SUNNY DAYS

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

introduction ᐟᐟ

alias ::

present

rue

sol

literally anything as long as you aren't a jerk abt it LMAO

pronouns ::

they / he / she

age ::

nineteen

platforms ::

tumblr

discord; i will send it after some discussion in private messages through here

literacy ::

literate - novella.

i can comfortably write 2000 - 4000 characters as a minimum, and have written more than 10K characters in one response before

pairings ::

oc x oc

bxb / mxm

nb x m / ftm x m / ftm x ftm

fandoms ::

A:TLA

TDLSK

HXH

OPM

MP100

KUROKO'S BASKETBALL

HAIKYUU

SK8

MCU

DC

JJK

D:BH

SHERLOCK (BBC)

ARCANE

KPOP DEMON HUNTERS

many more, most likely (and also specifics within certain fandom)

i am not very interested in cc x oc or cc x cc unless i am obsessed with the pairing (cough cough superbat or superlex cough), however i do like to base characters or plots on a certain universe or idea.

interested genres / tropes ::

romance / fluff; city-based, celebrity x fan, forbidden lovers, enemies to lovers, friends to enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake dating, etc.

drama / angst; toxic relationships, stalking, rivalry, rehab, family drama, betrayal, addiction, unrequited love, failed dreams, familial issues, etc.

modern; slice of life, office romance, single parent, college, cafe, neighbors, sibling's friend, online dating, etc.

supernatural; werewolves, vampires, magic, superpowers, superheroes / villains, power-based society, hidden powers, reincarnation, alternate universe, time travel, blessed / cursed bloodline, etc.

horror / thriller; blood, death, psychological, toxic relationships, gaslighting, murder, etc.

smut; we can talk kinks and whatnot in private, but i am open to everything except feet, poop / vomit, and oviposition.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

roleplay rules ᐟᐟ

expectations ::

you must be 18 or older.

due to comfort reasons, and because i reckon many people will be looking for smut, i will not allow anyone under the age of 18 to roleplay with me. there is no max age, but i would prefer to stay close in range with those i get in contact with.

you must have a literacy of literate or higher

will length isn't everything i have learned, you must be able to write at least 2000 characters minimum per reply. the more detail, the more i find myself interested. i am no poet, and i am not here to judge the way you write or anything; i would just like to receive the same effort from you that i put in to it.

on that note, we should be able to follow basic writing ettiquette. quotations for dialogue, paragraphs instead of walls of text, decent grammar, all of the goods. i will not nitpick on how you write, but if it is difficult for me to understand, it will be difficult for me to stay interested.

please have oc and such prepared for me to look at

while it is not a must, i would like to have some sort of information of your oc to read through, as it helps me give suggestions for the plot. it doesn't have to be extremely detailed, as long as it has the basics. i would like to have a visual faceclaim as well, preferably drawn, but a written description works fine as well. i am not entirely fond of celebrity / kpop faceclaims (it feels a bit fetishy to me in a way i don't like) but i am prone to making exceptions.

please have patience with me

sometimes i can get replies out instantly. other times, it may take a week or two. i will do my best to keep in communication, but i ask that you are patient with my fluctating schedule, and i will do the same for you. i am okay with occasional check ins every few days / a week, but do not spam me. if you do, i will most likely end up losing interest in roleplaying with you.

please work with me when making the plot

i love brainstorming the plot and sharing ideas. however, i quickly lose that passion when you do not provide your own feedback and ideas. i should not be doing all of the heavylifting. this is a part of the process we should both be participating in equally. i want more than a "ok sound good." please provide your creativity and interests, i am more than willing to hear you out! (also, i am a sucker for a good plot twist. if it doesnt go against my discomforts or rules, feel free to surprise me with an idea in the roleplay!!)

same is said if you are uninterested in what i suggest, or in the plot anymore. if you don't like something, tell me! i'm not a mind reader! i am more than willing to change things up or start anew if that's what's needed :)

discomforts / discouraged ::

AI in any way, shape, or form.

do not use AI to write for you. absolutely do NOT use AI images for faceclaims or any sort of reference. i do not want to see any type of AI in our exchanges, and i will immediately cut our conversation short if i see it.

