#choices d&d mc

[1000sunnygo]

IMO a lesser mentioned reason behind Luffy's overwhelming success as a protagonist is Oda's extreme overprotectiveness. Like he'd rather jump off a cliff than let Luffy be controversial.

Marineford is an easy example. An arc heavily featuring Luffy's low point, but Oda didn't make him responsible for Ace's death. In 1000+ chapters of screentime, I can't think of an instance where Luffy did something irredeemable in fandom eyes. Only controversial scene that comes to mind is picking a fight against Zoro in Whiskey peak? Maybe Oda had the luxury to let his guard down back then bc online discussions weren't a thing PFFT

It's not like Luffy doesn't make mistakes, but Oda makes sure Luffy is immediately called out by someone in the story so he stays grounded and can apologize if he has to.

And that's not all, Oda is vocally supportive of Luffy in the polls, he can't not include Luffy in magazine covers even when the editors press him to, he made the timskip 2years bc he wanted Luffy to stay a child during story's runtime, he doesn't let a single character outshine Luffy in an arc, he cushioned Luffy's past with TWO brothers and kept one alive after taking away one of them.. he's spoiling Luffy rotten and I love to see it bc that's the right kind of spoiling, that's what keeps Luffy the happy boy he needs to be, shonen authors should take some notes methinks

[bri1234]

What’s one of your favorite scenes from one of your favorite Choices books? Here, I’ll go first:

[niaerinisms]

Ranking the MCs by who pulled the most bitches

(I will only be doing those with 5/+ LIs otherwise this thing would've gotten way too long. Feel free to correct me if I missed someone, which I probably have considering I haven't read all these books and took some stuff from wiki. I will also be taking ILW as canon for this list)

5) TH:M/WtD

Pulled five bitches with the power of having a fine booty and good personality, you either want them or want to be them

4) PM/AtV/RCD/TF/ILW

Have 5 people ready to drop down on one knee but that didn't stop them from keeping a few side hoes. Had Nathan been an actual LI, TF!MC would've been higher.

3) TCATF

Queen Kenna Rys of Stormholt, I am so sorry for not putting you on the top of this list. Unfortunately, she was more busy cutting bitches than pulling them. Yet, without even trying, she still managed to get 6 (6!!!) super fine LIs who will and have proven that they'd die and kill for her. Plus half the fandom simps for her (as they should!). She's third on the list but first in our hearts<33

2) AME/BOLAS

Not only do they have 6 (6!!!) super sexy people at their beck and call but also have the power of seduction in spades which they are not afraid to use. They've proven that they can pull any bitch they desire. Good thing they're morally good (or not as evil as they could've been AME!MC's case) otherwise they could've caused wars over their sex appeal

1) ILITW

Even without taking ILW as canon, ILITW!MC would still be on this list. But taking it as canon? God does this MC pull bitches. They have 7 LIs, having pulled almost every single person in their friend group, excluding their lesbian bestie. They're all so in love with them (as they should be!! They're the MC of all-time) that even if they became an eldritch horror-esqe shadow monster, their LIs would still fuck them (as they should!!)

[kinda-iconic]

Our Last Hope

Author's Notes: And so it is here, the next instalment of Amelia and Ernest's story. I cannot begin to tell you how long I have been working on this - so much so that I have had to split it into two parts! I have loved writing this so much, even though I have broken my own heart once or twice. I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x MC (Amelia)

Word Count: Over 3'500

Tagging: @princess-geek

Additional Tag list (due to past interest): @bloodboundismylife, @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire, @nala-raines

Song inspiration: Thank You (youtube.com) From the 'Queen Charlotte' Soundtrack

TICK.

TICK.

TICK.

Luke makes his way along the darkened corridor, a beam of silvery moonlight illuminating his path. He walks in silence, the sudden chiming of the grandfather clock causing him to startle. He takes a moment to recover, rolling out his shoulders before continuing, only to stop in front of an all-too-familiar door. He softly raps on the wood, pressing his ear against the door as if listening for movement.

