Introduction
Just Lemons
King of Lemons
IntroductionHello to you all!
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The name is Hayden and Im an 18-year-old who like you all is stuck inside. My timezone is GMT +1. I am honestly really active, like too active and can be quicker than most to reply. Then again I do take pride in my posts. I have a lot of time on my hands and am a sucker for a good long-term roleplay. I am seeking roleplay with someone or a small group of people. I use he/him pronouns so please message me with the word lemons somewhere so I know you have read everything! I can take a few requests but I do have a few requirements and rules besides all the RP nation rules.
If you enjoy a good, detailed roleplayer who has been writing for years then I urge you to continue reading!
First, however, I will explain a few things about myself. I have been roleplaying for eight years now and have grown to my own style. I can be a sucker for description at times and enjoy setting the scene. I normally roleplay as male but can play as females in some situations and certain plots. I love writing and am even writing my own book at the moment, I have also written my own fanfiction on Wattpad. I write with as much detail as possible for what is going on and take pride in what and how I write.
RULESHere are the rules! Please try and follow them. Remember, Lemons!
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I beg you to be at least literate and have decent grammar!I DO NOT roleplay fandoms. Please don’t ask me to.Please tell me if you are going to leave or can’t post for a few daysI would ENJOY if we could chat OOC. I like to make friends too!Not necessary but it would be nice if you could play as more than one character and be good at it! It gives our world more of a build and makes it feel more like a world.Ask if you want to steal any of my plots. They are all original and mine.Share with me any triggers before starting the roleplay. I would hate to trigger you!
If you are interested please don’t be scared to message me!
Writing Examples
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Short; In the midst of unconsciousness, the sensation of scraping against his side brought his mind awake. He was still very much limp and his body was still considerably far from awake. All he could manage to do was to hear and to feel. Everything else within him was locked down. He craved to awaken but it appeared his brain was operating at the illest stages of alternativeness. He felt two, rather strong wolves have a hold on him and were pulling. Deep inside he hoped it was Chaos and another, even if that too rose fear within him. He felt his body being dragged through dirt and debris, little sticks and rocks scraping his skin and causing tiny cuts that would do no harm to him. His fur became messier and messier, the dirt was now stuck to his blood-soaked fur, making it a murky colour of brown and red. Instead of a collaboration of white and grey.
Then everything stopped. The pulling ceased and his body was let go of, it went quiet and he was once again left alone. He didn’t want to be alone, he missed his brothers and sisters, he missed curling up with them and having their warmth shared. A weird thought for him, he hadn’t thought about his siblings in a long time and hadn’t seen them in even longer. He felt the comfort of a familiar place. He felt enclosed and figured he was inside a den. Or so he hoped. He wasn’t completely sure but it was a guess. His body ached and all he wanted to do right now was wake up. It was tiring to have his thoughts and such awake but not be able to move. It made him feel too vulnerable for comfort.
Feeling vulnerable made him feel as if he was drowning and struggling to break out of it. He wanted to wake up. He felt like he was being forced to hold his breath, yet a breath would surely escape, for no one could force themselves to hold their breath, instincts would kick in. Much like if you would try and drown yourself, instincts would force your head up and force a breath of air to be sucked into one's lungs. Life was all about survival, thus why Fenic couldn’t wake up, his body wanted to survive, yet he wanted to be safe. The male continued his battle with himself. His body laid still but his mind was running a marathon.
Wake up you stupid mutt, I’m not safe, I’m going to die. They are going to kill me. He was screaming at himself to wake up. He may have been indecisive about death but if he was to die he didn’t want it to be at the paws of another wolf. Or any creature at that. He would rather it be of old age. Fenic had a strong will when he had his mind on something he wouldn’t give up, which got him into this mess. He was set on protecting Aikya with his life and with that came potential death. He hadn’t intended on it all going downhill. He thought he was doing the right thing but it seemed he had not, and now, he feared he was hated.
It was through the strong will that the male managed to open his eyes, they opened slowly and hesitantly. He was thankful that the sun wasn’t so bright, it being later in the day rather than earlier. His neck ached and the wound throbbed painfully. He let out a quiet whine and regretted ever wanting to wake up. Asleep, he didn’t feel the pain so much. Fenic moved to a more comfortable position and pressed up against the walls of the den. He recognised it as his own and felt more at ease. He knew if would be bad for him to try and stand so instead, he just lay there, quietly staring out the entrance of his den.
