sawyerface
art by alien_rat on twitter
Craving: currently full up on roleplays for the time being. Once I settle in on my current role plays, I will open up again! Ty for your patience and interest!
About Me
- I'm 27, so please be above 18, though I'd prefer you to be older than 21.
- I got by she/he and consider myself nonbinary.
- I'm a Chatty Cathy, so I tend to like to try and talk a lot, I hope that's alright.
- I consider myself literate, but I like to relax and keep posts around 500-ish words.
- Speaking of relaxed, I treat role playing like a hobby, and don't want to turn it into a job.
- I prefer canon/oc, but will do canon/canon role plays.
- I prefer m// and f/m pairings, but will also do f//, so long as I play as the canon character.
- I try to post at least once a week, so if you could do the same, that'd be nice.
Harry Potter: Marauder's Era
Looking For: Sirius, Remus
Can Play: Anyone, can also do canon x canon pairings.
Interested In: Playing an OC.
Twilight
Looking For; Jasper, Edward, Caius, Marcus
Can Play: Anyone, can also do canon x canon pairings.
Interested In: Playing an OC, playing Harry Potter vs Jasper or Edward.
Samples
When Vincent thought about time travel, the only thing to come to mind was time turners and Doctor Who; a muggle show he watched, if only to spite Lucius for enjoying muggle things. Yet at some point during his sixth year Dumbledore called him into his office and started on this long, inane spiel about time travel and how it would benefit the entire wizarding world if he and this other girl—Zee—went back in time. Vincent—in his usual way of not thinking before opening his big, fat mouth—immediately was on board. While he had loose friendships with everyone, not a lot of people would miss him. Perhaps Fred and George might miss him, but they were literal twins and had each other, he was more like a third wheel most of the time. Not that he minded—really—and he half expected the two to not be his friend just due to the fact that his name was Malfoy.
Vincent Narcissus Malfoy—the supposed brother of Draco Lucius Malfoy—just before he traveled back in time to the point where he wouldn’t be able to see any of his family or friends was told that he was in fact not a Malfoy.Of course, before the whole finding out about not being a Malfoy, Vincent had many questions.
“So we go back, change time, then what if we’re not born?”
“The timeline will change, this future won't exist.” Dumbledore had answered in his usual genial, grandfatherly tone that Vince—used to—liked.
“What about the timeline, now?” Vince had asked while playing with the sleeves of his uniform and looked over to the other girl there. If he recalled, she was a Ravenclaw named Zarina and had a heap of rumors about her. Vince never really bothered himself with rumors, especially after Blaise Zabini was rumored to be the one he lost his virginity to. While Vince might have liked that, it wasn’t true.
“It will slowly stop existing the more changes you make.”
“That’s… a lot of responsibility to give to two sixteen year olds…” Vince mumbled out as he shifted on his two feet while trying to think if agreeing to go back in time was such a good idea all of a sudden.
“I’m quite sure about who I picked in all of this. Zarina, while quiet, is a young woman with amazing potential and a keen eye. You, Vincent, know how to draw in a crowd and get people to trust you easily. You both balance each other out and I feel with you two going, we have some more hope in this world.” Dumbledore explained and Vince finally decided that yes, he would still go back in time.
Even if it meant he’d never see the current Narcissa, who he’d miss terribly. This way he might give her a better life with a warmer husband than that dull, sneering bastard she called a husband.
Actually, Vince had totally been on board, until that last bit about him not being a Malfoy was mentioned.
In fact, just before the spell was set to activate and everything he knew and loved would disappear, Dumbledore had leaned over and whispered a little tidbit he hadn’t wanted to hear.
“Severus Snape is your biological father, I was hoping that you might lead him back on a better path than the one he went down.” Is what Albus—too many f-cking names—Dumbledore had said just before there was a blinding flash and Vince had landed flat on his ass.
So upon seeing a younger—and decidedly more ginger—Dumbledore, Vincent had hit him with the best Jelly Leg Jinx he could muster and used plenty of pretty words to “compliment” Dumbledore.Upon hearing Zarina’s comment, Vincent rolled his eyes and huffed.