platonic / sibling roleplays

i am not interested in platonic roleplays, seeing as i will require romance as a subplot within any roleplay i do. i find it boring, and you cannot change my mind on this. i don't mind platonic / familial relationships for background characters, though.

furries

unless it is werewolves, nekos (i suppose), or like... dragon half breeds, i will not be interested in furry ocs, and will not accept them.

feet, poop, vomit, oviposition

i do not want to see these mentioned within a sexual light, as i am not comfortable with it at all. i am okay with characters puking, but not while being intimate, and feet is like... okay, i guess, when it isn't a sexual thing. poop shouldn't be mentioned at all LOL. i am okay with mpreg and pregnancy, but oviposition is where i draw the line

rape, sexual harrassment, pedophilia, incest

absolutely not. it can be within background stories or briefly mentioned, but i will not roleplay them, end of discussion.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

characters' synopsis ᐟᐟ

all google docs are copy / pasted from amino and are in rough shape (in terms of appearance). i will possibly get around to cleaning them up.

on that note, ocs will be added as i create them, and i will fill in synopsis' very soon. i just want to post this asap.

desmond

twenty-eight ~ he/him ~ 1/11 ~ bisexual

he is a man who knows little about himself, and more about the narrative made about him. taken from his biological parents as a child, he is taken care of by a woman, who he addresses as his Domina, who has taken care of him in an unconventional manner. under her care, he has discovered and honed his ability that comes from consuming blood, and now holds a bloodlust for those his Domina assigns him to. when consuming after a fresh kill, he is potently given certain aspects of the formerly living being - characteristics, styles of speech, talents and capabilities - as if they were his in the first place. depending on the freshness and how much was consumed, it will eventually wear off and leave side effects in its wake.

due to this, desmond is a very unstable, unhindged individual. with undiagnosed and relatively untreated bpd, as well as other emotional / personality disorders, he can go from manic to violent within seconds. typically, he floats along the naive high of following his Domina's orders, enjoying any chance outside he can get. he can ramble on about nothing for minutes straight, and finds pleasure in pissing people off. deep down, he longs for the freedom and adventure he can only experience through television; however, he could never do anything to go against his Domina's wishes.

desmond's google doc.

inigo c.k. escarra

thirty-three ~ he/him ~ 3/20 ~ bisexual

wip

inigo's google doc.

alternative universe; cowboy.

charlotte p. austen

twenty-eight ~ she/her ~ 12/19 ~ bisexual

wip

charlotte's google doc.

stellan e. blythe

twenty-four ~ he/him ~ 6/9 ~ homo in denial

wip

stellan's google doc.

möe m. mckenna

twenty-eight ~ he/they ~ 11/6 ~ aroace

wip.

möe's google doc.

īsadore a. floquet

twenty-seven ~ he/him ~ 6/11 ~ homosexual

wip

īsadore's google doc.

florian é. floquet

twenty-six ~ he/him ~ 6/11 ~ pansexual

wip

florian's google doc.

lysanther c. reed

twenty-nine ~ he/him ~ 8/20 ~ bisexual

wip.

lysanther's google doc.

alternative universe; vigilante.

timothy c. wilder

twenty-six ~ they/he ~ 3/30 ~ pansexual / demi-panromantic + polyamorous

wip.

timothy's google doc.

zachary i. stanfield

twenty-nine ~ he/him ~ 7/15 ~ pansexual

wip.

[though, to make apparent, he is basically a robot, but with flesh and most organs similar to a human. heavily inspired from superman.]

zachary's google doc.

writing examples coming soon !! ( っ´ `)っ

-

Allowing their farewells to be brief, the PT shortly reassured Lucian he hadn't been uncomfortable—there were many words that he could use to label this past hour, all with good and bad connotations, but he was confident 'uncomfortable' hadn't exactly been the correct term—and let that awkward interaction be put to rest. He almost felt sorry for the guy, the woeful expression bound to his face and tone drawing clemency from Lysanther that he ordinarily would never experience for his patients.

