YourSweetestDream
Serf
- Local time
- Today 11:45 AM
- Messages
- 2
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Hers
Hi there~
I'm YourSweetestDream, but if you get to know me better, you might just learn my real name—maybe! For now, you can call me Dream or Sweetness.
I've been away from the roleplay scene for about two years, and I'm on the lookout for a partner to help me shake off the dust and dive into some fun ;) scenarios.
A bit about what I'm seeking: I'm hoping to find a partner who enjoys playing a character with a bit of a cold, mysterious edge, but who has a special soft spot for my character. Something about my sweet, innocent nature and kind demeanor catches your eye, and you feel drawn to protect me. I love creating detailed, immersive stories, and I'm open to brainstorming roles that suit both our interests.
I'm not into playing dominant roles, so if that's what you're looking for, we might not be the best fit. But if you're still with me, you're off to a great start!
I'm open to roleplaying in either first or third person. I've got some fun, fresh ideas to explore and am eager to see where our creativity takes us.
Let me know if there's anything you'd like to adjust to the following prompts. Stars next to prompts I'm especially excited for.
--
Hana Goldbrass, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, appears to live a life many would envy: a powerful and influential family, immense wealth, and a loyal friend. However, behind closed doors, her existence is far from ideal. Her mother is fiercely protective of the family's reputation, resorting to severe measures to maintain it, and imposes strict rules on her children. Her father is distant and harsh, using physical punishment to discipline her if she were to step out of line - or, on somedays, just because he feels like it. Mirabella has learned to conceal not only the physical marks but also the emotional scars of her upbringing. Her brother Matthew, who is following in their father's footsteps, shares his disdain and often treats her with contempt.
As she reaches marriageable age, Mirabella is expected to marry into a prestigious family. Instead, her father, finding it amusingly cruel, has arranged for her to wed a common knight. "Don't look so down, Mira. Be glad he agreed to marry you. It wasn't easy finding someone willing," her father remarked as her maid finished preparing her hair and veil.
Husband's Background and Current Situation: (Can be adjusted or altered altogether depending on your needs.)
Sir Dimitri, Mirabella's new husband, began his military career as a lowly squire, an entry-level position often tasked with menial duties and serving higher-ranking knights. His humble beginnings in this role did little to hint at the exceptional path he was destined to follow. Through relentless dedication, formidable martial skills, and an unwavering sense of discipline, Dimitri quickly distinguished himself on the battlefield.
His rise was rapid and impressive. From squire, he advanced to the rank of knight, where his strategic acumen and unyielding commitment to duty earned him command over small units. Over time, his reputation for tactical brilliance and combat prowess grew, leading to his eventual promotion to command entire armies. Dimitri became a war hero, celebrated for his decisive victories and feared by many for his strict enforcement of discipline and unrelenting approach to warfare.
Known for his stern and distant nature, Sir Dimitri commands immense respect and instills fear through his strict adherence to rules and consequences. His interactions with others are often marked by a lack of warmth, reflecting the intensity and seriousness with which he approaches both battle and daily life.
Roleplay Scene Idea: (A possible scene I would like to include at some point in the roleplay.)
Sir Dimitri had been back from the war for several months, and his presence had begun to settle into the household's routines. But tonight, the attack on their home has left Mirabella's heart racing and her hands trembling. As the chaos subsides and the immediate danger passes, Mirabella's adrenaline slowly wanes, leaving her visibly shaken. She barely registered as Dimitri came into the room. Her husband turned his attention to her. The sight of her pale face and trembling form immediately draws his concern. He strides over to her with purposeful steps, his face a mask of controlled intensity.
Mirabella wraps her arms around herself, trying to steady her nerves. When Dimitri approaches, she jumps slightly, her anxiety still palpable. He speaks in a calm yet authoritative tone, "Are you alright?" His voice is firm but laced with genuine concern as he gently places a hand on her shoulder to turn her to face him. Taking a deep breath, Mirabella looks up at him, her voice quivering slightly as she responds, "Y-yes, I'm fine." Despite her words, she flinches when his hands move from her shoulders to carefully inspect her. "Let me check you for injuries," he says, his tone giving no room for an argument.
He methodically examines her, his touch both deliberate and reassuring. His hands move gently but with a practiced efficiency as he checks for any signs of harm. "We need to ensure you're unharmed," he says, his voice low and focused. 'And I will have a head for every mark left on you.' Recognizing that he should not say that particular thought aloud and further her anxiety. As he continues his inspection, he comments on each small mark or bruise he finds. "That's one…" he says quietly, his gaze scanning her for any further injuries.
Mirabella, her heart still racing from the attack and the adrenaline, tries to remain calm under his scrutiny. Dimitri's thorough examination, though tense, is done with a level of care that contrasts with his usual stern demeanor. As he finishes, he places a reassuring hand on her arm, his expression softening slightly.
"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks again, his concern evident. Mirabella nods, grateful for his attention and the underlying warmth hidden beneath his cold exterior. Despite the recent turmoil, this moment reveals a glimpse of the depth of his care for her.