But he hears nothing.

He looks down, frowning as his gaze befalls a slither of light underneath the frame. He knocks once more, this time accompanying his efforts with the verbal announcement of his presence.

“I know that you are in there, Ernest,” he waits for a response, but he is met with crickets; after a moment, he speaks again, his hand gently grasping the doorknob, “I am coming in.”

He justles the handle, just for a familiar voice to call back to him from the other side.

“There is no need. I am fine.”

Luke shakes his head, a soft smile escaping him, “I am afraid that I cannot accept that until I see you with my own eyes.”

When he receives no answer, Luke enters the room, quickly spotting Ernest, who sits quietly in his armchair, a glass of scotch nestled between his fingertips. He appears dishevelled, his hair unkempt, dark circles making their home under his eyes. He lifts the glass to his lips, downing its contents.

“You have seen me now,” Ernest retorts, exhaling harshly; he reaches for the decanter, his eyes focusing on the auburn liquid as it swirls around its encasement, “are you satisfied?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Ernest scoffs, shaking his head in drunken amusement.

“We cannot help but be concerned, Er-“

“It’s Mr Sinclaire to you,” Ernest counters, “my given name is not one that I allow to be spoken that freely.”

“Other than by Amelia, you mean.”

“Amelia is my wife,” he refills his glass, taking a grateful sip; the liquor burns its way down his throat, causing him to grimace, “that certainly is stronger than I remember.”

“Is that not what you were drinking before?”

“I have finished that bottle already,’ he lifts his glass in the air, gesturing to the empty chair beside him with a tilt of his glass, “drink?”

“If it means that I can watch over you for a little while.”

Ernest doesn’t answer; instead, he rises from his perch, pondering over to his liquor cabinet. He retrieves a fresh glass from within, his fingers fumbling over the rim as he tries to better his grip. Luke frowns, walking over with an offer of assistance.

“Let me help you with that…”

He reaches forward, but is stopped by Ernest, who raises a hand in dismissal.

“I am capable of collecting a glass, Mr Harper.”

He places the vessel down, filling it near enough to the brim. Luke winces, the sound being swiftly rebuked by the quip of Ernest’s brow.

“Have I displeased you in some way?”

“N-no, I just…” Luke lifts the glass to his nose momentarily; he takes a swig, clearing his throat soon after, his eyes enlarging as he watches Ernest finish yet another glass, “maybe you should slow down a little bit.”

“I would say that I am going at a fairly reasonable pace.”

“I meant with the drinking, Sir.”

“I drink as I see fit.”

A comfortable silence passes between the pair for a moment, neither daring to so much as utter a single word. It is only after a couple of minutes that Luke speaks, his expression growing sombre as he studies the broken man before him.

“Normally, you would not hesitate to ask someone to join you in this endeavour.”

“Well, I…I guess I just wanted to be on my lonesome for a little while.”

Ernest walks back over to his chair, slumping back into the leather.

“Is there anything that you need?” Luke enquires, “I can get one of the maids to make you something to-“

“You could get me another scotch,” he looks down at his empty glass, his brows knitting together in a frown, “I…seem to be out.”

“Have mine. Or at least…half of it.”

He retrieves Ernest’s glass, dividing the untouched liquor equally. He places the glass on the end table before meandering over to the fireplace, holding his dainty glass in his outstretched palm. After a moment, Luke tilts his head towards the spirit, his expression unreadable.

“I know it is not much,” he admits, carefully pondering the appropriateness of his following admission, “but I thought that it would be best not to supply you with more should the Doctor need to discuss anything with you.”

Ernest collects his offering, bowing his head in quiet appreciation.

“Is that something that you have decided upon yourself, or did the others influence that decision?”

When he is met with no immediate reply, he shakes his head, a despondent sigh escaping his lips.

“The amount I drink is no concern of yours, nor should it have ever been a talking point for your gossip.”

