Hatchet's Request Thread (Closed)

Started by Hatchet, September 30, 2017, 07:04:01 PM

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Of Honor & Deception

I have a medieval/steampunk fantasy thread! There are more characters within my world building thread which can be chosen however those characters are only allowed within the confines of that specific world, i.e. Knavory. So if you're looking for a medieval fantasy role-play I highly suggest checking that out.


Hello! Welcome to my main request thread, if you are currently looking for my medieval, steampunk fantasy thread, please click the link above! This thread mainly deals with characters I've created to be used in all kinds of different stories. I know this isn't usually how request threads are done, but I've always done the character approach instead of individual role play scenarios, but I'm open to either.

A little bit about myself, I've been roleplaying since I was in high school and have developed a taste for it. Flashforward to the present, and I have developed a taste for adult role playing games with love, hate, gore, heartbreak, and le naughty ;). My posting schedule in all honesty is "whenever I damn well please" though I can range from posts every day, to a couple per week, to once every several months or so due to my own health, time, and my overall muse.

As for me on E, I've made some wonderful friends here, some of which I say I'm incredibly close with. I like having friendships, I enjoy writing with friends, I just enjoy writing in general. I do have a Discord chat, but I only give that to partners who I've developed a good friendly, healthy bond with where plotting makes it more accessible as well as just talking about day to day stuff.

Anywho, I myself an a Centurion, for those of you that don't quite know what that means, it translates to I am a Legate who donated to E at one point or another. I do not wish to have my gender known, there is no reason why you should ask me for it, and there is definitely no reason why that should be a qualifying reason for me to roleplay with you if you do so choose to ask me in a PM or otherwise. I will not be a Pokemon Professor to you as long as you are not a Pokemon Professor to me. I always love plotting after we've started the story as new scenes can always come up. If either one of us gets stuck, we can always talk it out and rewrite a scene or retype a post, it's all good. Please also understand that my characters have set personalities at the start of the stories because they are meant to grow and shift during the initial roleplay down the line. If a character is listed as homosexual and that's it without anything else special added to it, please accept that and do not ask me to change anything about them, sexuality, name, hair color, shoe size, length of their incisors, nothing. They are set the way I like them.

Though I don't care for listening requirements for partners, I do believe it is a requirement to read my O/O thread as that is the best way to get to know me. If you ever have a question whether or not you or your character should do something, feel free to constantly check back, that's usually what I do with all my partners, no matter how long we've been roleplaying together. If you still have questions, just pop me a PM and I can answer you outright. If you would like to chat with me in a more socialized fashion, pop by my A/A thread with some idle chatter and shenanigans. I also know I said a little bit beforehand I don't like requirements but I also have a small list if just housekeeping things below this blurb.

Either way, it's wonderful to meet you, and if we don't end up becoming roleplay partners, I do appreciate you taking the time to read my thread. Happy writing!

Before We Begin

- Obey Elliquiy site rules.

- Please refrain from posting in this thread.

- The youngest main character I will roleplay is 18.

- I am not yet interested in roleplaying in any sort of fandom universe or fandom-canon character.

- Forum only roleplays will be accepted.

- Please refrain from posting any NSFW pictures in our roleplay.

- Please refrain from any self insert roleplay.


Below are my characters, thank you again for taking your time and clicking on this. I surely cannot wait for your message, feel free to message me with any questions you have if you aren't sure on your decision. Happy writing!

| Rainbow Writer ~ Lover of Eros ~ New Writer Friendly |


Ronan Jay Lynch

Species; Human
Sex; Male
Sexual Orientation; "...Yes." (Tends to lean towards men.)
Age; 24
Birth Country; United States
Language(s); English, Spanish
Current Location; Major U.S. City (New York, Detroit, San Francisco, etc.)
Occupation; Crime
Relationship Status; Single
Children; None
Song Inspirations; "Blurryface, Vessel, Twenty One Pilots, Trench" - Twenty One Pilots (Albums), "Cancer" - Twenty One Pilots (Cover), "Level of Concern" - Twenty One Pilots, "Pieces" - Red, "Pumped Up Kicks" - Foster The People, "Mr. Fear" - SIAMES, "If I Killed Someone For You" Alec Benjamin, "Sick Boy" - The Chainsmokers, "The Other Side of Paradise, Pork Soda" - Glass Animals, "Told Ya, Ghost, Hellbent" - Mystery Skulls, "Ghost, Haunting, Gasoline" - Halsey, "Fight Back" - NEFFEX, "Don't Care" - Adam Jensen, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" - Green Day

The afternoon had a chill, everyone who had half a brain bundled in winter wear for the coming snowy season. It was at this time, the time of year where people by definition of "The Christmas Season," should be caring about everyone else but themselves. Homeless men and women dotted the sidewalks and subways while others walked on, dropping anything between a cent or two to candy wrappers next to them. Businessmen harped on their cellphones, children tugged at their parent's sleeve or pant leg pointing at whatever new toy or puppy sat in the windowsill, young college students walked aimlessly towards their destination with their faces buried in their textbooks for upcoming finals...Everyone was blissfully unaware.