All Blair Kane wanted in life was to finish college and secure her dream job as a psychiatrist. Known for her exceptional academic performance, she far excels in her studies than her classmates, consistently ranking at the top of her class. Her dedication extends beyond the classroom; she volunteers whenever she can, driven by a genuine desire to help others. She also enjoys having a social life, often attending parties and social gatherings when her schedule allows. These outings are a rare opportunity for her to unwind and enjoy herself.
Her resilience and independence are rooted in her challenging upbringing. Blair's mother left the family when she was a child, leaving her with a workaholic father who was often absent from her daily life. Growing up largely on her own, Blair learned to be fiercely self-reliant, managing her own responsibilities and navigating life's challenges without much guidance. Despite her difficult past, Blair has developed into a strong, independent individual with a clear vision for her future. Her experiences have shaped her into someone who is not only highly driven and accomplished but also capable of handling adversity with determination and grace.
Starter:
All Blair Kane wanted in life was to finish college and secure her dream job as a psychiatrist. However, her plans took an unexpected turn one night at the Afterhours bar. She had gone out with a couple of friends to unwind before a big test in their Modern Psychology class. As they drank and became increasingly intoxicated, Blair struggled to keep track of the two giggling girls.
"Stay here," she instructed them before heading to the bar to get two glasses of water. As she tried to catch the bartender's attention, she found herself pinned to the bar as hot air brushed her cheek. From the outside, it would seem like there was just no room at the bar, but when his hand wandered to her rear, she knew that wasn't the case. Turning sharply, she glared up at the man. "Hands off," she growled, slapping his hand away before giving up on her mission.
Weaving through the crowded bar, she glanced back to see the man following her, his eyes glinting with an unsettling malice. Frustrated, she sighed in defeat when she couldn't spot her friends at their table. Determined not to give the man more ground, she continued forward. "Come back," he yelled over the music, grabbing her upper arm. "Stop playing hard to get, you dumb bitch.." His hand tightened around her as he tried to pull her closer, but she pushed him away. "Leave me alone," she shouted, pushing through the crowd again.
With no one paying her much attention, Blair spotted a table where the crowd seemed to reflect off an invisible barrier. She pushed her way through and stumbled into the open space, quickly taking a seat. "Please pretend you know me," she whispered to one of the men at the table, grabbing his hand. "The bartender barely acknowledged me," she called out loud enough for the drunk to overhear, glancing nervously at the man still advancing. The drunk man, undeterred by Blair's plea, came forward to grab her arm again. "We were just starting to have fun, babydoll," he stumbles over his words. The man at the table, observing the situation with growing disapproval, scowled up at the drunk and raised an eyebrow. "I would let go of her," he said, his voice smooth and deep. The drunk man glared down at him, challenging, "Or what?" The unknown man's eyes, however, held a dangerous glint. "I suggest you leave before you find out," he said, his voice growing increasingly menacing. The drunk's bravado faltered as he took in the serious look on the man's face, and he hesitated before retreating, muttering under his breath.
Clarissa Wentworth is a figure marked by centuries of existence and experience. Her story began with a tragic awakening in the forest, where she first encountered the brutal reality of her new existence. Waking to a sore neck and an overwhelming thirst, she found herself disoriented and confused, with her voice hoarse and her throat aching. As she stumbled upon the forest floor, the sound of distant voices piqued her attention. Driven by an instinctual hunger, she chased after the figures and, driven by a primal need, ended up draining them of their blood. The guilt and horror of her actions hit her hard, marking the beginning of a long journey through the shadows.
Centuries have passed since that fateful day, during which Clarissa has navigated the complex world of immortality. She has adapted to a life of secrecy and survival, honing her abilities and managing her predatory instincts with a mix of skill and discipline. Despite her long life, she remains haunted by her early actions, which have shaped her understanding of her existence.
Now, in the present day, Clarissa resides in a modern setting that contrasts sharply with her ancient origins. Her home reflects a sophisticated taste, with a comfortable living room where she often finds solace. Despite the passage of time, she maintains a connection with Alistair, her companion in the nocturnal world. Their bond is rooted in mutual respect and a shared commitment to managing the complexities of their existence.
Starter:
Clarissa Wentworth woke with gasp, her head pounding before she registered a thirst she had never experienced before. Squinting against the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy, she groaned and pushed herself off the ground, her legs unsteady. "Where am I?" She muttered, her voice was rough, each word bringing a painful scratch to her throat. As she tried to orient herself, she caught the sound of voices in the distance. Instinctively, she froze and focused on the faint figures she could see a mile away - later realizing she could see the people clearly despite the distance. Taking a hesitant step toward them, the sound of their movement grew fainter, pushing her into action. Driven by a force she hadn't anticipated, she sprinted through the trees. The forest blurred around her until she suddenly halted. Without fully grasping what she was doing, she lunged at one of the figures, her fangs sinking into his throat. A low moan escaped her as the rich, metallic taste of blood touched her tongue. Minutes later, as she drained the couple of their life force, the enormity of her actions hit her with crushing force. Overwhelmed by guilt and grief, she fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the terror-filled eyes of her victims. The weight of her actions pressed heavily on her chest, and a low sob escaped her as she mourned the loss she had inflicted.
