling residue still lingered in the air from the blast, but by the looks of it no one seemed to have been hurt.

After stumbling back onto their feet, Blake moved to help pull Hop from the ground and pick Fwoofy back up. “Okay, that was weird,” Blake remarked, giving Fwoofy a look of worry when they noticed how exhausted it suddenly seemed. The Cosmog let out a weak little trill, deflating in its trainer’s arms like a balloon. “I’ve never seen them do THAT before…”

“Maybe Fwoofy just learned a new attack?” Hop suggested with a shrug, momentarily glancing over at Reshiram, who still seemed a bit disoriented himself.

“I-” Blake opened their mouth to reply, but stopped when they suddenly noticed Reshiram’s head jolting up from the corner of their eye. “Reshi? What’s up?” They asked, turning to see what had gotten the Legendary’s attention.

Reshiram let out a roar towards the sky, a particular sound Blake had come to recognize whenever he was calling for his counterpart. Thinking N had come to see what they were up to, Blake followed the dragon’s gaze, expecting to see the black silhouette of Zekrom approaching on the horizon- but instead they spotted… another Reshiram?

[saltnpepperbunny]

BEACON- Prologue: Awakening

Hey all, and welcome to Beacon! This fic like actually exists again, hiatus is (mostly) over! This is a PMD story about my mareep character Calamus (he/they). Calamus started as a RP character, and thus his story is written. I plan to write this story in a similar style to Till World's End, but it will be a lot longer than TWE!

I'll probably start posting regularly when I have a substantial number of chapters written. I'll try to post weekly when I'm ready. For now, enjoy this rewrite of the prologue! This chapter remained public during the hiatus, but the prose was three years old, so I decided to just write it anew.

Last note, this story is rated TEEN AND UP! The content warnings will be made available on the cover when I post it. Also please note that the content warnings may update as the story goes along (I'll notify when this happens). Sensitive readers, take care!

NEXT: Chapter 1: Perfection (coming soon) >

COVER AO3

This story is rated Teen+! Content Warnings listed on the cover!

* * *

In the depths of the gorge beneath a fallen castle, where within a kingdom thousands of years strong had collapsed in a single night, a body opened its eyes.

What had lay dead now sparked to sudden life. Its lungs twitched with the beginnings of breath. The electric spark of impulse returned to its muscles. A tremor ran through its limbs, bringing sensations of stiffness, a dull ache. Movement, at the moment, was impossible. The body saw nothing around it but darkness. It blinked slowly, registering its eyes had opened, and yet still, surrounding it, a relentless pitch black. Its ears registered silence. As it scanned the environment, the shadows bent into the shapes of tall stone walls, ridges of black sedimentary rock, the shallow divot of the dry riverbed like a wooden manger. Regained, slowly, was the ability to feel.

That trembling dull ache gave way to agony. It realized it was in pain.

The corpse sucked in a shredded breath. Its lungs spasmed to life. It coughed and gagged and wheezed as excruciating pain convulsed through its limbs, its flanks, its head. Good Zapdos, everything hurt! It had never hurt like this in all its terminated life! All it could do was tremble, squeeze its eyes shut as tears pearled at the corners of its lids. Every gasp of air racked the body with pain. Though it had once known comfort, no gentle hand reached out from the darkness to pull away his hurt with delicate fingertips. No helpful other stirred.

Just a dead body, returned to life. At the bottom of a gorge. Alone.

It tried to remember, looked into a brain swamped in darkness. Where had it come from? Why was it here? Why was it now alone? It pulled into its memory, traced along a synapse into the story of the being that had become this corpse. Around it, still darkness. The night had yet to lift. It was night, wasn’t it? It had been night when…

Its eyes stretched wide. The corpse remembered another life.

“No force on earth can quash that which is absolute. My child, my life, through our blood, you are immortal…”

“Shhhhh, my golden, it’s okay. You have all the time in the world…”

“Promise you’ll never leave me, Cal. Promise me…”

“For Zapdos’s sake, Calamus, RUN—”

No…

No…!

NO!

A new kind of pain washed through it like black clouds rolling in. Despair rose in it like rain filling a storm drain, an agony that came streaming to its eyes and in burning streaks down its cheeks. From its throat came a hiccupping sob. It laid its head down, covered its eyes with its hooves, and cried. The pain came out in snot and in tears, in wheezing gasps, in shaking and clutching and its tail wrapping around the body. In its life it had never known a pain like this. It had never known an agony that threatened to rip its body open on its way out, that dragged its mind down into unyielding black, became the whole world in that dark place. It threatened to drag it back to death.

Day had yet to break. That meant it was still this night. This single night had been all it took to destroy the immortal kingdom. To destroy the Immortal Dynasty. Only hours before, the setting sun had cast the castle above in a golden aura, and from its highest balcony, the King had stood tall. The Queen had stood at his side. And behind them, back behind the great glass doors, the Prince had watched from their shadow cast. He saw his parents look out over that which was theirs: The city sprawling wide and far past the castle gates, beyond it the peaks of gray stone mountains cutting into the clouds.

Last evening, the setting sun had cast the monarchy in the blinding light of the gods.

And when the sun inevitably rose once again, that monarchy would be gone.

One night. One night. It didn’t even seem real. How could anything change so fast, let alone what was supposed to be immortal? It grasped at broken promises, the crumbling picture of a future now brought to ruin. Its chest, wet with the pain of a home lost. It wept and wept, despair weighed over it like a heavy black cloak, and in its mind coalesced the single question of what to do now. With bruised muscles and wet cheeks, amidst the rocks and the dust, there seemed to be no answer. And that made it afraid.

The body wished it could fall back asleep and wake up in a better world, a place where burdens need not be carried. A place without pain.

Then it realized, it could.

The body was still in pain. Its bruised muscles tremored, its head split, its breaths sagged. Everything it had ever known and loved was gone. Someone had once told it that it was the body of the kingdom. Its voice, its blood, its heart. If that kingdom was now gone, and with it, the monarchy… Surely that meant it, too, should now die?

Its vision became fuzzy. The black faded into something darker. The pain began to ebb. In that moment, the body realized that it could be okay, perhaps, with dying. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? The burdens it carried, now with the added weight of this night’s events, would lift. Its worries, its loathing, its pain: All of it would be gone. A corpse, after all, was not supposed to breathe or hurt. Maybe it was just being stupid. Why had it even awoken in the first place? Wouldn’t it have been so much easier just to run, fall, hit the ground, and never wake up again?

But now, unfortunately, it had a choice.

