Multiple Settings M for OC & Long-term

Sephus · Oct 11, 2018

About Me
- 27 year-old male
- Burgeoning writer
- Avid gamer

Preferences
- Minimum of 2 paragraphs+ (~400ish+ words) per reply

+ Context matters: Shorter responses are ok

- Third person & past tense
- I like to play M
- Advanced Literacy & Creativity:

+ Proper Grammar

+ Content & Substance

+ Exciting Plot Advancement

- Your ideas!
- OC and original worlds
- World building
- Please be 18+ and any romantic roles must be 18+

Quick Ideas
- Partners (of almost any setting)
- Master x Slave
- Elf x Human
- Android x Human
- Rival Families
- Forbidden Love
- Historical pairings
- Anything in a Fantasy or Sci-fi setting

Interested?
- PM me with a writing sample
- Lets discuss roles and ideas
- See below for more content[/Fieldset]

Select a tab above & thank you for taking the time!
- Starters: Brief and adjustable opening scenes.
- Roles & Ideas: Simply suggestions to get the ball rolling.
- Samples: My writing samples.
- Fandoms: If done well, it can be amazing.
- Genres: Select or Mix & Match. We can discuss and create roles together.
Plot-points, genders and roles are all adjustable. (C=Character; S=Side-Character)
- SA’s readings were setting off a cacophony of alarms and pings. His fingers flew over the holographic interface as he did his best to assuage the incessant blaring and warnings. “Captain, we’re dangerously close to X-76i’s gravitational pull. Electrical interference detected. Asteroids are in-bound”.
  
  Captain CA gripped the arm of his chair. His azure gaze quickly surveyed the bridge as a few unnerved glances shot his way. He ran his fingers through his grey comb-over and gave a nod to the wide-eyed engineer who sat in front of him, who nodded back in confirmation. Turning forward, the narrow shouldered operator lifted a hinged plastic case, and with a sweaty thumb, switched the ship into manual.
  
  A holographic control display lit up and materialized in front of the captain. A couple panels on his armrests hissed open as two flight sticks ascended. CA took a hold of each, fingers drumming the grips, “Engage”.
  
  A yellow projection formed a visor over his eyes as he took a moment to re-familiarize himself with the controls’ nuances.
  
  “Initiate Safety Protocols” called his second, SB. Belts and buckles shot out from each member’s seats as they were fastened and secured. The standing crew found nearby auxiliary seats that autonomously latched the crew into place as the ship took a sharp turn and careened. An assortment of unsecured belongings flew off surfaces. Some were caught and stowed by crew members, other unclaimed articles tumbled about.
  
  SC’s eyes glowed as she held out a hand and brought the straying chattels to a stop. The last thing they needed was someone’s issue of Explorer’s Tribune to fly into the Captain’s face while he maneuvered through death and destruction. CA pressed both sticks forward and the ship took a steep nose dive, narrowly missing a craterous rock. The crew lurched and rocked in response to the Captains quick and instinctive navigation.
  
  The ship’s nauseating acrobatics slowly eased into a constant velocity, passing through the dusty edges of the Asteroid field. The sweat-slick engineer chuckled and glanced around at the crew. Younger members were jubilant with admiration and appreciation. The veterans didn’t crack a smile. The bridge grew silent as a hulking Malum cruiser phased between them and their objective. Crackles and swirls of energy in the distance marked the arrival of hundreds of other cruisers and frigates alike. A colossal tear in space struggled open as a behemoth Capital ship dropped out of hyper-drive and loomed menacingly over its massive fleet.
  
  “Well, shit”.
- CA grimaced as a file slid over his desk and, figuratively and literally, fell into his lap. He looked up with a heavy sigh before dropping his gaze to the folder as his hairy knuckles pulled it open. He briefly thumbed through the pages, glossing over details, and murmuring a few keywords that caught his eye. He shut the case with finality and threw it back across the desk. A grey manicured hand slammed it to a halt.
  
  “Open and shut case” CA threw his canine haunches onto a chewed and scratched desk, his fingers interlaced behind his shaggy head. On his worktable lay an assortment of scattered papers, an opened carton of cigarettes, and a stress ball ridden with bites. “The Imp did it”.
  
