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Fx Male γ€ takin' a chem break 】 π• π•£π•šπ•˜π•šπ•Ÿπ•’π• & π•—π•’π•Ÿπ••π• π•ž

freya.

𝕝'𝕒𝕑𝕑𝕖𝕝 𝕕𝕦 π•§π•šπ••π•–
Joined
Mar 10, 2023
Location
Canada
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  • freya / 30 / est

    17+ dominant / "bratty" / switch female characters

    300 - 1000+ words
    at least 4-8 replies per week
    third person only
    long term stories
    dark, nitty gritty themes
    mix of plot & smut
    flexible with pairings & plots
    threads or PMs for writing
    realistic face claims are preferred

    relaxed atmosphere / no pressure

    absolutely no off-site contact




  • none of my kinks are a REQUIREMENT, they're just things i'm interested in or willing to write.



    if they aren't up your alley, we don't have to include them.





    K I N K S
    non consensual β€’ non consensual turned consensual β€’ dirty talking β€’ tattoos & piercings β€’ extremely rough sex; hair pulling, choking, restraining, bruising, scarring, etc. β€’ exhibitionist scenarios / public sex β€’ power struggling between two dominant characters β€’ double penetration β€’ anal β€’ age play β€’ bondage β€’ cuckolding β€’ impact play β€’ interrogation play β€’ katoptronophilia β€’ masochism / sadism β€’ slasher killers β€’ cum play / worship β€’ leaving visible marks from biting, scratching, spanking, etc. even if temporary β€’ ball worship

    L I M I T S
    water sports / scat play β€’ bestiality β€’ gerontophilia β€’ bimbofication β€’ super submissive characters β€’ first person perspective β€’ discord role plays / ooc chatter

    P R E F E R E N C E S
    For the most part, I'm in love with dark themes of every kind; give me twisted plots and roles, unethical pairings, worlds that would give you nightmares in real life. I'll never shy away from gore or themes related. Abuse and pain go hand in hand for me, and I'm not one to bat an eyelash at things that come in tow with those themes, ether. Not to say that everything has to be nitty gritty, but I'm more of a fan of those kinds of settings and pairings than the average vanilla ones. Give me tattoos, piercings, horrid backstories, even more horrid plots, and I'll be wrapped around your finger for writing. Even if it's just a world of horror, like zombie infected apocalypses, I'm your gal.

    Lately I've been craving some messed up scenarios like cult activity, or demon-attached women, so something up that alley would be super fun to take on.

    F A C E  C L A I M S
    When it comes to our role play, please note that I'm not a huge fan of illustrated face claims, but I'll make exceptions for fantasy role plays; absolutely under no circumstances do I enjoy using anime pictures, however (just a personal preference.) If I have free reign, I enjoy more alternative face claims for my characters that have tattoos and piercings, and I'll usually go to sites like this one for my models. If none of those face claims interest you, or you're looking for something more specific, don't hesitate to let me know your interests and we can work something out that's more up to par with what you personally find attractive - this is, after all, supposed to be appealing for the both of us.


  • 【β™₯】 means craving

    O R I G I N A L
    β€’
    dad x daughter β–Ά plot idea
    β€’ assassin x assassin β–Ά plot idea
    β€’ serial killer x serial killer/cop/degenerate/victim
    β€’ prostitute/stripper x cop/client/childhood friend
    β€’ demon x human β–Ά plot idea
    β€’ human x vampire / werewolf / etc.
    β€’ hunter x demon / vampire / werewolf / etc.
    β€’ girl next door x new neighbor
    β€’ stalkee x stalker
    β€’ victim / turned accomplice x killer
    β€’ experiment x experiment 【β™₯】 plot idea
    β€’ cult victim / possessed degenerate x holy individual (priest, etc.) / cult member 【β™₯】 plot idea

