Procrastinator's Manifesto: ♀ for ♂|♀|⚧

[Pink Zebra]

♥Welcome To & Thanks For Stopping By My Request Thread!♥

Check back frequently for new cravings, pairings, writing examples, fancy formatting, et cetera.

I've been role-playing for the better part of my life, as wild as that is for me to say now (hello 30’s). I consider myself a Literate-to-Advanced-Literate writer (though don't we all?) and I'm searching for a handful of partners with a compatible style to create wonderful, hilarious, horrific, heart-breaking, uplifting stories with. Below you will find a wide array of cravings, plot ideas, genres, and character tropes I enjoy. Please feel free to PM me if you spy anything that tickles your fancy.

On this page I will answer a few questions about myself that will hopefully help those of you who clicked on this thread to determine if I am the right partner for you. If there is anything you are uncertain of after reading this, please PM me and ask! I’ll likely use your question and format it into my post to help others as well. I’m friendly, and don’t bite unless provoked. ♡



♥♥ Character Preferences:

I prefer playing female characters who are sexual beings. They may consider themselves sexually submissive but are absolutely not weak minded/willed. I immensely enjoy power play and power struggle, and love pitting two dominant personalities against one another. I have previously described my characters as being submissive, and being attracted to masculinity, but I've found that isn't accurate. I enjoy complexity with the opposing main character. Whatever you want your character to be, whether its the brooding cowboy type or grating Pan prankster, or something beyond or in-between, I want my character to have to peel back layers. Dig deep and discover things about their own person and their love interest that no one else knows.

At this time I do not have the muse to play a male main character. 

I have never played and prefer not to play a trans character as I do not have the personal experience to accurately portray that gender identity, but I am comfortable playing against them. If you enjoy playing FtM, MtF or Non-Binary characters, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. ♡ It's not what is between the character's legs that my characters will find attractive.

♥♥ Plot or Smut?

For me Plot ≥ Smut I find my muses wither away quickly when smut takes the forefront of a story, though that being said I am not opposed to copious amounts of smut as long as we remain consistent with the plot, and continue to move the story forward. A 3-month long orgy will have me losing my inspiration. That being said, I am sometimes craving a very short-term, smut-heavy role-play. You will find pairings for such below, labeled with an [ ACTIVE ] [ INACTIVE ] switch to let you know if I am currently looking for something "quick n' dirty".

♥♥ Post Length:

In the second post of this thread you will find examples of my posts: two introductory posts, one mid-story post, and one sex-scene post. These are typical examples of my writing, though I am able to adjust easily to what I am given from my partners. The minimum I will typically provide are two robust paragraphs, and often so in scenes where dialogue, sex, or violence are focuses of the moment. I only expect my partner to give me what they are inspired to create, and don’t have any firm requirements on post length. Quality over quantity.

♥♥ Response Frequency:

I am a slave to my muses. While I am often seen around the site, I am not always available to reply. I strive for weekly responses, though to be frank I am often replying twice a month. Occasionally, when the muse is hot, I am able to reply daily or multiple times a day. This is rare, though, and not an accurate reflection of my availability.

I do not drop stories without explanation or warning, so if I am silent for longer than a month, please trust me that I am still interested in our story, I am just unable to rile my muse or am dealing with stress in my personal life. I am fairly chatty with my partners, however, especially those within the same time zone, and I do my best to warn my partners of any moments where I will be unable to respond for longer than two weeks. If you are concerned that I have fallen off the face of the Earth or have lost interest, I will not fault you for checking in with me after a week’s time but I do not participate with writers who pester for responses.

♥♥ God-Modding:

I cannot stress this enough, I do not believe that making minor assumptions of my character’s behavior is god-modding. To write into your post that my character accepts a cup of tea, or phone call, or handshake in order to move the scene forward is a completely and utterly acceptable thing for me. I will be doing this in my own posts.

If you are unsure how my character will respond, just shoot me an OOC PM.

Example: “MC is going to ask YC to dance, will she accept?”

If the above is confusing to you in anyway, feel free to message me for clarification.

♥♥ Visual Aids:

I am a sucker for a good face claim. I love real-life actors, actresses, models, etc, and I love gifs. I don’t expect my partners to be the same, and I will alternate to pure description in my writing instead if my partner is opposed but I do steer away from anime/manga type references. Some artistic/drawn references work wonders for me, though, and I have been known to use them on occasion when I cannot find a RL face claim as listed above.