No one noticed


"It's that time of year again, Salvation Army's a guiltin' away"

"Yes, yes I'll- no...Yes I'll have the papers on your desk by morning."


The snake in the tall grass.

"Mommy look, the new Pokemon game will be on sale!"

"Spare change please? Just to get on the subway..."

"Move, jackass!"

The hawk circling overhead.

"I'm late for class!"

"Yeah I'll be home in time for dinner."

"Use the crosswalk people!"

A wolf within the evergreens.

In a sea of colorful people wearing stark white, light blue, olive green, yoga pants, college sweatshirts, business suits, cute jackets with faux fur collars...Icy eyes darted every which way before stepping out from the alley, one combat boot after the next, hands shoved in the pockets of a pitch black leather bomber jacket, grey hood pulled up over a shaved head.

Slipping past the crowds unnoticed by the masses as if they wore blinders over their eyes. Past kiosks and food stands lining the sidewalks and streets.

"That'll be $3.45."

"Alr- hey, where's my wallet?!"

Twirling the brown leather between his fingers as he pocketed the money in his back pocket and continued on his search, he pulled out a knife with his left hand and held the blade between his teeth, the public too self absorbed to see the leopard prowl. Spotting a client, a client who shorted him no less, he flashed a slow, sickening grin as he moved up behind his target swiftly.

No matter in broad daylight, no one would notice, no one would miss him, nor his assassin if caught by the unknowing police not paying attention to a single thing down the block. Putting a hand on the other's shoulder, it didn't take but a swift tug into a nearby alley, hand over the other's mouth. Nothing but a rustle and a grunt, before the blood hit the concrete.

In short, Ronan grew up in hell. Longer version, Ronan doesn't know his father, his mother on the other hand bounced around from man to man, each more disgusting and repulsive than the last. Due to his mother's drinking and drug related addictions, she would often leave her son to his own devices to go gambling for the extra cash to fuel her habits. While she was hooked by a lover, she usually requested they watched the young Ronan which then translated to several different types of assault on the young boy.

Being drugged, beaten, raped, all repeatedly throughout his childhood, it wasn't until his mother's last boyfriend while Ronan was at the age of twelve, to set him over the edge. Selling him nightly to lustful men and women alike, Ronan snapped under the abuse, stealing his mother's current boyfriend's gun and shooting him and his mother, twenty rounds each in the head and neck. After their murder, Ronan was found and put into the foster system, bouncing around from foster home to foster home, ending up on the streets in between families. He never had any interest in getting to know his adult guardians, and some of his adult guardians were also neglectful and abusive even under strict systems in place.

Young Ronan was a thief for the majority of his childhood before he was picked up by a notable gang where he began training in smuggling, sales, and most of all, fighting. Currently, he still resides in that particular gang as one of its higher officials. His loyalty to his superiors knows no bounds, earning him the nickname 'Dog' from rival gang members and police forces. He usually acts as a leg breaker, but also has a hand in large-scale operations with handling drugs, firearms, and other illegal items on the black market.

Ronan is a tough cookie to crack. In some ways, he's easier to pair than other characters. Sex can happen in the first few pages of a story due to his enjoyment of one night stands, but he has issues becoming emotionally invested in other people. There are a few ways people can go about when pairing him, either helping him out and making him a better person, or making him even more toxic than he already is by pairing him with another trash person. Honestly he's just fun to write with due to his inner turmoil and inability to react in a constructive way. He doesn't always react the way I want him to, he doesn't always react the way you or your character would want him to as well. Due to his loose cannon persona, don't expect Ronan to be the typical bad boy boyfriend who secretly is a cinnamon roll. In some ways he is, but in short, he's a wild card.

Ronan prefers men over women, and he considers himself a switch. In stories he can play the dominant role or the submissive role, or anything in between depending on the type of character he is paired with. It is also interesting outside of the bedroom as Ronan socially will do and take orders given by his partner. Remember his nickname is "Dog," and he honestly quite likes it.

| Rainbow Writer ~ Lover of Eros ~ New Writer Friendly |


Donder Fitzgerald Locke

Species; Human, Werewolf (Born)
Sex; Male
Sexual Orientation; Bisexual
Age; 42
Birth Country; Germany
Language(s); German, Welsh, French, English
Current Location; Major Ivy League University (Or an equivalently prestigious school.)
Occupation; Advanced Mathematics Professor and Advisor, Mathematics Department Head, Alpha of the Lockehardt Pack
Relationship Status; Divorced
Children; Pierce Locke
Song Inspirations; "The Wolf" - SIAMES, "Animals" - Maroon 5, "Dance with the Devil, Forget It" - Breaking Benjamin, "Come With Me Now" - KONGOS, "When I'm Gone" - 3 Doors Down, "Heaven Knows" - The Pretty Reckless, "Wolves" Sam Tinnesz

Have you ever wondered...