  A pair of yellow eyes narrowed at him as she snarled, revealing rows of crooked, razor-sharp teeth. Her infernal appearance was in stark contrast with her adherence to the department’s dress code. She placed both long-nailed hands on the beastman’s desk and lean forward, glowering at his carefree attitude. Had this been any other broad, CA’s tail might be happily wagging. Yet, his motionless tail, bristling fur, perked ears, and a canned growl rewarded his fiendish co-worker a nonpareil feeling of satisfaction.
  
  She stood and turned, her demeanor morphing from that of a predator to a demure doe-eyed officer. She shot a glance over her narrow horned shoulder and raised her brow, eyes motioning to the precinct’s exit.
  
  CA grunted as he straightened his back, paws and claws hitting the recently buffed linoleum. He stood, gathered his cigarettes and pulled his old leather coat from the back of his chair. He was gonna go anyways. He briskly shouldered past CB, who ambled behind with the corners of her lips tugging up smugly.
- CA flinched as his eyes shot open. Sweat dripped down his pounding temples and soaked the sheets he slept on. He sat up and peered down. His brow raised as he stared at a ridged stomach that wasn’t his, but poking the taut abdominal seemed to prove otherwise. His breath hastened in panic as he reached up and touched angular features that did not belong to him. No, he was the fluffy one; the redhead who lagged behind all the boys and girls in gym class. The one who could barely make it one lap before slowing to a breathy walk.
  
  He pulled his sheets off the unfamiliar lower body and threw its legs over the side of the bed. CA held the hands in front of him and wondered where his short stubby fingers had gone. He stood up and a sudden wave of vertigo had him reeling until he steadied himself with the help of a nearby dresser, causing a picture frame to collapse. He stood the frame back up and peered at a photo taken with his best friend James. That was him! The freckled, short, curly-haired ginger!
  
  He turned to a full height mirror that stood to his right. Who was this sharp-jawed, narrow-nosed, smoldering reflection staring at him? He watched the reflection touch his fair-skinned face and smooth over his copper curls. He stared a for a few more moments, his eyebrows unsure of what expression to contort to. He doubled over as the realization gut-punched his notion of reality. This was a dream. An awesome dream! But just a dream. He looked up and around his room, searching for a grounding inconsistency that would prove the dream lucid rather than actuality. His brows furrowed. His desktop was humming, his nightlight was on, and he had five fingers on each hand. This was not a dream.
Rough Pairings that I've thought about. Most, if not all, are older ideas.
- Probably need to flesh this out with more detail. Ideally, it would be something similar to Mass Effect and/or Star Trek where the primary goal of the crew is to explore or combat a threat (the fate of a city, planet, universe)
  
  I'm thinking both are crew members of the same ship, or one of them is the commander and the other could be the vice/right-hand (wo)man, crew member, prisoner, refugee (Alien or Human).
  
  Alternatively they can meet planetside or be on different ships initially.
- CA: The owner
  CB: An android
  
  CA: The owner
  i) a relatively normal individual who finds the android for the first time, or
  ii) an anti-hero archetype with severe character flaws, but has redeeming qualities who finds the android , or
  iii) is a depraved, sadistic, and/or cruel individual who finds the android,
  *Android can be ordered/purchased/gifted but being found with memories persent or wiped allows the android possibly have a deeper backstory and history.
  
  CB: An android:
  i) that's achieved sentience, or
  ii) in a setting where AI and technology have advanced greatly; most, if not all Androids have sentience,
  iii) a refurbished or found android that's experienced hardships/ abuse at the hand of past owners
  iv) a rogue android (opposed to x corporation or the human race in general)
  
  We can put into play more than one, if not all, of these character types into this story.
- CA: Recluse
  CB: Childhood friend/ AI/ Rehab program/ degenerate enabler
  Roles interchangeable
  Can be a platonic or romantic relationship.
  
  I want this RP to focus on or follow the themes of the general anxieties and fears we face while living in a modern tribalistic society, where merits are only merits when recognized by others. If our achievements are only known to yourself, and no one's there to appreciate or remember it, are they achievements at all?
  
  Achievement (noun): "something accomplished, especially by superior ability, special effort, great courage, etc; a great or heroic deed"
  
  The words great, heroic, superior, special are all referential words, in that they are great when compared to the baseline or another lesser or greater achievement(s). If there are no points of reference, is it still an achievement? Or is it just an individual wallowing in their own lonely existence?
  