It faced a crossroads, and neither path called. Did it risk the unknown of death or the unknown of life? It was one thing to long for the sleepful embrace of the end, but another thing entirely to stare the choice down. To become the one who held the scythe to your own throat. Sleep called, and oh how it longed, but to reach it through the sharp bite of the blade into his neck… The idea drew fear as much as the other choice: To step into a new world ripe with terrors and challenges the likes of which it had never dreamt. The unknown terrified it to the core, but the choice was in its hooves. It had fallen. But would it rise?

Could it?

. . .

It shifted a hoof to connect with the ground.

Another hoof shifted into place.

And then, steadily, shakily, gritting its teeth through the pain, the body rose.

Why did it rise? The question had no answer. Was it weakness that turned it from the reaper’s hand? An unwillingness to face a comforting unknown, to commit? Or was it a newfound strength? It couldn’t be sure, and it never would. As it limped across the stone, sniffling, trembling, it turned its back on the temptation to lay down and let the world wash away. Maybe there would be help. Maybe that was possible? It seemed like a joke, but that single, small idea brought this dead body back to life.

A spark of electricity cracked across its wool.

As a corpse awakened and dragged itself up from the bottom of the world, with such a long journey ahead, it remembered five things about itself.

Its name was Calamus. He, sort of, was a boy. He was a mareep. He was heir to the throne of Lightbeacon, the eternal kingdom of the northeast.

And Lightbeacon’s ruling family—no, HIS family—as of this night, had ceased to exist.

[aching-tummies]

Onion Rings RP reaponse. I'd provide the kneading-hands on your upset tummy. Definitely a "hurt it" kind of kneading too. Firm, deep kneads. I'd use my knuckles a lot, pressing deep and dragging 'em like a baker does when they wanna drag the dough against the counter. Also can't forget the "punch down" action ^^ the bloated dome gets the fist. I'm going to cause that tummy ache to bloom and enjoy your tum's grumbles and making you moan and whine and maybe burp, or more likely vomit.

This gem has been sitting in my inbox since 2021. I'm so sorry to the person that sent this because this ask is gold and I've written and scrapped over a dozen responses to it because none of them felt quite right. All the onion rings puns in this ask kind of derailed me so many times and I love them. I wonder of the “bloom” one is in reference to a “bloomin' onion”--a form of “onion ring”/deep fried onion? Whether that was intentional or not, it was perfect and has made me smile countless times since I received this ask. Thank you!

Response to this post.

I whine as yet another potential sickly belch is denied to me. My tummy grumbles unhappily, continuing to inflate with the sickly gas being produced by the greasy, messy digestion of my unhealthy snack. The drive-thru you stopped by in the way home got your order wrong and gave you onion rings instead of the fries you had asked for. Unfortunately for you, you didn't check the bag before driving home and once back home you weren't going to leave over some fries. Luckily for me, I love onion rings...or at least, I did. I love the idea of onion rings—when they're outside of me and about to be consumed. Once they're conspiring to give me a nasty, greasy case of indigestion I like them a lot less.

That's what brings us to this moment. You scarfed your burger and pawned off the onion rings and half of your Mountain Dew to me in favour of hopping into the shower. I ate the side of onion rings and downed the Dew before it had a chance to go flat. The sickly green colour of the Dew should have been warning enough not to drink it. My poor tummy feels volatile, like it's filled with radioactive sludge rather than the greasy, carbonated mess it's churning around.

“My my, what's this?”

I almost jump out of my skin at your voice in my ear. You rest your chin on my shoulder, hands sliding under my shirt to palm at my rapidly bloating belly.

“Nnngh...oww...t-tummy's...j-just a bit upset.” I murmur, still struggling to try and expel some of the gas festering in my poor belly.

You dig your palm into my gut above my navel, dragging it slowly and firmly to the left with your fingers curled to make a bit of a fist. The bumps of your knuckles knead deeply into my upset gut.

“Oh! Oooh....nnnngh...*urp*” I startle at the sudden pressure of your palm on the centre of my gut and can't help but moan at the dragging kneading.

You continue this motion, altering hands and falling into a steady rhythm. It hurts, but with each 'punch' to the centre of my belly I get the opportunity to let out a pitifully small belch. It's not much, but I can only hope that it's gradually reducing the pressure in my achy belly. The carbonation in the Dew and the greasy onion rings were conspiring to wreck my sensitive belly. Already, the stretch from my stomach bloating up with the products of indigestion is pretty uncomfortable.

We stay in that position for a few minutes. Your kneading massage gradually slows. The thudding impact of your palm starting in the centre of my belly stops, replaced by both of your hands cupping at the sides of my bloated belly and squeezing. I've got a relatively trim tummy, but the indigestion and uncomfortable bloating has caused it to dome slightly. I'd think it was cute in a miniature-basketball sort of way if it didn't come with feeling so utterly sick to my stomach.

“Nnnngh...s-so upset...oooh...h-hurts!” I groan and whine, squirming in your hold as you torment my belly. My mutterings end in a frantic exclamation as I twist in your hold. Your hands had found a particularly sore spot in my belly and kneaded firmly. “Ooof...oww...s-sorry...oww...nnngh...it really, really hurts right now. C'n...C'n we slow down a bit? G-Gentle? Oooh...m-my tummy *really, really hurts!”

You grin at my protests, arms coming back to loop around my waist as you guide us to the couch. The tea I'd been in the process of making sits, forgotten, on the counter. Pity, I'd been preparing it in hopes that it'd settle my stomach. It's an intentional move on your part. Settling my stomach will come, eventually. Throughout your shower, thoughts of a stomach ache in full bloom went through your head. You didn't dare to hope that the small side of onion rings and half a drink would create issues in my tummy, but upon stepping out to the sight of me pressing my tummy into the counter sealed it for you. The indigestion will quell, eventually, it'll run it's course probably quicker than it would if left untouched—a byproduct of getting to manhandle my guts to your heart's desire and see the limits of 'tummy ache' that you can inflict on it.

[spoopieere]

Very long rant

Just expressing my love for these slashers dw

I think none of you understand how bat shit crazy I am about Asa/Arkin and Preston/Jesse. Because- look, I’ve been all over them since 2020 okay? And for the past 3.5 years, I think about them daily. I think about them during meals, while I’m studying, in class, folding laundry- I CRY OVER THEM FFS. Istg I’ve been crying over them in silly angsts situations that I make up in my mind before I go to bed for the past years. I cried to the point that my old pillow cases literally got tear stains stacking and mold underneath bc of how damp it got. My crying got so severe that bawling my eyes out while thinking about them for 1 or 2 hours straight is normal. I cry about them almost every. Fucking. Night. If it’s mild, it’s 10-30 minutes. If it’s worse, 1-2 hours. If it’s severe, 3-4 hours. I cried so much I had to take water breaks, I cried until my head hurts and my eyes swollen. My nightly-crying streak record is 12 DAYS straight- where I cried over them every night. I can make myself cry on the spot if I think about them for too long. Sometimes they’d creep up inside my thoughts and I suddenly wanted to cry in public. I even shed a few tears during class bc I thought of them. They occupy my thoughts like a plague, I think about them so much that I just casually slip an “Arkin.” or “Preston!!” out loud- because I was repeating a scenario in my head. I even have a little self-insert to squeeze in there.