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Medium; He listened closely to Alora’s words. He found comfort in them somehow; simply glad that only one of them hated him right now. He didn’t want both of them to be shouting. Felix stood from where he was and sat back on the bench so he would be ready to leave. He didn’t want to stay here much longer and was rather hungry now. He hoped she was right for everything depended on it. He refused to allow that to happen.
“Thank you Alora, I’m sorry this has happened to you both. You guys don’t deserve this,” He was calmer now than he was a few moments ago. He was still sad of course but not as sad as he was before. What Kennedy said hurt but he was dealing with it. He didn’t want Alora to feel all the pain he felt. He was sure she had felt it when he picked the pencil up at first. Another sigh left and he stood, turning to his bag and with the pencil still in hand he put his sketchbook back inside it. Just so it was ready. Once he had he picked up his water bottle and opened the lid. The water was still cold and soothed his throat. He had a few mouthfuls before putting the bottle back in his bag. He was truly glad he didn’t have work today, or this week for the matter. It meant he could relax and give himself time to get over what has happened today.
He heard Alora again and a whole wave of anxiety hit him as she suggested they meet in three days. Yet excitement also coursed through him at the idea of meeting his soulmate for the first time. He couldn’t wait. It would be the perfect time to make it up to them both. Three days time. That was so close. His heart fluttered and quickened its pace as he imagined what they would both look like. Beautiful no doubt but it was unimaginable. Nothing would match their beauty and he just hoped they didn’t live too far. He would search the address once he got home.
“You have my word,” Felix was a man that kept to his word no matter the circumstance, he would go through anything to keep it and could be rather selfless at times. Unless it involved large bodies of water, he had a terrible fear of it and as much as he tried he couldn’t get anywhere near his boat. His father took care of the maintenance of it for him. “I won’t tell Kennedy but I don’t think she would want to talk to me anyway,” he told Alora sadly. “Either way I will be there. I’m going to go now. Stay safe my love and I hope for the same for Kennedy.”
With his last word, Felix hesitantly put the pencil into the bag. A sad smile lingering on his lips. He adjusted the bag so it sat on his hip before making his way over to the gate. With an old creak, it was pushed open and Felix walked down the path. He came away from the more scenic part of his town and headed down a particular street. The sweet scent of coffee and breakfast treats filled the air. His stomach growled and he followed the path towards the cafe he almost lived at. Alora and Kennedy never left his thoughts, his mind swirling between them. He wondered how they would act in real life. Would they be different? The door pushed open and the quiet ring of a bell that told the workers of a new customer rang through. A waitress behind the bar looked up and waved at Felix. “The usual?” She asked loudly to which he laughed a little and nodded. “So that's a cinnamon-spiced coffee with soy milk and a cinnamon swirl pastry,” the woman hummed to herself as she put his order through and took the money from her co-worker. It was clear he came here a lot and adored the taste of cinnamon. It was his favourite thing. The soy milk was inspired by his brother to try and impress him but wasn’t vegan himself. It kind of just stuck and tasted better than cow’s milk.
Felix took his drink and breakfast before heading over to a booth next to a window. He placed his bag next to him and his breakfast on the table. He brought his left leg up and rested his ankle on his knee as he relaxed into the seat. His eyes were locked on the window and all the people walking past. He saw a few couples holding hands while walking around. They seemed so happy and the way they looked at each other was everything. A breath left his mouth and he turned his attention to the coffee in his hands. “I hope I can do that with at least one if not both of them one day, How could I ever choose?” Felix thought to himself, it would be impossible. With one sip, he tried to allow himself to relax.
The days slipped by so easily and quickly. Too quickly for Felix’s liking. He didn’t have enough time to prepare himself and everything he needed. Every day he was either sorting things out for himself and the trip or getting things ready for them. He knew he wanted to buy them both something and would need to buy transport as well as a hotel to stay in close to where she lived. Felix didn’t live too far, a few hours by car and just a few more than that if he were to travel by coach. He had booked his tickets as soon as he could to keep the price low. He didn’t have a lot of money and refused to ask for any from his parents.
It was three days from when he found out he had two soulmates. It was three days from the day Kennedy spat hate towards him. He forgave her and didn’t expect an apology. Instead he would give her one from himself. As well as one to Alora. If he had to, he would get on his knees and do his best. He had a whole plan. He had booked a hotel out for two weeks, wanting to spend as much time with them as he could. For one of the weeks he had a very rigid plan and was excited. It might even leak into the second week. He also knew he wanted to get them both something that they would both like. Something that wasn’t your generic gift. He wanted to get them both something they would really appreciate and care about. Not just flowers and chocolates like everyone did. No. It would be something that showed he thought of them and their interests as an individual, not as the same. With that in mind, it was difficult to get Kennedy something unique. With Alora he got her a plant but Kennedy, she was something he had to really think about.