    F A N D O M
    β€’
    dragon age 【β™₯】
    β€’ fallout 4 【β™₯】 plot idea
    β€’ mass effect
    β€’ red dead redemption
    β€’ the 100
    β€’ lord of the rings
    β€’ the witcher - books & games 【β™₯】
    β€’ supernatural
    β€’ dying light 1&2
    β€’ vikings
    β€’ elder scrolls - preferably skyrim era
    β€’ baldur's gate 3
    β€’ the walking dead 【β™₯】


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  • BRAIDED FATE - fantasy, assassin / assassin type pairing

    MC is an elf, or something along those lines, that had been taken in at a young age into a clan of thieves. When she became of age to go out on her own, she did; and the skill set she acquired while growing up made it easy for her to get what she wanted without working too hard for it. Until she crosses the wrong league. Instead of making an example of her, her skill set was put to the test, and then recruited for the promise of her life. This is where she's paired with your character, you can decide his race, weapons, etc. The only thing I'd like to keep set in stone is the fact that they don't get along when first thrown together for this arrangement. For whatever reason, your character was put into a similar predicament, where their services were being used in order to make up for something they committed, and only upon completing the assassination will our characters be free to live their lives accordingly.

    Due to the location of their targets, some high noble or powerful people, they have to travel and develop a facade of character to be believed. Whether that's pretending to be married or otherwise, we can hash out the details to. But their cover must remain solid tight, as the family they're going after has a long list of eyes and ears all throughout the land, and to appear disingenuous in front of even one of them would tip the entire journey off course.


    DEMONIC GUARDIAN - modern supernatural, demon / human pairing

    What happens when an angel falls from heaven? Most think they become fallen; a decrepit former shell of what they used to be. In reality, that angelic light is guided into a vessel capable of housing their power; usually a young child, if not a babe still forming in the womb of their mother. This child is then born, and raised as a human, unaware of their previous life or the gifts that they hold. Most fallen angels die as humans, never knowing the truth about themselves or the world around them. Not unless someone, or something, intervenes. Usually, those that intervened were sent by the heavens themselves, to watch over their fallen kin and keep them - and heavens secrets - safe. But what happens when heaven begins to revolt? When the balance between the good and evil are beginning to tip and blur; angels are taking matters into their own hands, doing as they see fit, rather than what's right. It opens several doors for demons to step into that guardian position, to manipulate and prod their way into these fallen angel's lives, and attempt to extract the information locked away.

    Our story could be focused on the demon and fallen angel, or any amount of pairings that might go within here; demon x demon, demon x angel, angel x fallen angel.. the possibilities are endless depending on what you felt more interested in.


    DARK PASSENGER - possessed delinquent / cult victim x priest / bystander

    This plot takes inspiration from a role play I had barely gotten off the ground - my first writing sample was my introduction post to said role play, and it's been stuck in my brain ever since writing it. Give it a read and consider if you'd be interested in something along those lines.

    For bullet points, it would involve a girl 17-25 in age, that's been through literal hell and back. She was a runaway from a young age, lived on the streets for quite a while doing anything she had to in order to get by.. until she took refugee in the wrong abandoned house just outside of town. A group of demon worshiping men found her when they arrived to commence a very common ritual, and took her in. For almost a year, they used her in every way they deemed fit, keeping her drugged up to keep her as compliant as possible whenever they had supply to do so. Between sexual rituals and just their own abusive pleasure, she was used to the point she was nothing but a husk of her former self.. the perfect vessel for one of the demons they constantly attempted to summon to make themselves right at home. The possession begins to take over her body, granting her inhuman abilities and strength that, especially under the influence of heavy narcotic and liquor, wouldn't be able to have. Eventually, the men realize what's going on, and come up with a plan to dump her in an attempt to rid themselves of their problem. Depending on YC is where she's dumped; if we go with the priest or something similar, she'd be dumped on his holy grounds. If YC is just some innocent bystander, they'd simply toss her out of their truck into the street to fend for herself, and YC can either witness the ordeal or stumble upon her himself, and decide to take her in.