Centuries later, Clarissa was curled up on her couch, sipping from a glass of wine. Her living room was a blend of comfort and elegance, reflecting her long life and refined tastes. As she flipped through channels on the TV, she stopped on a news broadcast. The anchor's voice caught her attention: "...this morning, there was another body found in the forest. Officials are warning people not to hike or camp until the animal causing these attacks is found..."
With a sigh, Clarissa reached for her phone and dialed Dimitri's number. The call rang a few times before he answered. "Don't tell me you were messy again," she teased, rolling her eyes as she remembered his occasional tendency to leave behind traces of his kills. Her smile faded as Dimitri's voice came through, serious and concerned. "No. I just heard as well. Judging from your reaction, it wasn't you?" Frowning, Clarissa listened to the news report, piecing together the details. "It sounds like a newbie," she said, a smirk forming on her lips as she realized the implications. "Newbies are always a problem. Are you up for a hunt?"
Rosalie Hunt has always been a lone wolf. Abandoned by her mother at six months old and neglected by a father who sought refuge in alcohol, Rosalie learned to rely solely on herself from a young age. Her solitary upbringing honed her resilience and self-sufficiency, qualities that led her to be recruited by a company right out of high school. The company, founded by Matthew, offered to cover her college expenses in exchange for working on a contract basis. Their initial meeting in a small coffee shop sparked an instant connection and deep chemistry, marking the beginning of a significant relationship both professionally and personally. Over the years, Rosalie has advanced through the ranks within the company, becoming one of their top members. Her exceptional skills and high pick rate have distinguished her from her peers, making her a valuable asset.
Possible Starter:
Rosalie Hunt trudged through the pouring rain, her clothes drenched in rain and blood, both her own and her marks, and her distress was palpable. She approached Matthew's house, each step weighed down by anxiety and exhaustion. As she pushed open the door, her breath came in ragged gasps, and her usual confident demeanor was replaced by visible turmoil.
Entering the house, she made her way to the living room, where she found Matthew and his partner engaged in an important conversation. The moment Matthew's eyes met Rosalie's, his expression shifted from focused professionalism to concern. He immediately stood up, leaving his partner behind, and crossed the room to meet her. "I'm sorry, I know you're busy but—" Rosalie began, her voice trembling and her breathing erratic. Before she could finish, Matthew interrupted her with a sharp, "Are you okay?" His concern was evident as he began to examine her for any signs of distress or injury.
Matthew's partner, who had been watching from behind him, walked up and asked, "What is she doing here?" Her voice was laced with disdain, but her question was abruptly cut off. Matthew, with a tone Rosalie had never heard before—cold and commanding—said, "Leave." The woman's smirk faltered as she glanced down at Rosalie before replying, "Yes. Do leave us alone."
But Matthew's gaze never left Rosalie. He directed his stern voice at the woman, "No. Not her. Never her. You leave, now." His voice grew more serious, reflecting his growing realization of the gravity of Rosalie's state. As he took in the sight of Rosalie, not her usual self, his concern deepened.
The woman, now taken aback by Matthew's fierce reaction, hesitated before exiting with a haughty glance back. Matthew's full attention was on Rosalie, his worry evident as he sought to understand the cause of her distress.
Some Background:
Nyla, the princess of a besieged kingdom, is renowned for her bravery and skill in combat. Despite her royal status, she chooses to fight alongside her people to protect her homeland from invaders. Her formidable enemy is Kael, a feared tyrant with a dark reputation. Their encounters have been fierce and personal, marked by intense battles and a mutual animosity.
Roleplay Scene: (Something I would like to add, if possible. If not, I would like the story to give these vibes.)
The battlefield was a tumultuous scene of clashing armies and raging fires. Amid the chaos, Princess Nyla fought valiantly, her sword a symbol of her unyielding spirit. Despite her courage, the battle was turning against her forces. An enemy's blade found its mark, and Nyla, exhausted and still injured from the poison in her system, fell to the ground, her strength waning. Kael, who had been strategizing from the rear, saw Nyla's fall through the haze of smoke and blood. His usual cold demeanor cracked as he watched her crumple. Pushing through the ranks of his own soldiers, he cut a path toward her, his focus unyielding. He never expected her to falter, to fall..
When he reached her, the battlefield seemed to blur into insignificance. Kael gently scooped Nyla into his arms, her royal armor bloodied and her eyes fluttering weakly. The sight of the once-powerful princess in such a vulnerable state pierced through Kael's hardened heart. "No..no... Nyla, stay with me," Kael pleaded, his voice a rough whisper, barely audible over the distant sounds of conflict. His hands, usually so controlled and precise, were now trembling as he held her. The sight of her fading strength and the light leaving her eyes struck him with a profound sense of dread.
