laughing that fades into crying

So your RP community is dying

I saw this post last night and, in my usual way, typed out a big fiery response to it highlighting the problems with the idea and how the idea itself didn’t address the problem it was intending to solve. Rather than leave it at that, here are some tips for those facing the same situation. 

Be the first to extend the olive branch

I know. The person you’re dealing with said something stupid, they don’t care about lore, and they did a bad thing in RP. I know, it sucks. But the fact is that if anything good is going to come of it, someone has to be the first to put out their hand and say “Look, forget it, let’s move on.” Don’t sit there waiting for them to do it. Don’t justify to yourself that it was all their fault and that if anyone should apologize, it should be them. Because apology isn’t what this is about. It’s forgiveness and a willingness to move on. Besides that, if you truly wish they hadn’t done it and wish they wouldn’t do it in the future, you’re not going to encourage them in that direction if you shun them completely. Show them that you want to give it another shot and be the first to ask for a return to square one. 

Demand proof of rumored wrongdoing

“Don’t RP with that person. I heard they said ___ to ___. I also heard that their guild ___s with ___.” Fill in the blanks with whatever would make you most upset to hear. “I heard they said ‘kill yourself’ to so-and-so.” Anything of that sort. Now, before getting angry and hating that person forever, go down the list. Do they have proof? Have you spoken to this person before hearing this rumor about them? Do you know them well? Do you know anyone you trust who can be a witness to their character? If two or more of these are in question, don’t be too hasty to reach a conclusion. Even if the person telling you in the first place is trustworthy to you, they may have heard it from an untrustworthy source with an agenda. Ask yourself if believing this rumor would ruin the rumored person’s reputation or cause others to avoid them. If so, there may be an ulterior motive for whoever started the rumor. 

Be flexible

A sign of a new roleplayer is their tendency to play fast and loose with the lore. Think back to when you first started roleplaying. In Warcraft, did you know that Night Elves and Blood Elves really, really hated each other? Did you know that Gnomes weren’t believers in the Light in the days before Cataclysm? These and similar misunderstandings can cause your RP to be misinformed and incomplete. Before you consider chewing the player out for not having read about every playable race, every faction, every class, every zone, and every novel in the Warcraft canon, ask them if they’d like someone to talk to about lore and how it affects their character. Don’t demand them to change their RP! Instead, suggest changes that will better allow them to fit into the community. It may be their $15 a month at the end of the day, but they’ll have a lot more fun if they have a wider pool of people to interact with. Make sure you tell them that you want to help them for this reason. Don’t help them just to satisfy yourself. (I’ll try to make another post more in depth about this)

Don’t bow down to popular rule

“But NetherStray,” you might say, “isn’t the idea of a community tightly rooted in the desires of majority opinion?” It is, yes, but the goal of integrating new players isn’t to make them conform to what the community wants. The goal of integrating new players is to help them find RP partners. That’s it. By improving how they interact with the rest of the community and by teaching them some basic do’s and don’ts of RP, you improve their chances of finding their own little community to exist in within the greater community. Whether that’s a guild or just a circle of friends is irrelevant. If they’re comfortable in the community, they’ll be willing to reach out. They’ll be more comfortable making new characters and trying new things, and when your community is in decline, pulling in new talent is much more important than retaining old talent. People will leave a community if nothing new ever happens. 
So where does popular rule come into this? It comes into all of it. Along the way, there will inevitably be fellow RPers who want to dismiss the new bloods. “Hah, look at this noob! They barely know the lore! What’s with their TRP? God, they’re so Mary Sue. Not everyone needs to be a special snowflake.” 

Stomp that shit out. Wow, you mean the person who’s new doesn’t know everything? You mean they’re not an amazing writer right off the bat? Say it isn’t so! It’s up to you to kill this negative talk right where it stands. Successful people don’t talk down to others. They don’t try to hold other people back. They see potential where others see ineptitude. Don’t be that asshole who could have been decent but instead decided to be a jerk, the person who made them think “Maybe I should just give up.” Lift others up. And sure, they’re not the best. Sure, they have work to do. They could improve! But they never will improve if they’re given a hard time every time they try to do something!

Conclusion, and why I’m doing this

As you might have read in the previous post, I’ve seen this happen on my original server. Once a bustling RP server with lots of active guilds, active stories, and fantastic players, the server has dwindled to only a few active guilds and cloistered players who stick to guild events and whatever social media website they’ve all flocked to this week. Too little was done to keep new players coming back. Too much was done to discourage new players from continuing to try, from improving further. Too many people were content to laugh at the new while crying that the old was fading away. 