Below I have a list of actors and models I use on a regular basis to represent my characters. Feel free to ogle. ♡

♥♥ Kinks:

My list of kink and plot-kink preferences can be found here, in Pink’s Double O’s.

[Pink Zebra]

♥Writing Samples♥

Synopsis: The divine war between the Holy and Unholy has spilled forth onto Earth and decimated the world that we know. A great storm churns on the horizon, growing in size until it threatens to consume the world. 5 years after Heaven ripped open the sky and Hell burst forth from the ground, humans are hanging on by a thread. Those that survive are on constant pilgrimage to remain outside the chaos that boils underneath The Storm, with rumors of safe and untouchable harbors breathing hope into the hearts of survivors. Those who do fall under the shadows of the storm die, or return... changed. Demons scour the Earth. Angels hunt from above. They are searching for something that will ensure their victory in this war, or someone.
Setting: Post-Apoc
Tags: Survival, Partnership, Trust, Betrayal, Sacrifice, Immaculate Conception, Angels, Demons, Premonitions
Status: Active

After The Gold Rush (intro)

Every step felt like added weight trying to drag her down, the heavy burden of life pressing on her shoulders as they climbed the inclining road toward an ever-changing destination. Away was all they could refer to their ambiguous harbor, as far from the great storm as they could manage. It had only been a handful of years since the tear first appeared on the horizon. She had already lived her childhood, and had just managed to peel herself out of the chrysalis of early adulthood to the prime of her life when she woke in a cold sweat in the dead of winter, a feverish dream of nightmares turned to flesh pulling her from her slumber by the raw edge of her nerves until she stood on her apartment balcony and watched the early morning sky bleed.

The only measurement of time since that morning was the small pocketbook calendar she kept on her person. It was important to her for some reason to know what day it was. What month. What she would have been celebrating or mourning had her life continued on that same trajectory of mundane capitalistic drives, churning her ‘round and ‘round again in a giant, invisible hamster wheel until she died. Either by overdose, or trust, she supposed. Trust is what killed most people before, and now.

And yet, here she was: climbing an old, forgotten highway up the cascades toward the coast, the furthest reach from the furious maw scarring the horizon, with three strangers who had trusted her to show them where to go.

Connor walked in the lead, his old boots starting to tear away from the soles, adding a unique clop to his step that picked at her ears like a scab. Noah and Mia were next, walking close as siblings would naturally do, with her pulling up the rear. Just a few more miles up this road and there would be an exit leading to an old convenience store. One of the few for miles, and hopefully remote enough that supplies would still be plentiful. It was as sure in her memory as her mother’s face, and she could nearly feel the cool metal of the shelves under her finger tips, and the crack of the bag as she pulled it open.

No- that wasn’t right.

Seraphine lifted her head in confusion, meeting the horrified eyes of Connor as he turned and lunged toward her, hand rising to his neck as a waterfall of red ran down his denim jacket.

Crack!

Noah crumpled next, close enough to Mia that his blood painted her in crimson, blistering her mouth as she screamed.

Sera dove, rolling for the shallow ravine off the side of the road and scraping along the rocks and overgrown grass and brambles toward the meager, and only cover her surroundings offered within reach. Mia followed with the incoordination of a lanky teenager with minimal athletic ability. She’d had a future as an engineer if the world hadn’t gone to shit, but it had. And to survive took a cut throat ambition and determination that the young Swiss expat lacked.

Pressing herself flat against the embankment, Sera’s cheek dug into the frozen ground as she hissed at Mia to stay down, but her hysteria and hope to find Connor still alive fed her stupidity, and ultimately, lost her her head. Fingers curled into the frigid dirt and rock, her molars clenched as she watched whatever flicker of life remained in the young girls gaze fade, body thrown awkwardly back against the riverbed as if a trucker had discarded an empty cup out of his window while passing.

Anger burned like a white hot coal in her chest, sinking down into her belly as she laid still and quiet. Listening, and waiting. She counted the seconds in her head, one mississippi, two mississippi… starting over with every minute. Her nerves were on fire with adrenaline. Run demanded her body, her mind, Run! but whoever it was sniping pedestrians was a quick shot with deadly aim. She’d never make it to the trees. Her only hope was to wait him out hidden in the weeds, until nightfall, and hope he didn’t have night vision or thermal scopes. She closed her eyes, forcing her breath through her clenched teeth and strained her ears; settling into the mental high-stakes game this day had become.

