MxF ⟶Abandon hope, all ye who enter..⟵

[Goya]

✦ Hey there! ✦
Name's Goya, and I'd love to get back into roleplaying again, which shall also fuel my inspiration for art. This thread will be seeking MxF, that's just what I usually prefer. This thread will be updated with: Plot/Pairing ideas as well as writing/faceclaim samples.​

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Spoiler: About Me

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I'm a 20-something Science undergraduate from Europe who's been roleplaying since she's had her first laptop, so about 10 years. It helps me relax, so does drawing. I am not that into extensive fantasy, or sci-fi, currently.

Writing Schedule: I've also now gotten a job at a lab, so my schedule is quite busy; I try to reply once a week on average. If I don't that doesn't mean I've forgotten you, just life being busy. I tend to respond in the week.
Writing Style: Usually 2-3 solid paragraphs and about 600 words, will also depend on you: You give what ya' get.
Smut: Lovin' it, but it's the icing for the plot-cake. A story/smut ratio of about 60/40 and we're golden. I love buildup, immense sexual(as well as story-driven) tension and all related to it.
F-List: Kinks&Taboos
Dark and rough, mainly. Gore/Violence for the plot is also fine, but no one's limbs need to be blasted off.
Faceclaims: I vastly prefer sketching the character myself, but if you prefer I'll use a faceclaim of realistic/semi-realistic people.
Some Examples:

UPDATE: OCs now come with Voiceclaims!

Spoiler: Rules

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➣ I write in 3rd person and ask you do the same. I personally write in past tense, but present is fine.
➣ No one-liners. I don't need ya' to write a bible, but 1-2 paragraphs minimum I can work with.
➣I make typos, you make typos-All fine. I'm not a native speaker either, but would still appreciate decent spelling/grammar.
➣ Have patience, busy schedule, busy lives. I'll show you the same courtesy.
➣ Respect the smut list: If you want something clarified, are not sure about a certain kink that you may involve, I'll gladly answer ya'.
➣ Talk to me over DMs: I appreciate critique on the writing, on the characters and don't bite. Hell, even if you just want to chatter I'm all ears.
➣ All characters/RP partners > 18 years.
➣ Help push the story along, contribute to the plot, yada yada.
➣ Please don't respond to the thread if interested, DM me instead!

Spoiler: Ideas & Samples

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* for when I'd really crave that one, blue for the role I'd prefer.
➣ Vampire/Werewolf x Human*
➣ Mafia Leader x Civilian
➣ Princess x Knight/Rebel/Kidnapper
➣Jock x Nerd
➣ Victim x Yandere*
➣ Sniper x Enemy Sniper
➣ Butler x Maid
➣ Corrupt Officer(Military/Police) x Cadet
➣ Pirate x Captive/Navy Officer
➣ Wife x Husband's best friend
➣ Scientist x Test Subject/Alien
New!
Baldur's Gate! I can offer..
HalsinxTav/Companion
CazadorxTav/Companion
I'm also open to doubling with a Tav of my own^^
➣Your ideas and more, coming soon~

Apocalypse Now!

The good ol' zombie virus is running rampant, but our characters knew each other even before that. M/C would've been someone corrupt, an official of some kind, maybe a prominent figure they'd see on TV and loathe for whatever choices they make. A couple of years of disarray, my character may look for someone actually important to them and stumble upon Y/C. Y/C may've already been in a full blown shelter, from which plenty of the story may take place.

Who's the alien here?

(This is, I suppose, an extended Sci-fi that's got elements of Avatar, something of Dune and The Rain Children. Concept-wise I'd love to plot it out with someone further, and nothing is set in stone, it's merely bold brushstrokes and brainstorming) Y/C is an astronaut, sent off to explore a planet deemed uninhabitable, for it's as dry as the Sahara and looks accordingly. And for the first time, human-like shapes have been detected by a drone on it. Your crew is sent of to investigate further and is inevitably caught, brought underground, much cooler, much more liveable than the surface.

Who to trust?

(Something based on the Southern Reach Trilogy! No need to know it beforehand:from the concept onward, this can go wherever we like:)) MC and YC are sent off to an expedition into Area X:A patch of coast that's become one day isolated by a in invisible barrier and has become uninhabited for decades. There's reporting of bizarre biology that shall be documented. Where have the people gone?
YC and MC are only described by their assigned jobs(we can choose 'em, in canon it was sth like biologist, anthropologist, linguist..), they may both discover that they've been manipulated/lied to by their bosses about what this mission was about, or if they were ever deemed to return. The place is bound to change them, as well.

New folks in town

(Something occult~May have something of Midsommar)YC may've tried tracing back their family roots or their car may've just broken down on a trip by the countryside. How lucky they are that there's a small town just nearby! And the people, my, you won't find more smiling folks in a dentist's ad: When all YC and their friends wanted was a motel, everyone treats them like new neighbours. The town bustles with noise like a fair on school holidays; at night, you could hear a pin drop in the plaza.
The only normal one seems to be MC, and while YC waits for their car to be fixed, he's all too glad to be their tourist guide, for they've not had newcomers for a long time.

