RolePlayer.me

Suguru Getou / Jjk Two Roads MM Post from @shakeitoff Tokyo was always beautiful this time of year. The grounds of Tokyo Jujutsu High were full of flowering buds and innocent animals with the desperate curiosity to know what these children were learning. Granted Suguru Getou wasn't exactly a child but he wasn't a fully recognized sorcerer as of yet. He stood by himself next to the bright yellow petals of the kiku that he gently caressed with his extended digits. Most outside of Japan associate cherry blossoms with their country. The whole thing amused Getou to a rather large degree. Getou was a young man of considerable height. He was dressed neatly in his school uniform with a fresh crispness about it. The lengthy sable strands of his hair spilled down his shoulders and along his spine. He was one of two leading sorcerers at the school at this time. There was a team of four at the time but everyone knew that it was between him and his best friend Satoru Gojo. Getou and his collection of cursed spirits were far superior to the general sorcerer. Even the other two that were often in his and Gojo's company couldn't hope to be on their level any time soon. Yet Getou fell short.Gojo often wore sunglasses to hide his eyes and with good reason. His eyes were the color of heaven itself. It was the Six Eyes that came along ever so often in his sorcerer clan. This meant that this arrogant little prick was the most powerful sorcerer in a generation. Getou could never hope to be on his level but he was damn close. If not for Gojo he would have been the absolute best. Instead he had to play second string to Satoru Gojo. Where was the equity in that? The answer was simple. There was none. Oh there was nothing wrong with playing second to Gojo. Getou and Gojo got along famously. They were even best friends. Although considering how well the two knew each other, Getou and Gojo were like brothers. They were inseparable. It was actually why he was waiting here for his brother. The obnoxious little warthog with the most beautiful eyes in all of Japan was late. Getou was going to have to save his ass again. A stitch of stress passed behind Getou's left eye letting it give a slight twitch. Gojo was going to have to learn to stand on his own soon. Getou's path was turning in a different direction. He could already see it just beyond the proverbial next bend. It was still soon enough that maybe he didn't have to walk it alone.Getou brought the brilliant yellow petals closer to his nose so he could inhale the scent. He had been hidden away from nearly everyone as the most stygian thoughts began to overtake his mind. Sorcerers were dying for a world that did not know they existed. Not only were the youth or the sorcerers in training dying, established sorcerers were wiped out on a daily basis. The ignorant monkeys who were not sorcerers had no clue of the world of cursed energy and curses in general. They were unseen and out of mind. Yet the duty of the Jujutsu Sorcerer was to protect them with their life if necessary. The majority of Sorcerers were in Japan. A handful existed beyond their country. It was Getou's decision that he would find them all no matter how long it took. The minutes he spent waiting for Gojo were beginning to stretch to hours. The tension and anxiety of this decision was beginning to exact a toll on him. He pulled the kiku blossom and left the petals torn to bits on the ground before him. Gojo was everything to him. It was becoming painfully obvious he was going to have to walk away from his brother. The continued heightened thoughts that had taken root in Getou's mind were fervently in place. His decision had been made. Their paths were about to diverge.All Getou could do now was mourn the glory that could have been with them both side by side. He was going to have a new family now and Gojo would not be a part of it. Getou ceased his waiting and turned in the direction of a path away from the school and away from Gojo. The wind began to whip around as Suguru Getou left the campus as a student. The once beautiful cloudy sky had parted and the rain began to fall.I shall be telling this with a sighSomewhere ages and ages hence:Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,And that has made all the difference.  credit: james kriet

  •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅FINALLY FREE | DRABBLE # 2!Trigger Warnings: Torture, Blood.Word Count: 364•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅My father must have told my cousin about the beatings and the way he handled me. Upon our marriage, my cousin came into the shack and beat me, until I bled. Then he ordered me to clean up and get dressed. I obeyed and with my mother's help I was dressed - for my wedding. A wedding I had no say in, no right to speak out against it, and even if I did, my father would just force it. Beating me afterwards for daring to defy his command. I remained silent except for the speaking parts in the ceremony. I was married to my cousin. He was now the heir to the throne; I was to be his Queen-Consort. I would only act as Queen, when he wasn't around. Other than that? I was nothing, but a pretty face next to the King. Or rather Future King. I had moved in with my 'Husband' and was now to serve him. I should have been the Queen and he, My Consort, but it wasn't to be so. I was stuck once more in the role of being a servant. Though I was not just a mere servant no more, but a Queen, I still had to obey my husband and my father.A few weeks after my 'marriage', my father disappeared and my 'husband' was crowned king. A few days after that, my king/husband sold me to another vampire Lord, and made me marry him. I was stripped of my title and forced back to being nothing more than a servant. A month or so later, my 'husband' disappeared, and I was finally free. I waited and asked around for him - acting like the concerned wife, everyone expected me to be. It appeared after a few weeks of no news that my 'husband' was gone, dead even. I was finally free, 2000 + years of suffering, it  had finally ended. I ended up gathering what I could put in a bag, and left the house for a ship.I stowed away on it, months later, I stepped on the docks of New Orleans, Louisiana, now in the year of 2024, and my new life began.   template credit.