Snarls, barks, and howls rang through the night sky. Black and blue speckled with white stars and a crescent moon ruling over the land, lighting the way for the creatures of the night. Massive paws dug into the grass and mud, pushing and pulling forth the massive bodies controlling them, striding across the hills and valleys in one large group. The path they ran was marked by a dirt path from miles upon miles being tracked by it daily.

Pelts and fur shined under the moonlight, some solid, some spotted, patched, saddled, shadows belonging to the beasts varying in sizes, small, slim, large, muscular, lith, powerful, every member had a job, a role to play within the pack.

Leading the front, a beast as black as the night itself, powerful in stride and stature with eyes glowing red, irises shining golden as it snarled it's way uphill. It barked and snarled for the others to keep up, to push themselves, but never was it violent to the other members. At the rear, scent similar to the leader's, a wolf with a pelt as white as snow, as white as the moon, and eyes as cold and bright as ice.

They ran to protect, they ran to conserve, traps of teeth, traps of cords, all crafted in silver to slay one type of creature.

Each trap was taken down carefully by each member of the pack as the ebony wolf oversaw and assisted with any members struggling, these wolves were not the kind from horror stories, though to hunters it all meant the same. These wolves protected the city, protected humans who had no idea of the existence of the supernaturals around them, and the horrors that wanted nothing else but to destroy them.

Continuing their rounds to their clearing, privately owned property with a wood cabin off to the corner, the lights on and smoke puffing from the chimney. The wolves rampaged through the clearing, howling and panting in triumph from clearing the traps and disarming the hunter's attempt to weed them out of the city.

Padding to the hilltop, where a large rock jutted out from the side, the wolf laid down with a huff looking over what he was destined for, destined to lead. His grouse demeanor and scarred face were just a facade for the man beneath the beast. To those he was sworn to protect, human or supernatural, they could look past his drinking, his snarls, his temper, and see what lie beneath, a man who was nothing but a shield.

...What it was to truly be free?

The morning was bright without a cloud in the sky, the sun beating down upon the city as college students bustled and shoved past one another to sit within the lecture hall. Clicks of expensive oxford shoes were heard down the hall owned by a man covered in an expensive suit and accessories to match. Laptop case slung over his shoulder, pens tucked neatly in his chest pocket, the room went silent as he entered. Hair combed back, beard trimmed to a well kempt manner, closing the door behind him like a king entering the throne room, to these young men and women he was no werewolf, but still an alpha of sorts.

A thud of his books and materials, neatly tucked into folders landed on the tall desk in the front of the room, the man turning with Japanese chalk in his left hand as he wrote in neat print. Students dared to whisper, unknowing of his heightened hearing as well as his other senses, silenced themselves when he turned. He repeated what he had wrote on the board in large letters.


With a heavy germanic accent he spoke after a moment of silence.

"I strive for excellence, let me see if your version holds a candle to mine."

An immigrant from Germany, Donder has expanded the Lockhardt werewolf pack to the Americas where he currently lives while his sister, Clarissa, oversees the original pack back in Berlin. A shrewd, ambitious, and highly intelligent man, Donder is head of the mathematics department and perhaps one of the worst nightmares ever to cross the halls of the esteem Ivy League college. Known for despising tardiness, he is openly rude to questions he finds stupid and a waste of time, and will not hesitate to fail and entire class if they do not meet his standards. Even I'm not sure how he gets away with this...Most likely due to the fact he doesn't do rule breaking when it comes to grades, but he is still highly unpleasant to deal with.

Outside of work, Donder is more or less a hermit on pack territory. He prides himself on having more of a family than a pack, trained to patrol and protect the city and unknowing humans from malicious dangers that prowl into the night. Though due to the Lockhardt pack being righteous and protective, this does not stop werewolf hunters and other beast poachers from encroaching on their territory. As alpha, he understands his duty is to protect his pack and the humans of the city with all his strength, taking training and patrols highly seriously, though he is stubborn and unwilling to allow access to lone wolves who accidentally wander into his borders.

In his personal life, he was married once to a witch named Ren. They married at a young age, an already fractured relationship that they had tried to piece together. The pair ended up having a daughter, but as Ren's resentment to her husband grew, it went out of control when she found her daughter inherited the ability to transform into a beastial mutt rather than inheriting her magic skills. Attempting to poison her husband and do away with her daughter, Donder quickly banished his wife from pack territory.

Due to losing his wife, the young father who was quite a remarkable guardian before his split, turned to alcohol and gambling, becoming abusive to Pierce. Hitting her, pushing her down the stairs, and at one point forgetting her whereabouts for several weekends at a time caused him to lose custody of her to his parents and sister who flew her off to Germany for the remainder of her childhood until allowing her return to him in her early teens.

