D&D Stats Explained with Tomatoes
Papa Bear: I'm confused.
me: About what, Papa?
Papa Bear: You're possibly the most intelligent, insightful and empathetic person I've ever met. I hear you speak and I'm just in awe of your mind and your thought processes. It makes me want to destroy everything that could infringe your creativity or your prosperity. You've given me hope that the world isn't so hopeless because it still has people like you in it.
me: Papa...you're too nice to me
Papa Bear: And knowing all of this, and worshiping you for it, only further makes me want to...hurt you. And humiliate you. And make you scream and cry, beg me to stop. Make you say obscene, filthy things. Make you tremble and pass out. I want to make you bleed. I want to make you look up at me with your mouth stuffed with my cock like you can't even see me because I've fucked the life out of you.
Papa Bear: It makes Papa feel bad sometimes.
me: ...It's hard feeling like I have to try to make the world a better place, and feeling like I gotta do my best to understand people, even if I don't want to. And feeling like I need to constantly alter my behaviour or the way I think so that I can...I dunno, just be a good person. You know what makes me feel most peaceful?
Papa Bear: Tell me.
me: When I'm staring up at you half consciously, with your cock stuffed in my mouth, and barely able to see you from my tears. I feel precious. I feel empty and sacred. I feel loved, Papa. I don't want you to feel guilty for giving me what could be the purest happiness I ever felt.
Papa Bear: Baby...
me: I love you for all of you, even the monster. Especially the monster.
Papa Bear: You're my monster.
me: You're my Papa Bear. You were made for me. I don't want you to ever change. Promise.
Papa Bear: I promise, little love. Papa will never change if you don't want him to.
me: I love you, my monster.
Papa Bear: I love you, my little angel.