She wasn’t sure how long she laid there, muscles stiffening to near-bone from the intensity, when she heard the soft clacking of small rocks falling. Her eyes snapped open, one bisected with green and amber, the other simply brown, and stared at the stalks of grass at the end of her nose; unfocused as she strained to hear more. Another rockfall, still small, but enough to make her certain. The sniper was descending from his perch. She would have to fight to defend herself.

With great care, she slipped her arms through the straps of her backpack and shifted out from underneath it so it lay beside her. She moved with precision that had been honed from a lifetime of urban survival, avoiding the smallest missteps that could set off her mother’s cash cow of the month, translated so fluidly to this new world it was almost as if this is where she was always meant to be. Unzipping the front pouch, she pulled free the most wieldable of her defenses: her shovel. While long ago it may have been a less formidable tool used strictly for digging, purpose had honed the edges into blades, and some focus with a hatchet, sandpaper, and grip tape designed for baseball bats transformed the handle into something multipurpose for the apocalypse. It was all she had, and the stains that had soaked into the wood promised that it had worked before.

Leaving her pack where it lay, she started sliding across the embankment parallel to the road above, keeping her head, shoulders and butt down, and using her core, forearms and shins to propel herself as quickly and as carefully as possible; out of sight and keeping her ears trained on any sound that would betray her enemy’s position.

Time seemed to crawl by so slowly, and yet it was only a heartbeat later that she heard him. The rustle of weeds adjacent to her right. He’d circled around, but not far enough, and Sera tasted copper at the back of her throat as she lifted her head just enough to catch his position before she ducked again; holding her breath as she tightened her grip on her weapon.

Three… two...

Seraphine Claire, if you’re gonna hit someone, don’t fuckin’ mess ‘round and juss hit’em.

The slurred accent of her mother cut through her mind, propelling her to act. And just in time. Whether he had sensed her, heard her, or saw her, she couldn’t be sure, but as Sera’s eyes lifted and her gaze landed on the 9mm aimed for her chest, her shovel followed; striking the barrel away just in time.

Synopsis: An ancient Deer God betrayed nature, killing and eating the heart of the Wolf God. He turned into a monstrous, twisted being, until he was overpowered and trapped within an Ash Tree in an ancient forest by the Wolf Kin. To this day, werewolves guard the forest, and the tree, waiting for the day the Deer God’s descendent returns to free him.
Setting: Modern Day Light Fantasy/Supernatural
Tags: Supernatural, Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Deities, Prophecy, Destiny, Soulmates, Good v. Evil
Status: Active

A Promise of Ash (intro)

He came from the woods.

Dyani had not seen the murder scene first hand, but that did not stop her from knowing it like the nuanced gait of a lover. She arrived to Port Luella after the scene had already been processed, cleaners called, and the blood washed off the walls. Carpets remained with dark, putrid stains, telling the partial story of a family torn to pieces. A memorial service was held for the deceased: an elderly couple and their three grandchildren ranging in age from six to fourteen years old. The parents lived on, though the state of numbness that they currently floated within couldn't be considering living by even the barest means. It reminded her of the husks of people she would encounter during war.

When she was briefed by Chief Finnigan, he apologized for the unorthodox inheritance of the case. It had been, as he had put it, the final straw for her predecessor. The man packed up his desk, turned in his gun and badge, and left the file on the desk for whatever poor soul took his place.

She flipped through it now. There were other cases for her to work, of course. A small department like Port Luella's still had an average of 8 active cases per detective, but she couldn't get the haunting scenes out of her mind. A fist, still dimpled with baby fat, curled reflexively around the foot of the bed it had clung to; the boy ripped from underneath the impromptu shelter. She continued to go back to that file, to part the pages and peer into upon the transparent sheet of plastic and gelatin emulsion as if she were looking back through the folds of time to a place forever locked in the traumatic memories of the townspeople of Port Luella.

Reports, and statements, and photos… they weren't enough. Dyani needed to feel the scene. She needed to walk through the broken glass back window, now just a frame, and step over the blood-swollen carpet room by room. Tracing the killer's steps. Tracing his escape.