Once I got introduced to C.Ai, I got even worse because I literally cried from 11pm to 5AM while acting out the angstiest scenarios with the Jesse ai bot while rp-big as Preston. Don’t get me even fucking started on how many tears I shed over Asa ai bot while setting my persona as Arkin ( and vice versa ).

I’m so fucking obsessed I bought a black turtleneck bc I thought of Asa the moment I saw it. I always envisioned Asa as a cat. So now every time I see a video or pictures of cats meowing, abandoned cats or cats suffering, searching for their absent owners I just get sad then immediately get reminded of Asa. I compared Preston to a pigeon so now whenever I see any type of birds at all, I immediately think of Preston. I headcannoned Arkin to like fishing, so now IM interested in fishing. I have a ginormous amount of brain rot over these 4 mfs that- me and a mutual of mine, have texting back and forth all of our brainrot almost daily for THE PAST 7 MONTHS (since last June)- AND WE STILL HAVENT RAN OUT OF SHIT TO SAY YET.

AND- by the time I’m writing this it’s 5:45AM in my country, and I’ve just finished another crying session (over Jesse/ Preston this time) that lasted for over hour. Is this normal?? I don’t think it is. Idk what kind of autistic am I but DAMN-

[becoming-the-bridgertons]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒚 | 𝒗𝒊𝒊. 𝑴𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒂𝒎𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆

pairings. violet ledger x ellie bridgerton

summary. violet goes into labour

word count. 4.8K

warnings. descriptions of giving birth

note. written in RP style by @lifesizehysteria and @shmaptainwrites

Ellie was at the dining room table, bills stacked in neat piles of paid and unpaid, a checkbook and check register in front of her, her pen scribbling across the surface of a check. This was her weekly routine, going through and paying their bills and balancing their checkbook. They could have paid an accountant to do it, but her father had long ago ingrained the importance of being aware of and active in one’s finances, even when you could afford to let someone else deal with them. When she heard Violet yell her name, she jumped, her pen scratching a long dark line across the check. 

She was up and out of her seat, bolting in the direction of her wife’s voice, calling out her name. When she turned the corner to the kitchen, she found Violet standing dead center, eyes wide and owlish as the sound of liquid hitting the floor filled the room. It took a moment for Ellie to realize the sound was coming from beneath Violet’s skirt and that a pool was forming between her feet, quickly spreading wider and wider.  

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” Violet whispered over and over again as she grabbed the edge of the counter top, squeezing it and looking down. “Ellie, he’s coming.”

She looked over at her wife, eyes wide and worried, unsure of what steps to do next, barely able to get herself unstuck and moving. 

She had been having minor contractions and breathing through them, not really thinking to mention them or time their regularity, but it seemed as though these ones were not just preparation for the real thing. 

“I can see that,” Ellie said, surprising even herself with the level of calm that fell over her, enough to make a joke. “Just–stay right there. I’m going to go get towels,” she said, as if Violet could have gone anywhere at that moment.

As quickly as she could, she got a handful of bath towels and returned to the kitchen. The stream had slowed to a trickle and Ellie unfolded a towel, laying it down between Violet’s feet. She put two more down to cover all the fluid that had spread over the floor, then handed one to Violet.

“If you use that, can you make it to the bathroom?” she asked. “If you can, I’ll go get the hospital bag and some clean clothes for you, and we can head to the hospital.” 

“Ellie, Ellie wait,” Violet’s voice was a shaky panic. “I know I said I’m ready, but I’m not.”

She gripped onto her wife, nails digging into the skin of her arm. There was terror in her eyes, everything was theoretical up until this point. Now it was happening and it was real. She was giving birth. 

“Darling, please don’t leave me,” she begged. “Please, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t. I’m not going anywhere,” Ellie crooned, her feet planted wide on either side of the towels as she pulled Violet in against her. “I’m right here. It’s going to be okay.” The gentle placations were accompanied by slow strokes to her hair, her fingertips gently combing through the waves. “You can do this,” she said when she felt that a little of Violet’s panic had ebbed away. “Your body was designed to do this. And I’ll be right here the whole time.” She took Violet’s face in her hands, eyes locking on hers. “One step at a time, okay?” 

“Okay,” Violet sniffled. “Okay.”

She tried to steady her breathing, coming out of her panic. 

She refused to let go of Ellie as they walked together to the bathroom. She helped her dry off and get changed into something clean, dry, and comfortable. 

They went together to grab the hospital bag and the car keys and once they were settled and Ellie was driving, Violet could feel another contraction coming on. She gripped onto the car door and groaned, throwing her head back against the seat. 

“El,” she hissed through her teeth. “Today might be the day you finally hear me swear.”

She attempted to tease, clearly in pain, but wanting to distract from it.

Ellie was doing her best not to race to the hospital. The last thing she needed was to get pulled over. God, if she did, Violet would never let her live it down. But she was concentrating very hard on maintaining a speed that would get them there as soon as possible, so Violet’s contraction almost startled her. Her hand reached out for Violet to hold through the pain. 

“If I’d known knocking you up was all it was going to take, I would have done it sooner!” she teased. She actually loved Violet’s commitment to being absolutely perfect by refusing to swear, but that didn’t stop her from trying to draw the words out of her whenever she felt an opportunity arise. 

Violet wanted to come up with a pointed reply, but all that left her mouth was a pained moan. She silently hoped she would not be one of the women who were in labour for hours upon hours before finally giving birth, she wasn’t all together sure she would last that long. 

When they arrived at the hospital, Violet was between contractions and quickly used the moment to get herself out of the car and into the building with some help from Ellie. 

Just as they made the few steps inside, Violet doubled over in pain again, grasping her wife’s hand so tight she hoped she didn’t break any bones. 

“Ellie,” she groaned through gritted teeth. “Make it stop,” she begged. She knew it was pointless, Ellie had no control and neither did she; this was happening whether she liked it or not. 

Ellie put her free hand on Violet’s back, rubbing circles into the space just above her hips, softly reminding her to breathe through the pain. It hurt her to see Violet in so much pain, but she knew it would eventually be over, and in the end they would have their precious baby. 