Writing Sample 1 Writing Sample 2 Writing Sample 3

• Flashes, the shutter has the bunker flicker in white every couple of seconds. A shiver in his fingertips as he turned the lens, leant over to get a better glimpse of the feminine face. Even with how human it seemed, even if it was female-he, out of lifelong habit, didn't say 'she'. It laid on the table, between his legs as he towered above, his face obscured by the shadow of the lamp behind as well as the camera in front. A bundle of zip-ties to each limb, pulling them to the corners, had to make do until he'd get back into the lab. The table left scratches across the floor. His obserative mumblings, descriptions of its markings, would eventually land on paper. The wounds and bruises were already cleaned and bandaged. Q-tips, containers and needles along with tranquilliser-all standard for hunting game, which also became private subjects. It is, ironically, only now that his heart had started pounding, like he was too busy observing to realise the implication of having the sole specimen of an extraterrestrial species. Right below him. Takes a strand of dreaded hair for closer view, a gentle tilt of the jaw, left and right, parting of the mouth as he notes the need for thorough UV-scans. Jacques begun to regulate his breath, lest the photos would suffer. If he had something like subjective thoughts on it, somewhere like a whisper in the back of his head, it'd be "What a pretty creature."Next, he delicately rose the eyelid with a nitrile-gloved hand, "Clear: No iris, no pupil-akin to Arachnida..". Jacques' voice was hushed as he spoke to himself, eyes wide and with a certain shine you'd think someone his age had lost. Eventually, all the panic of having stolen, essentially, government property begun to subside as he had tended to it. As he began justifying to himself that he's just taking a shortcut, past the bureaucracy. He needn't any other opinion to interfere, such amateurs would dissect it too soon, too impatient to appreciate the specimen when it's alive… And as he made such excuses, the lack of pupil had him not notice how it awoke.
• The knife was acknowledged by a disinterested glance, or maybe he just looked over her. With muffled groans he laid out on the bed to reveal the mess he was: Clothes torn like he's crossed both bears and wolves, revealing flesh wounds mixing with the dirt and grime sprawled all over him, soaking in along with the water. In spite of how he resembled the E;R victims, his breathing was strong, even if raspy. Even if he was still loosing blood that was so graciously recoloring her bed. He pressed the bloodied hand into his side, the whole ball of bandages in his grip as he must've given up tying it himself, with those few pieces thrown about. In spite of Sam's knife he shut his eyes, furrowed the brows..took a moment for him to flick the fingers, pointed at her, "Aaah-Sammy." And somehow he still grinned. He looked like roadkill and grinned. Shiny, bloodied canines. "And you were with that..that blonde one, yeah." He arched the back some, leant over the pillow as he continued his monologue, "Man, that feels like a long time ago." He looked utterly relaxed in his catastrophic state, even if his jaw still clenched. Whatever was on his mind now, he found it much more interesting than discussing her missing friend. Like she's left his conscious the moment Sam wasn't powering her memory. Mhm, and when when we talked all I thought was-", he pushed out a laugh, turned to her with those now utterly vibrant blues even in daylight, " 'You've got a lot of cats, don't'cha." It must've been enough that he got a chuckle out of it.
• Beeping, muffled running just beyond the office door with commands crying out for catheters; it was as quiet as it'd get. He slumped down his office seat and became invisible to any assistant by the wall of books on his desk, books ghat were about anything but what he originally qualified for. Sprinkled all over were news articles and wax-stamped letters. The bloodied nitrile gloves landed in the bin for medical waste, joining the blue-red mountain. 'Someone pick it up already'-mental note made. Dr. Jude Rodger had slipped his glasses over the cap, rested the elbows on his knees and drilled his thumbs into the temples, sighing. It was a miracle how he didn't regret having brute-forced his degree through the war-period. The one with vampires. That's right. He didn't even want to say the word, it sounded insane enough hearing it out of the villager's mouths: how they'd either hush about them or praise these 'beautiful beings' for their kindness of letting them live among them, when they were so unworthy of it. The emperor's clothes look fantastic. And monthly, ritualistic sacrifices were just always part of their lives, is what the children will learn in schools. And he too, carried on like nothing was off. Doing otherwise would not treat the diseases, would not get him to sleep without meds and would not keep a roof over his fiancée's head. The professionalism is embedded into him even now when no one was looking, as he breathed deeply to himself- there was a timer in his head, counting to 7 for an inhale, 11 for an exhale. And when he'd accept the next patient he will smile up to them just as they've been taught in Uni, a smile that reassured, a smile he kept on even with Ava.

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✦ Thanks for reading, looking forward to hearing from ya'~ ✦

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