Nyla, her regal bearing now fading due to her suffering, looked up at Kael with a mix of pain and something akin to forgiveness. Her final breath was a whisper of confusion and acceptance, "Why... did it come to this?" As her eyes closed and her breath ceased, Kael's heart shattered. A gut-wrenching scream tore from his throat, a primal, heart-rending cry filled with anguish and regret. The sound was so devastating that it seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the world around him. From his scream, a wave of dark energy erupted, swirling violently and consuming everything in its path. The once chaotic battlefield was now enveloped in a darkness that obliterated the surrounding chaos. The ground trembled, and the air crackled with malevolent force as Kael's sorrow and fury manifested into a destructive tempest.
The destruction was swift and absolute. The remaining soldiers scattered in terror, the land scarred by the aftermath of Kael's unleashed grief. As the darkness dissipated, it left behind a devastated landscape and a solitary figure kneeling beside the lifeless body of the princess.
Kael, now alone amidst the ruin, cradled Nyla's body, his armor dented and bloodied. His usually implacable expression was replaced by one of profound sorrow. The princess he had fought against, whom he had come to both despise and respect, was now the focal point of his deepest regrets and unspoken affections. In the silence that followed, Kael's emotions were laid bare. The battlefield, once a place of enmity, had become the backdrop for a love that had transformed from fierce rivalry to a poignant and tragic loss. He had come to see Nyla not just as an adversary but as a person whose strength and spirit had touched him in ways he never expected.
In the gritty underworld, Elara Whitmore is the youngest daughter of Victor Whitmore, the feared and influential head of a rival mob family. Despite the violence and treachery surrounding her, Elara is known for her sharp mind and unyielding spirit. She has managed to stay out of the direct line of fire by using her wits and charm, all while secretly aiding her family's operations.
Her adversary is Derek Blackwood, a powerful and ruthless mob boss with a reputation for dominance and control over his territory. Their encounters have been marked by a dangerous game of cat and mouse, punctuated by a mutual animosity that masks a complex and growing attraction.
Roleplay Scene: (A scene I would like to get to early in the story. :) )
The high-rise penthouse was a world apart from the chaos of the streets below. Inside, the opulence of sleek modern furnishings and ambient lighting contrasted sharply with the tension that crackled in the air. Elara and Derek stood looking out at the busy streets below, alive with the night life, the city lights casting long shadows across the room.
Derek pulled Elara close, his arms wrapping around her with a fierce protectiveness. The moment their lips met, the outside world seemed to fade away, replaced by the intense intimacy of their connection. His kiss was deep and consuming, his voice a low rumble against her lips. "I would give you the world, you simply have to ask. You want kids? Done. You want to stay here and never work again?" He kissed her again, the urgency palpable. "Done. You want to watch the world burn?"
Elara's lips curled into a smirk, her eyes sparkling with playful challenge. "Let me guess," she teased, "you'll set it on fire."
Derek's smirk matched hers, his gaze dark and filled with a mix of desire and determination. Without breaking eye contact, he shifted their positions, gently guiding her onto her back on the plush, modern sofa. He pinned one of her hands above her head, his other hand trailing lightly across her skin. His nose nuzzled along her neck, his breath warm and heavy against her. "No, darling," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "I'll hand you the match and stand at your back, watching you become Queen of the Ashes."
Elara's heart raced as she processed his words and felt the intensity of his gaze. The world outside might be fraught with danger, but here, in this moment of vulnerability and intimacy, she felt both exhilaration and trepidation.
"Derek," she breathed, her voice a mix of anticipation and hesitation, "are you truly prepared for what that means?"
He looked at her with a burning intensity, his hand still holding hers above her head. "For you, Elara, I would raze the world to the ground," he said softly, his eyes locked on hers. "I would watch it burn, if it meant we could build something new from the ashes."
Elara's breath caught in her throat as she considered his words. The violence and betrayal of the criminal underworld had shaped her life, but now, faced with the possibility of a new beginning with Derek, she felt the weight of their shared destiny pressing upon her. The depth of his devotion and the fierceness of his love intertwined with her own desires and fears.
As the evening wore on, the room was filled with whispered promises and the heat of their shared resolve. The outside world, with its corruption and danger, might burn, but within the walls of the penthouse, they found a moment of solace. Derek's dark promises and Elara's fierce determination came together, creating a bond that transcended their past enmity.
In the penthouse, amidst the modern luxury and the lingering tension, they made a pact not just for themselves but for a future they would forge together—one defined by their own desires and the strength they found in each other. The world outside might be ablaze with conflict, but within their embrace, they found the resolve to face whatever came next—united in their love and their shared vision for the future.
---------
So, that's the gist of what I'm envisioning—a romance with a character who's all sharp edges and cold charm, except when it comes to my character. I'm excited to explore roles like enemies-to-lovers, cheating roles, or even some irresistible (legal) age-gap roles. But if these don't quite hit the spot or if you're not feeling the icy, calculating vibe, I'm totally up for brainstorming something new together.
I would also like to note that the specific roles I listed are not set in stone. If you're into the whole step- roles, we can adjust any story to fit that. If you're not into the fantasy medieval setting, I'm open to trying out new themes. Overall, I'm open to adjusting and tweaking the story to fit both our desires.