  Hopefully we can examine and discuss the possible despair and insignificance we might feel when we attempt to understand and fathom the grandeur of the our universe. Are there multiple versions of ourselves wandering and trudging through the exact same existences?
  
  Nihilism, self-realization, and acceptance of our limitations.
- 2 characters whose social stature and/or station differ widely. Yet, from sheer attraction and serendipitous fate, they always find each other. Their converging paths are ubiquitously littered with conflicts, antagonists, hardships, etc, but their love trumps all else.
  
  To take this one further, I've often imagined a cloud-atlas type of story where the two souls are in constant search for and drawn to one another across different timelines, scenarios, or even universes.
  
  So this is more just the overall theme that would follow 2+ characters. I feel like this may be a little more ambitious.
- CA: wealthy estate owner, crime lord, or "insert position of influence". CA is typically of anti-hero nature with a dark demeanor and darker past.
  CB: purchased, kidnapped, or recruited as someone of lowly stature/ position. CB can be on the purer/ innocent side of the spectrum, though not necessarily. Examples could be a slave, human traffickee, doctor, under-cover cop, henchman, etc.
  
  Through chemistry, hardships, events, betrayals, the two will (or may not, it's up to us) grow closer.
  
  I'm hoping this will eventually grow to a larger story of influence and political/ business prowess in the world of powerful peoples. The relationships of said characters and other side characters will be the backbone of such a story.
- A suited figure flew through the air into a pile of refuse: the pungency and age of the city's detritus progressively increased towards the heap's core. At least they were courteous enough to have his trajectory lined up with something softer than the alleyway's wet, cold concrete. The venue's backdoor slammed shut, but not before a bald barrel-chested bouncer spat on the landing of the short flight of stairs.
  
  Glimmers of awareness slowly molded into consciousness as a concussed Taurus came to. He took a moment to regain as much composure as a man sitting in trash could muster. The relentless rain fell heavily on his sport jacket's shoulders. His bearded jaw shifted with the audible grind of teeth as he straightened his back and coat. Pushing off his landfill-bound throne, Taurus stood with his chest out and shoulders back, readjusting his cuffs and... Ofcourse they'd take my watch. Taurus closed his eyes, one freshly blackened, as the familiar thuds of a migraine began to set in.
  
  Taurus turned back to his rubbish refuge. Sitting where he landed was the end-game winning assistant, supposedly tried and tested to be completely undetectable. The memory of the salesman's recited pitch and shit-eating grin elbowed its way into his mind. Taurus' scarred knuckles whitened as he sauntered over to collect the smoking remains of said assistant, now a broken assortment of bent metal and cracked circuit boards. Almost as broke as he was.
  
  A lock of hair fell in front of his eye as he reached down, only to pause as, through a small window between bags of garbage, another set of eyes caught his. He could see the soft symmetrical features of another possible victim.
  
  In a flurry, bags and pieces of garbage flew past his coat-tails as he dug desperately. Terrified rodents squeaked and scurried away as their home was pulled apart. And there it was: its grimy but pristine cheeks now dotted and lined with rain drops, as if the inanimate droid was crying. He rested a hand on a wet garbage bag, as he loomed in, inspecting the nude sex-bot. Its body lay haphazardly spread-eagle. Most likely, it was unceremoniously dropped onto the trash pile from one of the suites above. A lot of effort was poured into its anatomical accuracy and generous details. The sight brought a conflicting mixture of fiscal-curiosity and arousal to the unlucky-now-lucky man. Two thoughts vied for dominance as he contemplated his next course of action: was he to sate his penchant for gambling or the carnal needs of a man in need?
  
  Leaning forward, and with an arduous grunt, Taurus pulled the surprisingly soft but cold fleshy body from its filthy place of slumber. Bending his knees, he heaved it onto his shoulder and staggered further into the alleyway, its charging cord and arms swaying behind him. It was probably for the best not to be seen with a naked bot over his shoulder. What would the folks think.
  
  The detour felt miles longer than the actual distance traveled. Upon arrival, Taurus awkwardly swung the side of his hip at his apartments backdoor sensor. After a few swings, the red sensor turned green and the reinforced aluminum door clicked open with an incessant buzz. Using his free-shoulder, the drenched man and his immodest cargo pushed into the apartment's hallway, taking refuge from the downpour. The buzzing only stopped once the door slammed shut behind him. His leather shoes squished with moisture as he left damp foot prints and droplets of water on the stained carpets. Arriving at the sole elevator, he impatiently spammed the Up button.
  