Donder still drinks quite heavily, and has a strained relationship with Pierce, though she is currently his Beta within the pack. He is not seeing anyone, though he is quite invested in one night stands. Donder treats women and men quite differently as romantic partners. He's a bit more careful with women, though he easily disregards their feelings and needs when they don't suit him. For men, he doesn't expect or give much attachment, making it hard for him to take male romantic partners seriously. In the end, a relationship with Donder has many ups and downs. I enjoy the teacher-student relationship, perhaps pairing him with a teacher's assistant would also work. He does well with human partners, and less so with werewolf partners due to loving a power dynamic with his love interest, but that shouldn't discourage pairing him with a werewolf or another supernatural creature such as a vampire...Or if you're feeling ballsy...A witch.

| Rainbow Writer ~ Lover of Eros ~ New Writer Friendly |


Nathaniel Thomas Sawyer

Sex; Male
Sexual Orientation; Homosexual
Age; 21
Birth Country; United States
Language(s); English
Current Location; New Haven, CT (United States)
Occupation; Yale Music Student
Relationship Status; Single
Children; None
Song Inspirations; "Just Breath" - Rival & Cadmium, "Room to Breath, Bite My Tongue" - You Me At Six, "Hallelujah" - Michael Henry & Justin Robinett, "Broken" - lovelytheband, "No Friends" - Cadmium & Rosendale

"Son...We've got a big surprise for you!"

Keys of ebony and ivory, bodies of hollowed wood sporting strings of nylon and steel...The practice room was bare at this time of day, and that was the way Nathaniel had prefered it, a time where no one was watching him, waiting for him to fail or judging his performance. Where he could choose the instrument, brass or woodwind, or even perhaps a string instrument, treble or bass.

"Get up and back your things, Nathan, we're going to Orlando!"

He'd choose the piano, his preferred method to convey music. The first instrument he ever learned, lessons he took in secret due to his parent's...Unnatural feelings and impulsive need to associate gender roles. He should be learning how to play football at a young age, or playing in the dirt with Tonka trucks...Not...Reading romance novels, playing farming simulator games, or learning to play the piano! He was a Sawyer's boy wasn't he? His father, uncles, grandfather, great grandfather, all turned out to work in construction, forestry, or industry of some kind, building up from the bottom. They excelled in physical activities and academics though it was their athleticism that got them into college if they picked that route.

Nathaniel chose academics, he chose music and the fine arts.

"...Mom...This...Doesn't look like the way to Florida...Um...Dad?"

"...In truth son...Your mother and I agree that you've always been...Different."

"But you taught me there's nothing wrong with being a little different..."

"You're not that kind of different, but...Don't worry. We're taking you to a place that can set you back on the path of God."

He'd play the song that got him to this prestigious school, from all the strife he had gone through in that small town in Kansas...He tried so hard to become someone very different from the backwater trash he had grown to used too, the garbage he resented with all his might. The song took all the bitterness away, he felt as if it left him to be who he was, a bit sullen, though also a bit bright without any resentment or bitterness, he hated being that person, more so than the people he hated for forcing him to change something that wasn't even his control.

Even back then,  he didn't know what type of person he liked, he just wanted a friend, but his parents thought his hobbies as a warning and lied to him anyway. Even though their assumptions turned out right, nothing warranted his last 'family trip.'

"We'll take care of little Nathan here. We'll have him rehabilitated and acting as he should be so your family can get right back on the path of God."

"B-but there's-"

"Nathaniel that's enough! This is for your own good, this is because we love you."

A bang of keys rang through the practice room, Nathaniel slamming his fingers onto the wrong notes, teeth gritted as his mind wandered back to his past. Chest heaving, he stared at the keys, his blue eyes glazed in rage before he slowly calmed himself, clearing his throat and closed his eyes. Tilting his head up, he counted to ten, reminding himself that he could choose the part he wanted to play, that they no longer had control over him.

With his eyes closed he was not staring at the back of his eyelids but the flashbacks of shock therapy, hours and hours of violent, vulgar videos, and assault from the workers at the conversion camp. He remembered not only the physical torture and torment but also the feeling of being unable to trust his parents and adults, the pain of knowing deep down this wasn't a sin, to be who he was. Why couldn't his mother and father see that?

His scar ran deeper than those on his body. He was nervous around classmates, especially men who he found quite attractive, usually standing there a sputtering mess or too afraid to stand straight. His friendships were scarce, having issues trusting people even on a friendship level but he was used to it. He was the theatre kid, the bookworm, the boy who everyone liked when homework answers were due next period. He thought it would level the playing field when he attended Yale, and in some cases it did, people were more focused on their future and academics, but he was still seen the same.

Unlocking his dorm, he let out a sigh and dropped his keys into a bowl not too far from the door before flopping on the couch. Flipping through his mail, he paused at a letter addressed to him, written by hand. Eyes narrowing, he knew the owner, even if the return address had not been posted in hopes that he would open it. He tore the letter into pieces, paper littering the floor as he stared up at the ceiling, teeth clenched.