  •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅FATHER'S NIGHTLY RITUAL | DRABBLE # 1!Trigger Warnings: Torture, Blood.Word Count: 633•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅I hurried down the dimly lit corridor. The King, my father, wanted to see me. Why? I asked myself as I climbed down the stairs in a corridor and rounded it to his chambers. I stopped at the door and raised my hand to knock. A sudden noise of a cape swooshing, behind me and the bottom of a spear hitting the stone floor, told me that a guard was right behind me.  I sighed heavily inward, hoping that I wouldn't be in trouble or get hit, for being at the door of the king's chambers. I slowly turned around and faced the Guards. "The King wished for my appearance." I told them with a bow to them. I moved away from the door and behind them, as they advanced on the door, and knocked themselves. A dark and deep voice sounded inside. "Let her in." The guards opened the door, and I gathered up my tattered clothes, and made my way into my father's room. "You wish to see me, Your Majesty." I whispered as I bowed to my father. "I did." He said with a sharp tone, as he sighed and walked up to me. A rough and hard hand, reached under my chin and lifted my face forcing me to face him. I looked down, not daring to look at him. I wanted to but knew that I was never to look at my King without his permission. I stayed looking down as he told me that I was to wed one of my cousins and that it should be an honor that he was allowing me to remain in the royal family, even though I was a bastard. I said nothing as he told me this. He let my head go and I tilted it downward, in a bow. A sudden, snapping sound and then a loud CRACK, then the sting of pain ran up my back as my father whipped me. It was his daily ritual every night. Taunt me and then torture me, to remind me that I was nothing, a bitch that served her father needs and wants when he wanted it. I bit my lower lip as the whip continued to hit my back. I knelt on the ground on my left knee, my head bowed in surrender, as he continued to beat me. A few minutes more, I felt the blood. Blood from the cracked skin, the sharp glass that had dug into my skin and began to rip it open. I would have cried out in pain, but I was numbed to it, by now. The many nights since I was 10 years old, was ended with beating until I bleed. I had learned to numb myself to it, to distance myself from the pain. One more hard CRACK and the beatings stopped. My Father poured water on it, I dug my teeth into my lower lip, drawing blood at the pain. My body shook from the pain, and then ...Knock, Knock...."Saved by the door!" My father whispered as he grabbed me and lifted me up. Forcing me to stand, he stripped off all my clothes and forced me to leave the room, butt naked. I opened the door to see my cousin on the other side. As he saw me, he smirked and I bowed, painfully at him as he entered passing me to speak with my father. At a snap of my father's fingers, I quickly left his chambers and hurried through the corridor - at a run, until I came to the shack that my mother and I shared, outside the castle. I ignored the stares of the villagers and guards, simply ran into my home and collapsed into the arms of my mother and sobbed until I fell asleep. •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅   template credit.