“Forgive me, Sir,” Luke appears hesitant, aware as to the severity of Ernest’s emotional state, “but we had no choice but to discuss it.”

“My,” Ernest retorts, his response almost sarcastic, “has the rumour mill already run dry?”

He downs the contents of his glass without pause, heading back over to the decanter; his brows furrow in concentration as he fixes himself another drink. He takes a swig, only turning to face Luke once his second glass is almost fully depleted.

“I am sorry that you have drawn the short straw tonight, Mr Harper,” his tone is hollow, “I am not exactly what one would call ‘pleasant’ company right now.”

Luke frowns, “that is not true in the slightest.”

“You were previously close to referring to me as a drunkard.”

“We are worried about you,” Luke takes another step towards to his counterpart, yet choosing to remain at a respectable distance, “if ever you would like anyone to step in and look after the child or sit at Amelia’s bedside-“

“I have no desire for either,” he stops himself short, giving in to his frustration, “I will take care of my family. They are my responsibility.” Ernest takes one last sip of his drink, the glass shaking slightly in his grasp as he forcefully slams it onto the table, “I’ll be damned if anyone else shoulders that.”

“You need rest, Ernest,” Luke approaches cautiously, placing a comforting hand on Ernest’s arm, “you have not slept since Amelia delivered, neither have you been eating properly.” He replaces the lid on the decanter, holding it by its neck before moving it elsewhere, “I can go and ask Briar or one of the kitchen maids if they could prepare-“

“I will eat when my wife is well and not a moment before.”

“What if Amelia doesn’t get better?”

The two men regard one another before Ernest looks away, casting his gaze out the window and to the ground below.

“I do not wish to talk about that.”

“But that is exactly why it needs to be spoken about,” Luke counteracts, “we have all spoken to the Doctor. We know the prognosis-“

“He had no right to discuss Amelia’s condition with any of you,” his exclamation is one of anger, his words laced with emotion and unwarranted venom, “the only one that has any right to know what is going on is me; nobody else.”

“So her brother doesn’t have any right to know how critical her condition is? Her family deserve to-“

“They are not the ones that will feel the impact of her absence the most.”

“No,” Luke’s face falls, his voice taking a sombre tone, “they’re not.”

Ernest retires to his chair, his fingertips gently grasping onto the hem of its material.

“How are you doing? I-I know that is a daft question, but…”

“I honestly cannot recall the last time that someone asked how I was,” Ernest murmurs, “that is not to say that people have not bothered with me, but rather…at least not verbally.”

Luke smiles sadly; Ernest takes his silence as an opportunity to continue.

“Amelia has never been one for fuss,” he smiles sadly as his mind begins to reminisce, “all of this…” he gestures softly with his hand, “all the doting and constant upheaval…it is the last thing that she would have wanted.”

“We do this because we care about her,” Luke interjects, “Amelia is one of us; she is, for better words, the glue that holds us all together.”

“That would be a beautiful sentiment if my wife was not lying unconscious in her death bed.”

“Ernest…”

He stands once more, his unsteady feet subconsciously carrying him over to the window, paying the drop of his name no mind. He remains stood in silence for a moment, his eyes fixated on the curtains before he speaks softly, his voice quiet and sombre, as if his hopefulness has diminished entirely.

“My wife…she is going to die. I cannot and will not sugar-coat it.”

“There is still hope that-“

“Hope?!” Ernest scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief, “if that is what you truly believe, then maybe you really are just like the rest.”

There is a short hesitation before Luke stands, brushing away the creases in his jacket.

“I will let that comment pass given the circumstance.”

Ernest remains quiet, his gaze set on the horizon as the sun begins to set once more. Knowing that there is nothing else that he can say to lift Ernest’s spirits, Luke collects his satchel from the ground, eyeing the insignia that has been skilfully carved into the leather.

“You may have given up, My Lord…but I have not,” he pauses momentarily, shouldering the bag, “I promised her father that I would watch over her, and that is what I intend to do.”