"...I am not weak...I am not a nobody...And there's nothing...Wrong with me..."

Raised in Kansas, Nathaniel has done everything in his power to shadow his upbringing and past from the world of prestige he lives in now. He is highly sophisticated and well versed in all the subjects he's taken, though some he has not acquired the best marks, Nathaniel strives to be knowledgeable and astute, furthering himself only to put who he was and who his family is behind him. This has also caused him to hide his Kansas southern accent though it can be easily heard when he's aggravated.

He is currently studying under the college of arts, with his affinity for music he's best known for piano, trumpet, and violin though he also knows how to sing, dance, and play a wide variety of instruments. Nathaniel throws himself into his studies to the point he becomes overworked and exhausted where he collapses or is launched into a skittish depression. His pride and ego also has quite a bit to do with his mannerisms, however with all of those combined, due to his past in conversion camps up until the point he turned 18, Nathaniel has no idea how to act around men, especially those he finds attractive.

Many think Nathaniel is closeted from his past, but he's quite out and proud. It's when physical or emotional contact plays into his romantic life is where things get hairy for him. He goes through flashbacks and memories of shock therapy, whipping, beating, and other forms of torture he endured all from just a brush on the hand or cheek from a potential lover, causing many of Nathaniel's stories to be slow burns.

I don't have a specific kind of guy I want to have paired with Nathaniel,  he's been paired at times with absolute wolves of men, and some very sweet, so all I have to say is surprise me! We can do a wolf in sheep's clothing sort of deal or anything that can be full of fluff, but I quite enjoy the ups and down of this character and his mental health aspects that come into play. Nathaniel is one of the characters I will almost never say no to playing.

| Rainbow Writer ~ Lover of Eros ~ New Writer Friendly |


Fenrick "Finn" Robert Jewel

Species; Human
Sex; Male
Sexual Orientation; Homosexual (Closeted)
Age; 18
Birth Country;United States
Language(s); English
Current Location; United States (Exact location varies from story to story)
Occupation; Senior at High School, Grocery/Produce clerk and fruit cutter at local grocery store
Relationship Status; Single
Children; None
Song Inspirations; "Stitches" - Shawn Mendes, "If I Killed Someone For You" - Alec Benjamin, "Doubt" - Twenty One Pilots, "Myself" - NEFFEX, "Majesty" - Apashe, "Twisted" - MISSIO, "Don't Mess with Me" - Temposhark, "Blood//Water" - Grandson, "Karma" - AJR

They spray painted his locker again. In disgusting black letters written in equally repulsive penmanship "FAG" sprawling on his locker, tips of letters having spilled out on the lockers next to him. He didn't even have to turn the passcode on the lock, the door falling open with the bottom hinge busted from being kicked in. His textbooks ripped to pieces, his homework having burns and tears in them as everything else of his within the locker was broken in some way, shape, or form. 

Shutting his locker, he made his way for gym class knowing full well it would be nothing but hell on Earth for a simple hour of his day.

Thrown against the bench in the locker room, the other boys kicked and pushed him around without any pushback from the young Jewel boy. The teachers and coaches acted like nothing happened as they always did, walking down the hall, shutting the door to their office, and turning the other cheek. He did nothing, there was no point in fighting back...Not like this...The last time he did well...

"I'm sorry Finn...But you broke Daniel's nose and busted Derek's chin. We can't just let this slide you know...Violence within our school tarnishes our strive for excellence." Informed the Headmaster as Finn sat in his office, his nails digging into the expensive leather seat.

"It was in self defence! Th-they...H-he..."

"Our sources show you 'went off of them' due to some...Personal issues you are dealing with. I'm afraid we will have to inform Congressman Jewel that his son will be suspended from our preparatory school for one week."

Picking himself up, he slowly grabbed his things and skipped the rest of his classes for the afternoon, not like any of the instructors remembered to call roll anyway. He couldn't go home to face his parents, a mother who wouldn't do anything, not even raise her voice to her husband, and a father who beat him senseless, calling him sick and broken...

Staring at the front door, he knew it would only get worse once his parents saw the wounds, especially while his father was busy with his campaign for his congress seat. He hated them, his professors, classmates, mother, father, and especially God. If he was to hate him for what he had created him to be, there was no such thing as a higher power. Not when he was put here for suffering and nothing more. Opening the lock, he attempted to make it up the stairs before anyone noticed his presence, sneaking past the living room where his father sat in a suit sipping scotch.

"Son. Let's see what gracious punishment has been bestowed on that wicked face of yours today...Hellen, get the makeup ready. I can't have the press see my son looking like that." His wife nodded, her head down, a sickening woman, a dog no less doting to her master. Finn slowly took a step off the stairs, setting his bag against the railing before obediently presenting his presence before his father, eyes also down but he was no dog, more like a circus wolf with no way out and no will to live.

