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JuneBuggy
Word slinger
- Joined
- Jun 28, 2019
- Location
- The Yeehaw State, USA
As evidenced by the fact that this has changed thrice this week, I
Welcome to my RT.
About Me:
-Female, mid-twenties, who loves anime and romantic stories.
-Replies at least 1x a day, more right now.
-Ghost friendly: Want out? PM me this emoji
please! Helps me know I can get another story.-3rd person, adv. lit - novella; but posts go from 300-1000+ words, depending on partner
-Please no PMs unrelated to RPs, or flirting. Friendly OOC chatter welcome, though!
Preferences:
-No Discord, PMs preferred
-Digital Art/Drawn Images or Descriptions; no realistic face claims, please
-No fandoms, but we can use books/manga/games/etc. loosely for inspiration
-Plot > Smut. Won't give a %, I just prefer it happen 'naturally', based on the context of the story.
-Decent grammar appreciated; an error or two is fine, but if you aren't the type to care much
about their presence, we might not work well as partners.
Kinks:
I'm not yet aware of all kinks that exist, so anything not listed as a no should be considered a maybe.
Yes: Pregnancy/Risk of, Possessiveness, Breeding, Clothed sex, Fluff, Darker themes,
Dub-con/Non-con, Biting, Licking, Hair pulling, Dirty talk, Sex in different places,
'Hidden' sex (i.e. near others, risk of getting caught), Vampires,
Conflict, size differences (larger male x smaller female), age differences (19+ as youngest;
if you are wanting to play a younger male...we'll need to talk first. Those don't typically
go well for me, so I'm wary of them.)
No: Anatomically incorrect/exaggerated body parts, abuse (between YC and MC),
degradation/humiliation (to MC), bimbos,
unintelligent characters, unattractive characters, bathroom play, gore (sexual),
vore, forced oral, non-humanoid characters/monsters*
*Would prefer they look as human as possible and attractive in a generic sense,
which can include anthros, but ‘creatures’ are not my thing; this - yes, vs. this - no thank you.
Dub-con/Non-con, Biting, Licking, Hair pulling, Dirty talk, Sex in different places,
'Hidden' sex (i.e. near others, risk of getting caught), Vampires,
Conflict, size differences (larger male x smaller female), age differences (19+ as youngest;
if you are wanting to play a younger male...we'll need to talk first. Those don't typically
go well for me, so I'm wary of them.)
No: Anatomically incorrect/exaggerated body parts, abuse (between YC and MC),
degradation/humiliation (to MC), bimbos,
unintelligent characters, unattractive characters, bathroom play, gore (sexual),
vore, forced oral, non-humanoid characters/monsters*
*Would prefer they look as human as possible and attractive in a generic sense,
which can include anthros, but ‘creatures’ are not my thing; this - yes, vs. this - no thank you.
If all of that is fine with you, we'll move onto the plots/ideas!
Plots/Pairings
I'm always open to hearing any ideas you might have, although there are some
things that are most likely to grab my attention:
1. Fantasy and/or Historical settings > Modern
2. Vampires (me against one)
3. Romance, Drama & Intrigue
If it's crossed out, I already have one (or more) and am seeking something different.
Feel free to suggest any changes/additions! Most are shortened versions of a longer concept, and I am happy to give more details
for ones that pique your interest. Just wanted to keep these brief here.
-
Plots
-
Pairings
Writing Sample:
***Warning: It is long. Don't let it scare you off, as I'm happy to do a little less,
but this is also what I'm capable of going up to and/or above.
Days.
That was how long Willow had been sat at her desk, poring over parchment after parchment, and text after text. The desk itself was nothing more than an extension of her many bookshelves, and was currently topped with endless stacks of books. Some were still open, left on pages she had reached before deciding the book as a whole was of no more use to her. And then she had found the next. Some had pages with corners that were folded, as she had reserved those pages to return later. But she never had, and they would likely remain that way permanently. The texts themselves covered all manner of things: languages and cultures, ‘hidden secrets’ and everything else an individual obsessed with the pursuit of knowledge might want to know. Willow knew how to find the rare buffalo of the Plains of Theca, the ones that could only be seen in the few moments between the sunrise and sunset, whose forms seemed only visible in the waning light of day. She knew how to address the chief of one of the many wandering elf clans - of each, really. And she knew where to find the sweetest fruits, which lands grew the biggest crops. Willow had more knowledge than she had space to contain it, and still it was not enough.