  The rumbling elevator groaned to a stop. An earnest ding pulled the doors open, only to reveal an aging mother with her three wide-eyed kids in the 4ft x 4ft lift. With an agape stare, Taurus seriously contemplated waiting for the elevator to go up and return, and hopefully avoid mentally scarring the family. But this droid was really heavy.. and honestly, the damage was already done. What was a few more minutes going to do? He stepped in slowly, meekly bowing his head to the appalled matriarch. He turned around and strained to reach and press his floor number that failed to light up in response. The mother's reproachable scoff and her progeny's unnerving silence forced the guilt-tripped Taurus to keep his eyes forward. The distorted image of him and the droids ass gazed back at him. Also, the children were staring directly at the sex-bot's open-eyed, lips slightly parted face.
  
  The elevator really took it's time as it ascended with great effort. It ground to stop at the 14th floor; not his floor. Taurus awkwardly shuffled to the right, allowing a small gap for the traumatized family to escape through. The matron shot him a venomous glare and shook her head as she questioned her faith in humanity. Their dinner was either going to be deathly silent or rife with uncomfortable questions.
  Thankfully, the closing elevator doors provided the much needed barrier between Taurus and the offendee's persistent gaze. The lift rumbled back into motion without further interruptions or unpleasant stares.
  
  Despite the building's condition, his suite was actually pretty nice: a corner penthouse with an amazing view of the city. And by city, meant he could slightly see down the street, the prevailing view was an obnoxious amalgamation of neon billboards or screens advertising the latest energy injections and augmentations. He was genuinely surprised he didn't buy more power shots or impulsively have his limbs mutilated.
  The 3-bedroom flat lit up upon his entry. To his immediate left was a simple hallway of a kitchen, its sink stacked full of soaking dirty dishes. Past the kitchen's counter and bar, was the condos living room. A large sectional couch sat near the middle of the room, in front of an 88-inch flat screen, featuring an interactive and holographic interface. It was a good use of money, really. Lining the walls in stacks were dozens of mostly unpacked boxes. Just the necessities were dug out and used.
  
  His legs felt like jelly at this point. After quick stumbling waddle to the couch, Taurus dumped the moist body onto the plush sectional chesterfield. His knees gave out and his upper body slumped over the arm of the couch and the bot's smooth legs. "Fuck me.." a loud groan filled the otherwise silent room, as he let his cheek rest on the androids wet knee. The strong right he took to the jaw, which effectively knocked him out, now made a stinging return as he reached up and touched his bruised mandible. As he glanced at the bathroom's open door, his eyes doubled back to the charging cord hanging off the seat of the couch. It protruded from the droids nape. He tongued a molar in thought, before taking the plug and inserting it into an extension cord leading away from the entertainment system.
  
  The lights stuttered and blinked off for a moment before gradually turning back on. The click of his refrigerator running again and the now blinking unset clocks on his appliances made him question if this month's electricity bill would single-handedly drive him into foreclosure. The thought tempted him to unplug the bot. He chewed his lower lip in trepidation, before clumsily reopening his split lip. The stinging sensation seemed to be the harbinger of all the pain his body was hoarding. Leaving the the droid to ramp up his utility bills, Taurus stood and uneasily made his way into the bathroom.
- With a sharp gasp of metaphorical air, the white-haired Avelor woke with a start. His metaphysical self sat up, his elven ears twitched, and his brow crinkled in thought. Dreamers didn't stumble into the Fade. In fact, he typically pranced or pirouetted through the twisted landscapes of the veil. At a whim, he could swan-dive, cannonball, or drop kick his way into the Fade and land like a cat, poised and alert.
  
  But this trip was different: his usual stroll through the Veil was wrought with altering paths and demons alike. For once, Avelor was not the driver on this particular ethereal venture. It was as if he lost his footing in the Veil and tumbled into the Beyond. His consciousness was a swirling blur as he dipped in and out of the Fade, only to find himself disoriented and lost within the once familiar realm. Its usual nebulous rock formations floated by. He could even peer the Black City in the distance, but the golden city was rarely used as a point of reference. The Fade's unstable and shifting nature meant Dreamers navigated on instinct alone. He had never ventured this far into the Fade; there was never a need to. So what brought him here now?
  