“Have you changed your mind about the epidural?” She asked, because that was about the only way that Violet would get the pain to stop, but she had been so adamant about not getting it. “It’s okay if you have.”

“How…how much more time do I have to decide?” she breathed, coming out of the contraction. 

She wasn’t sure if there were restrictions on when someone could get an epidural or not, but in her head she thought it might be nice to attempt a completely natural birth with no drugs, now that idea was not seeming too appealing. 

“Wait, why am I asking you? You’re not a doctor,” she shook her head. “Sorry, darling.”

Ellie smiled down at her wife when she had her realization at the same time as Ellie had been thinking to herself that she had no idea. 

“Let’s get you checked in, and in a room, and it’ll be the first thing we ask, alright?”

Ellie did all of the checking in, as usual daring anyone to question them, fully prepared to chew out anyone who tried to refuse them or suggest she had no right to be there. However, aside from a few questioning glances, it had been a smooth process and before they knew it, Violet was getting wheeled in a wheelchair to the maternity ward with Ellie striding along behind her. 

Once they were settled, Violet had gotten into her gown and had her IV placed, and a nurse had checked her dilation, Ellie stood by her side, one hand clasped tightly in Violet’s, the other wiping sweat away from her face with a cloth provided by a nurse. Violet was mid-contraction when the doctor came in.

Ellie greeted her, then immediately asked the question she knew Violet would have asked if she weren’t focused on the pain from the contraction. 

“Is it too late for her to have an epidural?”

The doctor watched Violet through her contraction, then checked her chart. “She’s not so far dilated that it wouldn’t help before baby gets here.” She looked at Violet. “Do you think you can sit still enough?” she asked her.  

Violet huffed and looked over at the doctor, still hearing her words through the pain. 

“I am right here, why don’t you ask me?” 

The doctor was kind and apologetic, turning to face Violet before quickly checking her chart again. 

“Miss Ledger, your…” She glanced over at Ellie, unsure of the relation between them.

“Wife,” Violet spoke through gritted teeth, still coming down from the pain. 

“Your wife was asking about the epidural,” the doctor finished. “We can still give it to you at this time, but it’s quite a large needle and we’ll need for you to be still. Is that something you can do?” 

Violet finally felt some relief from the pain and leaned back in the hospital bed, shaking her head. 

“El, I don’t know,” she sniffled and turned her head to look at her. “I wanted to…to…” 

She tried to take a deep breath but struggled to do so, all her organs still compressed by the baby. 

“I don’t know what I wanted anymore,” she sighed. “M-Maybe I should get it.” 

Violet pressed her lips together and looked at the doctor, trying to make her decision in a timely manner, but struggling to get past the point that this was already starting to look different than the plan she had created for herself in her head. 

“N-Nothing bad will happen if I don’t do it, right? I’m not more at risk of anything? It’s just the pain I have to deal with?” she asked.

Ellie looked at the doctor apologetically when Violet snapped at her when she had, in fact, asked Violet directly. But the doctor took it in stride, likely very used to women overcome with pain and heightened emotions. 

She listened to their exchange, taking in both the information from the doctor and everything Violet was trying so hard to express through her discomfort. 

“Nothing bad will happen, no,” the doctor said. “It is strictly a matter of your comfort. The only thing we have to be careful of is infection, since the baby no longer has the protection from the amniotic sac. But really, the epidural has little to no impact on the length of labor so it is something we will monitor either way.” She looked sympathetically at Violet and then Ellie. “Why don’t I give you a few minutes to discuss, and when I come back, you can let me know your decision.”

Ellie thanked her, and when she was out of the room, she turned her full attention to Violet, kissing her forehead before pulling back to look in her eyes. 

“Dottie, I know this is hard, and scary, but women have been doing this since we came into existence and you can do it, too. If you still want to. If you don’t, there is no shame in that, and I will be here, supporting you no matter what you choose. Plans change and the only thing that matters is that our baby gets here safe and sound.” She squeezed the hand that Violet still clung to, then pressed a light kiss to her lips, letting their foreheads rest together while giving Violet a chance to think.  

Violet closed her eyes and felt uniquely at peace while Ellie’s forehead was resting against hers. Once the doctor had spoken, she’d made her decision, and she knew her wife would support her no matter what, she just wasn’t entirely sure how she would react to what she had chosen. 

“You’re going to think I’m crazy for this,” she chuckled breathlessly. “But I don’t want the epidural.”

Maybe she would regret it by the time she was done, maybe she wouldn’t, but it was what felt right to her, despite the pain.

Ellie pulled back to look at her, bringing both hands to the sides of her face. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Vi. I think you’re the strongest, bravest person I have ever met.” She kissed her before she could protest, or brush it off, because Ellie would not tolerate a second of it. What better fit the definition of courage and bravery than being scared of something and doing it anyway? Violet may have been an anxious, nervous person, but she always did whatever it was she wanted, anyway. And Ellie remained in awe of her, now more than ever. 

“I love you.”

Violet was overwhelmed with emotion, gripping onto Ellie for dear life. She always brought her back to reality, even when she thought things were spinning around her, Ellie would bring her stillness. 

“Now can we get a move on with this?” she chuckled. “Your flower has grown thorns and I am very much ready to get him out.”

Ellie laughed, fully enamored and adoring of her pregnant, exhausted, perfect wife. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any control over that,” she said. “But why don’t we get the doctor back in here and figure out a plan.”

She popped her head out in the hallway, fortunate to find the doctor at the nurses’ station. Beckoning her over, she let her know their choice about the epidural, and she joined them in the room to discuss. 

“At your last check, you were six centimeters dilated so you’re progressing nicely, but not ready to push yet.”

“Is there anything we can do to speed things up?” Ellie asked, sure that would be Violet’s next question. 

“Unfortunately, since you’re hooked up to the the IV since your water is broken, you’re limited in how much you can move. We can help you find another position that might relieve some discomfort and encourage baby along quicker. Some patients also have success with nipple and vaginal stimulation as a means of speeding things up,” she said, and Ellie appreciated the clinical way she spoke of it, even if she did feel her cheeks begin to burn. “Otherwise, it’s a bit of a waiting game, unfortunately.” She looked at them sympathetically. “But I promise, you’re making really good progress. Especially for your first baby. I’ll be back to check on you in about an hour. A nurse will be around before then.” She said before leaving the room. 

As soon as the doctor left, Violet looked over at Ellie wide-eyed. There were a few things that had thrown her for a bit of a loop with what she said, but she was too focused on her breathing to be able to say much about it for the time being. 