His.

Statistically, if a woman murdered another person, it was through more subtle means like poison. This violence stank of a man. An unhinged man. One that would likely do this again if he wasn't caught.

Grasping her keys, Dyani stepped out of her basement apartment to her 2005 Silver Honda Civic and set on her way. GPS told her the house was only a twenty minute drive from her apartment inland. Toward the thousands of acres of private property owned by one of the most influential families this town had. The forest was miles of opportunity to escape, to hide bodies, to hide out. It was possible the man was still in there, picking away at his teeth and chewing on the fruits of his labor. Reveling in, or hiding from the violence he was capable of.

The case file sat on her passenger seat like a cipher. The answers buried deep within the information, she just had to understand the code.

3245 Mount Pleasant Rd, Port Luella, Washington was a private, beautiful blue single-family home nestled on five acres of forested land that butted right up against the Lowell property line. It had six parking spaces at the end of a private road, with a single lane dirt path leading to the RV port of the three car shop that the owner had built by hand with his son in 1975. It was left to their children, though it was likely to never be touched by a relative of the original owners again. Yellow tape draped across the front door, black block letters reading "CRIME SCENE - DO NOT CROSS". A red sticker crossed from the door to the frame, ensuring that if anyone came by the scene the investigators would know by the broken seal. Dyani took out her pocket knife and sliced through it before pulling the house keys from the evidence bag in her pocket. Once inside she slipped the items back into her jeans, and lifted her hand to press her index and middle finger under her nose.

It was faint, but prominent to the detective. Death permeated this house. Seeped into the very walls. Not a calm, soft death, but high pitched wails of souls severed from this world before their time. The scene had been processed, so Dyani didn't worry about using gloves. It helped her anyway, to feel the surface under her bare skin. She took one step forward, and then another, trailing her hand behind her on the wall; fingertips grazing the bumpy texture and imagining the laughs that once filled this home. The banter. The love. She walked straight through toward the back where a plywood sheet had been erected where the assailant broke in. She unlocked the back door and pushed it open, revealing an expansive and gorgeous view overlooking the miles of forest that stretched over rolling hills, and the Salish sea beyond.

Sliding her palms over the wooden railing, she turned her head suddenly and sharply toward the left, toward the forest. It felt as if someone had tied a string behind her belly button and tugged. It was hardly noticeable tickle at first. Like the flutter one gets as they're strapped into a rollercoaster, not quite to the crest of the hill, but the anticipation builds. And it builds and builds until it feels like your nerves are ascending through sinew and flesh to be worn on the outside of your skin; bare and raw to the world.

With a swing of her hips, she faced the stairs that lead down to the gravel path wrapping around the house. She had intended to be inside the walls, searching for evidence with fresh eyes, but the forest… she canted her head to the side, burnt coffee eyes seeking answers from the gentle shift of leaves and pine needles in the breeze.

Stepping off the gravel to the grass lawn, she made her way toward the beckoning trees with only an inkling of what she was searching for. Five words circling her mind like water down a drain, pulling her deeper and deeper into her own madness.

He came from the woods.

Synopsis: A Nephilim unaware of what she is, performs a miracle, attracting the attention of Knights of Heaven and Hell alike. Unknowingly hunted by both sides, she is found first by a demon who attempts to seduce her in order to win her to his side. In the end, does the Demon seduce the Nephilim, or does the Nephilim seduce the Demon?
Setting: Modern Day Light Fantasy/Supernatural
Tags: Angels, Demons, Nephilim, Prophecy, Unseen War, Corruption, Romance
Status: Active

Kingdom Come (normal post)

I can't.

Like ice water dumped over her shoulders on a hot day.

Daya's grip on his cock stilled, her thumb holding against the engorged velvet tip as he pulled his hands from her body and rubbed his face. Her eyebrow shot up, mouth agape in surprise as she laughed mirthlessly; a sharp, sudden exhalation of breath that ended as quickly as she started.

"What?"

He pulled back and she released him, hand falling to her side as she stayed frozen against the brick wall and watched him. The way he fumbled with his pants spoke volumes. He moved like a man regretting his decision, but pushing forward anyway. She smirked, shaking her head and wiping her hands on her jeans before she cleared her throat and crossed her arms defensively; lifting one sneaker up to hook on the wall as she smirked with ire.