As tempted as he was to spend his break exhaling about the meeting to Bradlee over the phone, patient confidentiality was something he was forced to follow by the clinic's regulations [and technically by law, he supposed]. Instead, he'd wait for the inevitable cascade of messages to reach his phone, to which he would answer with as much enthusiasm as he initially had for this arrangement. In reality, his position wasn't as horrible as he made it out to be.

Honestly, who could entirely hate being given the chance to work with someone of Lucian's likes? Learning of him outside the office wasn't ideal, of course, and some of the details he collected today were unappealing. They have been points the ravenette have already mentally iterated and will continue to reiterate— but that's just about where the complaints ended. He didn't concede to the secretary in the moment, but her observations hadn't been too different from his own. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could damn near feel the allure of the brunette's build. If Lys would spend so much time ruminating over his messy perception of Lucian, he might as well enjoy the amenities while he was at it.

Ruminating over the objectively short but subjectively entirely too long of a list had been enough to make Lysanther's face twist with aversion.

He needed to take his break now.

Because of his clear schedule for the rest of the day, Lysanther had been free to leave shortly after his break and complete the rest of his research in the comfort of his home. Naturally, that meant he would spend the last few hours of sun left with his father, then he would retreat to his place. A box of cigarettes and a USB filled with documents were all that awaited him at home. It wasn't often that he'd have quiet time in bed, free to be left to his own devices. He tried not to take these days for granted, soaking in every minute.

The room's peace had been preserved until a soft noise emitted from his closet, his eyes snapping from the blue light of his screen to the dark entrance of his wardrobe. If not for his pause in typing, he wouldn't have heard the soft sound; his alternative phone never received calls unless they were urgent. A nagging feeling in his chest urged him to leave it ignored, not entirely desperate for Work as he used to be.

However, the loathsome features that lay dormant beneath his skin had been enough to set aside the laptop, trail into the dark room, and take the call. There were a few murmurs on the other end of the line, the message austere and concise

"... Consider it done."

•••

The night's crisp air enveloped Lysanther's skin as he stooped over a building of low stature. In his state of undress, the chills along his body were accompanied by a malaise he always felt during the dusk. Underneath the luminosity of the moon's glow, he was entirely indistinguishable from his regular appearance; he had a darker form of an opalescent hue to his skin, seemingly nothing more than a dark figure that meshed with shadows. The only part that stayed true to his original image was his jet black hair, brushed and clipped back as much as possible to keep from his face, mouth, and stature.

Lysanther had been tasked to 'shanghai,' as his informant had worded, a furtive laboratory operating in a rundown, seemingly harmless building. The basic instruction of, 'Be sure to bring the scientist back alive,' complemented his broad assumption that he was looking forward to more than just a few people he'd have to take care of before deeming the mission as 'completed.' After a thorough scope of the building, he solidified that regard.

Getting inside was the easy element of his plan. Lysanther scaled down the side of the structure, zeroing in on his first target. There had only been one lone man loitering outside, up to god knows what. Without the restriction of gloves and the freedom to concentrate, he had no issue conjuring a rough but wieldy throwing knife using the metals he acquired on his venture down. In just a flick of his wrist and his impeccable sense of timing, the knife was sheathed in the side of the unsuspecting's neck.

The next part was simple: reshape into the man's identity, dress in his attire, discard the body—it was always the most grotesque part of the job, using just a touch of his hand to entirely dismember a person and reorganize it under the cement almost as if it never existed—and get inside. Lys wasn't required to engage with anyone under a new guise and could map out the scene without any hassle.

The first type of job he got, similar to this, made him feel like he was in a James Bond movie, reliving one of his short-lived fantasies as a kid. Holding on to that thought kept him lucid until he got home. He still holds onto that thought as he wanders past various people in lab coats, tinkering with oversized machinery or scrutinizing glowing objects, sometimes so bright he couldn't entirely make out what it was.

Lys knew he would find his objective soon when he reached the establishment's basement; a heavy eye roll was directed at the cliche. The cellar was one vast room, a large workspace filled with forgotten or destroyed projects. The dingy lighting from above made it difficult to see what exactly had been, but he couldn't help but curiously eye each invention and briefly imagine what could've possibly been in mind during its making. Some were small, giving the impression of weapons or other handhelds, while others were huge and loomed over his head as if intended to be an entrapment device.