“Snape’s my f-cking dad. Dumbledore just dropped that big stinkin’ load of information on me just before the spell finished. He expects me to try and help Snape somehow!” Vince waved his arms wildly around him, as though it would emphasize his point instead of making him look downright mad. Either way, he didn’t care. He was absolutely irritated. When he first had gone to Potions class, he assumed he’d like his teacher like the rest of his teachers—minus Binns, but that was simply because the ghost was dreadfully boring—but instead he was singled out. He wasn’t the only student singled out, and when Vincent looked to himself and Harry at the time, he could only see that they both had green eyes and figured Snape hated green eyes. Until he noticed the older man being completely neutral towards another green eyed student, so Vincent really couldn’t figure out why the teacher hated him so.
Now it made sense why the Dungeon Bat was so awful to him. It wasn’t like he had asked to have such a dreadful father. One who must’ve dropped him off at the Malfoy Manor and just left!
“Dumbledore is lucky I don’t find kid Snape and strangle him myself. Like… I loved living with the Malfoys, if only for Narcissa seeing as both Lucius and Draco are—were? Will be? —awful prats.” Vincent snorted as he ran a hand through his curly two-toned blond and brown hair. Dumbledore was probably lucky that all he got was a Jelly Leg Jinx as Vincent wanted to do much, much worse to the old git.
Just as Vincent was about to pull at his hair he noticed an odd mark on his wrist that hadn’t been there before. He pulled the sleeve of his own baggy flannel underneath a short sleeved hoodie and gasped loudly. His mark—the mark that had always simply been half of a star and the front of a dog running beneath it—was now whole. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or be happy or even if he wanted to do both. He reached to scratch at the mark with a chipped blue painted nail and saw that yes, the mark was real and not disappearing. It was there, on his skin and it wasn’t moving one bit.
“Right… dorms… yeah…” Vincent’s response was rather airy, but he couldn’t quite take his eyes away from the completed mark on his wrist. Part of him wanted to hide it and deny what he had seen. Another part of him wanted to know why now of all times did his soulmark appear? Was he always meant to come back in time? If not, then would he have ever met his soulmate? Maybe they had died during the war, so he never got to meet him.
“Honestly, I think we can. You’ve got amazing brains and I’m apparently the people person in all this… uhh… no offense. The future is pretty much ours to forge. Dumbledore has most of the back breaking work to do, assuming the papers we gave him said anything. I think we’re mostly here to just make sure Harry doesn’t have to grow up an orphan.” Vince shrugged as he pulled at one of the many ringlets on his forehead, then paused for a moment.
“Not like we can go back if we can’t do it.” Vincent pointed out before letting out a long groan. He had a lot to think about and not a lot of time to think about it, he felt.
Vincent Narcissus Malfoy—the supposed brother of Draco Lucius Malfoy—just before he traveled back in time to the point where he wouldn’t be able to see any of his family or friends was told that he was in fact not a Malfoy.Of course, before the whole finding out about not being a Malfoy, Vincent had many questions.
“So we go back, change time, then what if we’re not born?”
“The timeline will change, this future won't exist.” Dumbledore had answered in his usual genial, grandfatherly tone that Vince—used to—liked.
“What about the timeline, now?” Vince had asked while playing with the sleeves of his uniform and looked over to the other girl there. If he recalled, she was a Ravenclaw named Zarina and had a heap of rumors about her. Vince never really bothered himself with rumors, especially after Blaise Zabini was rumored to be the one he lost his virginity to. While Vince might have liked that, it wasn’t true.
“It will slowly stop existing the more changes you make.”
“That’s… a lot of responsibility to give to two sixteen year olds…” Vince mumbled out as he shifted on his two feet while trying to think if agreeing to go back in time was such a good idea all of a sudden.
“I’m quite sure about who I picked in all of this. Zarina, while quiet, is a young woman with amazing potential and a keen eye. You, Vincent, know how to draw in a crowd and get people to trust you easily. You both balance each other out and I feel with you two going, we have some more hope in this world.” Dumbledore explained and Vince finally decided that yes, he would still go back in time.
Even if it meant he’d never see the current Narcissa, who he’d miss terribly. This way he might give her a better life with a warmer husband than that dull, sneering bastard she called a husband.
Actually, Vince had totally been on board, until that last bit about him not being a Malfoy was mentioned.
In fact, just before the spell was set to activate and everything he knew and loved would disappear, Dumbledore had leaned over and whispered a little tidbit he hadn’t wanted to hear.
“Severus Snape is your biological father, I was hoping that you might lead him back on a better path than the one he went down.” Is what Albus—too many f-cking names—Dumbledore had said just before there was a blinding flash and Vince had landed flat on his ass.
