[F4A] Accursed. Defiant. Together.

Many years ago, under the red light of a fell star, the town of Ossk burned someone they called a monster. Sentenced to the bonfire for heresy and enchantment, they called the murder justice. With its last cries, it cursed the town and its people. Cursed the country that had vilified it and the world that had doomed it.

The time has come. The curse comes due.

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Are you looking for a mid to long-term dark, romantic fantasy? Together, we'll both build the world, invent lore, and introduce conflict. The story's core should be compelling drama, action, and romance as our two outsiders stare down a hostile world together. And yes, we're going to include plenty of hot, creative smut.

Let's tell a story about two young adults who, by simple parentage or something more mystical, have come of age to find themselves different... marked. As their neighbours turn on them, whether they like it or not, our characters now symbolise an old threat to Ossk. They are the great scions of some dark power, but they will not surrender to the pyre. Together they will claim their legacy, and rewrite their fate. Together they will survive.

My kinks: I like to keep my options open. There are lots of things that are a "yes" to me at almost all times, and a limited set of things that are always a "no". The core of my kinks is creativity and passion. Chances are if you're into it, I'll indulge.

My limits: Child abuse, a focus on unwashed characters or especially unhygeinic acts like scat, or cartoonishly unrealistic/hyper sizes.

About me: Please have a look at my DPP profile for plenty more, including my kink list.

If this hits the right notes for you, reach out. Come share what comes to mind, and let's chat! The one thing I ask you to include in your introductory message is this: what form does their mark take?

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"You feel it do, don't you?" my eyes shine as they meet yours. My face is a mask of concern. It imperfectly hides the deep, primal vulnerability that has been building since the mark began to show. Since things began to be different. Since they began to treat us as different.

"I have thought about the old story. I think we are his curse, you and I." The words are soft, but the meaning behind them is clear. At once, something in me tells me to reach over, to take your hand. I fight the urge. This has to be as scary for you as it is for me. Driving you away — you, who are perhaps the only other person in all of creation who can truly empathise with me in this moment — terrifies me more than the events of the past week.

"How long before they see it too?"

I look away, down, unable to set the next thought aside. The words spill out, unbidden.

"How long before we join him in the ashes?"