That was, until she had decided to peruse less reliable texts. Up to that moment, she had chosen to stick to only books and papers that referenced proven things. Lands that truly existed, secrets that weren’t borne of whispers over centuries, but rather texts written by ancient scribes who had proof of their validity. But Willow had burned through them all, at least, all of the ones she’d been able to get her hands on. And that was a good many.
But her pursuit of knowledge had now led her elsewhere. To fairy tales and legends and myths. And though she could find no evidence to suggest most, if any, were worth her time, there was one that stood out among the rest. For starters, the location it referenced was easily recognizable, and she knew how to find it. Oclo Jungle was not some supposed oasis in the middle of a desert no soul could truly hope to cross alive. It wasn’t a rumor or a mystery; it was a real jungle only a few days’ trip away. And that was the first green flag Willow found.
“Hypnosis…” Her voice was a soft whisper, nearly lost in the howling of the wind outside. Pearly-whites sank into a soft, pink lower lip as she skimmed over the text. It was midday, and the sun was still hung high in the air. A strong wind tugged and pushed the trees and made the orange and yellow leaves dance and flutter to the ground. They formed piles the children would play in, and the people would burn to cook their meals over at night. The Kingdom of Navarre was where she had made her home, as it was in a nice, central position with regards to the places she could explore. There were resources, horses and maps and other things any experienced traveler would find necessary. And she had found a small hut she could call her own, and promptly fill to the brim with every text and book she had collected in her travels. It was often said that her home would make a great pyre if they ever had another famine or plague. It would burn well with all of the paper within.
She hadn’t found their jokes as humorous as they had.
One hand rose to comb through long, golden hair that was so bright, it could blind others in the sun. It fell in soft waves over the Huntress’ shoulders and back. She wore a simple white tunic with a v-neck cut in the front, giving some view of her bust. Due to the increasing heat of the season, she had chosen to cut it across her stomach, letting it free to avoid overheating. Paired with a brown skirt and sandals, she was both comfortable and cool. Warm brown eyes fell on the words written on the old, browning parchment that were barely legible. But she had encountered all manners of penmanship, and was confident she could read any now.
The text was intriguing. It spoke of the experiences of villagers traversing the Oclo Jungle at night. An unwise thing to do, she thought to herself, but she read on. They spoke of the horrors they saw, but were never truly there. Visions and nightmares that existed only within their minds. The stuff of fairy tales, simply put. But there was something more to it. Because she could very clearly recall having read something similar in another text of hers - a brief tale by a supposed survivor of the Oclo Jungle. It hadn’t made sense then - sure, the jungle could be rough. But expeditions had gone there and safely returned, so it wasn’t entirely necessary to consider oneself a ‘survivor’ simply for visiting. The legs of the wooden chair scraped against the clay floor of her home, and made a loud, jarring sound. The same sound she’d heard before, and had promised herself she’d not hear again.
There was always next time.
Her skirt swayed to and fro as she approached her bookshelf, thumbing over the texts before stopping on one. She slid it out, flipping it open and to a particular page that had been preserved with a folded edge at the top right corner. One finger pressed to the page and lowered as she scanned it and whispered quietly to herself. And then she found it - the ‘Brief Retelling of a Mage’s Travels’. It had been another mage that had shared his experience, in fact. That was enough to solidify it in her mind as worthy of investigation.
It hadn’t taken her long to prepare for her journey. She found a means of travel, packed a bag with essentials - dried meats, a canteen, her books, a dagger, and some other less notable items. After securing her hut as much as she could, she was soon off. Traveling alone was obviously discouraged; when she had mentioned to the farmer who’d offered to take her to the next town where she intended to go, he nearly refused to take her. But she could talk her way out of trouble - occasionally, and had eventually managed to convince him she would be fine.
By lying.
She wasn’t proud of it, but there was absolutely no coming between her and the mysteries she sought to unravel. The journey was brief; she rode with him to the next town over, where she would meet a caravan headed near Oclo Jungle. They too had questions as to where the young Huntress was headed. And again, she was forced to come up with a story they would find appeasing. This time she was meeting family in the countryside. That seemed to do the trick.
The Caravan was noisy. A few rows of carriages and horse-drawn carts full of drunk and rowdy elves and humans headed to the Harvest Festival were her company for the next three nights.
Night one she shared a tent with a young elf who talked in her sleep. She chanted spells that made the grass burn.
