Nonbinary_Witch
Serf
- Local time
- Today 1:19 AM
- Messages
- 3
- Age
- 21
- Pronouns
- they/them
Hi, I'm Cori! I've been here a long time and roleplayed even longer, but I took a long break after becoming chronically ill. I'm more than ready to get back to writing though! I love drama, violence, and darker themes!
At the moment my writing speed is about 1-3 replies per day, some days dropping out due to flares or brain fog. I'm learning to read myself better so I can give heads ups. My preferred length is around 2-4 paragraphs, though I've been known to write more.
I love violence, as said above! There's just about nothing that can be done to make me uncomfortable. Just stay away from paraphilias and we're good!
No fandoms. I'm good with being suggested other plots but only original character ones. Anything with monsters or killers will probably be loved by me!
I'm craving sub roles atm. My kinks are noncon, drugging, blackmail/coercion/threats, bondage, crossdressing (especially forced), sensory play, breath play, marking (branding, scarring, biting, etc), piercing, gangbang or forced to fuck someone/something while the other watches or aids, sex toys, and orgasm denial. Basically I just love power imbalance. Boundaries are play with bodily waste, pet play, paraphilias, and inflation.
️ for preferred plots, 
for preferred roles
At the moment my writing speed is about 1-3 replies per day, some days dropping out due to flares or brain fog. I'm learning to read myself better so I can give heads ups. My preferred length is around 2-4 paragraphs, though I've been known to write more.
I love violence, as said above! There's just about nothing that can be done to make me uncomfortable. Just stay away from paraphilias and we're good!
No fandoms. I'm good with being suggested other plots but only original character ones. Anything with monsters or killers will probably be loved by me!
I'm craving sub roles atm. My kinks are noncon, drugging, blackmail/coercion/threats, bondage, crossdressing (especially forced), sensory play, breath play, marking (branding, scarring, biting, etc), piercing, gangbang or forced to fuck someone/something while the other watches or aids, sex toys, and orgasm denial. Basically I just love power imbalance. Boundaries are play with bodily waste, pet play, paraphilias, and inflation.
️ for preferred plots, for preferred roles(Stalker x Kidnapped)
Muse A woke up one day with no memories of who he was or where he was. All he knew for certain was that he was injured badly and barely able to move because of it. The first and only person he met was Muse B, who told him that he was his boyfriend and had gotten hurt in an accident. Muse B surprised that Muse A had lost his memory, but some part of him seemed.. glad. Muse A knew that was crazy though, right? B was sweet, thoughtful, and so attentive, but something about the whole thing seemed.. off. A couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, so he hid it from B when his legs healed enough to walk and snuck out of his room one night. Everything seemed normal, aside from the fact that he had been in the basement.. but soon enough A came to a room filled floor to wall with pictures of himself.
)Muse A woke up one day with no memories of who he was or where he was. All he knew for certain was that he was injured badly and barely able to move because of it. The first and only person he met was Muse B, who told him that he was his boyfriend and had gotten hurt in an accident. Muse B surprised that Muse A had lost his memory, but some part of him seemed.. glad. Muse A knew that was crazy though, right? B was sweet, thoughtful, and so attentive, but something about the whole thing seemed.. off. A couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, so he hid it from B when his legs healed enough to walk and snuck out of his room one night. Everything seemed normal, aside from the fact that he had been in the basement.. but soon enough A came to a room filled floor to wall with pictures of himself.
(Shapeshifter x Loner)
Muse A was just a simple man living in the woods. He got company now and then, one person of which he had a crush on. He'd never tell anyone but himself, yet unbeknownst to him something other than animals heard his lovesick ramblings when spoke to himself on his hikes. It could be called a number of things: a skinwalker, a mimic, a trickster; whatever it might really be, it fell in love with A. At first it observed him like any animal, then it took advantage of his duck feedings to get close and sit by him, but as time went on it couldn't stay away any longer. To get close to the man it couldn't have, it became the man A couldn't have, showing up at his door one night to clumsily pretend to be A's crush.
•Would love to do this with the shapeshifter killing Muse A's crush to take over his life
Muse A was just a simple man living in the woods. He got company now and then, one person of which he had a crush on. He'd never tell anyone but himself, yet unbeknownst to him something other than animals heard his lovesick ramblings when spoke to himself on his hikes. It could be called a number of things: a skinwalker, a mimic, a trickster; whatever it might really be, it fell in love with A. At first it observed him like any animal, then it took advantage of his duck feedings to get close and sit by him, but as time went on it couldn't stay away any longer. To get close to the man it couldn't have, it became the man A couldn't have, showing up at his door one night to clumsily pretend to be A's crush.
•Would love to do this with the shapeshifter killing Muse A's crush to take over his life
(Crossdressing Prince x Prince)
As two countries became on the verge of war, one side offered their second prince as a marital peace treaty. They were surprised when the second side agreed. However, they refused to let the bride show their face until after the wedding, claiming it as tradition. It wasn't until after the marriage had been officiated that the first side realized the bride was actually a man, sent only as a way to mock them.
x Prince)As two countries became on the verge of war, one side offered their second prince as a marital peace treaty. They were surprised when the second side agreed. However, they refused to let the bride show their face until after the wedding, claiming it as tradition. It wasn't until after the marriage had been officiated that the first side realized the bride was actually a man, sent only as a way to mock them.