It made him grow frustrated and annoyed at himself. It was clear to him he knew Alora better and he hated that. He wished he tried harder but he wasn’t even sure if the other voice had been another person. It was clear to him that Kennedy was right, he should have figured all this out. He wouldn’t have broken their hearts. It made him hate himself a little but tried to push those feelings down. Through that, he had found something he hoped she would like. He had bought a basket and with that he got a few bath bombs. One had rose petals in and the other smelt like freshly baked cake. It also had other sweet smelling wash stuff as well as some incense. It was simply full of products that could make her feel good and relax.
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Long; It was misery. It was wake up, bleed, cook, work, bleed, sleep and repeat. The only new thing he could get or see was a new way his father found to push pain onto him. Which wasn’t exactly something to look forward to. What the boy wanted was to learn, no not learn how to cook or how to patch himself up after each beating. He missed school, he missed writing, reading and just listening to something other than harsh words. Every time he asked, it would end up with him, waking up in a crimson pool of his own blood that he had to clean up. Yet this did not deter the young man, he continued trying. He continued asking and thus continued bleeding. One time he finally came up with a good enough reason as to why. However, his father still wasn’t happy with it. He sent a punch directly into Callum’s stomach, a home for multiple wounds already that now bled.
“Stupid little rat.” his father hissed. “I will start you up for the new year but you must not speak, to anyone. No friends and you keep your fucking head down.”
His father made sure Callum knew the rules, saying them each time he beat him. He made sure to avoid the boy’s face now, though. Just coming down like a storm on his ribs and such instead. Somehow, Callum was happy he could go to school. Not only would he learn but it also meant fewer beatings. It was going to be his safety net. He wanted it to start sooner. However, Callum had learnt how to deal with it. This would make sure Callum knew his place and ensured no one would find out. If anyone did, not only would the cruel man go to jail but he would also lose his little punch bag. It was hard to find new ways of causing his son pain but with every experiment, the line between life and death narrowed.
Time went on, Callum waited patiently for his school to begin. It wasn’t at the beginning of a year but halfway through after a term had finished. It was the morning of his first day. The boy sighed softly and slowly sat up; he ran his hands through his hair and glanced at his arm; his sleeve had rolled up and the bandage was messed up. He sighed softly and slowly took it off; itching where it had been whilst avoiding the few cuts he had given himself last night. He pulled the sleeve down and walked over to his closet, pulling out some sweatpants and his binder; the item of clothing he held dear to him. His father knew nothing of it and he managed to get it from a friend, he hid it as he knew if his father found it there would be no seeing it again. For moments, he forgot he had school and once he remembered Callum was ecstatic. His reminder was some knew clothes his father had bought reluctantly. He didn’t want to but had to. A pair of loose trousers and a hoody way too big for him laid on the ground. It hurt the bruises to move in such a way but he was silent.
It was early, too early for school at the moment but Callum wanted to get out as soon as possible. His ribs ached and his body covered in dry blood. He made sure to wash, not wanting to smell at school. After all, he was covered in dry blood that had a putrid smell. It was so revolting, even maggots would turn their noses up at him. Bruises of purple and blue replaced pale skin, only growing as the days went by. His body never had a chance to heal and it permanently affected the way he walked. He was given a permanent limp. Or so he thought. If he were to go to the hospital and have his ribs fixed, he would walk properly again. The hospital was a no go. He was warned with certain death and at times he wondered if that would be all too bad.
As quiet as possible, Callum opened the doors to his empty wardrobe. The wood was a dark brown and was once a beautiful thing. Now, it was torn up and growing mould at the bottom from where Callum couldn’t clean the blood and urine away. He glanced behind him every now and then, scared of his father walking in. He opened up the bottom of it, which was where he kept his only possessions. Anything else was destroyed by his father so he made sure it was well hidden. It was an old and tattered bag, the strap was torn up and it had definitely seen a lot. It held the look of age and hung low on Callum’s side. Inside were a few items. There were a few things to keep his wounds clean and covered. If he bled everywhere, his father would get angry. He was constantly learning how to get hurt less. Yet it didn’t work much. He would need these dressings at school. Bleeding there would get him into serious trouble. It also held a lighter and pack of cigarettes. He always stole them from his father when he was either out or too drunk to even notice his child’s existence. Then there was his most prized possession. It was a book, an old book at that. It was called Private Peaceful by Micheal Morpurgo. It was his pride and joy. He had read it over and over again. Some of the pages were torn and dirty but that didn’t matter, he knew the word for word. He took the bag with him, knowing he would need to book at times where he had nothing else to do.