He makes his way over to the door, but he is stopped in his path by the sudden intrusion of Miss Sutton, her mouth hanging agape in surprise.

“Forgive me for the interruption…”

“Not at all, M’Lady,” Luke bows his head in acknowledgment before looking over at Ernest, his face aglow with disappointment, “I have nothing more to say.”

He leaves the room, closing the door softly behind him. As if sensing that he is still not alone, Ernest turns to Teresa, taking yet another sip of the liquor, “to what do I owe the pleasure, Viscountess?”

“The Doctor would like a word. He believes that Amelia might wake soon.”

“Has anything changed since I saw her last?”

“She is less clammy…and a little bit of colour has returned to her cheeks,” Teresa smiles warmly, “Percival is at her bedside with Harry and Briar.”

“I told Nanny Weskit to take him upstairs to bed.”

“He wanted to see his Mama,” she frowns, her brows furrowing slightly, “is that not a good enough reason for him to stay up past his bedtime?”

“Amelia is not his mother.”

“And you are not his father,” Teresa retorts, “but he treats you as such.”

Ernest falls silent, contemplating her words. She folds her arms across her chest, waiting for a response, but receives none. After a few minutes, she sighs in defeat, looking to the floor as she collects her bearings.

“Look…I understand that you are hurting…” she takes a cautious step forward, “but punishing yourself and taking out your frustrations on others…it is not helping, Ernest.”

He turns at the sound of his name, having not expected its use.

“I cannot begin to fathom what you are going through…but pushing us all away when you need us the most? It is not going to help you. It is not what Amelia would want.”

“I…understand.”

“Then let us in,” she walks over to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “allow us to help you. We can watch over Amelia…take care of the children-“

“That is my responsibility.”

“This is not something that you should have to shoulder on your own. We are here to support you.”

He smiles sadly, “I highly doubt that our mother-in-law would agree with that.”

“Henrietta refuses to agree with anything unless it directly benefits her,” she returns his smile, “I know that as much as anyone.”

“I am sorry that you have to endure her temperament so frequently.”

She shakes her head dismissively, “both yourself and Amelia have been subjected to much more than I, believe me.” She beams with pride, interlacing her arm with his own, “and with regards to Henrietta, I must insist that you remember that we are both interlinked. Neither you nor I need to face the brunt of her crassness alone.”

“How is that?”

“We married into this family,” her smile brightens as she looks down at her wedding ring, seemingly becoming lost in a memory, “we may not agree with how our mother-in-law chooses to present herself, but we endure her and everything that she throws our way out of the love and respect we have for her children.”

She exhales softly, giving his arm a comforting squeeze.

“Now, how about you and I join Harry for dinner. I dare not leave him alone with his mother and her meddlesome nature too long.”

“Henrietta is here?”

“Mmmm,” she nods, her lips pressing together in a thin line, “she arrived shortly after the dinner bell was rung.”

“I did not expect her to visit, especially not when Amelia is gravely ill.”

“I am afraid that I do not believe her visit to be for Amelia’s sake but rather her own.”

“She probably wants to witness Amelia herself, seeing as she so desperately clings to the idea that Edgewater rightfully belongs to the Viscount.”

Teresa frowns, casting her gaze downward, “I do wish that you would refrain from discussing Amelia like that, but I…I will not question your grievance.”

“Where is she now?”

“In the dining room, I believe.”

“Then I shall need you to deliver my apologies to the Viscount, for I do not wish to see her face at this given time.” He pauses, “nor will I sit for a meal whilst my beloved is unwell.”

“At least escort me down there,” her words befall that of a plea, “that way you are not left to stew in your own thoughts any longer than you have to be.”

Ernest hesitates, the notion causing him to bristle…but eventually, he nods.

“I…alright.”

The pair begin to walk down the hall towards the dining room, Teresa trying to engage Ernest in gregarious conversation, but as they turn the corner, a frosty voice calls out to them from ahead. Teresa stops almost immediately, her eyes met by an icy blue glare.