  He closed his eyes as his memories seemed to be just beyond his grasp. A flash of white flaming hair and a wicked smile conjured the name: Rathana Parthenius. According to rumors, the shape-shifting general was a denizen of the Fade. Nothing else seemed to explain her bizarre existence nor her meteoric rise to power. And Avelor's thirst for status could only be quenched by realizing her, or its, secrets. His glimmering form stood up and he made his way down a craggy flight of steps.
  
  He remembered why he ventured into that pocket of the Veil: there was a presence that wreaked of Rathana. But it was only a glimmer of a hunch that pushed him to follow his intuition. The path the figure took was arduous and unorthodox. Most dreamers selected the path of least resistance or bypassed the Veil all together. The Veil was simply the buffer between Thedas and the Fade. However, he deduced that his mark was looking for a particular entrance or tear. And when they found it, their scent disappeared. It was as if the mere presence of his target stayed the demons and spirits. The instant it left the veil to enter the Fade, a flood of unease and instability racked the very ground he stood on. Demons and spirits that typically ignored or feared him, now rampantly closed the distance. Feeling an unfamiliar lurch of uncertainty and fear, he ran, his robes billowing behind him. He hopped over and slid under obstacles before falling unintentionally into the Maker's former realm.
  
  At the step's landing, the unease that plagued Avelor failed to dissipate. This side of the fade's textures and landscapes greatly differed from what he was used to folding and shaping. He had less of a handle here, but his abilities were still present. Raising his hand, he pulled a large slab across the abyss and created a make-shift bridge to another floating boulder. His mark's energy was vague but present once more. He traversed the ethereal expanse via creating paths for himself, only pausing and redirecting if the scent grew weaker.
  
  Then after a final crossing onto a hilly rock-mass, the massive presence could be felt, its glow could even seen through the mountain between Avelor and his target. Without a doubt, it was General Rathana. He scaled the mountainside with ease. Upon reaching its apex, Avelor took a moment, finding his most potent barrier spells and blood magics, and priming them in case of combat. With a deep and unnecessary breath, he peered over the peak.
- Aeyrus staggered back with a grunt as his daughter's figure materialized and fell into his chest mid-council of a dozen advisers and generals. Several drew their weapons or readied their magicks in knee-jerk reaction. When a figure apparates onto the Lord of War, all will assume the worst. The instant Aeryus glimpsed her familiar and disoriented blue eyes, his two honorbound raised their weapons in defiance, phase-stepping in front of their commander and his progeny, ready to recklessly absorb any stray magicks or incoming steel. A steely eyed Elven war-priestess had already cast a fatal bolt aimed for Selene's vitals, albeit with pure intentions of protecting Aeryus. Levi, the red-haired honorbound, fearlessly and knowingly stood in the magick's trajectory. His plate armor did little to prevent the unbridled projectile of energy from ripping through his body. Tyson, the taller elven honorguard, gracefully deflected a crossbow quarry with an upward swing of his blade. Delayed by a fraction of a second, Aeryus summoned a tardy blue bubble around the honorbound, Selene, and Aeryus. The protective sphere absorbed several more knives, axes and magicks, but the unfortunate Levi had already fallen to his knees, aware of and abiding to his pending mortality.
  
  A shrill shriek from Selene and the crash of the lifeless armored body punctuated the otherwise silent war-room. As the threat to Tyson's Lord diminished, his focus turned to his deceased partner, student, and friend. Aeryus' force field retracted and Tyson was by Levi's side in an instant, turning over his fading brethren and cradling the copper-haired guard in his lithe arms. "Tenau brother. This was your time. There are no regrets."
- Near the vista, a Sandy-haired Janus slipped again, dirtying and blooding his hands further. Hyael, his hulking and bearded mentor, quickly ascended, ignoring the sound of the young-one's tumble. It was the wee hours of the morning: birds chirped, the smell of pine was thick in the fog, and the grassy path was slick with dew. The trek was wrought with unstable footholds and steep, uneven inclines, but, according to Hyael, the view was worth it. A determined Janus picked himself up and lunged forward, hoisting himself with the aid of a nearby shrub, onto the stony crest. The back of Janus' hand flew up, shielding his hazel eyes from the dawning sun. A moment of respite and revelation.
  