So upon seeing a younger—and decidedly more ginger—Dumbledore, Vincent had hit him with the best Jelly Leg Jinx he could muster and used plenty of pretty words to “compliment” Dumbledore.Upon hearing Zarina’s comment, Vincent rolled his eyes and huffed.
“Snape’s my f-cking dad. Dumbledore just dropped that big stinkin’ load of information on me just before the spell finished. He expects me to try and help Snape somehow!” Vince waved his arms wildly around him, as though it would emphasize his point instead of making him look downright mad. Either way, he didn’t care. He was absolutely irritated. When he first had gone to Potions class, he assumed he’d like his teacher like the rest of his teachers—minus Binns, but that was simply because the ghost was dreadfully boring—but instead he was singled out. He wasn’t the only student singled out, and when Vincent looked to himself and Harry at the time, he could only see that they both had green eyes and figured Snape hated green eyes. Until he noticed the older man being completely neutral towards another green eyed student, so Vincent really couldn’t figure out why the teacher hated him so.
Now it made sense why the Dungeon Bat was so awful to him. It wasn’t like he had asked to have such a dreadful father. One who must’ve dropped him off at the Malfoy Manor and just left!
“Dumbledore is lucky I don’t find kid Snape and strangle him myself. Like… I loved living with the Malfoys, if only for Narcissa seeing as both Lucius and Draco are—were? Will be? —awful prats.” Vincent snorted as he ran a hand through his curly two-toned blond and brown hair. Dumbledore was probably lucky that all he got was a Jelly Leg Jinx as Vincent wanted to do much, much worse to the old git.
Just as Vincent was about to pull at his hair he noticed an odd mark on his wrist that hadn’t been there before. He pulled the sleeve of his own baggy flannel underneath a short sleeved hoodie and gasped loudly. His mark—the mark that had always simply been half of a star and the front of a dog running beneath it—was now whole. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or be happy or even if he wanted to do both. He reached to scratch at the mark with a chipped blue painted nail and saw that yes, the mark was real and not disappearing. It was there, on his skin and it wasn’t moving one bit.
“Right… dorms… yeah…” Vincent’s response was rather airy, but he couldn’t quite take his eyes away from the completed mark on his wrist. Part of him wanted to hide it and deny what he had seen. Another part of him wanted to know why now of all times did his soulmark appear? Was he always meant to come back in time? If not, then would he have ever met his soulmate? Maybe they had died during the war, so he never got to meet him.
“Honestly, I think we can. You’ve got amazing brains and I’m apparently the people person in all this… uhh… no offense. The future is pretty much ours to forge. Dumbledore has most of the back breaking work to do, assuming the papers we gave him said anything. I think we’re mostly here to just make sure Harry doesn’t have to grow up an orphan.” Vince shrugged as he pulled at one of the many ringlets on his forehead, then paused for a moment.
“Not like we can go back if we can’t do it.” Vincent pointed out before letting out a long groan. He had a lot to think about and not a lot of time to think about it, he felt.
Harry let out a long, exhausted sigh as he stared at his new home with a complicated expression.
He felt a bit bad having just picked up all his belongings and moving somewhere without so much as a word to anyone, but he couldn’t take the stares of everyone. Even after twenty one years since the war had finished, he still had to deal with people staring at him. Not to mention that he had to set up a brand new post for himself simply due to all of the cursed items sent his way and from the sheer amount of love potions he received as well.
Existing as the Boy-Who-Lived was exhausting, so he packed up his home and left. Though he knew it wouldn’t put people off for too long—his friends were tenacious, if nothing else—and he did not doubt that Molly would send a Howler to him if he didn’t write.
It had been about a week since he had arrived in this small, dinky town that hardly had anything to put it on the map other than it being named after a utensil. How Harry ended up here was with the throw of two darts. One dart that landed in America, and the next in Forks and with that he whisked himself away from the hustle and bustle of Wizarding London. He actually liked the forest around Forks, as well as how quiet everything was.
Unfortunately he made himself much younger than he actually was—thirty seven, by the way—so he could stay for however long he was wanting to hide for. People would find him eventually, but for now he could be satisfied with just being the new kid.
The new kid who joined a month into school, which meant there were plenty of stares, which he hated. Eventually it would pass, and the teenagers would go about living their own lives and leave him alone. Unfortunately for Harry, he was an attractive young man, which meant that as he passed from class to class on his very first day, people—mostly teen girls, some teen boys—looked at him with barely disguised lust. It disgusted Harry because these were children and he was actually nearing his forties. He would not ever consider dating any of these folks, so it was better for them to dream.