I'm YourSweetestDream, but if you get to know me better, you might just learn my real name—maybe! For now, you can call me Dream or Sweetness.
I've been away from the roleplay scene for about two years, and I'm on the lookout for a partner to help me shake off the dust and dive into some fun ;) scenarios.
A bit about what I'm seeking: I'm hoping to find a partner who enjoys playing a character with a bit of a cold, mysterious edge, but who has a special soft spot for my character. Something about my sweet, innocent nature and kind demeanor catches your eye, and you feel drawn to protect me. I love creating detailed, immersive stories, and I'm open to brainstorming roles that suit both our interests.
I'm not into playing dominant roles, so if that's what you're looking for, we might not be the best fit. But if you're still with me, you're off to a great start!
I'm open to roleplaying in either first or third person. I've got some fun, fresh ideas to explore and am eager to see where our creativity takes us.
Let me know if there's anything you'd like to adjust to the following prompts. Stars next to prompts I'm especially excited for.
--
1) The Knight and His Jewel
My Character's Background:Hana Goldbrass, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, appears to live a life many would envy: a powerful and influential family, immense wealth, and a loyal friend. However, behind closed doors, her existence is far from ideal. Her mother is fiercely protective of the family's reputation, resorting to severe measures to maintain it, and imposes strict rules on her children. Her father is distant and harsh, using physical punishment to discipline her if she were to step out of line - or, on somedays, just because he feels like it. Mirabella has learned to conceal not only the physical marks but also the emotional scars of her upbringing. Her brother Matthew, who is following in their father's footsteps, shares his disdain and often treats her with contempt.
As she reaches marriageable age, Mirabella is expected to marry into a prestigious family. Instead, her father, finding it amusingly cruel, has arranged for her to wed a common knight. "Don't look so down, Mira. Be glad he agreed to marry you. It wasn't easy finding someone willing," her father remarked as her maid finished preparing her hair and veil.
Husband's Background and Current Situation: (Can be adjusted or altered altogether depending on your needs.)
Sir Dimitri, Mirabella's new husband, began his military career as a lowly squire, an entry-level position often tasked with menial duties and serving higher-ranking knights. His humble beginnings in this role did little to hint at the exceptional path he was destined to follow. Through relentless dedication, formidable martial skills, and an unwavering sense of discipline, Dimitri quickly distinguished himself on the battlefield.
His rise was rapid and impressive. From squire, he advanced to the rank of knight, where his strategic acumen and unyielding commitment to duty earned him command over small units. Over time, his reputation for tactical brilliance and combat prowess grew, leading to his eventual promotion to command entire armies. Dimitri became a war hero, celebrated for his decisive victories and feared by many for his strict enforcement of discipline and unrelenting approach to warfare.
Known for his stern and distant nature, Sir Dimitri commands immense respect and instills fear through his strict adherence to rules and consequences. His interactions with others are often marked by a lack of warmth, reflecting the intensity and seriousness with which he approaches both battle and daily life.
Roleplay Scene Idea: (A possible scene I would like to include at some point in the roleplay.)
Sir Dimitri had been back from the war for several months, and his presence had begun to settle into the household's routines. But tonight, the attack on their home has left Mirabella's heart racing and her hands trembling. As the chaos subsides and the immediate danger passes, Mirabella's adrenaline slowly wanes, leaving her visibly shaken. She barely registered as Dimitri came into the room. Her husband turned his attention to her. The sight of her pale face and trembling form immediately draws his concern. He strides over to her with purposeful steps, his face a mask of controlled intensity.
Mirabella wraps her arms around herself, trying to steady her nerves. When Dimitri approaches, she jumps slightly, her anxiety still palpable. He speaks in a calm yet authoritative tone, "Are you alright?" His voice is firm but laced with genuine concern as he gently places a hand on her shoulder to turn her to face him. Taking a deep breath, Mirabella looks up at him, her voice quivering slightly as she responds, "Y-yes, I'm fine." Despite her words, she flinches when his hands move from her shoulders to carefully inspect her. "Let me check you for injuries," he says, his tone giving no room for an argument.
He methodically examines her, his touch both deliberate and reassuring. His hands move gently but with a practiced efficiency as he checks for any signs of harm. "We need to ensure you're unharmed," he says, his voice low and focused. 'And I will have a head for every mark left on you.' Recognizing that he should not say that particular thought aloud and further her anxiety. As he continues his inspection, he comments on each small mark or bruise he finds. "That's one…" he says quietly, his gaze scanning her for any further injuries.
Mirabella, her heart still racing from the attack and the adrenaline, tries to remain calm under his scrutiny. Dimitri's thorough examination, though tense, is done with a level of care that contrasts with his usual stern demeanor. As he finishes, he places a reassuring hand on her arm, his expression softening slightly.
"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks again, his concern evident. Mirabella nods, grateful for his attention and the underlying warmth hidden beneath his cold exterior. Despite the recent turmoil, this moment reveals a glimpse of the depth of his care for her.