  From the peak of Mt. Ivernus, Janus struggled to fully appreciate the poly-chromatic cacophony that was the breath-taking landscape of Mineas. Within the confines of the surrounding mountains, rolling hills adorned with reaching trees sprawled throughout the valley. As if drawn by the Goddess Cepha herself, an elegant river gracefully followed a meandering path, splitting the fertile land in two. Near the foot of this mountain and mouth of the river sat his sleepy hometown of Olaine. The straw-thatched rooftops emanated small strings of smoke. In the furthest hovel, to the right of the main gates, Janus' mom was probably preparing a creamy stew of carrots, potatoes, and beef from the local farm. Give him a bowl of mom's stew and a heel of bread, and one may momentarily stave the young man's wanderlust.
  
  Janus' was jerked back into the present as Hyael shouldered his way infront of him. Burly white knuckles gripped the wrapped handle of Hyael's axe; a second hand took it's place near the hilt as the veteran's ears perked to the enclosing sounds of treacherous hoots and hollers.
- The obnoxious thudding bass permeated throughout the block. Location came with perks and just as many drawbacks. The incessant music and ever-present neon lights reverberated and danced on the crumbling walls of the cramped mega-structures. The sound of distant gunshots or laser discharges were not uncommon in this sector, nor were the street-walkers and hoodlums that littered alleyways and street corners. The derelict roads were packed with pedestrians as personal vehicles took to the skies in an attempt to escape the overwhelming crowds and poverty. Texx withdrew from the shadows of a small refuge between two hulking buildings. He readjusted his jet-black trench coat in an attempt to hide his face as he made for and entered the side entrance of Pinque's Tower.
  
  The constant movement and out-take of building vents kept the air of the streets dynamic and moving. However the turbid smell of rotting garbage and death clung to the lobby's degenerative and dim ambiance. To the right of the entrance, a ballistic-glass enclosed reception sat unmanned and covered in neglect. Striding past the reception and the conveniently out-of-order lift, Texx bounded up the concrete, gum-riddled steps, coattails billowing behind him. Several flights of stairs proved to be of little consequence to or worry for his augmented legs. They were replaced with synthetic muscles and hollow carbon, a change necessary for his role as the syndicates runner. But Texx was on a little more than an errand today.
  
  Stopping at the target's door, Texx's right eye swiveled and clicked as thermal detection was activated. 3 figures stood, as one sat helplessly bound to a chair. A violent backhand sent the target reeling and falling to their side as another pointed their rifle threateningly at the victim, shouting obscenities and threats. Stepping to the side, taking cover by the door's frame, Texx drew a 7-shot plasma pistol. A quick calibration and examination of said weapon's magazine told Texx it was now or never. Positioned on the threshold, Texx reared back on one leg, then put all his weight into his lifted foot and in turn the flimsy door's handle. In a flurry of wood chips and mangled locks, Texx's door-breaching foot came to an authoritative stop as it hit the ground. Kneeling, Texx's integrated aiming system (IAS) allowed him to hip fire twice with precision, effectively nullifying targets. All in the same motion, the sights were now lined up with Texx's enhanced eye. A quick switch to manual-targeting subdued the last thug. A howling cry is heard as the plasma indiscriminately made its way through flesh, muscle, and bone. A charred crater now sat where his shoulder used to be.
Fandoms (not in any order of preference):
i) Boku no Hero Acadamia
ii) Final Space
iii) Mass Effect
iv) Dragon Age
v) The Witcher
vi) Star Trek
vii) Star Wars
viii) Final Fantasy (VII, IX, X, XIII)
ix) Rick and Morty
x) Overwatch

I'm sure there's more.
Even if I haven't seen a series, if your writing and knowledge is up to snuff, I will read wiki's, watch summaries, and delve into characters.
Since the world is already built and fleshed out, the onus falls onto the RPers to write well and do their research. Even if the RP occurs in a region or city not quite explored by said series or franchise, the RP should still adhere to the general rules, consequences, and tone of the Fandom.
Sort of in an order, but not really. Open to others.
Combine, mix&match:
a) Sci-fi*
b) Fantasy
c) Politics and Intrigue
d) Romance and/or Friendships
e) Action & Adventure
f) Dark/ mature themes, Eg: the darker side of the human psyche and behavior
g) Magical and/or super powers
h) Harems/ Reverse Harems
i) Suspense/ Mystery/ Crime
j) Epic and/or world-building-centric
*Craving any form of it

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Sephus

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