Jerry stared at his son, no love within his eyes as he sat the glass on a coaster sitting on the coffee table, leaning under it to pull out a box with an engraved cross on it, revealing a flog as he motioned his son to turn around and kneel on his knees. "Your mother will fix up your face. No one's gonna see your back, boy. This is what happens when you're sick and refused to be fixed. It's fagets like you that plague this God-born country."

Finn closed his eyes, brunet brows furrowing as he heard his father without any mercy or second thought rase the weapon pointed for his scarred back.


Those nights played over and over within the young Jewel's head, behind his eyes as he stood there in the middle of what was, only a couple of minutes ago, his father's living room. The house was almost spotless, save for the floor. A dark red liquid, thick to the touch almost like syrup stained the floor under two bodies whose faces were unrecognizable. Their structures had been warped and beaten, crushed to the backs of their skulls.

Finn's once seafoam green eyes were now a slate grey as they moved slowly around the scene, taking every inch of brain matter that had been splattered across the floor, his green Converse shoe tapping in the pool of blood before nudging at what was the man's body just to make sure there was no more movement. His left hand was covered in blood, in it held some award his father had won, for politics, Finn was sure. It didn't matter, all the figure was to the young man was a reminder of where his parents had placed him in the grand scheme of things.

Finn didn't flinch as he heard sirens nearing the gate of the community, turning his head to look over at the front door. His hand released the bludgeoning object as it clattered to the floor, he didn't care if there were fingerprints on it, Finn already knew where he was going. Making his way through the bodies as he pulled up the hood from his red jacket over his curly hair, he made it a point to step into the bashed in skull of his father, then onto the ripped-open chest cavity of his mother before making his way through the house to the back door, and quietly left the scene.

The son of a powerful congressman, Finn was born into a lavish lifestyle with money they could buy just about anything in the state. His father and mother are considered in many ways, ultra-conservatives with traditional values and run their campaign with them. Finn on the other hand, never been one to agree with his father's values, especially when expressing masculinity and family. Due to his strict, Christian upbringing, Finn is well aware he is in the closet, and well aware that he is stuck chin deep in denial about it.

I like pairing Finn with older men, but I can go a lot of ways with him. The thing to note that he is quite different from Nathaniel in many personality ways. You see, Nathaniel is genuine, he is a good person and makes an effort to stay that way. Finn, due to his trauma and abuse however, went the complete opposite way and can be just as toxic as his father, especially when dealing with a relationship while he himself is still backed up in the closet. He's manipulative and selfish, some of this is genetic from his parents, and the other side just comes from his lifestyle of being kicked down and abused to the point that he can't stand the thought of opening up fully to someone.

He's been in stories where he's turned into a werewolf, became master of a high level drug ring, and hopefully much more. I really want to go dark with him, so please if you're interested, let's talk about a twisted romance story and see where it leads to us. Finn normally is considered a submissive, but he's been toying with his mind control techniques.

| Rainbow Writer ~ Lover of Eros ~ New Writer Friendly |



Pierce Rowan Locke

Species; Human, Werewolf (Born)
Sex; Female
Sexual Orientation; Heterosexual
Age; 22
Birth Country; Germany
Language(s); German, English, Russian, some Arabic
Current Location; Major Ivy League University (Or an equivalently prestigious school)
Occupation; Psychiatric Student, Cook at an italian restaurant, Beta of the Lockehardt Pack
Relationship Status; Single
Children; None
Song Inspirations; "Oh Miss Believer, Air Catcher, My Blood" - Twenty One Pilots, "Counting Stars" OneRepublic, "Hear Me, Natural" - Imagine Dragons, "V-Pop" Lindsey Stirling, "Safe and Sound" - Capital Cities, "Wolves" - Selena Gomez

Scribbling in the margins of notes, doodles of wolves, lions, badgers, all the way to fantastical creatures like dragons, gryphons, and a bust of an orc that looked surprisingly similar to her history professor as he ranted on about the Cold War, not paying attention to the fact that no one was in fact...Paying attention.

"Miss Locke?"
Dr. Frostly asked for an answer to his question that if she was being honest didn't quite hear the majority of it. Glancing up from her notes, she knew she had to answer correctly, she always did, because that was the part she was supposed to play. She was the daughter of the Math Department Head, the daughter and beta to his massive packs of werewolves sworn to protect unknowing and vulnerable humans from other supernatural creatures with malicious intent.

"Berlin Blockade," She answered dryly with a hint of a german accent and held with great force an eye roll when her professor gestured for the second part of her answer.

"...And Airlift..." She said as and released her eye roll when he was no longer looking, going back to her doodling while the rest of the class dozed off and snapped out of sleep for a few moments.

Where was she...Oh yes, the eyes...