where the— neon lives Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris luctus pulvinar augue accumsan pretium. Cras imperdiet nulla sit amet leo sagittis, vel varius est vestibulum. Nam sodales ante at odio semper fermentum. Phasellus suscipit nec ex efficitur ullamcorper. Vestibulum at ultricies quam. Nulla in neque scelerisque, facilisis arcu vitae, vestibulum erat. Sed vitae dolor urna. Integer commodo nunc tempus ligula cursus ultricies. Sed fringilla sem et erat aliquet consectetur. Donec quis metus neque. Aliquam in porttitor libero, ut tristique nisi. Ut mauris risus, dapibus eu mauris sed, maximus vehicula erat. Ut finibus vel purus et venenatis. Nam metus mauris, facilisis in purus ac, elementum tincidunt ipsum. Phasellus et congue lorem. Curabitur tempor eget nibh sed luctus. Aenean sed egestas lorem. Fusce ornare faucibus elit eget blandit. Integer vel nibh vel augue egestas scelerisque. Nullam metus quam, elementum in ligula eu, tincidunt venenatis orci. Vivamus dignissim justo quis eros suscipit imperdiet. Phasellus id lobortis tortor. Fusce ullamcorper venenatis vehicula. Etiam ac euismod justo. Quisque condimentum nibh quis bibendum lacinia. Duis condimentum augue at vestibulum laoreet. Praesent risus mi, vulputate sit amet luctus vel, commodo id lacus. Phasellus turpis ante, elementum in lectus nec, tincidunt faucibus dolor. Vestibulum ac erat vel neque sagittis mollis ac et odio. put a quote here or something

But cruelty for no other reason than to be cruel? I don’t like it. I’m forever collecting strays…Bruce and I have that in common, I guess. In a way, we collected each other.Once again, Selina Kyle had unknowingly channeled the ghosts of Alfred’s lived experiences. He would have preferred to disregard further proof of how he’d misjudged her capacity for self-reflection, but collecting strays was indeed an accurate summation of young Bruce Wayne’s innate compassion. The deep well of the boy’s natural empathy, from what his legal guardian had observed throughout the first decade of Bruce’s life, surpassed even the perceived altruism of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Witnessing their murders had only intensified Bruce’s burning desire to help others, a trait Alfred did admire about his charge.That same trait could also be a source of contention between the billionaire orphan and his butler. Despite the ugliness of humanity exposed to him at an early age, the resilient Bruce Wayne still had much to learn about the world, and about trust. Serving as Bruce’s conscience through it all, Alfred Pennyworth frequently found himself questioning the lad’s reckless, impulsive decisions and lack of proper judgment.But Alfred himself had been a stray once. Thomas Wayne collected him, too.Collecting strays.She described that perfectly.Admitting such truth to Selina Kyle was as much off the table for Alfred as envisioning a time when the streetwise pickpocket and butler would come to view one another as actual friends. Showing a little kindness in her young life was one thing; she also needed structure, discipline and a strong nudge toward redemption. Alfred certainly hadn’t signed up to raise two special youngsters, after decades of purposely avoiding parenthood like the plague. Selina was not his responsibility. He’d do well to ignore the pangs of paternal instinct she awakened within him.Constantly checking his trousers and waistcoat for any missing valuables after being in her company wasn’t something he particularly relished, either. Alfred had done that very thing as they’d stepped out of the precinct, a sympathetic nod given to Jim Gordon once Alfred’s hands swept over his own pockets.He didn’t care at all for the subtle revelation that Salina was spying on Bruce’s interactions at school. If Alfred asked her to, that would, of course, be entirely different. Without his or Bruce’s prior knowledge, however, Alfred considered the invasion of privacy to be gross overstepping and a violation of personal boundaries.“Your interest in Master Bruce’s friendships and other matters that do not actually concern you is duly noted, Miss Kyle,” Alfred snapped, not bothering to repeat the name of Mayor Galavan’s niece in his refined Cockney that was, unbeknownst to Selina, far from posh. He couldn’t quite shake the nagging suspicion that something wasn’t quite right about Silver McCloud, the pretty blonde rich girl who in recent days rendered Bruce starry-eyed and distracted. Reflecting upon it months later, Alfred would curse himself for somehow allowing Galavan’s nefarious plan for Bruce Wayne and all of Gotham to fly under his radar.