2) Beauty and the Beast**
My Character's Background:All Blair Kane wanted in life was to finish college and secure her dream job as a psychiatrist. Known for her exceptional academic performance, she far excels in her studies than her classmates, consistently ranking at the top of her class. Her dedication extends beyond the classroom; she volunteers whenever she can, driven by a genuine desire to help others. She also enjoys having a social life, often attending parties and social gatherings when her schedule allows. These outings are a rare opportunity for her to unwind and enjoy herself.
Her resilience and independence are rooted in her challenging upbringing. Blair's mother left the family when she was a child, leaving her with a workaholic father who was often absent from her daily life. Growing up largely on her own, Blair learned to be fiercely self-reliant, managing her own responsibilities and navigating life's challenges without much guidance. Despite her difficult past, Blair has developed into a strong, independent individual with a clear vision for her future. Her experiences have shaped her into someone who is not only highly driven and accomplished but also capable of handling adversity with determination and grace.
Starter:
All Blair Kane wanted in life was to finish college and secure her dream job as a psychiatrist. However, her plans took an unexpected turn one night at the Afterhours bar. She had gone out with a couple of friends to unwind before a big test in their Modern Psychology class. As they drank and became increasingly intoxicated, Blair struggled to keep track of the two giggling girls.
"Stay here," she instructed them before heading to the bar to get two glasses of water. As she tried to catch the bartender's attention, she found herself pinned to the bar as hot air brushed her cheek. From the outside, it would seem like there was just no room at the bar, but when his hand wandered to her rear, she knew that wasn't the case. Turning sharply, she glared up at the man. "Hands off," she growled, slapping his hand away before giving up on her mission.
Weaving through the crowded bar, she glanced back to see the man following her, his eyes glinting with an unsettling malice. Frustrated, she sighed in defeat when she couldn't spot her friends at their table. Determined not to give the man more ground, she continued forward. "Come back," he yelled over the music, grabbing her upper arm. "Stop playing hard to get, you dumb bitch.." His hand tightened around her as he tried to pull her closer, but she pushed him away. "Leave me alone," she shouted, pushing through the crowd again.
With no one paying her much attention, Blair spotted a table where the crowd seemed to reflect off an invisible barrier. She pushed her way through and stumbled into the open space, quickly taking a seat. "Please pretend you know me," she whispered to one of the men at the table, grabbing his hand. "The bartender barely acknowledged me," she called out loud enough for the drunk to overhear, glancing nervously at the man still advancing. The drunk man, undeterred by Blair's plea, came forward to grab her arm again. "We were just starting to have fun, babydoll," he stumbles over his words. The man at the table, observing the situation with growing disapproval, scowled up at the drunk and raised an eyebrow. "I would let go of her," he said, his voice smooth and deep. The drunk man glared down at him, challenging, "Or what?" The unknown man's eyes, however, held a dangerous glint. "I suggest you leave before you find out," he said, his voice growing increasingly menacing. The drunk's bravado faltered as he took in the serious look on the man's face, and he hesitated before retreating, muttering under his breath.
3) Immortal Lovers*
My Character's Background:Clarissa Wentworth is a figure marked by centuries of existence and experience. Her story began with a tragic awakening in the forest, where she first encountered the brutal reality of her new existence. Waking to a sore neck and an overwhelming thirst, she found herself disoriented and confused, with her voice hoarse and her throat aching. As she stumbled upon the forest floor, the sound of distant voices piqued her attention. Driven by an instinctual hunger, she chased after the figures and, driven by a primal need, ended up draining them of their blood. The guilt and horror of her actions hit her hard, marking the beginning of a long journey through the shadows.
Centuries have passed since that fateful day, during which Clarissa has navigated the complex world of immortality. She has adapted to a life of secrecy and survival, honing her abilities and managing her predatory instincts with a mix of skill and discipline. Despite her long life, she remains haunted by her early actions, which have shaped her understanding of her existence.
Now, in the present day, Clarissa resides in a modern setting that contrasts sharply with her ancient origins. Her home reflects a sophisticated taste, with a comfortable living room where she often finds solace. Despite the passage of time, she maintains a connection with Alistair, her companion in the nocturnal world. Their bond is rooted in mutual respect and a shared commitment to managing the complexities of their existence.
Starter:
Clarissa Wentworth woke with gasp, her head pounding before she registered a thirst she had never experienced before. Squinting against the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy, she groaned and pushed herself off the ground, her legs unsteady. "Where am I?" She muttered, her voice was rough, each word bringing a painful scratch to her throat. As she tried to orient herself, she caught the sound of voices in the distance. Instinctively, she froze and focused on the faint figures she could see a mile away - later realizing she could see the people clearly despite the distance. Taking a hesitant step toward them, the sound of their movement grew fainter, pushing her into action. Driven by a force she hadn't anticipated, she sprinted through the trees. The forest blurred around her until she suddenly halted. Without fully grasping what she was doing, she lunged at one of the figures, her fangs sinking into his throat. A low moan escaped her as the rich, metallic taste of blood touched her tongue. Minutes later, as she drained the couple of their life force, the enormity of her actions hit her with crushing force. Overwhelmed by guilt and grief, she fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the terror-filled eyes of her victims. The weight of her actions pressed heavily on her chest, and a low sob escaped her as she mourned the loss she had inflicted.