The mother of a witch that wanted nothing to do with a child that had no magical abilities and inherited her father's beastial form, a drunkard father with an abuse streak when she was younger, a pack that was afraid of her due to her icy, no nonsense demeanor...What was she to do? How could she lead them? Pierce wasn't perfect, not even close. Social skills were not her forte, she was good at analyzing problems fixing individuals who had nowhere else to go, and a love for medicine, but she just couldn't people.

Ugh, people. Pierce thought to herself, a dark brown brow twitching in irritation as she stabbed her paper to darken a wolf's pupil. Why did they need to be so difficult, why couldn't the 'lone wolf' be a true thing instead of a saying shot at quiet students who couldn't rely on anyone else around them.

That was the problem, Pierce could never rely on anyone. The people in her life she was born to rely on did an absolute shit job of protecting her, and her socially ineptitude was another sword through the throat. Sitting back in her chair, she glanced at the clock awaiting for the professor to give them their homework and leave. She was not a professor's pet, she never was and never would be. Professors were floored with her, acing all of her classes with little to no effort (on the surface but on the inside some days she wondered if she was dying or if she was being overdramatic) all to get out of college and do her own thing.

But was this really what she wanted?

She loved psychology, psychiatry was also a successful field...But either way she would still become the next alpha of one of the oldest packs in the world, she'd still be tied down to wolves who she knew like family, and yes on the surface that seemed great but...

Could I even handle that?

Waking up from her thoughts, she shoved everything in her bag and left the classroom, needing to take a walk...Or have a glass of wine...One of the two at this point, she felt more like her father on days such as this one.

The full moon was in three days, she could already feel the ache in her bones, the itch in her fangs. Most civilized wolves hated the full moon, where they lost all sense of their humanity, but in Pierce's case, she loved it. She felt close to her wolf, one with the form. Phasing even when forced didn't feel so hard anymore, almost as if she gave into it, as if she still had some ounce of control during the insanity.

Even for just a moment, even in a titanium cage built to hold rampaging wolves, she would lose her sense of control, the sense she carried with her in every waking moment, just to feel a little bit free.

The daughter of Donder Locke, Pierce not only inherited lycanthropy from her father, but also his stubbornness, brashness, abrasiveness, and powerful intellect. From her mother, though to her knowledge she has no magical powers, she is highly introverted and untrusting to any and all who attempt to befriend her. A bit of a 'lone wolf' compared to other werewolves, especially within the pack, Pierce is less likely to warm up to just about anyone. Being raised in a toxic household with parents who were highly overbearing on her from a young age, Pierce was forced day and night into studies, being able to read at an incredibly young age, even dubbed a prodigy by teachers and tutors. Not sure if it is entirely genetic, what Pierce doesn't tell others is that she was isolated at an early age to focus on studies and intelligence growth from both of her parents.

Having a knack for cooking and art, it was soon apparent to her parents that she could have possibly ended up as the 'art kid,' to which Ren and Donder refused to allow. Burning her sketchbooks, magazines, and anything that could pose as a distraction to her, Pierce was forced to only read and watch media that would benefit her education. As you could probably expect, this has led Pierce to be highly intelligent but also cold and detached from others. She is socially inept, and can easily become frustrated with people and their emotional turmoil. It isn't that Pierce herself is void of turmoil, but moreover that she is drowning in her own depression and anxiety from having no childhood and immediately being thrust into adulthood without the help of well...Anyone. Because she could not pursue what she loved, she ended up picking something she liked enough to go after for a career, this being psychology and the study of criminal psychiatry. Throughout college which she has attended to since a young age, it has helped her understand more of herself and the world around her, though her passion is understanding how criminals become what they are, the general basis for how minds work fascinates her. Also now due to living on her own without her father's approval, Pierce has been able to not so secretly enjoy all the things she currently enjoys. Superheros, video games, Magic the Gathering, Dungeons & Dragons, one could say she's a massive nerd.

This is a slowburn, high fluff story if picked. Drama can very much ensue within this story especially due to Pierce's depression and the fact she is juggling work, school, a Ph.D, and being trained to take over Lockhardt pack once Donder feels the need to step down. Unlike her father she is easiest paired with another werewolf so that they have something huge in common. However, it would also be highly entertaining with a dramatic twist if her partner is just a human. I enjoy the teacher-student relationship, with a bit of an age gap between them, about 7-10 years or so. This can cause drama between her father who desperately wants to reconnect with her, and her love interest, or perhaps she finds a bad boy of some degree, I'm willing to try a lot of new things with her so please, surprise me.