She reached out her hand, trying to get Ellie to come closer to her which she did. Violet grasped her hand tightly, and as soon as she found it in herself to speak she said, “What the bloody hell did she just say?”

She supposed that could have been confusing because the doctor said many things, but there were a few highlights that stuck out to her. 

“How the hell is touching my tits going to get this behemoth of a child out of me?” she said, breathing as heavily as she was able. “And an hour? God, Ellie, I’m screwed!”

Ellie was desperately trying and miserably failing at not laughing. Her poor, sweet Violet who was being uncharacteristically vulgar—though it really wouldn’t be considered so by anyone else’s standards. 

“I don’t remember the science behind it, but one of the books I read said that sex can help bring on labor, so I imagine the same stimulation has similar effects on labor.” 

She squeezed Violet’s hand. “She said the nurse will be around before the hour,” she reminded her gently. “And we’re all on the baby’s time. It could be long before then that she makes her way here. However long it takes, you can do this.”

She was quiet for a minute. “Do you want to try any of the doctor’s suggestions? I can help you change positions. Or…?”

Violet looked a little unimpressed at her wife, but she did have a point. If she wanted to speed things along she was going to have to do the things that usually helped speed the labour along. And it wasn’t like it was something Ellie hadn’t done before, the idea just felt a little odd, especially since they were in a hospital room with nurses and doctors walking in and out at any given time to check on her. 

“You can stop looking at me like a hormonal teenage boy,” Violet said, referring to her wife’s direct line of vision to her chest, probably imagining what it would have been like if she said yes. She sighed and used her free hand to wipe some sweat from her face. “If you want to try it, let's try it. It honestly can’t get much worse than this right now, and it’s not like it’ll slow it down. Just…mind the door,” she finished her statement in a slightly embarrassed mumble, her cheeks already red from the exertion of labour, but she assumed Ellie knew there was a hint of bashfulness in there as well.

Ellie pressed her lips together to conceal a slightly bashful smile. She really hadn’t expected Violet to go this route. She figured maybe it would be a last resort, but she hadn’t really even expected that. Ellie suddenly became aware of just how badly her wife wanted their baby out. 

She went to close the door, then came back and put down the bed rail so she could sit down on the edge of the bed facing Violet.

“Ready?” she asked, and Violet nodded her head. 

She undid the snaps at the shoulders of Violet’s hospital gown, letting it fall open. She took her in for just a moment, noticing the change in size, how dark her nipples had gotten—maybe even more so than the last time she had really looked at them. Despite the circumstances, Ellie found herself getting a little bit warm. 

Not quite sure exactly the mood to try to set, she went with something between overtly sexual and strictly clinical, leaning into the slightly awkward nature of it by finding the humor. 

“It’s been a long time since I was nervous about touching your boobs,” she said with a cheeky grin. She brought her hands to Violet’s breasts, cupping them gently, feeling the new weight of them. They had been extra sensitive for weeks, so she was careful not to be rough as she began to circle her thumbs over her nipples, watching Violet’s face for discomfort. 

Violet’s senses were torn, pulled in two completely opposite directions. She appreciated how Ellie was attempting to be light-hearted about it, she supposed it made it a little less awkward. 

There was still a dull ache in the lower half of her body, not in the height of the pain at the moment, but she tried not to think about when the next contraction would come and instead focused on Ellie’s movements. 

She would be lying if she said it wasn’t pleasurable, but she was firmly biting down on the inside of her cheek to make sure not one sound escaped her mouth. 

“El,” she whispered. “It’s kind of weird with you staring at me like that. Your face is so serious.” 

A small chuckle escaped past her lips as she looked up tenderly at her wife. 

“Come here,” she said, her voice quiet. “Kiss me. Make me forget we’re in a hospital room and that ten different people have looked up my hospital gown since we’ve gotten here.” 

That was all the permission Ellie needed. She was laughing as she scooted a little higher on the bed, one hand coming up to Violet’s cheek as she leaned in to kiss her. It started as a tender kiss, a little playful as Ellie continued to smile through it. Once they settled into it, she continued her movements with the hand still on Violet’s breast, little gentle squeezes while her thumb rolled over her nipple that was now hard beneath it.

As the awkwardness began to fall away, Ellie let the tip of her tongue brush against the seam of Violet’s lips. A cautious heat began to spread through her, mixed with emotions she had been suppressing in an effort to remain calm and strong for her love. It forced its way up from her stomach to her chest, until there was a not uncomfortable pressure inside of her that felt an awful lot like devotion.

“I love you so much,” she whispered against Violet’s lips, her hand sliding back from her face to her head so her fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of her neck. 

Violet could feel tears welling in her eyes, coming up for a variety of reasons, but the only one she would give any attention to were Ellie’s words. 

They had walked this path together, from the moment she had gathered enough courage to ask if they were ready to start a family up until now, in a situation she could say with a most definite certainty she could not have imagined in her wildest dreams. She had a feeling this part of the birth story would just stay between the two of them. 

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” she murmured, pausing their kiss, their faces still pressed so closely together. “No one stands next to me and stands up for me the way that you do. Thank you for being my voice when I can’t find my own.” 

She leaned in and kissed Ellie once more with more firmness in an attempt to show even just a fraction of her gratitude for everything that she had brought into her life. 

“I love you more than I have ever loved anything, Ellie Bridgerton.” 

As the words left her mouth she felt another contraction coming on and her grip tightened on her wife while a pained groan left her mouth. She supposed she would have to get used to the baby ruining the mood eventually.

As Violet’s grip on her tightened, sounds of pain beginning to pour out over Ellie’s chin, Ellie brought her hand down from her neck to her belly, rubbing over the tight bulge that was constricting so hard beneath her gown. “Breathe, Vi,” she reminded her, and, with their foreheads still pressed together, she breathed with her, encouraging her through the pain, making sure she knew she was right there with her, as she always would be. “That’s it, keep breathing, almost done,” she crooned as she felt Violet’s body begin to relax as the contraction eased off. 

Grabbing the cloth that had been left for them on the bed, she wiped away the sweat from Violet’s face and neck before setting it back down and finding Violet’s eyes.

“Maybe it’s working,” she wondered aloud, then asked, “Do you want me to keep going?”

Violet was still trying to come out of the pain, a couple tears streaming down her face. 

“I don’t know, El.” She let out a shaky breath. “M-Maybe just distract me. The pain is getting worse.” 

They changed their approach, covering Violet up again while trying to keep her mind off of the pain to pass the time until the doctor came and checked on them again. They went through a few more rounds of gaps of time waiting for Violet to be dilated enough for her to start pushing. 