Centuries later, Clarissa was curled up on her couch, sipping from a glass of wine. Her living room was a blend of comfort and elegance, reflecting her long life and refined tastes. As she flipped through channels on the TV, she stopped on a news broadcast. The anchor's voice caught her attention: "...this morning, there was another body found in the forest. Officials are warning people not to hike or camp until the animal causing these attacks is found..."
With a sigh, Clarissa reached for her phone and dialed Dimitri's number. The call rang a few times before he answered. "Don't tell me you were messy again," she teased, rolling her eyes as she remembered his occasional tendency to leave behind traces of his kills. Her smile faded as Dimitri's voice came through, serious and concerned. "No. I just heard as well. Judging from your reaction, it wasn't you?" Frowning, Clarissa listened to the news report, piecing together the details. "It sounds like a newbie," she said, a smirk forming on her lips as she realized the implications. "Newbies are always a problem. Are you up for a hunt?"
4) With Love
My Character's Background:Rosalie Hunt has always been a lone wolf. Abandoned by her mother at six months old and neglected by a father who sought refuge in alcohol, Rosalie learned to rely solely on herself from a young age. Her solitary upbringing honed her resilience and self-sufficiency, qualities that led her to be recruited by a company right out of high school. The company, founded by Matthew, offered to cover her college expenses in exchange for working on a contract basis. Their initial meeting in a small coffee shop sparked an instant connection and deep chemistry, marking the beginning of a significant relationship both professionally and personally. Over the years, Rosalie has advanced through the ranks within the company, becoming one of their top members. Her exceptional skills and high pick rate have distinguished her from her peers, making her a valuable asset.
Possible Starter:
Rosalie Hunt trudged through the pouring rain, her clothes drenched in rain and blood, both her own and her marks, and her distress was palpable. She approached Matthew's house, each step weighed down by anxiety and exhaustion. As she pushed open the door, her breath came in ragged gasps, and her usual confident demeanor was replaced by visible turmoil.
Entering the house, she made her way to the living room, where she found Matthew and his partner engaged in an important conversation. The moment Matthew's eyes met Rosalie's, his expression shifted from focused professionalism to concern. He immediately stood up, leaving his partner behind, and crossed the room to meet her. "I'm sorry, I know you're busy but—" Rosalie began, her voice trembling and her breathing erratic. Before she could finish, Matthew interrupted her with a sharp, "Are you okay?" His concern was evident as he began to examine her for any signs of distress or injury.
Matthew's partner, who had been watching from behind him, walked up and asked, "What is she doing here?" Her voice was laced with disdain, but her question was abruptly cut off. Matthew, with a tone Rosalie had never heard before—cold and commanding—said, "Leave." The woman's smirk faltered as she glanced down at Rosalie before replying, "Yes. Do leave us alone."
But Matthew's gaze never left Rosalie. He directed his stern voice at the woman, "No. Not her. Never her. You leave, now." His voice grew more serious, reflecting his growing realization of the gravity of Rosalie's state. As he took in the sight of Rosalie, not her usual self, his concern deepened.
The woman, now taken aback by Matthew's fierce reaction, hesitated before exiting with a haughty glance back. Matthew's full attention was on Rosalie, his worry evident as he sought to understand the cause of her distress.
5) The Princess and the Tyrant*
Some Background:
Nyla, the princess of a besieged kingdom, is renowned for her bravery and skill in combat. Despite her royal status, she chooses to fight alongside her people to protect her homeland from invaders. Her formidable enemy is Kael, a feared tyrant with a dark reputation. Their encounters have been fierce and personal, marked by intense battles and a mutual animosity.
Roleplay Scene: (Something I would like to add, if possible. If not, I would like the story to give these vibes.)
The battlefield was a tumultuous scene of clashing armies and raging fires. Amid the chaos, Princess Nyla fought valiantly, her sword a symbol of her unyielding spirit. Despite her courage, the battle was turning against her forces. An enemy's blade found its mark, and Nyla, exhausted and still injured from the poison in her system, fell to the ground, her strength waning. Kael, who had been strategizing from the rear, saw Nyla's fall through the haze of smoke and blood. His usual cold demeanor cracked as he watched her crumple. Pushing through the ranks of his own soldiers, he cut a path toward her, his focus unyielding. He never expected her to falter, to fall..
When he reached her, the battlefield seemed to blur into insignificance. Kael gently scooped Nyla into his arms, her royal armor bloodied and her eyes fluttering weakly. The sight of the once-powerful princess in such a vulnerable state pierced through Kael's hardened heart. "No..no... Nyla, stay with me," Kael pleaded, his voice a rough whisper, barely audible over the distant sounds of conflict. His hands, usually so controlled and precise, were now trembling as he held her. The sight of her fading strength and the light leaving her eyes struck him with a profound sense of dread.