"You're serious."

Dark eyes dropped to the stiff cock he was shoving back in his pants before she clenched her teeth, tendon in her jaw popping in her cheek before she relaxed with a steady exhale through her nose. She watched him, waiting for some sort of explanation to his sudden shift in direction when he mentioned his wife. She hesitated with her anger, her disappointment, startled by the sight of tears brimming his impossibly blue eyes as he stepped into her space again; hand on her cheek as he poured his apology into his eyes.

Daya buckled then. Just a little. Her lips pursed into a tight line as she shook her head and rolled her face from the cradle of his palm with a sigh.

"It's fine."

And she meant it. Looking back up at him with sincerity as she pushed off the alley wall and slid her hands over the front of her body. She eyed the door, wondering if it would be worthwhile to step back into the club and see if she could find another way of erasing the last few days from her mind but… Turning her attention back up to the mystery man in front of her, she sighed and then smiled. Lifting herself up on her toes and using his shoulders to balance herself, she placed a single, soft kiss on his lips. Gentle. Comforting.

"Maybe we'll meet again when you're ready."

Sliding her hand from his shoulder to his chest, she let her eyes linger on the bare skin of his collarbone before she patted his pectoral and stepped out from the shelter of his body. Daya took several steps down the alley before she stopped, turning to look at him with her fingers buried in the tight pockets of her jeans.

"There's a grief counseling group that meets Thursday nights at the Korean church on 68th."

Her gaze lingered on him, feeling something in her gut tugging at her to go back to him, but Daya had more self control and respect than that. She inhaled a deep breath and sighed, shoulders dropping as she offered him one last smile and then turned; heading to the street to flag herself a cab. She had a spoon, two boys and a handful of double A's at home that would help assuage her needs for the evening. Going back into the club now just felt… icky.

Synopsis: A financially struggling college girl receives a job offer by a wealthy businessman to be his personal assistant. 50-Shades rewritten without the stalking/rape.
Setting: Modern Day, Pseudo-Slice-of-Life
Tags: BDSM, Older Man, Younger Woman, Inexperienced Sub
Status: Inactive

The Dotted Line (sex scene)

Get on your knees.

The look in her eyes… she was the most turned on that he’d ever seen her. She was still testy. That was for sure. Margot would probably never not be, in some way, a challenge for him. But there was no question that she was enjoying this. She rolled her tongue over her lips to frame that wicked, lust-filled smile before she started to shift herself down to her knees. With the spreader bar between her ankles, and her arms tied behind her back, it was difficult. And awkward. She felt the tingling in her gut, the softest flare of embarrassment and shame, that she realized was tied to this sort of power play. Rolling her eyes up to his, she held his gaze as she went down to the floor. Her heels didn’t help her balance either.

As soon as her knees hit the floor, the vibrations started again. Margaret sighed happily and closed her eyes as her head fell back. Her entire body tremored with pleasure; little twitches and jerks as she fought against what bound her instinctively. Her moment didn’t last very long on her own, as his hands were at her cheeks and guiding her face to his cock. She opened her mouth greedily and rolled her eyes up to meet his as he pushed inside of her; slowly at first. The sensation of him filling her mouth while that little toy kept buzzing deep within her sex. She practically came right then and there.

But he started moving faster. Harder. Using her mouth like he’d use her pussy any other day of the week. She started to choke, to gag, but she couldn’t pull away. Her eyes pinched closed as tears started to well, her concentration fully on not biting him or scraping her teeth against him as he fucked her mouth. She struggled to breathe, and as panic started to well in her chest. She started to struggle harder; calling out though her words were muffled by his thickness. The little toy kept pulsing in her womanhood until she was soaked. Her breasts covered in the lines of saliva that leaked out from her abused mouth, and her thighs glistening with the ache she had for him to fuck her there.

And then he was gone. She gasped, choking for air and taking deep, hard lung-fulls of air until her chest felt like it was on fire. She turned her eyes up to look for him, but felt him instead as he put his hands around her and guided her to the floor. She clenched her abs to keep herself from tipping over too fast and smashing her face on the ground, and sucked in a trembling breath once she was in position. She remembered her dream, of her arms bound at her ankles and her ass in the air; raw and red from being whipped until Rome thrust his cock inside of her.