You have to come to terms with the fact that if something isn’t growing, it’s dying. Whether it’s a business or an RP community, it’s always a building sinking into the sand. People will retire, they will grow bored of the mundane, and they will have plenty more good reasons to leave. The only protection against sinking completely is to keep building. And while events and well-meaning community leaders may try to inject life back into it, it’s the individual RPers and their everyday interactions that matter most. 

Support the newbies. Be the helping hand you would have wanted when you first arrived. Be the voice against doubters and haters that you would have wanted when people doubted and hated you. 


Requested by an Anon: Hey! So, I was thinking that, if you can, do one from reader’s perspective where she is in the most dangerous “prisons"in hell (there are little to no guards) and she’s there because of Crowley. She needs to escape from there to go back to Sam (he gives her motivation). Sorry if it’s too specific. Thank you

Pairings: Sam x Reader


Warnings: None 1283 (without the tags at the bottom)

Sam’s arms wrapped around me, I felt so safe. I looked up, his hazel eyes were full of love. I laid my head on his chest, letting him away me back and forth. It was so comforting and I felt safe. I let out a content sigh, and melted into his embrace.

 He pulled back, brushing my hair away from my face. Leaning forward, his lips brushing against my ear. “I love you.”  Then he let out  laugh,  I pulled back, as he started to fade away. I let out a cry, reaching out, I tried to pull him back.I heard him call out “Don’t give up, keep fighting!”

 The maniacal laugh filled the room, my head snapped up from the floor. Crowley was leaning against the wall. “What a positively disgustingly sweet dream that was. Now Kitten,  are you ready to give up on the Moose and marry me?”

 I raises up from the floor, glaring at him. “I rather rot  here then marry you!”

 “Suit yourself! You could have have a beautiful life as my Queen!” I watched him slam the door shut and walk away. Whistling as he walked down the hall, instantly the snarls and growls of the hellhounds started. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

 I closed my eyes and started to sing, the snarls and growls stopped. I could feel the heat from their bodies as they brushed up against me. It scared the hell out of me that I couldn’t see these killer beasts, but I could hear and feel them.  One of them nuzzled against my hand, I remained calm, petting the invisible animal.

 “Nice doggies.” I eased my way to the door, continuing to sing. Placing my hand on the handle, I was surprised it was unlocked.  I looked out into the hall. There was no one, I quietly slide into the hallway. I could feel the beasts staying close to my side, I leaned against the wall.

 Closing my eyes, exhaling slowing, “Cas, if you can hear me; I really need you!”

 I opened my eyes and waited; nothing happened.  I picked a direction and took off at a run.  praying it was the right way; the whole time silently calling for Cas to up me.

 I abruptly stopped, when a figure stepped out in front of me. I stumbled backward, falling to the ground. “Hey Sugarbear!”

 He smiled at me, it looked and sounded like my Uncle Bobby. He reached out his hand a smile on his face. “Take my hand, and we’ll go home. You’re so pathric, I’m the only one that can stand you. I have to love you!”

 “Get away from me!”  I knew he wasn’t real, that he was a hoax, my Uncle is in heaven. Cas had told me that’s where he was. I heard the hellhound snarl at the figure before me, I kicked at his knee, watching him tumble to the ground.  I jumped up and over him, running blindly down the long endless hall.

 Something shoved from behind, I fell to my knees.  I felt the sting as they scraped against the floor. I pushed myself up, wincing in pain, rolling over to my back, my eyes widening at the man standing over me.

 “Look what we have here. I can’t believe my brother ever loved you. You’re pathetic and useless!”

 I shook my head, tears welled up in my eyes, hearing these poisonous words were killing me. I knew he wasn’t real, that this was some demon, pretending to look like Dean.  It still hurt because in the back of my head, I had the same thoughts about myself.

 “You’re not here!” I shook my head. “You’re not real!”

 “Oh but I am sweetheart!” I felt his hands on my body. His hot breath on my face. “Sammy, come tell her!”

 Sam walked out of the darkness with Jessica on his arm. This couldn’t be real, she had been gone for almost thirteen years.

 “Sorry (Y/N), you were just an amusement to pass the time. I could never love someone like you. I mean you let yourself get kidnapped by Crowley. “

 I stood up, my legs were wobbly, I stared at Dean and Sam. “ATTACK!”

 I heard the snarls and growls, I watched Sam and Dean being torn apart by the hellhounds. I ran down the hall, coming to a iron door, I struggled to push it open.

 “For the love of Chuck..please…help me!” I felt a rumbling, and heard a crash, then everything went black.


 I woke up in a field of wild flowers, my body was sore. I slowly got up, taking inventory of my body. Wearing a white gauzy dress, and barefoot, my heart started to race. I was dead, Chucks idea of help, was to bring me to heaven.