“I see that you have taken it upon yourself to entertain your wiles, Miss Sutton.”

“I was simply checking on Mr Sinclaire, Mother,” her last word spoken hastily with a hint of frustration, “it is his family that we are here to see.”

“Keeping company with your sister’s husband alone?” She tuts slightly, “whatever will the servants think?”

“I should hope that they would appreciate my compassion for the Countess’ husband and her children whilst she is ill.”

Henrietta huffs in annoyance, having not expecting Teresa’s witty retort.

“Careful now, Miss Sutton,” she smiles smugly, her words harsh and condescending, “the last thing you want is to be labelled as his dalliance.”

“To even suggest the notion-“

Henrietta chuckles to herself, swiftly changing the target of her bemusement as Ernest stutters, his cheeks reddening with anger.    

“Why are you getting so defensive over a baseless accusation?” She feigns surprise, a gasp of shock escaping her lips, “unless…unless there is some truth to it…”

“I have not and will never entertain the company of another woman. I am faithful to my wife!”

“But is she faithful to you, my Lord?”

Ernest inhales sharply, his eyes widening as his anger begins to boil over. After a moment of silence, he calls out to a member of his household as the lady passes him by.

“Forgive me for troubling you, Cecelia, but I am afraid that I am in need of a favour most urgently.”

The young woman bows her head in acknowledgement, “of course, Sir. What is it that you require?”

“Have a note sent to the Marlcaster estate. Tell them that my darling Mother-in-Law requires a carriage to escort her home at the earliest convenience.”

“But that is not-“

He holds up his hand, the gesture seeming to silence her immediately.

“Tell him that his mother has grown tired and wishes to rest in the comfort of her guest bed.”

“That is a LIE!” Henrietta snipes, turning swiftly with a scowl to face the maid, “I am not some old crone that takes naps in the daylight or needs assistance to complete the smallest of tasks. I am the mother of a Viscount! I DEMAND to be treated as such, even by YOU, Mr Sinclaire.” She smirks coyly, “you are forgetting your station, Sir.”

“And you seem to have forgotten whose home you currently reside.”

He regards Cecelia once more, his expression shifting to one of warmth, “I have changed my mind. Please forget everything that I told you to write down.”

“Do you…not request a carriage, My Lord?”

“On the contrary,” he looks down at his wrists as he speaks, reaching to adjust the cuffs of his shirt, “I do still require a carriage, though I am afraid that the wait is too long for my taste.” He lifts his gaze once more, fixing it on Henrietta, “ask Mr Harris if he would be so kind as to escort her ladyship back to her residence instead. Tell him that I shall pay him triple for his service.”

“And the note?”

“Kindly inform Edmund that his mother is no longer welcome at the Edgewater estate, for neither myself nor my staff are able to entertain her inexcusable and downright insulting presence any longer.”

“H-how dare you-“

“I am not finished,” he interjects, retrieving a pouch of coins from his pocket; he passes it over to Cecelia, his eyes still fixed on Henrietta, “this is a gesture of goodwill, see to it that Mr Marlcaster receives it. Maybe he might be able to purchase himself some earplugs to drown out her irritating voice.”

“Would you please just stop with that incessant whining,” he replies coldly, “my wife is on her death bed, and rather than be by her side I am stood here with you. Do you still not see why I am insulted by your mere presence at this hour?”

To Teresa’s surprise, Henrietta quietens. A young stable-hand approaches, tipping his head in acknowledgement.

“My Lord.”

“See to it that the lady finds her way to a carriage and out of my sight.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

Ernest responds with a curt nod; he spares her no second glance, instead turning on his heel and making his way back along the corridor in the opposite direction, disappearing as Henrietta is removed from the house. Teresa follows along after him, her footsteps hurried.

“Sir, you are going the wrong way!”

“My apologies, Miss Sutton.” He continues on, quickening his pace as he heads towards the stairwell, “but I must bid you goodnight.”

“What about escorting me to dinner?”