Even Harry didn’t need Legilimency to know what they were thinking when they looked at him. If age wasn’t an issue, there was another issue instead; Harry was hopelessly gay. Maybe he hadn’t realized it at first, but he most certainly realized it by now. After his failed attempted-relationship with Cho and his other more “serious” attempt at a relationship with Ginny both failed, he did a lot of thinking. Then he realized he liked men—or at least those who were masculine presenting—and did not actually like women.
Harry groaned and ran his slender fingers through his messy, dark hair. He needed to get to class and couldn’t drive there as he had woken up late. Deciding to f-ck all of the consequences, Harry simply apparated into the forest a ways away from school, lit a cigarette, and walked towards the school.
If he recalled from his very first day, despite him being new, it didn’t get him out of doing projects, and he had a partner project he needed to work on in AP American History which was just lovely—though it really wasn’t, Harry just wanted to be left alone. Thankfully, most of the other projects—for the classes that had projects, anyway—were projects he could do by himself.
As Harry stepped onto the campus, he was already half-way into his cigarette, which meant he probably had about another five minutes to waste before needing to get to class. He pointedly ignored any and all the stares sent his way—as well as the brush against his Occlumency shields—and finished his cigarette. He put it out on the bottom of his chucks and walked into the school. Hopefully today there would be less stares, but judging from the way Lauren was ogling him, he sincerely doubted his hopes would be answered.
He felt a bit bad having just picked up all his belongings and moving somewhere without so much as a word to anyone, but he couldn’t take the stares of everyone. Even after twenty one years since the war had finished, he still had to deal with people staring at him. Not to mention that he had to set up a brand new post for himself simply due to all of the cursed items sent his way and from the sheer amount of love potions he received as well.
Existing as the Boy-Who-Lived was exhausting, so he packed up his home and left. Though he knew it wouldn’t put people off for too long—his friends were tenacious, if nothing else—and he did not doubt that Molly would send a Howler to him if he didn’t write.
It had been about a week since he had arrived in this small, dinky town that hardly had anything to put it on the map other than it being named after a utensil. How Harry ended up here was with the throw of two darts. One dart that landed in America, and the next in Forks and with that he whisked himself away from the hustle and bustle of Wizarding London. He actually liked the forest around Forks, as well as how quiet everything was.
Unfortunately he made himself much younger than he actually was—thirty seven, by the way—so he could stay for however long he was wanting to hide for. People would find him eventually, but for now he could be satisfied with just being the new kid.
The new kid who joined a month into school, which meant there were plenty of stares, which he hated. Eventually it would pass, and the teenagers would go about living their own lives and leave him alone. Unfortunately for Harry, he was an attractive young man, which meant that as he passed from class to class on his very first day, people—mostly teen girls, some teen boys—looked at him with barely disguised lust. It disgusted Harry because these were children and he was actually nearing his forties. He would not ever consider dating any of these folks, so it was better for them to dream.
Even Harry didn’t need Legilimency to know what they were thinking when they looked at him. If age wasn’t an issue, there was another issue instead; Harry was hopelessly gay. Maybe he hadn’t realized it at first, but he most certainly realized it by now. After his failed attempted-relationship with Cho and his other more “serious” attempt at a relationship with Ginny both failed, he did a lot of thinking. Then he realized he liked men—or at least those who were masculine presenting—and did not actually like women.
Harry groaned and ran his slender fingers through his messy, dark hair. He needed to get to class and couldn’t drive there as he had woken up late. Deciding to f-ck all of the consequences, Harry simply apparated into the forest a ways away from school, lit a cigarette, and walked towards the school.
If he recalled from his very first day, despite him being new, it didn’t get him out of doing projects, and he had a partner project he needed to work on in AP American History which was just lovely—though it really wasn’t, Harry just wanted to be left alone. Thankfully, most of the other projects—for the classes that had projects, anyway—were projects he could do by himself.
As Harry stepped onto the campus, he was already half-way into his cigarette, which meant he probably had about another five minutes to waste before needing to get to class. He pointedly ignored any and all the stares sent his way—as well as the brush against his Occlumency shields—and finished his cigarette. He put it out on the bottom of his chucks and walked into the school. Hopefully today there would be less stares, but judging from the way Lauren was ogling him, he sincerely doubted his hopes would be answered.