With each time, she felt more and more exhausted, trying to think of when she would finally have her baby in her arms, or more so when she would finally be able to close her eyes and sleep.

Finally, the doctor came in and checked on her again, at this point Violet wasn’t sure how many hours later, and looked up at her with a smile. 

“Alright, I think it’s time,” she said. 

“You mean I can start pushing?” She looked up at the doctor hopefully.

“That’s right,” the doctor said. As several nurses helped guide Violet into position with her feet in the stirrups, Ellie felt her heart start racing so fast and hard she thought it might burst from her chest and land bloody and beating on the floor. What better place than a hospital, she thought, before telling her mind to shut the hell up. 

“Are you ladies ready to meet your baby?” the doctor asked as she came into position between Violet’s legs.

Ellie stood beside the bed by her wife’s shoulder, her hand clasped around Violet’s, hoping she couldn’t feel it shaking. 

“Okay, Violet, when the next contraction comes, I’m going to tell you to push. I want you to hold onto the back of your legs and push as hard as you can while Nurse Anna counts down. You push until she stops, okay?”

Recognizing the wide eyes Violet had trained on the doctor, Ellie leaned down and kissed her temple. “You’ve got this, Dottie. The hard part is almost over and then our little flower will be here.”

“Okay, okay, let’s do this,” she nodded her head, trying to not get overwhelmed. 

She positioned her hands behind her legs just as the doctor had instructed and waited almost nervously for the next contraction to come. There was a small chuckle that left her lips at the thought of finally getting to prove Ellie wrong about the sex of the baby, although she could have very well been the one who was wrong, and Ellie would not begin to let her live it down. 

When she felt the contraction coming, she waited for the nurse’s instructions and began pushing when she was told, her exertion presenting itself quite clearly in the cries that left her mouth. 

With each contraction, she pushed more and more and more, listening to the instruction of the doctor, focusing on Ellie’s words of encouragement, how her lips were practically pressed against her temple. 

Ellie could feel Violet growing more and more tired with each contraction. Her groans turned to desperate, whining pleas and at one point Ellie had to start holding her back while she pushed because she was losing strength. 

Just when Violet was starting to sound like she was ready to give up, that it was just too hard, the doctor said, “Alright, Violet. This is it. One more push, the biggest, hardest one you’ve got, and the baby will be here. C’mon,” she encouraged as the nurse began to count. 

Ellie leaned into her back as she began to push. Her determined cries filled the room while Ellie offered her own stream of encouragement. Then, suddenly, Violet’s cries stopped and another shrieking cry took their place.

Violet collapsed back against her, silent tears streaming down her face from relief.

“You did it, Vi!” Ellie said against her temple as she kissed it. “You did it”

She gingerly laid Violet back against the bed and at the same time, the doctor set their screaming, wrinkled, perfect child on top of her swollen belly before having Ellie cut the cord. 

Violet’s tired breathing turned into a relieved, awe-filled, breathless laugh that filled the room next to the sound of her baby’s cries. 

She couldn’t control her tears and she didn’t want to. They flowed freely down her face as she held her baby up to her chest. 

“Ellie, look at our son,” she practically sobbed, her lips against his forehead, filled with gratitude. 

She couldn’t bring herself to rub it in that she was right about them having a boy. Violet just couldn’t quite get over the fact that this baby, this precious boy, had been living inside of her for the past nine months and now he was finally here. Her Anthony. 

Son? Ellie couldn’t believe it. There was no way. She had been so sure, so convinced the baby had told her who she was, and it had made her feel so connected, so in touch with the little life growing inside her wife’s body. But as sure as she had been, when the nurse helped Violet flip the baby over to start to nurse, there was no doubting it. She had been very, very wrong. 

She began to laugh, almost uncontrollably, the stress and emotions of the last however many hours forcing their way out of her over something so unbelievably silly. She did not care. The baby was here and healthy, and that was all that mattered. 

Wiping tears of joy from her face, she leaned over the two of them, brushing her fingers so lightly over the smattering of hair on the top of his head. “You are a cheeky little devil aren’t you, my flower?” she cooed at him. “He’s perfect,” she said, gazing at him for another moment before kissing Violet, feeling a rush of emotion for her that was unlike any she had ever felt before as Violet nursed their baby, continuing to give life to the very real and tangible embodiment of their love. 

Despite her exhaustion, Violet could not have imagined that day looking any different because finally, Mummy and Mama and Anthony made three.

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

I have decided to spore Leatherhead from my Mama Bear au, since he is also in the Misa rp discord server, this sporing features @catarina-hamato’s characters!

TW FOR MANY THINGS, PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS

Luke packed away another item in the special case he made for all the gifts he planned on returning home with.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected to be a part of something like this, but it was sudden anyways. They weren’t exactly consulted on it.

Camp was never really his thing as a kid, he liked staying home with Julia and his brothers more during summer. They’d bake together, have special permission to stay up a whole half hour later, and he’d even get brought to the pool more.

This was a bit different, though. He had a large part of his family here, and even some people from the wish dimension like Misa, the HOB group, and TJ’s family.

It was better than other camps in that way, but he’s still missing another huge part of the people he cares about.

The worst thing is, the headphones Tello gave him are being blocked by the crystals of the cave. He can’t talk to him or let him know they’re all okay.

Don’t ask him how headphones that can work through dimensions are taken out by cave crystals, he doesn’t know.

He of course still kept them on as much as he could, just in case contact managed to break through or he just needed them to calm down.

It helped with the homesickness, slightly. Picking out crafts that reminded him of the rest of his family did too. He’d be able to give them out and he’s sure Tello would have a blast analyzing their signatures.

There were only a few people in the shared cabin at the moment. Luke was the only one from the group, he needed some space and quiet.

Just as he was closing the case, the whole cabin started shaking violently. He sat near the frame of his bunk bed and wondered if there was earthquake happening here somehow.

The lights went out before the shaking eventually stopped. From how dark it got afterwards, he could assume all the other electricity went out too.

He stood up quickly, needing to make sure that everyone else was okay. Pressing a button on his headphones, the screens in front of him help light up the area. Once he did a sweep through the cabin for anyone injured, he rushed out of it.

His eyes land on the giant crystal that popped up right next to the cabin. An alert is suddenly in his ears and flashing across the screen, something is behind him.

Before he can even turn, vines wrap around all his appendages and over his snout. He’s dragged away somewhere with even less light, it’s dark and isolated.

The vines prevent him from clawing and biting. He’s almost muzzled. Still, he thrashes around as much as he can, especially as another vine removes his headphones. He can only catch a glimpse of something else on screen before they’re dragged away out of sight.