“I have spent so long dwelling on what may come to pass that I have forgotten to focus on the present,” he regards Teresa over his shoulder, “I am sorry, Miss Sutton. I know that I agreed to accompany you, but my priority must be my wife and child.”

Before she can get a word out, Ernest disappears up the stairs, completely blanking those that he passes on his way. Dejected, Teresa turns back in the direction to which she came, only to bump into Mr Harper.

“Where has he gone now?”

“Upstairs,” she sighs softly, looking at the flowers that decorate the railings, “he has gone to be with her.”

“Without dinner?”

“He will not eat, Mr Harper. He will not eat or drink…I fear that he is unwell.”

“He is concerned for Amelia’s welfare. We all are.”

“And what if he decides to journey down the wrong path? I worry for him.”

“As do I,” Luke smiles sadly, “but he is tending to Amelia. He will not leave her side.”

“He should be resting."

“I agree,” he tips his head, “but it is also a good thing.”

“How? I am afraid that I do not follow."

 “If he is with Amelia, then we know where to find him.”

“And if he starts to spiral?”

“Then we will be there to catch him,” Luke’s gaze travels to the landing above, his smile softening as he notes the opening and closing of Amelia’s chamber door, “I made a promise…and I intend to keep it.”

[uselessgay10101]

D&D Mc : I don't know about the purple dress. It is not exactly my color-

Miss Daly :

D&D Mc : .....Give it here-!

[clancykisser]

Ok I can't hold back when I want to talk about f/os on here, much less holding back on keeping who an unknown one was SO

-points- This is Henry Hart from the Henry Danger Movie that just came out a few days ago! I loved him SO MUCH in this movie, and since he's an adult in it I've decided to just say 'fuck it' and kiss him with a separate movie-only insert uwu

His tag is 🪢 Our ship tag is going to be Binding Force 🪢💌

[lover-also-fighter-also]

Confirmed that canonically MC is a half-Indian.

[lightneverfades]

"I don't want to lose Sebastian, but I don't think I have a choice..."

X

[findingdrake]

[bri1234]

Hi it’s your secret admirer 🌸

I was wondering if you could share anything about your pairing Daisy Hawthorne x Prince Clarke as well as your other pairing Clara x Mr. Sinclaire.

Pictures, favorite colors, favorite foods. If you use fc’s or have any references pics. Or even something you haven’t shared with us before. If you have a Pinterest board would you mind sending me a link to it?

Literally share anything you like to I’d appreciate it.

Thanks a bunch and have a wonderful day 🌸🌸

Hi there! I would love to share more about them😊 Thank you so much for reaching out! I really tried to include as much as I could think of, but if you need anything else, just let me know :)

Daisy x Clarke

I did just make a character sheet for Daisy if you wanted to check that out, but I've listed some more about both Daisy and Clarke below :)

Favorite color - Daisy's is yellow and Clarke's is like a turquoise blue.

Favorite foods - As an American, Daisy loves pizza. It will hands down always be her favorite food no matter what. Clarke could never turn down some Ismari blue crab lol

Favorite animal - Daisy has always loved butterflies. Clarke is very fond of horses, specially Ezra.

Favorite music - When studying, Daisy loves classical music. It helps her focus and get work done faster. But when she's not doing that, she's listening to all the pop music. I think she'd probably have Sabrina Carpenter's newest album on repeat lol. As for Clarke, I feel like he'd like rock music. Or like small bands that aren't known at all. It gives him a place to escape, especially when his parents are to overbearing.

Favorite place - In the States, Daisy's favorite place is either the Clevland Public Library or her bedroom in her mother's apartment. In Monterre, it’s the royal conservatory. As for Clarke, he honestly just loves anywhere that's not Ismar. That's why Monterre was such a breath of fresh air for him.

FC for Daisy - Amanda Seyfried

Daisy typically has her hair in a side braid like in the first picture, but sometimes she'll wear it down like in the second picture. If she does wear it down though, it's typically wavy and kind of has a curl to it.