Night two she switched to stay with the elder woman of the group. She commented on Willow’s attire and declared her a trollop.
Night three Willow slept alone under a tree. And it was blissfully quiet. Especially with cotton stuffed in her ears.
When they finally reached the next Kingdom, Willow could hardly stomach to hear the group’s voices any longer. But she was able to overcome her irritation with the excitement of knowing she had nearly made it. The latter part of her trip involved taking a horse through the forests that eventually led into Oclo Jungle. It was dark now, and the sounds of various creatures waking and seeking out their dinners kept her on high alert. The clopping of her horse’s hooves in the damp dirt signaled her presence, and was undesirable, but faster than walking on foot. A gentle breeze tousled her hair; it was good that she had come at night. Although there was alwasys the next day to be wary of. She pulled gently on the reins to bring her mount to a stop, unfurling her map to compare it to where she was. She had taken the exact path shown, which meant the ruins should be…close. Exhaling deeply, she glanced down at her horse. He was a mottled black and white with long eyelashes she found rather cute. He huffed and she replied.
“I know, I know. I’ll get you water soon eno-” She paused. Something had dripped onto her shoulder. Glancing over with furrowed brows, she saw something white and sticky. Some sort of…sap? “What is this?” She muttered, her eyes raising to the treetops. It was then that she saw them, a few naga curled up to sleep. Her brows raised; she’d never seen any before. It was a shame she didn’t have any sketchbooks. Before she could consider how to capture the moment, she was startled by her mount as it decided to give a loud and entirely uncalled for whinny that just might wake the entire jungle.
“Artemis!” She whispered in a hushed voice, but it might have been too late. She could hear shifting above herself, leaves crunching. Her breath caught.
That was how long Willow had been sat at her desk, poring over parchment after parchment, and text after text. The desk itself was nothing more than an extension of her many bookshelves, and was currently topped with endless stacks of books. Some were still open, left on pages she had reached before deciding the book as a whole was of no more use to her. And then she had found the next. Some had pages with corners that were folded, as she had reserved those pages to return later. But she never had, and they would likely remain that way permanently. The texts themselves covered all manner of things: languages and cultures, ‘hidden secrets’ and everything else an individual obsessed with the pursuit of knowledge might want to know. Willow knew how to find the rare buffalo of the Plains of Theca, the ones that could only be seen in the few moments between the sunrise and sunset, whose forms seemed only visible in the waning light of day. She knew how to address the chief of one of the many wandering elf clans - of each, really. And she knew where to find the sweetest fruits, which lands grew the biggest crops. Willow had more knowledge than she had space to contain it, and still it was not enough.
That was, until she had decided to peruse less reliable texts. Up to that moment, she had chosen to stick to only books and papers that referenced proven things. Lands that truly existed, secrets that weren’t borne of whispers over centuries, but rather texts written by ancient scribes who had proof of their validity. But Willow had burned through them all, at least, all of the ones she’d been able to get her hands on. And that was a good many.
But her pursuit of knowledge had now led her elsewhere. To fairy tales and legends and myths. And though she could find no evidence to suggest most, if any, were worth her time, there was one that stood out among the rest. For starters, the location it referenced was easily recognizable, and she knew how to find it. Oclo Jungle was not some supposed oasis in the middle of a desert no soul could truly hope to cross alive. It wasn’t a rumor or a mystery; it was a real jungle only a few days’ trip away. And that was the first green flag Willow found.
“Hypnosis…” Her voice was a soft whisper, nearly lost in the howling of the wind outside. Pearly-whites sank into a soft, pink lower lip as she skimmed over the text. It was midday, and the sun was still hung high in the air. A strong wind tugged and pushed the trees and made the orange and yellow leaves dance and flutter to the ground. They formed piles the children would play in, and the people would burn to cook their meals over at night. The Kingdom of Navarre was where she had made her home, as it was in a nice, central position with regards to the places she could explore. There were resources, horses and maps and other things any experienced traveler would find necessary. And she had found a small hut she could call her own, and promptly fill to the brim with every text and book she had collected in her travels. It was often said that her home would make a great pyre if they ever had another famine or plague. It would burn well with all of the paper within.
She hadn’t found their jokes as humorous as they had.