A mushroom is suddenly shoved in his face. It glows and stares at him with one extremely creepy eye before particles from it are launched at him and spread in the air.

He coughs and wheezes as the spores enters his lungs. Memories of everything the other multidimensional universe had done to him and the people he cares about flash across his mind. He shuts his eyes tightly, hoping with everything he has that it isn’t going to be as bad as it was.

“Crocababy? What’s wrong?”

He pauses at the familiar voice.

The headphones are gone, he shouldn’t be able to hear him.

“Open your eyes, filius. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He feels weight around his shoulders.

Slowly, he opens his eyes.

Donnie’s lab? At home? How?

“….Dad? How….how did I get here?”

“The headphones sent off a distress signal. I was able to get you away from those vines and brought you home.”

He…he did see something on the screen, but could this be true? He has to be seeing things, right? He’s being tricked.

“I was so worried about you….I couldn’t take it if anything happened to you…”

Luke returns the hug, squeezing his dad comfortingly.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry I scared you-“ His eyes widen when looks down and sees his claws absolutely drenched in blood.

“…..That’s why I couldn’t stop you. It would have hurt you.”

Luke stumbles back, screaming in horror at what he might have done. He trips over something almost immediately and lands on his back, a wet, stickiness with a metallic smell surrounding him. It makes him sick to his stomach. Even without looking, he knows what it is.

The sight above him isn’t fully better. There’s Tello above him, arm and eyes kraanged out. He’s covered in blood too.

There’s.

So.

Much.

Blood.

Too much for just a few people.

He gets lifted up and turned around by the Kraang arm to see the full massacre.

Luke’s heart nearly wants to stop at what he’s witnessing.

The Leos have wounds in them like claws went through their plastrons. Leon had more of them, and they were deeper than Leos.

Leon’s hands are still placed on some of Leo’s wounds, half healed.

Leo is still clinging to Leon. His eyes are wide and empty. One of his arms is missing.

Red is face down, curled over Raph’s body. His shell is in pieces. There’s blood pooled under his head where a dent is.

His mother, his poor, sweet mother, is off to the side and propped up against a wall. Most likely having been forced back and made unable to do anything.

Her arms are horribly broken.

The universe is cradling Usagi and Angelo in its little arms. It would probably be holding more of them if it could.

Angelo’s neck is broken.

Mikey’s neck is too.

They both had looks of betrayal left on them. Tear stained faces.

Usagi is littered in claw marks and bites. There’s a ripped up blue mask by his hand. Claw marks are nearby on the floor, he was dragged away from-

Dee.

He’s….

It’s so awful his brain is trying to distort the very image of him, but something is forcing him to focus.

There’s deep wounds clawed down the entirety of his shell.

The universe turns to him, eyes open and fiery.

“You were a mistake. You should have died with your clutch. You never deserved any of them.”

Luke can feel his consciousness slipping into that feral state he usually goes into when something of this level happens.

With every body, he has just been screaming and screaming and screaming as tears poured down his face.

It’s all he could do with how his dad was holding him.

“Crocababy, you haven’t seen the worst of it yet. He’d be so sad you were forgetting about him.” Tello says with a wide smile.

Who is he…?

NO!

NO!!

Tello turns him to see the last body.

Scotty’s body is horribly mangled like he’s a chew toy that got picked up and whipped around.

Luke screams more, his throat raw.

It’s so much worse when his body starts twitching.

He’s still alive.

“SCOTTY!! Dad! Please! Let me heal him! Let me help! Please! Please!!”

“L…u….lu…” Scotty chokes out, blood splattering on the floor more.

“Son, there’s no point in that. He’s still going to hate you for what you’ve done.” Tello rubs Luke’s cheek, causing him to flinch and try to pull away again.

“I don’t care! He can hate me as much as he wants if he’s alive! H-He needs to be alive!” Luke begs.

“And suffer like you did? Being the last one of his family? That’s so cruel, mea parva tragoedia.”

Scotty’s twitching suddenly stops as his head is smashed into the ground. Luke screams yet again, seeing SC-1 standing over him.

“If I knew it was this easy to be rid of so many issues at once, I would have made this happen myself. Your father is a suitable vessel now. Watching his son tear apart his family without being to stop him, and not having him to calm him down, that allowed a little something to win over his consciousness.”

Luke can barely get air in. His heart feels like it’s about to explode. His mind is swimming. He’s hanging on with just a frayed little string.

“Since your precious little universe is dying, you’ll have to join a new one. You and your father will have fun there, I’m sure.” SC-1 laughs.

“DAD! DAD PLEASE-!” Luke inhales sharply when he feels something ripped from him.

He looks down and sees his soul out in front of him.

“You’ll be a much better son once we’re done. Maybe now I can really have Spike back.” Tello coos.

The string snaps.

Luke roars the loudest he possibly can, claws scrambling against the kraanged arm around him. His pupils slit.

He needs this to stop.

Please.

Any way to stop it.

“Anything? You would do anything?” A voice worms its way into his head.

Yes.

Anything.

Just make it stop.

No more.

“Then join me. Serve me. All of it will stop.”

He knows, some part of him knows, that this will doom him.

He doesn’t have it in him to care

Okay.

Anything to make it stop.

Luke’s body is dropped from the vines. His eyes fill completely with a bright blue glow. He slowly stands, stumbling as he moves. The pain in his throat is numbed, as is everything else.

He walks away, not hearing his headphones as voices yell out from them.

“LEATHS! LEATHS! SON! RESPOND! PLEASE!”

[blxxditout]

"You’re not okay! You need help, please just let me help you!"

From Ouroboros via "Injured RP Starters"

The blood is washed away by the rain, the cold droplets dampen his grey hoodie as he holds his side. His hand has been made murky by devil’s blood and the use of his trigger. Broken skin creeps up his wrist as he presses his palm closer to his form, now beginning to shiver from the cold. Isn’t this sight familiar? He isn’t hissing and spitting like a feral cat, not like the other when they’d first gotten acquainted. Sid cant decide if it’s his arm that burns or the gash in his side. God, I stink.

Typically a devil’s body is sustained by human blood, and that of magical energy… Sid is deficient of both; on a part that he refuses to drink blood, and another of simply not knowing where to gather an abundance of this energy. The scent permeating around him is the results of being starved off of these two properties, in spite of himself. He can feel his hunger, just not at the pit of his stomach where it ought to be. No, it’s higher up, taking residence in the half of his heart where he was last scorned. At every turn it feels like he needs to lash out, to fight and to kill. It’s terrifying.

How could he want to do these things?

“Mm… yeah, that sounds about right”, he’d smirk at the other, lips cracking.