| Rainbow Writer ~ Lover of Eros ~ New Writer Friendly |


Nikolai Alexandrovich Volkov

Species; Human Mage (Animus)
Sex; Male
Sexual Orientation; Pansexual, Asexual Spectrum - hard to explain (He's weird, just keep reading)
Age; Appears 28
Birth Country; Europe
Language(s); English, Russian, German, French
Current Location; Mostly travels in Europe, can also be stationed in the United States.
Occupation; "Handyman"
Relationship Status; Single
Children; None
Song Inspirations; "Army" - Besomorph, Arcando & Neoni, "Twisted" - MISSIO, "No Friends" - Cadmium & Rosendale, "Oblivion" - Dirty Palm, "One for the Money" - Escape the Fate, "Glitter & Gold" - Barns Courtney, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" - Green Day, "Dangerous" - Left Boy, "Breaking My Bones" - Friday Pilots Club

The gentleman felt followed, though it was broad daylight and he was walking upon mainstreet. No one should be paying him any mind whatsoever, everyone on their phones or listening to music...Reading papers, looking at the large televisions that dotted the skyscrapers and shop windows...The man carried a briefcase while he himself was dressed to play his part, an ordinary businessman. Daylight hours were still far from over as he winded through the crowds of people, mumbling curses when he was bumped into and shoving others off and out of his way.

I've got eyes on me... The man was beginning to grow paranoid as he skipped and turned the corner into an alleyway hoping to lose whoever or whatever was watching and waiting patiently. Making his way down the alley, he paused by a rusted door and glanced down at a...

"Fuck off ya stupid cat," the man snarled at the creature. The smokey maine coon peaked its head up and stared back at the man with rusted red eyes, the man shivering. "Fuckin' mangy, creepy little beast," the man snarled and kicked at it, causing the cat to hiss and flee to a nearby dumpster to perch upon. The animal's gaze did not follow the drunken man for long before going about his business until his target was acquired. A woman stood at a trolly stop, shivering and holding onto the pole adjacent to her. The cat's shadow was cast upon the brick and concrete buildings as its form began to shift smoothly into that of a tall man as he swiftly opened his umbrella as he stood next to the woman and held it over her with a charming crooked smile.

"A bit nippy out this evening hmm?" He purred, his Russian accent dripping from his tongue as the woman seemed to stare starstruck into his odd white irises, focused on those fiery flecks within. His charm was effective as he spoke, only sealing the deal on this unfortunate soul. "Might I accompany you? There have been reports of murders and gang violence throughout these streets recently." He purred as she nodded, jaw slightly ajar as the trolly came to a stop.

He played this game with her, cat and mouse as most would call it. Honestly, Volkov thought it more of a game with spiders and flies, his traps were always set. Chatting with her, keeping her under his spell of being mister tall, dark, and handsome while also increasingly charming the woman hadn't a care in the world when he left the trolly with her, giving her a chuckle at some worthless joke.

Next, as his plan continued she invited him inside, the animus mage flashing  her a devious grin that only fueled the night's advances. More talking, a few drinks here and there, and magically the pair made it to the bedroom. Once her back was turned, Nikolai knew it was time to strike from his web and with a click of his silencer upon his gun, he slid behind the woman as she undressed and wrapped a hand around her waist pressing a kiss to her neck and the barrel to her temple.

- - -

Straightening his collar and smoothing out his pea coat, Nikolai found himself on a bench within a park, the street lamp flickering above him as he lit a cigarette and typed on his phone.

"Ah, yes she's taken care of. You've single handedly allowed me to take out an entire bloodline." He purred to the other voice on the phone as he toyed with a switch blade in his other hand. "Now on the terms of my payment...I made it quite clear as a humble assassin I will take it as soon as I have delivered."

Oh Nikolai, where do I start? Nikolai is an animus mage, which means that he is able to turn into any animal he desires as long as he has a piece of the animal's DNA. He can also turn specific body parts into that of an animal's and this uses less energy from him (ex. head of a cobra, hand of a leopard's for its claws, etc). He cannot switch between quickly lest he wishes not to move for long periods of time, and if he morphs forms for too long he will begin to loose his humanity.

That being said, he also has the ability to change into magical creatures that fall under the 'animalia' category. Doing this also costs quite a bit of his energy and he must only stay in this form for a short period of time. This part of his power is quite the double-edged sword.

Personality-wise, he's going to be difficult for anyone to pursue a relationship with him mostly because...Well he doesn't really get relationships or intimacy which is why he falls into a weird part of the asexual label. He grew up in an incredibly poor, incredibly abusive household in the northern parts of Russia. After the death of his parents, he was put in a slave trafficking ring and pulled all over Europe and west Asia until he finally honed his carnal 'killing' instincts and became an assassin.

He does freelance work and is quite well known among politicians, governments, and powerful people. His methods can range from quick and painless to bloodthirsty and ruthless where he enjoys playing with the client's victims. Personality-wise he is as said before, aloof when it comes to natural human emotions (though it will take him some time to learn) and has his own triggers which will cause him to react violently. He's a weird dude, but most certainly not harmless. If you want someone unpredictable but difficult to fall in love, he's probably a good candidate.

| Rainbow Writer ~ Lover of Eros ~ New Writer Friendly |


| Rainbow Writer ~ Lover of Eros ~ New Writer Friendly |