Remus felt wrecked as he usually did after the full moon. Before the full moon he was just more easily irritated and nervous, but after the full moon he felt like he’d been tossed about like a troll. He was always thankful for his friends who instead of pushing him away after finding out, had decided to learn how to become an animagus to join him when he turned. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he would do without Sirius, James, and Peter. If not for them, he had been entirely prepared to just spend his entire time at Hogwarts in complete and utter solitude. Sometimes he had to fight with himself about that though. Push those who dared to get close away from him so they won't get hurt. So he won't get hurt when they inevitably found out because they got too close and ran far away from him.
While the whole reason he was able to go to Hogwarts was so long as he kept silent about being a werewolf, he still couldn’t stop Sirius, James, and Peter from finding out. He had dreaded that moment and almost considered the feeling of expected rejection worse than turning each and every month. He really and truly loathed being a werewolf, but somehow the company of his friends made things far easier for him.
Remus was half passed out with a book in his lap while he tried to get his mind off of the residual pain that came with the change. Even if he did manage to find some sleep, it wouldn’t last with all the pain he was in. Somehow, he expected his current pain level to rival the Crucio curse, but he never really wanted to find out.
“Hmm?” Remus slowly perked his head upwards towards his best friend Sirius, green eyes narrowing a moment before opening again. He looked as though he’d gone through the Whomping Willow, he’d bet.
“Fine, fine, I’m up.” Remus let out a long sigh and closed the book he’d been reading—something about Magic History to keep his mind from the pain he was in—and just as he was about to sit up, Sirius made his way over to him with the map.
While there had been no announcements about new kids joining Hogwarts that year, he was still somewhat curious as to what Sirius might’ve seen. Transfers weren’t entirely unheard of, just really uncommon. Perhaps they weren’t transfers, but Aurors visiting concerning the attacks that had been happening all around Magical England. Remus certainly hoped it was the first option, as the second option made those attacks a very real possibility.
“Did you catch the last names? Though we ought to be careful, it could be Aurors or someone from the Ministry meeting for some reason.” Remus pointed out while looking over the map before catching two names next to each other.
“These names here, is it them?” Remus pointed at the two walking next to each other in a less explored bit of the castle. In fact, it looked to be near the old prefect dorms. Remus actually would’ve liked it if the Heads of the house and Prefects had their own dorms, if only to have his own dorm after a full moon. Not that he disliked his friends, but Peter snored like the Hogwarts Train.
While the whole reason he was able to go to Hogwarts was so long as he kept silent about being a werewolf, he still couldn’t stop Sirius, James, and Peter from finding out. He had dreaded that moment and almost considered the feeling of expected rejection worse than turning each and every month. He really and truly loathed being a werewolf, but somehow the company of his friends made things far easier for him.
Remus was half passed out with a book in his lap while he tried to get his mind off of the residual pain that came with the change. Even if he did manage to find some sleep, it wouldn’t last with all the pain he was in. Somehow, he expected his current pain level to rival the Crucio curse, but he never really wanted to find out.
“Hmm?” Remus slowly perked his head upwards towards his best friend Sirius, green eyes narrowing a moment before opening again. He looked as though he’d gone through the Whomping Willow, he’d bet.
“Fine, fine, I’m up.” Remus let out a long sigh and closed the book he’d been reading—something about Magic History to keep his mind from the pain he was in—and just as he was about to sit up, Sirius made his way over to him with the map.
While there had been no announcements about new kids joining Hogwarts that year, he was still somewhat curious as to what Sirius might’ve seen. Transfers weren’t entirely unheard of, just really uncommon. Perhaps they weren’t transfers, but Aurors visiting concerning the attacks that had been happening all around Magical England. Remus certainly hoped it was the first option, as the second option made those attacks a very real possibility.
“Did you catch the last names? Though we ought to be careful, it could be Aurors or someone from the Ministry meeting for some reason.” Remus pointed out while looking over the map before catching two names next to each other.
“These names here, is it them?” Remus pointed at the two walking next to each other in a less explored bit of the castle. In fact, it looked to be near the old prefect dorms. Remus actually would’ve liked it if the Heads of the house and Prefects had their own dorms, if only to have his own dorm after a full moon. Not that he disliked his friends, but Peter snored like the Hogwarts Train.
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