TheMysticNamedFae
Junior Member
Hey folks! Call me Fae, 21+ years old, and here with another idea.
I am looking for a romance set in either the Regency or the early Victorian era! I want the scandal of disregarding the etiquette, the expectations placed upon women broken, arranged marriages broken, and true love found outside of one's own class! We can either keep it realistic or even turn it into a low fantasy if so desired!
Either way, I want my happy end, so that´s a must because I am sappy like that. I also cannot do slow-burn, sorry-not-sorry, though I am willing to do so for your side should we double! I wish to play an FxM for my side (with me playing F) but if you want to double I can play whatever you desire for your side, no matter the pairing.
Requirements:
Still with me? Great! My idea is rather vague, so feel free to implement your own ideas! And as said above, I am more than willing to double! Always eager to hear your idea for your side of the doubling or simply brainstorm with you!
Either way, my idea was that a gentleman of the upper class falls in love with a young lady of either middle or working class. I would like an age gap to be present, somewhere between 5-15 years, whatever you feel the most comfortable with. I imagine the man to be the typical trope of "grumpy morally grey character with a soft spot for only one person" - if that makes any sense. Perhaps even a little bit cruel, is used to having power and influence over people... and then this sassy lower-class lady pops up and is sweet but also sassy to him.
Something along those lines. Nothing else settled yet, as I would love to brainstorm with you, no matter if a single couple or a double-up!
Below you will find my writing sample, if you are interested please reach out to me with a writing sample of your own!
Writing Sample
That was one of the last things she expected to happen. It was such a beautiful night. The full moon stood high. It was not too cool, not too warm. One might even say it was the perfect night to die. Normally she would laugh at such dark humor. Yet right now she did not feel like giggling at all. Not only was she out of breath but she was also afraid.
No matter how hard she tried her steps were not silent at all. Her cloak long abandoned, was left on the very bush it got stuck on. She darted between the trees, feeling the weight of the hunter's pursuit. She could hear them approach from the distance, drawing closer with each moment.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she raced through the darkness. Her magic previously crackled around her but at this time it was no longer humming with power. The barriers of root and thorns she had cast before in the hope of slowing her pursuers down had certainly done their job. Sadly, it was not enough. Fear and superstition certainly could feel people's confidence. But she was not going to give up either. She fled deeper into the heart of the forest, through the tangled maze of trees.
At this point, she was pushing herself to the limits of her endurance. Her body was already bearing the scars of those hunter's weapons. Blood stained her black robe, a grim testament to the violence that she had endured already.
Pain laced through her side, the bleeding wounds were only one of her issues. She clutched her side tightly while stumbling further onward. Somehow she managed to disappear into the shadows. Out of sight but sadly not out of mind. Hidden well enough to escape the witch hunters view just for a moment. Yet that was very much enough for her to find something important. Apparently, some kind of deity had finally mercy upon her. An abandoned manor. Looming above her with its crumbling facade.
With no other choice, she hurried inside. The front door was unlocked and she hoped that was no bad omen. Hopefully, no one else was waiting inside for her and it was just some lucky coincidence. She could see no light burning inside, so she could only hope for the best. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she sought sanctuary within its walls.
The air was heavy with the scent of decay and neglect. Dust motes danced in the moonlight that filtered through broken windows. Normally she would delight in such a scene. She would find the eerie shadows pleasant but the urgency of her situation forced her to think quickly.
Why had she never developed a talent for illusion magic? She could see a tucked-away alcove in the shadows of the manor, she could hide there and use an illusion to stay hidden but no. That was not within her abilities. She would need to find another way. So she hurried into the next best room, hoping that no droplets of blood would reveal her presence to her hunters.
Amidst the pain and uncertainty, there was a flicker in her eyes. She refused to be cowed by those maniacs. She would not allow them to erase her from existence like a forgotten memory. Fear and hatred would not be her end. There was one way out of this. A chance she really did not want to take but she knew it was the only chance left to survive. A risky gambit. Summoning a demon was nothing she had ever done before. However, she would rather go through this than perish.
With trembling hands, she set about preparing for the ritual that would determine her fate. Her heart was heavy with desperation but the pain shooting through her side was a constant reminder of what was to come.
Quickly she cleared space on the ground of the room she was in before pulling out her chalk. She drew a pentacle on the ground before shrugging off her backpack. How good that she had only lost her cape and not her belongings. Without any care, she dragged out some candles and placed them on the tips of the star. With a wave of her hand, she lightened up all those candles with magic.
She started to mumble incantations she had learned with the hope of never having to use them. All the while she pulled out a bundle of dried herbs and held the tip of the candle to make them burn and smoke. As the scent of incense filled the air, she dropped the herbs on the ground and stepped onto them. The last she needed was to burn this manor down.
At the center of the circle, she fell to her knees, her vision slowly blurrying. She pressed her bloody hand down on the ground, leaving a bloody handprint. The witch closed her eyes and began to whisper the last part of the summoning spell. her words echoed through the chamber like a haunting melody. With each repetition, the air grew thicker with anticipation.
The summoning of a demon was her last desperate bid for survival. She stood up again and stumbled out of the summing circle, making space for the otherwordly creature who would hopefully arrive soon. As the final syllable left her lips, a sudden gust of wind swept through the chamber, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into darkness.
I am looking for a romance set in either the Regency or the early Victorian era! I want the scandal of disregarding the etiquette, the expectations placed upon women broken, arranged marriages broken, and true love found outside of one's own class! We can either keep it realistic or even turn it into a low fantasy if so desired!