Here are some clothing options I could see her wearing when she's not completing her princess duties lol

FC for Clarke - Aaron Tveit

And then here are some clothing options I can see Clarke wearing

Clara x Mr. Sinclaire

I haven't really developed Clara much yet, so I don't have a character sheet for her, but I have included the same as I did for Daisy and Clarke above :)

Also I do have a FC for Clara, but I don’t have one for Mr. Sinclaire yet.

Favorite color - Clara's is sage green and Mr. Sinclaire's is blue

Favorite animal - Clara loves horses. Ever since she was little, she has always been fond of them. Mr. Sinclaire doesn’t really have one, but he’s gotten used to all of Clara’s animal friends lol

Favorite pastimes - Clara very much enjoys playing the piano, along with painting. She’s become fairly good at both. Mr. Sinclaire can often be found reading one of the latest books of the time. He also likes to solve puzzles, or mysteries if you will.

Favorite place - During book three, there’s an option to pick where they would mostly reside, and I picked both Edgewater and Ledford Park, so think both of these will definitely be their favorite places.

FC for Clara - Idina Menzel

Oh and I have a mood board for them here :)

[kinda-iconic]

Just a little sneak preview of the next D&D fic of mine…this one has been in the works for MONTHS!

Let me know if you’d like tagging!

Hoping to release this angst-fest on Christmas Day - got to make the tears flow, you know? 😭

A quiet, comfortable silence passes between them; without warning, Amelia tries to lift herself up. Ernest reacts almost immediately, gently grasping her shoulders.

‘Amelia, what are you-‘

‘I-I n-need to…our d-dau-daughter-‘

‘You’re not well, my love.’ He holds onto her as her newfound strength begins to waver, carefully laying her back down onto the mattress, ‘you must get some rest.’

‘I-I f-feel f-fine.’

‘I am afraid that you are not. You are pale and clammy,’ he touches her forehead, ‘you are less hot to the touch, but you still appear to have a fever. I will not allow you to tire yourself further.’

She inhales sharply, fresh tears brimming in the corners of her eyes.

‘I…I d-do not w-want to d-die…’

His face falters, his eyes widening at the mention of the word.

‘What?’ He breathes out hastily, ‘why…why would you say that?’

‘I-I have h-heard you…a-all of you…’ her voice remains pained, every quiet word a labour, ‘I-I am dying, am I n-not? The-the doctor, he-he s-said that I-I was not longed for th-this world-‘

‘The doctor knows nothing.’

Amelia smiles sadly, reaching up to cup his cheek. He cradles her hand in his own, holding it against his skin.

[uselessgay10101]

Miss Sutton at tea with Ms Holloway- -And they were roommates!

Ms Holloway who has heard at least 20th times already- omg they were roommates...

Best part of Desire & Decorum was the fact that if you romanced Miss Parsons, she and MC would keep their relationship a secret forever, and every time someone referred to Miss Parsons as MC’s friend, MC would just be like “haha yes the best of friends it is us”

[lover-also-fighter-also]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Hey nijameyy..!!💜 (@lilworldzz)

D&D MC and Briar in another life.

[361forum]

"This is the B. Side", le tout premier morceau d'Akhenaton, sur le maxi des Choices Mc's, en 1988 (version Tony D. Mix)

La version Tony D Mix!

En 1988, avant qu’Akhenaton ait pris son nom de scène, il a posé un couplet, sous le nom de Chill Phil, sur le maxi des Choice Mc’s intitulé Let’s make some noise.Le morceau s’appelle The Real B Side, on retrouvera ce couplet sur la cassette audio IAM Concept. Cette version est la version Tony D. mix Mais il existe aussi la version Todd Terry Production mais aussi la version True Blue Mix

[ataleofcrowns]

New Chapter Released!