 Not exactly the kind of help I wanted, I guess I should have been more specific. At least I didn’t have to worry about marrying Crowley, and I wasn’t in hell. I lifted my head up, and felt the sun on my face for the first time in I don’t know how long.

 I heard the grass rustling behind me, I turned whirled around, my breath caught in my throat. Sam was walking towards me,  I closed my eyes and shook my head. “This isn’t real!”

 “(Y/N)!” Sam came running towards me.

 I closed my eyes, shaking my head. “YOU’RE NOT REAL! YOU’RE NOT REAL! YOU’RE NOT REAL!”

 I felt his hands cradle my face. “Open your eyes”

 I slowly opened my eyes, staring into his hazel ones. His beautiful smile greeting me. I still didn’t want to believe it. What if Chuck didn’t help me, and I was cast into some sort of special hell.

One Crowley created to punish me for refusing to marry him and trying to escape. I backed away, tears running down my face.

 “This isn’t real….I’m still in hell!” I spun around in a circle.  “It isn’t going to work Crowley….”

 Sam wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him. “I’m really here, baby.”

 “Please….stop…” I didn’t want to give in, but I was so tired of fighting it all I crumbled to the ground. I felt him kneel with me, his hands on my shoulders.  

 “We’ve known each other since we were ten, I use to get so excited when I knew you were visiting Bobby’s.”  He kissed the top of my head,  “I fell in love with you when I was fifteen, but was to stupid to do anything about it.” I sat there and just listened to him, leaning into his embrace. “Life took us in different directions, but it eventually led us back to each other.” He said softly, his hands stroking my back.

 I pulled away from him, wanting to believe that he was real. “Are you really here? I’m afraid I’m still in hell, that Crowley is torturing me because I won’t marry him. I’ve fought so hard to get out and get back to you. If this isn’t real…” I started to sob, I looked up at him. “ I asked for Chuck and Cas to help me…maybe you’re my heaven!”

 He smiled at me, picking me up. “I’m real, and you aren’t in heaven. I woke up this morning, and something told me to come here. I’ve been trying to find you for months….”  He pulled me closer kissing me.  “I love you (Y/N), come home with me.”

 “I love you too…”  I knew in my heart he was real, and I was safe. “Let’s go home. “  


@notyourtypicalpunkgirl  @small-town-wayward-daughter @impalaimagining @clairese1980 @charliebradbury1104 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @sweetchaosturtle @winchester-negan-one-shots  @miru186

(( Ship Warning: This Fic contains Lewthur (Lewis x Arthur)

Yoooooo so it’s finally time to post a thing about this: this anon came into my inbox a whileeeeee ago and I ended up asking the anon if they were okay if I made it into a drabble instead of a magic anon since anything related to this magic anon would be considered AU territory because I consider all my Lewthur writing to be in AUs since my Lewis is straight and not interested in Arthur romantically.

So yea, here is a drabble where Mallew’s memories suddenly become quite clear…and he finally understands the situation in full…

Update: a sequel to this drabble can be found here!))

Keep reading


How can you hold an image in your mind?
To see
To feel
To touch
To find yourself lost in the glittering illusion that gives credence to the parlance of emotion?
You spell it out,
Folding it
Rolling it
Wrapping it
Tight, and tighter still about My cerebellum, until I can taste the flavor of ink that drips from the font of your pen.
How can I offer thanks for the lover and friend that has thrown words into My face
Slashing them
Screaming them
Impaling them
Into the darkest parts of My measured mind, sliding them unaware under the door to taunt?
Handing them out like candy to tease Me until I, in turn, answer in kind.
To fall into the vortex of languages spell, drifting along the hidden currents that sparks wildfires in the core of creative intuition.
Flung high..battered and beaten against the walls that fight to hold you down, and rebelling with each soul dripping splatter of venom that marks your mouth.
Or sent running over moon drenched meadows , silvers and gilded, laughing
Until the words fade from the screen, only to find they have been left in burning marks on the insight that was given, the window to a soul opened for a tiny glance into dreams
Given freely                                                                                                    

 For 12 seasons, Sam and Dean have been driving their 67 Impala into our lives, and today marks the anniversary of the first episode. Since then our boys have literally been to Hell and back. They’ve made many friends along the way, and far too often, those friends faded away. Our boys have made us laugh, they’ve made us cry, and even made us mad. Their stories are a part of us and they’re forever in our hearts. 

It’s been a hell of a ride, and here’s to many more!

Happy Supernatural Day, from two fans to so many more. Happy Hunting. 
~Chels and Allison.