(Cop x Rapist)
(
explicit)
(Plot is an edited excerpt from a roleplay with Gem in the Sea)
Julian had always been ambitious. Despite not being as muscular or tall as the other cadets, he clawed his way to damn near the top of his class, and soon enough he'd done it. He'd become a police officer, his dream since childhood. He was gonna make a difference!
..and then he got jumped by a crook when he was sent to take care of a broken-into house. The asshole hit him over the head then slashed his leg in an attempt to keep him from chasing them. Thankfully another officer quickly stopped them, but his leg had never quite worked the same since.
After just a month out on the field he became relegated to desk work and patrols. Nothing dangerous. Everything boring.
Well.. at least he was still helping people, and it was something only he seemed to be able to do too: talking to a slew of rape victims, no discernible pattern looks wise, of course all victims alone and often intoxicated, knocked out or blindfolded, usually strangled to the point of lightheadedness, most of them likely the same culprit. He felt bad for them hearing of the encounters, the terrifying ways the man incapacitated and had his way with them.. but at the same time guilt always filled him as his heart quickened. He wanted to know more.
Did the man have some kind of goal with these victims? How long did these rapes go on? How long had he been doing such things? Those were the first questions, the reasonable ones, but then he wondered: what did it feel like? Sometimes there was blood, though the lube from the condom he used usually helped to prevent that. How much force did it take to do that? Did the blood help any or was it more agonizing? Did he try to get his victims off? Was his voice sexy? Did he moan any?
What was wrong with him? Had that knock to his head fucked him over too? It was just something about the way they were trapped.. bound.. it made him.. intrigued? Excited? Hot..
They didn't go into much detail though. The interviews were short, usually filled with more sobbing than talking, and no one ever blamed him for needing a break afterwards. No one ever found out that those breaks were filled with thoughts of how exactly those rapes happened, vivid play-throughs in his head from the victims' perspectives, and.. boners. Sometimes he jerked off, most of the time he just stared at it waiting for it to go away, hating himself.
One night he was out on patrol, just thinking about it all. He was tired of seeing new victims.. tired of hating himself for having wet dreams filled with the same descriptions that had so deeply traumatized them. He wanted to lock that bastard up already.
Then he heard it: a soft whine, faint slapping, and a rough voice whispering something. With a deep breath, he laid a hand over a holstered stun gun, ready to use it, and peered down the alley, flashlight in his other hand. He tried to move slowly for now, tried not to let his limp show for fear of it making him seem weaker, as he spoke up. "The hell are you two do-" and then he saw a bag on the bottom's head. This wasn't just some hookup from two shitheads thinking they could get away with fucking in public.. this was rape. This was that rapist.
x Rapist)(
explicit)(Plot is an edited excerpt from a roleplay with Gem in the Sea)
Julian had always been ambitious. Despite not being as muscular or tall as the other cadets, he clawed his way to damn near the top of his class, and soon enough he'd done it. He'd become a police officer, his dream since childhood. He was gonna make a difference!
..and then he got jumped by a crook when he was sent to take care of a broken-into house. The asshole hit him over the head then slashed his leg in an attempt to keep him from chasing them. Thankfully another officer quickly stopped them, but his leg had never quite worked the same since.
After just a month out on the field he became relegated to desk work and patrols. Nothing dangerous. Everything boring.
Well.. at least he was still helping people, and it was something only he seemed to be able to do too: talking to a slew of rape victims, no discernible pattern looks wise, of course all victims alone and often intoxicated, knocked out or blindfolded, usually strangled to the point of lightheadedness, most of them likely the same culprit. He felt bad for them hearing of the encounters, the terrifying ways the man incapacitated and had his way with them.. but at the same time guilt always filled him as his heart quickened. He wanted to know more.
Did the man have some kind of goal with these victims? How long did these rapes go on? How long had he been doing such things? Those were the first questions, the reasonable ones, but then he wondered: what did it feel like? Sometimes there was blood, though the lube from the condom he used usually helped to prevent that. How much force did it take to do that? Did the blood help any or was it more agonizing? Did he try to get his victims off? Was his voice sexy? Did he moan any?
What was wrong with him? Had that knock to his head fucked him over too? It was just something about the way they were trapped.. bound.. it made him.. intrigued? Excited? Hot..
They didn't go into much detail though. The interviews were short, usually filled with more sobbing than talking, and no one ever blamed him for needing a break afterwards. No one ever found out that those breaks were filled with thoughts of how exactly those rapes happened, vivid play-throughs in his head from the victims' perspectives, and.. boners. Sometimes he jerked off, most of the time he just stared at it waiting for it to go away, hating himself.
One night he was out on patrol, just thinking about it all. He was tired of seeing new victims.. tired of hating himself for having wet dreams filled with the same descriptions that had so deeply traumatized them. He wanted to lock that bastard up already.
Then he heard it: a soft whine, faint slapping, and a rough voice whispering something. With a deep breath, he laid a hand over a holstered stun gun, ready to use it, and peered down the alley, flashlight in his other hand. He tried to move slowly for now, tried not to let his limp show for fear of it making him seem weaker, as he spoke up. "The hell are you two do-" and then he saw a bag on the bottom's head. This wasn't just some hookup from two shitheads thinking they could get away with fucking in public.. this was rape. This was that rapist.
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