Hello again! Hope your winter has gone well ❄️

With the public release of this new chapter we’re continuing with the Crown's development as a monarch, while romance and courtly intrigue build further:

Friendship scenes to deepen your Crown's relationship with the other characters outside of your main love interest

Diverging paths depending on whether you chose to meet the peri trader in disguise, or arrange a meeting with Kham instead

Within those diverging paths, you will make further decisions on how to handle the peri trader and/or Kham, with big consequences for future chapters

Romance specific scenes, of course, with your chosen love interest!

A and R both have very different scenes for their high romance and low romance routes! D and X romancers are in the clear... for now

If you find any coding errors, typos, pronoun mistakes and such while playing, you can report those through this form! Thank you for all your patience and support, I hope you enjoy the new chapter with the nearing end of 2024 💖

For those that are unfamiliar with the game

A Tale of Crowns is a high fantasy romance story, told in the form of a text-based interactive novel with choice mechanics. The setting is inspired by Kurdish culture as well as other historical settings in the Middle East such as Ancient Persia, but it also draws heavily from other cultures and countries in the region.

Your character is native to Arsur, a vast empire overseen by a single ruler known as the Crown. Unlike traditional monarchies, however, the title is not inherited through blood. Whenever the Crown dies, their famed golden eyes pass on to the one chosen by the Spirits of this world to be the new Crown. In this story, your MC takes on that role.

There are four different love interests to choose from, whose genders will be customized to suit the preferences of your Crown. You can find more info about them on the blog page!

Also note that this current version of the game is safe for those 16 years and older.

Like the premise so far? Play it and give it a try! The entire game is free!

If you enjoyed the game, please reblog! Share it with your friends! Recognition and reader interaction is just about the only thing I get in return for creating it ❤️

[uselessgay10101]

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!!

This is a small Fanfiction for "Desire and Decorum"and is a Annabelle × MC fic.

(Also some aesthetic pictures cuz why not?)

Category: Some angst, fluff, romance.

Warnings: none

Triggerings: none

Words: 368

Ship/Paring: Annabelle × Isabella

Characters: Annabelle Parsons & Isabella Mills

Tagging: @scalpeljockeybrycelahela @fluffykitten246 @ntoraplayschoices @jayjaz14

(Also sorry if I left out a few things. I haven't finished the Annabelle romance yet (And I've seen other people's playthrough parts) and my last playthrough was Mr. Sinclaire...also yes I will write a fic for him too 😏😏😏)

It was unfair. Why couldn't the world just accept them for who they were? Why was it a husband or nothing? Isabella didn't mind having a husband, but now that she had met Annabelle...she couldn't imagine it anymore.

From the moment they met, as she had dropped her fan and she had given it to her, there was something there. A spark in the air that only they felt. When she told Annabelle she would rather marry her...she meant it.

When they had gone to the greenhouse to paint Isabella's portrait, if it weren't for how scared she was, she would have kissed her right there. When they had snuck off to hear what the men in the other room were saying and she finally kissed her, everything else disappeared.

She didn't care if Duke Richards walked in, she didn't care who else saw her, she didn't even care if it couldnt be more than that. She just kissed her. She pulled back and saw the love, care and affection Annabelle had for her. It was right. It didn't matter what anyone else said.

"Bella..."

"It's ok Annabelle. They won't come in for now anyway."

When she found out what relationship Mr. Chambers and Mr. Konvei had, she had never felt so close to someone. She and Mr. Chambers would just talk sometimes, explaining how they felt. Why? Why was it wrong? People just said it was wrong but...why?

When she and Mr. Chambers had to arrange their marriage, they knew it wouldn't be one of romantic love, but it would be an understanding one.

"I honestly wish it was Ms. Parsons on my arm."

"I think I understand how you feel Ms. Mills."

Her real marriage was secret, with only Mr. Chambers and Mr. Konvei as her Witnesses, but it was the most beautiful moment of her life. A diamond ring on her finger sparkilng under the night sky. So what if it wasn't a bride and a groom? It was still a wedding. It was still a vow that should be kept. And it was still love. And two women being in it didn't make it any less valid.

(Sorry it's so short I didn't know what else to write lol😣😅😆😆)