Callum’s head snapped up as he heard a groan and the sound of springs clinging together coming from down the hall. Callum had grown very good hearing. He could hear the smallest of things from a mile away. For if he didn’t he was at risk. The young boy had to always be on edge if he was to survive and avoid as many beatings as possible. His father was stirring and would soon surely get up, everything would be harder now. It was hard to stay quiet when every movement was gasoline to a fire that was his pain. If he didn’t leave soon he would end up being late to school or even never go. He knew if his father got his hands on him, it would be a mess of blood and pain, which wouldn’t be good for the school, it would be harder to hide the abuse. So with that, he pulled himself up, ribs pulsing as he did so but nonetheless, he continued. He closed the wardrobe with such a gentle touch, that it hardly made a sound.
The young man adjusted his bag and ran a hand through his hair, a painful action in itself. Pain, pain and more pain was all his life was. Hopefully, school added something pleasurable. He then started slowly leaving his room, his steps were light and quiet but also uneven. His house was an old one with floorboards that squeaked but his light and the malnourished frame were going to hardly put pressure on them and for that, he was more grateful than you could imagine. He was a feather and his father a bull. He was excited and scared at the same time, repeating the rules within his mind. Say nothing, Keep your head down. Make no friends. A quiet sigh left his lips as he already grew tired. His body was weak but his mind; determined. Nothing was going to stop this chance. He begged for it and got beat down for it harder than he ever had but he won. So for that, he refused to ruin this chance.
A quiet sigh left his chest and he slowly made his way down the steps. Each one was agony, each one felt like his ribs would rip from his body. He felt his healing wounds split under the dressings, a warm liquid spread through and around some of the wounds. It was uncomfortable but he would have to deal with it. It’s not like he could do anything about it. Callum painfully made his way down and glanced toward the kitchen. He was starving, he hadn’t even had a stale piece of bread in three days. That was the only thing he ate in all. He got scraps now and then, even if it had mould on it he would have to eat it. It was that or nothing. His immune system was brilliant because of it. Just at the beginning, he got quite unwell. Not that anyone cared enough to take care of him.
Although, he wouldn’t risk stealing anything right now, not when he had school to lose for it. Callum hung his head low and quietly left the house. He hadn’t left in forever and the sun hit him quick, his eyes squinted and he had to keep them on the ground. He didn’t live too far; his father choosing the closest school. Not caring about anything than that. He didn’t want to have to take Callum there or have to deal with much. Once a few steps away from his house, Callum breathed in the fresh air, his skin almost white. His skin hadn’t seen the light of day in years and he almost looked like a vampire.
As he walked slowly, he pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. A lighter following and allowing his lungs to fill with toxic smoke. Normally, he would have cared about getting cancer or something but he was already getting abused. What could be worse?
PLOTS
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When it comes to plots I have quite a few. I have put a lot into them so I will put a basic aspect of them here and if you are interested I can send you the detailed written out part. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.
Pairings;
* Mafia boss x Kidnapped; *
Muse A is quite high up when it comes to social status, being the head of the mafia and being respected by almost everyone. He is well known yet not in a good way. He does and gets what he wants and when he wants it. He isn't the best of men and is quite intimidating. He is brutal and doesn't have a care in the world for others so when he showed up at Muse B's house, Muse B did as told. Muse A had business with the other man's father but they were avoiding him and not giving him what was needed.
Muse B's father wasn't home so Muse A took the what he thought was of some importance to the man; their son, Muse B. Muse B's father can be anywhere from a nice father that got thrown in the wrong direction to abusive and repulsive.
Terrified; Muse B complied and followed the other into the car quietly where he was taken to the others place to keep the place tidy, cook and answer Muse A's every whim and desire. Muse A isn't the only one who wants Muse B. Muse B is quiet and obedient. There are many ways this can go and with this plot, it would be easy for romance to burn slowly.
Possible triggers (depends on you on the way I take my character if Muse B) :
Abuse
Violence
Drugs/alcohol
Anything to do with mafia ect
** Devil/satan/lucifer x human **
Vampire x Human
Murder x Victim
Normal kid x Abused kid
Professor x University student
Werewolf x Human soul mate
More to be added
These are just some ideas, the ones in bold are the ones I have the written plots for. I am also open to any of your ideas and plots!
If you want to roleplay, pm me!
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