“As is your penchant for dropping from walls or breaking and entering as a means of avoiding proper interactions with other people.”Not responding to the reprimand, Selina instead steered the conversation back to his offer of breakfast. Suddenly she was cozying up to him with the sweetest of smiles and an arm linked around the sleeve of his suit jacket. The girl must have been starving, shedding all the brass and swagger to accept the offer of a meal in Alfred Pennyworth’s kitchen. She’d insulted his culinary gifts in the past as being too posh for her simpler taste, but now?Your cooking ain’t so bad, Jeeves. You can teach me how to make one of those Key-she things.“Right, then.” Blinking down at the new-and-improved-got-manners-for-a-fleeting-moment Selina Kyle hanging on his arm, Alfred made a mental note to recheck his pockets as he escorted her to the Rolls-Royce parked outside the GCPD. “If I can manage to get some proper food down at least one of you today, I shall take that as a win.”When they reached the car, Alfred dutifully tended to the opening of her door and made certain she was properly ensconced in the passenger seat before slipping behind the wheel. The luxury coupe, with its gunmetal exterior, four bucket seats with massage options for the front and exceptional air suspension for a smoother ride, was the sort of travel to which Alfred Pennyworth had become accustomed during his employment at Wayne Manor. But his childhood had more closely resembled Selina’s than Bruce’s in terms of transportation and finances.At least I wasn’t an orphan. But he might as well have been, if not for his dear old mum making up for all that his old man lacked.Expertly navigating the rolls through the bustling maze of downtown Gotham, Alfred pointedly avoided switching on the stereo. While he enjoyed making use of the car’s eighteen speakers for streaming his BBC programs or the occasional classical and classic rock stations, he didn’t fancy an argument with Selina over musical tastes while driving. The purr of the engine served as the soundtrack for their travels, an awkward silence occasionally interrupted by a growled oh bloody hell whenever some inattentive driver failed to use turn signals or ran a red light.Keeping to the speed limit, taking care to keep them both safe on the road, the butler’s temper threatened to show itself more than once with the idiots in traffic, indicating he could switch into another gear just as easily as the rolls should the need present itself.All the while, Alfred’s mind kept returning to Selina’s appearance, the circles under her eyes, the dismissive comments about her living conditions. He remembered viewing Reggie’s broken body after Selina pushed the deadly old turncoat out of a window to his death. He thought of Martha Wayne and her commitment to improving the lives of young girls at the Wayward House. Selina never had the fortune of meeting Bruce’s late mother, hearing only of Martha’s kindnesses later from the other girls. The memory of Selina’s description of those stories brought a deep frown to Alfred’s brow.The girl was clearly quite clever, having survived the violent streets of Gotham City mostly on her own. Alfred knew from their personal interactions that she possessed a keen intelligence. And in the past two days, he discovered she observed more about human behavior on a deeper level than he ever gave her credit for. Why didn’t her path cross with a certain woman he knew could have made a difference? Why hadn’t she been at the Wayward House where it was safe, where her friends were, friends who later told her all about Martha Wayne’s positive impact on their young lives?Where had Selina Kyle been while Bruce’s mother lived, instead of cowering in that dark alley seconds before Martha’s life ended at the side of her husband?Oh, bloody hell.“Is there no shelter you might get to, someplace safer than a box in the Narrows?” Keeping his attention on the road, Alfred allowed a quick glance at Selina’s profile beside him. That topic of conversation could be problematic with a flight risk like Selina Kyle. The coupe was accelerating toward the Kane Bridge, but how was he to know the unpredictable little feline aficionado wouldn’t jump out at forty just to avoid answering a question? The threat of her flight still wasn’t enough to keep Alfred from avoid that particular discussion. It was, in his mind at least, a valid subject under the circumstances.“Surely there are other options preferable to your current living situation, Miss Kyle. I believe we may still have Mrs. Wayne’s old rolodex. I could make some calls after lunch, see about getting you someplace safer tonight, ey?”Alfred knew a fine line existed between accepting a rare, unsolicited offer of help and guarding one’s pride. She could accept or refuse, that much was beyond Alfred’s control. Neither was under any obligation to the other. Yet still he defied logic and his own sanity and sense by addressing the matter aloud.I must be mad. Mad as a bloody hatter. She’s trouble this one. But she’s also just a child.He could almost feel Martha’s smile.Almost.  created by creativian