Either way, I want my happy end, so that´s a must because I am sappy like that. I also cannot do slow-burn, sorry-not-sorry, though I am willing to do so for your side should we double! I wish to play an FxM for my side (with me playing F) but if you want to double I can play whatever you desire for your side, no matter the pairing.
Requirements:
- Be at least 21+, all of our main characters meant for romance will be 21+ too, I cannot RP teenage love anymore I am too old for that
- LGBTQIA+ friendly, and comfortable with characters not fitting into the social beauty standard
- Writing in 3rd person and past tense
- Writing ~400 words per message. More is always welcome, less not so much
- Active; at least one RP response should be delivered 1-2 days
- Write on Discord or this side
Still with me? Great! My idea is rather vague, so feel free to implement your own ideas! And as said above, I am more than willing to double! Always eager to hear your idea for your side of the doubling or simply brainstorm with you!
Either way, my idea was that a gentleman of the upper class falls in love with a young lady of either middle or working class. I would like an age gap to be present, somewhere between 5-15 years, whatever you feel the most comfortable with. I imagine the man to be the typical trope of "grumpy morally grey character with a soft spot for only one person" - if that makes any sense. Perhaps even a little bit cruel, is used to having power and influence over people... and then this sassy lower-class lady pops up and is sweet but also sassy to him.
Something along those lines. Nothing else settled yet, as I would love to brainstorm with you, no matter if a single couple or a double-up!
Below you will find my writing sample, if you are interested please reach out to me with a writing sample of your own!
Writing Sample
That was one of the last things she expected to happen. It was such a beautiful night. The full moon stood high. It was not too cool, not too warm. One might even say it was the perfect night to die. Normally she would laugh at such dark humor. Yet right now she did not feel like giggling at all. Not only was she out of breath but she was also afraid.
No matter how hard she tried her steps were not silent at all. Her cloak long abandoned, was left on the very bush it got stuck on. She darted between the trees, feeling the weight of the hunter's pursuit. She could hear them approach from the distance, drawing closer with each moment.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she raced through the darkness. Her magic previously crackled around her but at this time it was no longer humming with power. The barriers of root and thorns she had cast before in the hope of slowing her pursuers down had certainly done their job. Sadly, it was not enough. Fear and superstition certainly could feel people's confidence. But she was not going to give up either. She fled deeper into the heart of the forest, through the tangled maze of trees.
At this point, she was pushing herself to the limits of her endurance. Her body was already bearing the scars of those hunter's weapons. Blood stained her black robe, a grim testament to the violence that she had endured already.
Pain laced through her side, the bleeding wounds were only one of her issues. She clutched her side tightly while stumbling further onward. Somehow she managed to disappear into the shadows. Out of sight but sadly not out of mind. Hidden well enough to escape the witch hunters view just for a moment. Yet that was very much enough for her to find something important. Apparently, some kind of deity had finally mercy upon her. An abandoned manor. Looming above her with its crumbling facade.
With no other choice, she hurried inside. The front door was unlocked and she hoped that was no bad omen. Hopefully, no one else was waiting inside for her and it was just some lucky coincidence. She could see no light burning inside, so she could only hope for the best. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she sought sanctuary within its walls.
The air was heavy with the scent of decay and neglect. Dust motes danced in the moonlight that filtered through broken windows. Normally she would delight in such a scene. She would find the eerie shadows pleasant but the urgency of her situation forced her to think quickly.
Why had she never developed a talent for illusion magic? She could see a tucked-away alcove in the shadows of the manor, she could hide there and use an illusion to stay hidden but no. That was not within her abilities. She would need to find another way. So she hurried into the next best room, hoping that no droplets of blood would reveal her presence to her hunters.
Amidst the pain and uncertainty, there was a flicker in her eyes. She refused to be cowed by those maniacs. She would not allow them to erase her from existence like a forgotten memory. Fear and hatred would not be her end. There was one way out of this. A chance she really did not want to take but she knew it was the only chance left to survive. A risky gambit. Summoning a demon was nothing she had ever done before. However, she would rather go through this than perish.
With trembling hands, she set about preparing for the ritual that would determine her fate. Her heart was heavy with desperation but the pain shooting through her side was a constant reminder of what was to come.
Quickly she cleared space on the ground of the room she was in before pulling out her chalk. She drew a pentacle on the ground before shrugging off her backpack. How good that she had only lost her cape and not her belongings. Without any care, she dragged out some candles and placed them on the tips of the star. With a wave of her hand, she lightened up all those candles with magic.
She started to mumble incantations she had learned with the hope of never having to use them. All the while she pulled out a bundle of dried herbs and held the tip of the candle to make them burn and smoke. As the scent of incense filled the air, she dropped the herbs on the ground and stepped onto them. The last she needed was to burn this manor down.
At the center of the circle, she fell to her knees, her vision slowly blurrying. She pressed her bloody hand down on the ground, leaving a bloody handprint. The witch closed her eyes and began to whisper the last part of the summoning spell. her words echoed through the chamber like a haunting melody. With each repetition, the air grew thicker with anticipation.
The summoning of a demon was her last desperate bid for survival. She stood up again and stumbled out of the summing circle, making space for the otherwordly creature who would hopefully arrive soon. As the final syllable left her lips, a sudden gust of wind swept through the chamber, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into darkness.