Her eyes closed and she turned her face until her forehead pressed against the cool hardwood; her eyes closing and her lips quaking as he pulled the toy free from her. She was completely exposed to him; bound and unable to get away even if she wanted to. The smooth bare flesh of her ass and glistening pussy swollen and aching for him as he looked down at his prize.

God, she fucking loved this.

[Pink Zebra]

♥Pairings♥

Searching For Quick n' Smutty: [ Active ] [ Inactive ]

My role preferences are bolded. Pairings with a ⁂ in front of them means I am Craving. All of these pairings can be tweaked to fit in any world/scenario, and the gender identity of MC’s love interest is open to discussion.

All of these pairings are subject to change as cravings shift and flow. I will only cross out those I am no longer craving, but more will be added as they come to me.



Switch Pairings:
Con, Dub-Con, Non-Con

⁂ Priest Struggling With/Given Up On His Faith x Troubled Girl
Demon/Familiar x Witch
Assassin x Target -- willing to play either in this scenario.
Spy x Spy (Mr & Mrs Smith Style)
Girl with "reputation" x New Boy in town
Boy with "reputation" x New Girl in town
⁂ Wrongfully accused (or rightfully) felon x Business owner who gives them a second chance
⁂ Girl on the run from abusive ex-boyfriend x Stoic cowboy-type who takes her in
Crime lord x Undercover cop
Stranded big city business woman x Small town heartthrob
Star-crossed soulmates destined for heartbreak


Submissive Pairings:
Con, Dub-Con, Non-Con

Soldier x POW
Soldier x Village Girl
Soldier x Farmer’s Daughter
Fallen Angel x Sadistic Priest
Mortal x Demon
Demon/Familiar x Warlock
Stripper x Possessive Client/Club Owner


Domme Pairings:
Con, Dub-Con

Succubus x Mortal
Sex Club Owner x Patron
Sex Club Owner x Trainee

[Pink Zebra]

♥Original Plot Prompts♥

Hell’s Under New Management
(inspired by but not a fandom of Chilling Adventures of Sabrina on Netflix, please no canon characters or references to that show in play)

Lucifer is MIA. The upper echelon of Hell is in complete disorder. Their only hope? Lucifer’s only living progeny, a 21 year old girl - an infant in the eyes of immortals - who’s spent her childhood on Earth living among the humans. Raised by occultists in the Church of Night, she has known of her heritage since her Unholy Christening at 16, but never truly believed she would be called to the Throne. She has grown up going to public school, exposed to the world, and fancies herself a neutral, if not good person.

One evening she is visited by a demon, the first she has ever met in person, and s/he tells her it is time for her to rule over Hell. MC is in college, she has studies, friends, and a plan for her life. She is reluctant, but ultimately decides to attempt to balance the duties of Hell, and her existing life. If she neglects her birthright, she risks Hell breaking loose into the mortal plane, and that is something she just can't let happen.

How does our little Queen of Hell manage? Does she reform the process of Hell to suit her less-than-evil ideals, or does she begin to fall prey to the influence of the Dark Throne?

I would love to have the demon who summons her end up fulfilling a role of bodyguard. Perhaps s/he assumes a human form and attends college with MC, pretending to be a lover or relative when surrounded by the humans from MC’s mortal life? They would build a relationship of some sort, though your character's primary objective is to get mine to give up her mortal life and rule Hell as it has always been ruled. Whether s/he manipulates MC, actually falls for MC, or something adjacent or in-between, I am open.


When Worlds Collide
(meant to be something lighter, mostly romantic, with just enough drama to keep the train chugging along)

I am craving a modern urban supernatural fantasy type of story where I would play a human woman who is entirely unaware of magic and supernatural that surrounds her. She could be absolutely ordinary, or the descendent of an ancient forbidden love affair, but regardless of what is special or not about her, your supernatural character crosses paths with hers and both of their lives are changed forever.

I wish I had more specific ideas for this, but hopefully any potential partners can come help me narrow down this craving.


Worse Monsters


Inspired off this comic here, I want to play a young woman who has grown up with the monster under her bed as her guardian.