Everyone loves the hufflepuff house, their bubbly, full of energy and friendly. Not everyone acts that way Cassia is the opposite she quiet and cocky the overall introvert with no friends except for Hagrid. If your interested in a hufflepuff storyline hit me up this girls from the old MySpace Novella writer

Home is where Nova feels the most safe. She has spent a long time perfecting every room to her favor. The home is a two-story apartment in Logan Circle. She was lucky enough to snag such a spacious abode. It's full of natural light, perfect for someone hiding from the dark. Her favorite room, though, would be the spare room. She converted it into her office and library. The plants bring joy and color into her day as she sits at her computer to go through emails and utilizes her drawing pad to work on rough drafts for her clients. Directly across, she has floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with more books than she will ever possibly read, but it brings her comfort to be surrounded by them. The large windows provide her with all the natural light her heart desires, and the armchair is the comfy throne she needs to get lost in another world.

Born Amy Jade Winehouse on September 14th, 1983, in the London neighbourhood of Southgate, Amy impacted the music industry unlike any other during the dawn of the 21st century. She disliked the music she heard on the radio; it angered her. Her debut album, Frank, took off when she was just shy of twenty years old, with the help of hip-hop producer Salaam Remi. It sold millions of copies but limited Amy's popularity in the United Kingdom and parts of Europe. It was a level of fame she was more than okay with handling. It wouldn't be until the album that followed Frank that her life would change forever.So, she began writing her own. Lady Gaga, Adele, Sia, and many other female vocalists credit Amy for their success. When Back To Black was issued to the United States in 2007, a year ahead of its UK release, it reached #1 in dozens of countries worldwide. Its top single, "Rehab", was played everywhere. It was like nothing else at the time; it was a fusion of R&B, soul, and jazz that had never been heard. It is a homage to Motown and 1960s girl groups with a modern touch. Then, the music industry began seeking young female talents like Amy.This reiteration I am writing is set around 2007. Hardcore drugs had not entered her lifestyle yet, and neither did her infamous old flame, Blake Fielder-Civil, who married her and took part in her downfall but used his wife's riches to feed his drug addictions and bringing her down with him by acquainting her with heroin and crack cocaine. The superstar's life put immense pressure on Amy, and her control freak of a husband added more. He cut her off from her friends and family, and none attended the wedding; they were just Blake's friends.In real life, she did pass away on July 23rd, 2011, at the young age of twenty-seven. Contrary to popular belief, she had been sober of crack and heroin for three years. However, it was her alcoholism and malnutrition caused by her eating disorders that led to her accidental death from alcohol poisoning. Unfortunately, a reckless soul like Amy could not go without being looked after for two days. She was recording her third album, which was never finished, and a few tracks appeared on the posthumous record Lioness: Hidden Treasures. Amy was not just a music icon but a fashion icon. Her immaculate tattoos, exaggerated winged eyeliner, cat-eye, wild beehive wigs, occasionally androgynous fashion sense, and outspoken attitude would leave their mark. Her music was purely about her personal experiences with life and relationships, told in whole truths, which didn't sit well with some for a singer to hang out their dirty laundry. Talents like Adele did better commercially because they were less honest and accurate than Amy.So far, writing stories about what her life could been had it made a more positive turn is an exciting experience. Sometimes, I forget she left the world over a decade ago and would have been forty years old in 2023.Unfortunately, the biopic released in 2024 did not show a precise perspective of Amy Winehouse. I was very disappointed that the film focused too much on her demons (primarily her abusive relationship with the infamous Blake Fielder-Civil), made the men who failed her look good (such as her father and her husband, Blake), and had little focus on her music. There are also too many fictitious bits and inaccurate events. Crucial people in Amy's life were left out or barely touched upon. Her best friend Tyler James only had one short scene; Mark Ronson, who produced Back To Black, was left out. Nick Shymansky, her first manager, is just kind of an a**hole instead of her good friend like he was in real life. The whole thing infuriated me. It was a cash grab, plain and simple. The idea of an Amy Winehouse biopic, in general, is tasteless. She was exploited enough throughout her life. To top it off, she is a difficult person to portray well.