Nyla, her regal bearing now fading due to her suffering, looked up at Kael with a mix of pain and something akin to forgiveness. Her final breath was a whisper of confusion and acceptance, "Why... did it come to this?" As her eyes closed and her breath ceased, Kael's heart shattered. A gut-wrenching scream tore from his throat, a primal, heart-rending cry filled with anguish and regret. The sound was so devastating that it seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the world around him. From his scream, a wave of dark energy erupted, swirling violently and consuming everything in its path. The once chaotic battlefield was now enveloped in a darkness that obliterated the surrounding chaos. The ground trembled, and the air crackled with malevolent force as Kael's sorrow and fury manifested into a destructive tempest.
The destruction was swift and absolute. The remaining soldiers scattered in terror, the land scarred by the aftermath of Kael's unleashed grief. As the darkness dissipated, it left behind a devastated landscape and a solitary figure kneeling beside the lifeless body of the princess.
Kael, now alone amidst the ruin, cradled Nyla's body, his armor dented and bloodied. His usually implacable expression was replaced by one of profound sorrow. The princess he had fought against, whom he had come to both despise and respect, was now the focal point of his deepest regrets and unspoken affections. In the silence that followed, Kael's emotions were laid bare. The battlefield, once a place of enmity, had become the backdrop for a love that had transformed from fierce rivalry to a poignant and tragic loss. He had come to see Nyla not just as an adversary but as a person whose strength and spirit had touched him in ways he never expected.
6. Queen of Ashes***
Some Background:In the gritty underworld, Elara Whitmore is the youngest daughter of Victor Whitmore, the feared and influential head of a rival mob family. Despite the violence and treachery surrounding her, Elara is known for her sharp mind and unyielding spirit. She has managed to stay out of the direct line of fire by using her wits and charm, all while secretly aiding her family's operations.
Her adversary is Derek Blackwood, a powerful and ruthless mob boss with a reputation for dominance and control over his territory. Their encounters have been marked by a dangerous game of cat and mouse, punctuated by a mutual animosity that masks a complex and growing attraction.
Roleplay Scene: (A scene I would like to get to early in the story. :) )
The high-rise penthouse was a world apart from the chaos of the streets below. Inside, the opulence of sleek modern furnishings and ambient lighting contrasted sharply with the tension that crackled in the air. Elara and Derek stood looking out at the busy streets below, alive with the night life, the city lights casting long shadows across the room.
Derek pulled Elara close, his arms wrapping around her with a fierce protectiveness. The moment their lips met, the outside world seemed to fade away, replaced by the intense intimacy of their connection. His kiss was deep and consuming, his voice a low rumble against her lips. "I would give you the world, you simply have to ask. You want kids? Done. You want to stay here and never work again?" He kissed her again, the urgency palpable. "Done. You want to watch the world burn?"
Elara's lips curled into a smirk, her eyes sparkling with playful challenge. "Let me guess," she teased, "you'll set it on fire."
Derek's smirk matched hers, his gaze dark and filled with a mix of desire and determination. Without breaking eye contact, he shifted their positions, gently guiding her onto her back on the plush, modern sofa. He pinned one of her hands above her head, his other hand trailing lightly across her skin. His nose nuzzled along her neck, his breath warm and heavy against her. "No, darling," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "I'll hand you the match and stand at your back, watching you become Queen of the Ashes."
Elara's heart raced as she processed his words and felt the intensity of his gaze. The world outside might be fraught with danger, but here, in this moment of vulnerability and intimacy, she felt both exhilaration and trepidation.
"Derek," she breathed, her voice a mix of anticipation and hesitation, "are you truly prepared for what that means?"
He looked at her with a burning intensity, his hand still holding hers above her head. "For you, Elara, I would raze the world to the ground," he said softly, his eyes locked on hers. "I would watch it burn, if it meant we could build something new from the ashes."
Elara's breath caught in her throat as she considered his words. The violence and betrayal of the criminal underworld had shaped her life, but now, faced with the possibility of a new beginning with Derek, she felt the weight of their shared destiny pressing upon her. The depth of his devotion and the fierceness of his love intertwined with her own desires and fears.
As the evening wore on, the room was filled with whispered promises and the heat of their shared resolve. The outside world, with its corruption and danger, might burn, but within the walls of the penthouse, they found a moment of solace. Derek's dark promises and Elara's fierce determination came together, creating a bond that transcended their past enmity.
In the penthouse, amidst the modern luxury and the lingering tension, they made a pact not just for themselves but for a future they would forge together—one defined by their own desires and the strength they found in each other. The world outside might be ablaze with conflict, but within their embrace, they found the resolve to face whatever came next—united in their love and their shared vision for the future.
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So, that's the gist of what I'm envisioning—a romance with a character who's all sharp edges and cold charm, except when it comes to my character. I'm excited to explore roles like enemies-to-lovers, cheating roles, or even some irresistible (legal) age-gap roles. But if these don't quite hit the spot or if you're not feeling the icy, calculating vibe, I'm totally up for brainstorming something new together.
I would also like to note that the specific roles I listed are not set in stone. If you're into the whole step- roles, we can adjust any story to fit that. If you're not into the fantasy medieval setting, I'm open to trying out new themes. Overall, I'm open to adjusting and tweaking the story to fit both our desires.