At the time that we would begin playing, she is a successful young woman in all aspects of her life, except for romantically. This is no fault of the monster, but rather, she seems to have little interest in anything long-term. Even the small amount of short relationships seem to hold no place of importance to her. Because of this, the monster has never felt threatened.

Then, along comes a man who starts to sweep my character off of her feet. She's in her thirties, she's successful, it's time. She starts to feel real feelings, spending more and more time with her new beau, and the monster realizes he's losing her.

He realizes he loves her.

I want to play a love triangle with you playing the monster and the new beau, but I am also willing to play the new beau if two characters are too much for you. I want my character to be surprised by the monster's romantic feelings, and have to face her own. Ultimately, the monster and my character would end up together, but I want the challenge of the third character that my girl will also have feelings for.

Some notes: the monster is humanoid even in its natural form, but can disguise itself as human at will. I am not interested in having my character fall in-love with a blob creature. However "evil" you want your character to be, I'm okay with it. I don't like the black and white concept of good v. evil, and would instead prefer that all of our characters have good and bad in them, it just depends on what piece of themselves they listen to.

[Pink Zebra]

♥Fandom Plot Prompts♥

Altered Carbon
I am not looking to play against a canon character, though I do not mind if liberties are taken and story lines are similar to that of the show. I do adore Joel Kinneman so I also won't mind you using him as a face claim if you would like. Also, considering the world, multiple faces may be used between the pair of us as we go along. I'm open to a variety of things I wouldn't normally be seeking for this story such as torture, maiming and death due to the ability for the character to be re-sleeved in either clones or new faces. If you have ideas/concepts/kinks that you think would fit in this fandom, I encourage you to bring it up even if it is normally in my No-List. Only hard No's I will stick to in this game are: watersports, scat, and incest between the main characters. Some incestual side-characters may exist (i.e. Meths who have lived so long they no longer feel anything is taboo) but I will not play incestual sex scenes out in detail.

Ⅰ. Someone very close to MC has been killed. A proper death, their stack was destroyed. She has been coached by everyone left in her life to let sleeping dogs lie but she can't. She needs to know who did it, and bring them to justice. She partners up with YC some way or another, and together they pick apart the clues of the case and discover a secret life, and ultimately, the murderer.

Pairings (my preference is bolded):
Meth x Cop / Journalist / Envoy*
Journalist x Cop / Envoy*
Body Hacker x Journalist
Body Hacker x Envoy*
Sex Worker x Cop / Journalist / Meth / Envoy*
*Open to this being Kovacs himself, but I would want this to be set after he assists Bancroft with Joel Kinneman as his face, at least to start.

Ⅱ. Someone very rich has anonymously hired MC to do some... not so legal work for them. She procures bodies, sends them to a drop point, leaves them there and walks away with a fuckton of credits. For someone who's grown up in the slums their whole life, it's not a bad or an unusual gig. Until one day one of the bodies returns to her, complete with a stack and pissed. 

In this story my character would be a Sex Worker, Body Hacker or a Dirty Cop. I imagined your character being a Meth, or mobster. They threaten her, maybe even kill and then upload her into a new body, and tell her if she doesn't help them figure out who keeps dropping them in different bodies for their own sick twisted games, they would ruin her life in some way. Take her to the cops, force her to die over and over again like they have, lock her in a trauma sim, or some other horrible thing that scares her shitless and gets her to agree to help.

Ⅲ. Any of your own ideas! If you're familiar with Altered Carbon (the TV show, I myself have not read the books) and enjoy a good Cyberpunk setting, then hit me up and lets see what we can come up with!

[Pink Zebra]

………… …………

Model: Halsey
Age Range: 20's
Setting: Modern, Dystopian, Surreal, Futuristic

………… …………

………… …………

Model: Sharon Alexie (insta: flammedepigalle)
Age Range: Mid-20's to Early-30's
Setting: Modern, Fantasy, Futuristic, Historical

………… …………

………… …………

Model: Adria Arjona
Age Range: Mid-20s to Mid-30's
Setting: Modern, Fantasy, Supernatural, Apocalyptic, Medieval

………… …………

………… …………  

Model: Tati Gabrielle
Age Range: Early 20's
Setting: Modern, Futuristic, Supernatural

………… …………

………… ………… 

Model: Iskra Lawrence
Age Range: 30's
Setting: Modern

………… …………

[Pink Zebra]

Bumping with new plot ideas.