➽ Well then I guess you never cared﹒⠀🕊「 ✦ Rina — she / her / hers -- 23 ✦ 」「 ✦ hello!! My name is Rina and I am seeking out 1x1 rp writing partners! I normally enjoy m x (me) f, and that is my preference. I am a novella style writer, with the occasional literate - semi literate. I have roleplayed for over 11 years, and always had a knack for long-term sessions. Now I mainly play dnd and other style games, but have been wanting to get back into writing a story and creating a fun time with my partners.  ✦ 」- Romance - fantasy - medieval - angst- college life- slice of life- Original characters- historical (dukes, lords, lady's etc.) These are my main genres, but I am open to most any concept and would love to hear you're idea's.Please ask me for my ABSOLUTE NO's list. Other than that, if you want to roleplay a trigger heavy plot, just let me know what the triggers pertain. Im okay with smut roleplays as long as that isnt the main theme. I want to be able to do the whole, sharing playlist, creating Pinterest boards, and really getting into our characters and story. I want to go the 9 yards, so if you are seeking a partner like that, please feel free to message me. Yes, I do have a discord! I roleplay there as well, but if you prefer here I don't mind at all. ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ; [ Shinunoga E-wa by fujii Kaze ]1:07 ——◦———— -4:05 ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

Being called Babyboy or kittenHair pullingRough sexPublic sexSpankingChockingBondageMuscle kinkbiting

Aurora Waverly Stackhouse, affectionately called “Rory” or ‘Rora” by her friends, was the daughter of Bon Temp’s very own Sookie Stackhouse. Don't ask who her father is, Waverly has no idea and every time the subject is brought up Sookie will avoid it like the plague. From the moment Aurora was born, Sookie had made the conscious decision to keep the truth from her, to hide the Faerie within her. If anything, Sookie was hoping that it would keep Aurora safe but really it just made life complicated for herself. You see, Faerie children, even those that are half, begin to manifest their abilities throughout their childhood usually starting around age five. That was roughly when Aurora slowly began to listen in on other people's thoughts. Aurora just thought it was something everyone could do, it came as naturally as breathing to her. As she got older, she slowly came to the realization that she was anything but normal. Sookie spent her time hiding each new ability that Aurora presented, coming up with ways to logically explain different things that happened… but on the night it was Aurora’s twenty-second birthday, there was no denying the powers that manifested.  December 25th 2021 The night had started out like any other, Aurora sighed softly as chocolate hues watched out the window of Merlotte’s Bar & Grill patiently waiting for the night to come to an end. As much as she loved the fact that she had a job, working on your birthday wasn't exactly what she had in mind. “If you’ve got time to lean young lady you’ve got time to clean... Com’ on, the sooner we get this done, the sooner you can go home” Aurora’s Aunt Arlene said, giving her a gentle pat on the back. Despite the name on the Bar and Grill, Arlene Bellfuer and her husband Terry were now the owners of the bar. They had kept the place floating when Sam and most of the original staff had to leave during the pandemic. They had been hurting so badly for help, that Sookie offered up Aurora in her place. Rory didn't mind, she loved her Aunt Arlene and this gave her an excuse to leave the house. Aurora loved her mother, but the leash she had been holding onto so tightly was beginning to choke her. “I know Aunty, I'll get started on the pool table area,” Aurora said with a small smile as she grabbed a rag and headed over to clean.Four very annoying hours later and Aurora