"Jimmy!" For a split second, he felt his heart thrumming in his throat. "My love, come and look." Lo and behold, the one scientist he was sure to be the person he came out for tonight. Nothing special in her features made her stand out, but the way she held herself and the large area seemingly designated to only her buttressed his line of thought. She regarded Lys as the person he portrayed to be, establishing an impression of what their relationship must've been. His shoulders were taken in the hands of the woman, not too much older than himself, and guided to a mobile desk. In front of it lay a nightmarish-looking device, thick wiring emerging from all ends of its hissing build and buttons glowing in ominous, red hues. "It's nearly completed..! I've been told we're being sent a subject later this week, and after testing, we can..."

Maybe this had been the most challenging part of his job. As he partially listened to the woman's ramblings, subconsciously debating on breaking cover now or when she finished, he noticed the impassioned way she delivered her words. This bright sparkle lit up her sunken eyes, the amorous touches she spared between sentences. He was more than disinterested in the information being spewed, but there was something so humane in the way she went about it that he nearly—not quite yet, but it did pinch at his heart—felt morose about what he came here to enact.

An abrupt alarm and stampede of footsteps rapidly increasing rose his defenses. "Damn..!" The shield around his heart and mind had slippered far too low, and its repercussions were beginning to show.

The woman looked equally confused about the noises and the voice that didn't belong to the man he pretended to be. Lysanther was forced to swiftly grab the nearest object he could, a book, and drive its corner into her temple with a dull thud. Her body connected with the ground as soon as he could turn and see several appearing from around the corner. Not leaving a second to spare, Lys knocked the desk into those closest to his front, book in hand reforming into a small javelin and slotted into the abdomen of another that dared to come around from behind.

Although less than expected, about half a dozen people surrounded him with protection aimed in his direction. "We have you outnumbered; give up while you're given the chance!"

"As if the sheer will of you all combined could take me out," he mused, primarily to himself, of the gall from the guy with brass knuckles. While most were harmless to the likes of him, the mysterious gleam of a hefty bioweapon was a tad more.. intimidating. "You should be more concerned for yourselves," his voice made an odd, reverberating sound as he shifted back into his previous look. While some looked taken aback, they all held firm to their position, albeit more resigned than a moment ago.

Lysanther had to be the first to act; he leaped behind the device the woman scientist had showcased earlier to buy time, remaking the clothes he wore into a limited amount of throwing knives. The soft material of the clothes made his resources far less scarce than he preferred, but it would have to make do as a man circled him with his own blade. The ravenette had been much faster in his attack, lunging at the man and forcing the tip of one of the many daggers into his chest. Baring his teeth to those who remained, his spike in adrenaline boosted his pre-existing confidence from his flawless performance. Lys preferred not to engage in altercations of this proximity, but he could manage with mid-range.

Fixating on the holder of the most prominent weapon, he put his knives to use against either the person or the gun in hopes of piercing one, all the while roughly dodging or landing clumsy blows on those who disrupted his flow. It was a pain to be holding a handful of weapons in one arm; as he kicked one pathetic scientist away, the heavy bazooka projected a thick, misty spray aimed at his free arm. Lysanther hissed at the painful way his skin crackled and practically became immobilized at his side.

The knives were absorbed once more as a reflex mechanism and used almost as armor for his functioning arm. His fist met the guy's mouth, something wet being left behind in his knuckles—spit, blood, possibly a tooth. The man's head jerked back with the force, a strangled noise choking at him as he and the gun collapsed to the ground.

Even with a loss of feeling in his dominant limb, Lysanther felt a swell of pride in his execution. "Fuck you," he snarled to the man falling in and out of consciousness.

"One down." His breathing was steady, too steady—like this wasn't exertion, but indulgence. His fingers twitched at his side, itching for more, and when his gaze lifted, it was sharp, gleaming. Amused. Hungry. His expression had no anger, just the slow, creeping thrill of something he wasn't even trying to hide anymore.