    EXPERIMENT X EXPERIMENT - regenerative experiment / discarded experiment idea, modern or futuristic setting

    still hashing some things out for this, but it's Deadpool inspired; typical government facility doing human experiments, and a male solider or prisoner was opted in for live experiments. The experiment takes, and grants him intense inhuman abilities like regeneration, strength, anything else that tickles your fancy. An opposing group, made up of past experiments, mutants, or anarchist / anti-government members catch wind of the testing, and make it a point to infiltrate the facility. Once their member confirms the experiment works, they break the experiment out of there with the promise of money, freedom, whatever will speak to the individual - but in the end, they're not doing it out of the kindness of their heart. They need the experimented individual for selfish reasons, like to fight against the government, etc., and find a way to either persuade or blackmail them into cooperation.


  • TBA - to be announced.

  • FALLOUT 4 - oc x oc

    My current craving for the Fallout 4 universe is honestly a little out there; I'd love to do something with an OC of your choice, paired up with a mutating OC I made a while ago. She's on her way to becoming a ghoul, but nothing too severe yet. She has some radiation burns and scars, but for the most part, she still looks relatively normal in comparison to our friend Hancock and other ghouls like him. She lives closer to the Glowing Sea than most do, and both of her parents were ghouls before they were killed, essentially giving her more likelihood of adapting to the radiation than other survivors.

    The general idea I had was your character would be apart of a caravan; either the trader themselves, maybe a hired mercenary to keep it safe, something along those lines. Either way, YC ends up being attacked on the road, and it's close enough to the Glowing Sea that it's a dire situation they be left for too long without proper protection. MC happens to be in the area, maybe coming home from a supply run themselves, and takes pity on the remaining survivor of the caravan run (obviously YC), and brings them back to her bunker. The only catch is that she doesn't need radiation gear to survive the trek, and all of YC's has been damaged enough to render it useless until either repaired or replaced. The bunker she lives in is well enough protected from the radiation, but YC is stuck there until she's convinced to repair or replace yours, which will take some convincing, considering she doesn't tend to stick her neck out too much for anyone anymore.

    We can throw in some underlying plot points, like YC's got some baggage with some important people they had to get back into town in order to deal with, but because of the attack and their predicament, weren't able to show up for their obligations. Which could set off a chain of events that drags MC in with them, and she becomes another target now strewn along for the ride. This plot is very, very flexible.



π•¨π•£π•šπ•₯π•šπ•Ÿπ•˜ π•€π•’π•žπ•‘π•π•– πŸ™​

"We don't give a fuck, bitch, you're not staying here."

"She was supposed to be fun, not a fucking mess."

"Used and dried up; get her the fuck out of here before she becomes a bigger problem on our hands.. is she even alive?"


Antonia's eyes were barely open, her body aching and shivering all over. The pulse she had was low, but it was there.. faintly telling the men busy loading her lifeless body up into the back of their truck that she was, in fact, still with them. Even if it was just barely.

"Go, get her gone. Make sure that fuckin' thing goes with her, too."

The truck's bed was slammed closed, causing a flinch to overtake her naked body, slightly bringing the seventeen year old back to her senses. All she could see was a black blanket above her in the sky, rain clouds forming quickly over their area, blotting out any chance of seeing the stars above them. The moon wasn't even visible tonight, casting her pale skin into a pit of darkness in the back of the rusting and dirty bed. Two more shifts in the truck had the girl's body stirring, either door slamming shut to allow two men inside the front cab. With a roar, the engine started, and Toni's body slightly lurched with the rough take off, barely hearing the tires as they screeched to a fast start.

Over the duration of the drive, Antonia had no idea where they were going; she faded in and out of consciousness, unable to find the strength to even pull her left arm from being pinned underneath her tattooed and frail body. At times, the nipping air would cause her to stir, bringing her senses to a shocking head; the pounding she felt within her head was splitting, and her body felt as though a million needles were consistently prickling every inch of her body.