was finally getting off the clock. Arlene and Terry wished her goodnight as she walked the bag of trash over to the dumpsters. With a small frustrated grunt, she lifted the bag and tossed it in listening for it to hit the bottom with a smash. A small cringe came from her at the sound, broken glass had always been one of those sounds Aurora couldn't stand. Shutting the lid she grabbed the purél hand sanitizer from her purse and started over toward her mother's yellow Honda Civic circa 1981. Aurora was honestly surprised the damn thing even still ran, it was well past its prime and she would be lucky if she could get it started on the first try. ‘snap’ the sound of a branch crunching behind her made the blonde stop in her tracks. She brushed the loose bits of her golden hair back behind her ear as chocolate hues searched around her. “Hello? Is someone there?” She asked, turning so her back was facing the car. Subtly her free hand began reaching for the pepper spray her mother had given her when she first started working at the bar. ‘Can never be too careful, even the nicest man can be turned into a fool once that liquor is in his system' her mother would always say.“get in the car” a soft whispered voice carried by her ear. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she took slow deep breaths. The only sound in the air was the sound of her heart beating rapidly in her chest. The pounding in her ears made it incredibly hard to focus as her body entered that 'fight or flight’ mode. ‘Flight’ won her over and without much hesitation she quickly turned and grabbed the door handle only to be yanked back and tossed across the parking lot. Aurora let out a pained scream as she flew across the gravel landing on her back. The wind knocked out of her as she tried to catch her breath, no human man should have been able to toss her like that.“F u c k i n g  vampires..” She grumbled under her breath before quickly pushing to her feet. Chocolate hues watched the half-crazed vampire as it seemed to be fighting with itself on whether or not it wanted to attack Aurora. Its eyes landed on the blood that trickled down the side of Aurora’s head from where she had kissed the gravel a few moments ago. Another round of panic set in as Aurora quickly wiped it away. “Do NOT come any closer or I swear to god” Aurora said as she held up the pepper spray. It was at that moment that Aurora noticed her hands began to brighten, light danced across her fingertips, and slowly began to creep up her arms. The only way to describe it was as if the galaxy itself had begun to wash over her tiny frame. As if the stars knew she was special and needed to be protected. The light in her palms began to brighten, and Aurora couldn't help but drop the pepper spray. “What are you?” The vampire asked as it watched in disbelief. “I'm a waitress..” Aurora said with a small smirk. She moved on instinct and allowed every ounce of energy she had to flow from her body to her hands. everything moved in slow motion as the light brightened so much it looked like Aurora had gone Supernova. The impact of her light not only tossed the vampire back, but it actually set him on fire. The force of her power slightly knocked her back on her a s s once more as she watched in utter disbelief. The light that had once brightened her entire frame slowly faded until it was completely out. “What the actual f u c k was that?!” Aurora squealed, kicking her legs as she scrambled to get back to her feet, looking at her hands. The golden-haired beauty for the first time remembered she was still outside the bar, and almost instantly looked around to see if anyone else had seen her. With a small sigh of relief she grabbed her purse and booked it back over to the car, starting it (thankfully on the first try) she slammed on the gas pedal and started toward her house. Her mother had so much explaining to do.