One hand rose to comb through long, golden hair that was so bright, it could blind others in the sun. It fell in soft waves over the Huntress’ shoulders and back. She wore a simple white tunic with a v-neck cut in the front, giving some view of her bust. Due to the increasing heat of the season, she had chosen to cut it across her stomach, letting it free to avoid overheating. Paired with a brown skirt and sandals, she was both comfortable and cool. Warm brown eyes fell on the words written on the old, browning parchment that were barely legible. But she had encountered all manners of penmanship, and was confident she could read any now.
The text was intriguing. It spoke of the experiences of villagers traversing the Oclo Jungle at night. An unwise thing to do, she thought to herself, but she read on. They spoke of the horrors they saw, but were never truly there. Visions and nightmares that existed only within their minds. The stuff of fairy tales, simply put. But there was something more to it. Because she could very clearly recall having read something similar in another text of hers - a brief tale by a supposed survivor of the Oclo Jungle. It hadn’t made sense then - sure, the jungle could be rough. But expeditions had gone there and safely returned, so it wasn’t entirely necessary to consider oneself a ‘survivor’ simply for visiting. The legs of the wooden chair scraped against the clay floor of her home, and made a loud, jarring sound. The same sound she’d heard before, and had promised herself she’d not hear again.
There was always next time.
Her skirt swayed to and fro as she approached her bookshelf, thumbing over the texts before stopping on one. She slid it out, flipping it open and to a particular page that had been preserved with a folded edge at the top right corner. One finger pressed to the page and lowered as she scanned it and whispered quietly to herself. And then she found it - the ‘Brief Retelling of a Mage’s Travels’. It had been another mage that had shared his experience, in fact. That was enough to solidify it in her mind as worthy of investigation.
It hadn’t taken her long to prepare for her journey. She found a means of travel, packed a bag with essentials - dried meats, a canteen, her books, a dagger, and some other less notable items. After securing her hut as much as she could, she was soon off. Traveling alone was obviously discouraged; when she had mentioned to the farmer who’d offered to take her to the next town where she intended to go, he nearly refused to take her. But she could talk her way out of trouble - occasionally, and had eventually managed to convince him she would be fine.
By lying.
She wasn’t proud of it, but there was absolutely no coming between her and the mysteries she sought to unravel. The journey was brief; she rode with him to the next town over, where she would meet a caravan headed near Oclo Jungle. They too had questions as to where the young Huntress was headed. And again, she was forced to come up with a story they would find appeasing. This time she was meeting family in the countryside. That seemed to do the trick.
The Caravan was noisy. A few rows of carriages and horse-drawn carts full of drunk and rowdy elves and humans headed to the Harvest Festival were her company for the next three nights.
Night one she shared a tent with a young elf who talked in her sleep. She chanted spells that made the grass burn.
Night two she switched to stay with the elder woman of the group. She commented on Willow’s attire and declared her a trollop.
Night three Willow slept alone under a tree. And it was blissfully quiet. Especially with cotton stuffed in her ears.
When they finally reached the next Kingdom, Willow could hardly stomach to hear the group’s voices any longer. But she was able to overcome her irritation with the excitement of knowing she had nearly made it. The latter part of her trip involved taking a horse through the forests that eventually led into Oclo Jungle. It was dark now, and the sounds of various creatures waking and seeking out their dinners kept her on high alert. The clopping of her horse’s hooves in the damp dirt signaled her presence, and was undesirable, but faster than walking on foot. A gentle breeze tousled her hair; it was good that she had come at night. Although there was alwasys the next day to be wary of. She pulled gently on the reins to bring her mount to a stop, unfurling her map to compare it to where she was. She had taken the exact path shown, which meant the ruins should be…close. Exhaling deeply, she glanced down at her horse. He was a mottled black and white with long eyelashes she found rather cute. He huffed and she replied.
“I know, I know. I’ll get you water soon eno-” She paused. Something had dripped onto her shoulder. Glancing over with furrowed brows, she saw something white and sticky. Some sort of…sap? “What is this?” She muttered, her eyes raising to the treetops. It was then that she saw them, a few naga curled up to sleep. Her brows raised; she’d never seen any before. It was a shame she didn’t have any sketchbooks. Before she could consider how to capture the moment, she was startled by her mount as it decided to give a loud and entirely uncalled for whinny that just might wake the entire jungle.
“Artemis!” She whispered in a hushed voice, but it might have been too late. She could hear shifting above herself, leaves crunching. Her breath caught.
That's all for now! If you're interested, please send me a PM. I do like to check RT's and
find any writing of yours. If you don't have anything in the threads, a quick
acknowledgement of your writing style is helpful.
Happy writing!
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