A cold downpour had started, washing over her bare skin, but it wasn't enough to clean the dirt and other substances that lined her body. Unfortunately, even before the rain, she'd been shivering uncontrollably. The heroin withdrawals were almost over, something Toni had been forced through, rather than opted for - they weren't going to waste their supply on her after they got what they needed. What they thought they needed, at least.

The cultists had been naive, thinking they could harness a demonic force within a vessel. And that vessel had been Toni, a teenager that was slumming it between shelters and the street at the time, already addicted to heroin. That had been their niche to get her into their 'hideout', an abandoned farmhouse on the outskirts of town, and they'd continued to feed her her drug of choice until they'd made a connection with a Jezebel demon. Once they got their wish, their drugged up sex vessel wasn't fun anymore. Antonia, on more than one occasion, had gone into demonic fits of anger while the older men had used her as they pleased, coming close to severely maiming the leader of the small posse - she'd been sucking his tongue while she rode him wildly in the circle of their cult, and then proceeded to pin his arms down with her knees and attempt to bite it out.

When trying to ween the drug from her system didn't settle the impulses for blood, the decision had unanimously been decided that she needed to go. They had no fear of being sought out, due to her track record. No one was going to believe a junkie that had been prostituting herself off well before she should've been if she remembered anything about her time with them, and she didn't know any of their names.

"Grab her, I wanna get this shit over with. Fuckin' whore almost bit my dick off last night."

"That was your dumbass move; her tight little pussy didn't have any teeth."


Voices came into earshot once more after the truck had come to an abrupt halt, and the door to the truck bed squeaked open soon afterward. Either of the men grabbed a leg to slide her roughly out, until they could reach each of her arms. With her arms draped over either of their shoulders, they dragged her feet the entire way towards the older looking residence building of the Church property. When they reached the door, they were quick to toss her down into the door, wanting to get her literally off their hands as soon as possible. The seventeen year old's bruised and battered body hit the door frame, forcing a shocked hiss of pain. It was enough to bring her to, and she growled at the men as she stared at them from where she now lay against the door, soaked and helpless. This wasn't any demonic force growling, either; it had been Antonia's own voice, brought forth by her own anger.

Three large pounds can crashing against the closed door, and the men quickly backed off, slinking back towards the still-running truck. They knew the blood relation of their play thing and the priest who resided there, and of the man's weary past. There was no way he'd be going to the authorities, either. Just as quick as they came, they were gone, tires screeching once more as they ripped away from the body dump.

π•¨π•£π•šπ•₯π•šπ•Ÿπ•˜ π•€π•’π•žπ•‘π•π•– 𝟚​

Of all places to be meeting her 'estranged husband', Revan couldn't believe her eyes when she finally arrived at the designated contractual location. The tavern, a dank and musky building called Windfall, was packed with patrons already getting a head start on the nights festivities and celebrating. It made for a very noticeable entrance, even with the cloak that hugged the elf's frame, and hid her features beneath its hood. The young woman pushed past the eyes she felt sink her way and stepped in from the crisping air of the setting sun, paying no one any particular mind on the outside. On the inside, her grey eyes were scouring the faces of the people she could indulge with her sight, seeking their body language to tell her their underlining motives. From the look of things, most were just curious about the newcomer, and couldn't care beyond that to give her another glance, returning to their mugs of ale and conversations.

So far, so good. No sign of anyone leering in the shadows, ready to keep tabs on her movements, but that could change in a moment's notice. This was going to become a silent argument with herself now, no matter where her feet carried her; who to trust, and who to deal with. Snakes were easily disguised in tall grass, and it felt like Revan was wading in nothing but an endless sea of the unknown. It was a completely foreign feeling to her usual contracts or daily activities; normally the elf wouldn't have been caught so easily out in the open, no matter how many witnesses were gathered. The blond woman always worked better from the shadows, and that's where her comfort zone resided.. not in lightly coloured adventure gear, without her main weapons for reassurance. The bow that was usually strapped to the woman's back had been replaced by a silver sword, one she was familiar with, but usually only saved for when she couldn't discreetly dispatch a target. In fact, the only piece of attire she was currently wearing that resembled her usual outfit was the cloak that still hugged her from being fully seen by wandering eyes.