His is the scent of rust, decay. The magic in the athame is at an all time low, to the point where he is returning to that husk like state at the time of his unmaking. On the precipice of his demise, he stands not sure of what can be done at this rate.

“I don’t know if you can, I mean…”, he gives his side a squeeze, struck by another pang, dark droplets fall beside him as the rain continues on.

“… I don’t know how much time I have left”, is this… it? Is this where it ends?

[yandere-islandvn]

NO WAY IS NURSE BOY THAT SINFULLL... he's so cute aaAAAAAƪËRGWYJQ, TAKE CARE OF ME ONLY, I'M A SUCKER FOR SPECIAL TREATMENT.

Reaction to an mc scared of medical settings? I get so stressed in front of the staff, almost like I don't trust them with myself. They always seem so unreachable and unreceptive to me, and as a fellow sensitive person, it scares me. It's white everywhere in these places, which is a must to see if it's clean, but in a way, it's so blank to the point where I question my existence staring at them tiles 🪦

( *smacks Markus upside the head* )

( THis nURse was originally made for Wattpad rp )

( Do you know what he was like at that time???? UwU )

(Would also like to say, I don't know how scheduling works for hospital/doctor offices staff)

Markus couldn't help but smile at you, tilting his head as he watched you stare off into the blankness. He moved to sit in the chair next to you, offering you a paper cup filled with the warm drink you had asked for. "I'm sorry I can't be the one working with you... I was told it was 'highly unrecommended' for someone this close to you to be your practicing nurse, but I'm glad I can at least be here to support you!" Markus told you, reaching over to take your hand and give it a comforting squeeze. "And, I personally looked into who you'd be working with. The nurse who was scheduled to you did have a last-minute call in with another patient, but the one I got you swapped to is really sweet! She's got a very steady hand and you've got me right here by your side as a just in case," he told you with a grin, his thumb brushing over your skin, "I'll make sure that everything is taken care of, I promise!"

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) “Into the Mystical Forest”

A Long time ago, Saphira was Expecting a beautiful baby girl name Serena but her husband name “Alvin James Harriet” Who was Constantly Put saphira in the House Work while Pregnant with a Child. But sadly On the 8th month...Alvin made her to do the yard work in the hot summer day...but then Saphira collasps and went into pre-mature labor..suddenly..She lost her baby girl as a stillborn...His parents came and  shocked about what happed to the baby and asked Saphira whats going on, Then She told them everything what Their son has done...His Parents was appalled of what she said...and they are furious about it as Alvin came in with his mistress laughing about serena’s death...Mr. alvin Harriet (his father) was So livid that his face turns red, then he comes to alvin and grabbed him by the Shirt and Punch him by the face and he said, Mr. Harriet:”ALVIN JAMES HARRIEEET!!! What is the meaning of this!? Laughing at your own Daughter’s Death!!? I’ve heard from your “WIFE” That you put her into work! Your mother and I Never Raised you Like this!” Alvin:”ow! Dad!? Mom!? W-w-wait I can explain!” Mrs. Harriet:”Explain What!? This is How you’ve been treated your own wife For “THIS”, Having an affair while your Poor wife had a Stillborn Daughter!, Now Our Little grand daughter is dead..BECAUSE OF YOU!!!! And Who is she!?” 

She said Pointed at the mistress as the Mistress was scared of Alvins parents, But Mr. Harriet was Yelling and scolding Alvin in the most harshful ways..as Mrs. harriet grabbed the mistress by the hair and thrown her out of the hospital and tell her to never come back to alvin and called her a “Homewrecking harlot” While Saphira gives Alvin a Cold look and She said.. Saphira:”Allviiin! *cross her arms* What do you have to say for yourself?”

Alvin was on the ground all hands and knees begging Forgiveness from saphira but then Saphira said, Saphira:” I Don’t even wanna Look at you Right now...I can’t believe you decided To Cheat on me while I’m carrying your Child That you Killed in Cold blood!..I am Going to Divorce you..And I’m going to Sue you and Your Little “Homewrecker” of yours and I’m going to squeeze every....last...Cent..out of you..” Alvin:” oh no..please please! I’m sorry..forgive me..I know i’m a bad Father..we can make another one!..I swear”  Saphira gasp and Smacked him so harshly..and She told him that “No one Is not going to replace for what she had lost”...So 3 months later..She divorce alvin..and made him and his mistress pay every cent To her...and his parents Made him as Prisoners so he can be “re-educated” For mistreated saphira For so long...But..as For saphira, She visit her daughters grave..She was buried near the mystical forest..She knee down and crying..She felt that she failed to protect her Daughter from that Horrible man,,Until..She saw something glows into the Forest...She runs and finds the source of glowing..until she made it and saw The beautiful Kingdom of fairies..She was suprised at first..and she sees the Royal Prince and all..Until..She hears a voice saying to her...

[roleplayhonestybox]

Please mods and good readers of roleplayhonestybox I need advice! I was just casually chatting in a server that was not roleplay focused and I lamented how difficult it is to find an rp for a certain fandom. Another person came forward and said they'd roleplay with me. I was clearly over the moon about this and even more when I found out we liked the same pair (this fandom has a habit of focusing only on the 'main' mxm pair. You know how anime fandoms are) that not many people like. The catch? This person isn't very familiar with roleplaying, so I walk them through the basics. I honestly don't mind! And even if I lean more towards lit/adv lit, I don't even really care for shorter replies. However, we move to plotting and I briefly share my boundaries and preferred plots in which I state I like angst and I don't like modern plots, but the conversation takes a different route to explain some more rp terminology.

We go back to plotting and my partner shares their idea. Which is definitely fluffy and modern. And just generally not my thing, think something like flower shop AU. They even say they squeezed their brain to come up with it and I feel bad about vetoing it and potentially curbing their enthusiasm for the roleplay but it's something that has zero appeal to me. I understand it's so many people's jam, but I could never get into it. Usually, I'd say it outright and if my partner is really set on these kinds of AUs, I'd just suggest we go our separate ways, but I'm afraid this time they might see it as me trying to get rid of a rp newbie, which I absolutely don't want to do. I remember I was pretty anxious when I started out and someone just so blatantly dropping me over my ideas would kill my self-confidence.

How do I proceed? In a panic, I basically agreed to it before leaving for work and now I have no idea what to tell them. Please send help.

If you aren’t invested in the idea, you aren’t going to care about the roleplay and that isn’t going to benefit them either. You can be kind about not really vibing with the idea. If you suggest other things, they might be up for it and if they aren’t then it might be for the best to part ways and wish them luck on starting their rp journey.

If anybody else has other advice please tag in!!