Easing into the bustle of tables, the rogue found one near the back of the main hall, slightly shrouded from the cast off of the fireplace not too far away. As she made herself comfortable, stripping her cloak from her back, and got seated, a slender human made her way towards the table. With a weary smile, the clearly young girl cleared her throat to get Revan's attention, flattening her apron a little nervously. "What can we get you, miss? We still 'ave a couple beds, a few hot meals, and the town's brewery at our disposal." The barmaiden waited patiently for a response, taking the elf in before her; eyes wandered over the dreadlocks fastened upon her head that had been pulled back from her face, and then left to continue to drape down her back, to the tattoos or markings that were etched over her pale skin. Revan ignored the way this woman was seemingly lapping up her appearance, and eased back in her chair, lifting her boots to the table's surface to recline comfortably. "A room, and for now? Ale." Withdrawing her coin purse, the blond eased the appropriate payment towards the barmaiden on the table, and then allowed her to tend to the elf's request.

Only it wasn't the same woman to return with the requested drink. Instead of it being the dusky brunette that had a slightly timid air about her, a stocky man approached her table rather abrasively - or perhaps he thought it was confidence? At first, Revan almost questioned if this was the man she was to be meeting, but after giving him a once over, she knew there was no way; the oaf approaching her was too clumsy, his footwork was genuine and probably a cause of repetitive drinking. He wouldn't last a minute fighting a babe, let alone someone of her skill and sobriety. "There was a problem wit' your drink, sweetheart," he mused as he reached the table side carrying two mugs, right beside where her legs had been comfortably propped up. "Problem to drink alone." A cocky smirk cracked over his lips, thinking his little line was going to get him anywhere other than an airy scoff and an annoyed response.

"I'm not going to be alone." The elf plainly responded, her tone flat. To anyone with a brain cell, it would've been clear she wasn't interested. He glanced around, making it obvious she was, in fact, alone. Easing both of the mugs onto the table's surface, it freed up his left hand to take hold of her right ankle, his fingers already kneading into the leather boot that covered her foot to her shin. "Not now, no.. pretty girls like you shouldn't be alone." What happened next wasn't even a thought for rogue, it was all instinct. Kicking her right foot from his grasp, she rammed the heel of her boot into the mug he'd settled on the surface of the table, and sent it flying into his groin. Immediately, there was a gasp of air that withdrew from his lips, and he hunched down with a groan of rage and pain. By the time his head was back up, eyes glaring and focused on the woman across from him, she'd re-positioned her legs from being accessible to him, tucking them under her in case she had to stand quickly. Without a pause, the second mug he'd brought to the table was lifted and sipped from, adding some insult to injury with the gulp.

"You fuckin' knife ear!" The oaf's mood instantly changed from being over confident and promiscuous to enraged, and the growing audience they had circling their table was just fueling his anger even further. To have a woman, such a nameless woman at that, make such a fool out of him in front of people he saw on a regular basis? Those hands that had been a little too free-roaming now clenched the side of the round table, and cast it aside as though it were a leaf, erupting a small shriek from the table of patrons he'd sent it flying into.



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☠ UPDATED
thank you so much, cat, for the wonderful template.
back-ish from my hiatus, looking for a few stories.
 

☠ ☠ ☠
if pain is beauty i'm a guillotine
 

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i swear to god, i'm over moving trash and living toxic
updated some things, added a half-assed plot. looking for a few stories.
 

☠ ☠ ☠
one way to hell if the gate is locked
updated how things looked, made room for more plots. still looking for a few stories.
 

☠ ☠ ☠
i'm comin' straight from hell with love
thanks so much to Khira for helping me make my thread easier to navigate β™₯
still looking for a few stories.

 

☠ ☠ ☠
fuck loving god, i wanna fear one
still looking for a few stories.
 

☠ ☠ ☠
we are two different breeds of broken
still looking for a few stories.
 
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