LoveLouise and Lestat, they were quite the couple. A match made in heaven or maybe hell, depending on the day of course. Sometimes the lovers had good days and other terrible ones filled with arguments, screaming, and throwing things. But through it all, they had each other. And the beginning of each morning they kissed, made their peace and sometimes even shared a coffin. They were in love.󠀠 How does it work? Love between two men? Claudia once asked Louis simply out of her innocent curiosity and the oddity of their current family situation. Happily, almost bashfully, Louis answered back just as simply. It works like love. That answer never really settled well with Claudia. Love? She had never truly known love before being turned. Her mother and aunt hadn't been married. While her mother had been kind to her she was never sure it was out of love. Her aunt had never been kind to her, there was no mistake of love there. The first time she had seen love, considered, was with her parents.When she had first been turned, when she was still just a child she'd giggle when she saw them grab for each other, or when she walked in on an awkward moment of them kissing. Seeing her parents happy was what made her happy. However, as she grew and began to understand the gravity of their relationship. That beneath the surface it wasn't as warm as she thought it was her perception of love began to change.When she was young she wanted to have love like Louis and Lestat. To find a mate and to be happy. But when she began to understand the dynamic more she wanted it less and less. It wasn't that she wanted love less, she wanted a love of her own, one less toxic than that of her parents. When she had met Charlie she had found that. Oh he was the sweetest man she had ever met. And he was handsome! He drove her mind, body, and heart wild with desire and love! She assumed it was that passion that led to his demise. That night there in his carriage. If she had just taken more care, had more control of herself! .. It was the past now though.With Charlie gone, Claudia had never felt so disconnected from life itself. And it didn't help to be surrounded by her parents. The turmoil of their relationship only pushed her further away. One moment they'd be like lovesick fools, the next at each other's throats. Sometimes nowadays she preferred them that way, arguing. Because to see them happy stirred a jealousy in her, a dark streak of herself she didn't care for.One night she casually strolled up the stairs of the home she shared with her parents. No longer did she skip or run around the house. She did give a little knock, however, as she always had, to alert them she was coming.Before going to her own room she stepped into theirs to say goodnight, kiss her Daddy Lou goodnight, and give some sort of nod to Lestate. She stopped in the doorway though when she noticed her parents kissing, sharing an intimate moment. She should have felt happy, to see them this way. But instead, all that bubbled inside her little chest was rage.Hadn't they heard her knock? Well.. Louis hadn't. Lestat on the other hand broke the kiss and turned to meet Claudia's gaze giving a small smirk. He had wanted her to catch them stealing this moment. Louis cleared his throat and tried to pretend like what had just happened hadn't. "Claudia.. ready for coffin babe?" He asked. Louis expected Claudia to kiss him goodnight as she usually did but tonight she only nodded. "... Night Daddy Lou.. Lestat." She said, his name a bit colder as she left the room.Alone in her own room she slammed her door, drew the curtains, shut the lights out, and then crawled into her coffin, closing the lid. She hated Lestat. Part of her hated Louis too. Why? Why did they have each other and she had no one? Just the memory of a lost love and his bloodied shirt she had kept. Sniffling and stifling back her tears Claudia cried herself to sleep, clutching the bloodie shirt of Charlie, still able to smell his lingering scent. It was all she had of him.󠀠Claudia. Unlike Louis and Lestat she was alone in this long life sentence she had been given. Sometimes Claudia resented her parents. Lestat for not being a better mentor, she blamed him for Charlie's death. And Louis, he was a sucker when it came to Lestat. He said jump, Louis would ask how high. Something needed to change between this trio. Something needed to break this family apart. And soon, very soon, something would. Claudia would finally get revenge, and a life worth living. template credit.

No admittance to playbys of any Nathaniel Buzolic characters, both Kol and otherwise OC's (especially if they can't even manage to spell the name correctly and clearly can't write with the slightest attestation to punctuation) nor any using Ben Barnes, the combined despicable behavior of a multitude using those two pbs will no longer be tolerated on my page. No mirrors admitted, do not inquire further with me pertaining to any of the pb's listed here. This will be updated as perceived necessary by me and, no, I don't need to explain why for any of the pbs listed. It's been made amply clear over the course of several years that none are worth allowing onto my page from their own behavior, not mine.

i'm up for ic chatter via messages or writing together via messages, if we connect enough i might be open to giving my discord out for convenience -( it is my personal / rp based for multiple muses not just selena, hence why i won't just openly post it ).she is a new muse, looking to be fleshed out and create various connections for her. i'm also still pretty new to rp.me, so patience is appreciated !feel free to message ooc if any of this interests you.( platonic — ) best friends. ride or die. childhood friends. neighbor. co-workers. online friends. drinking / clubbing buddy. family member. found family. roommate(s). family friend. ( potential romantic past / present — ) exes, on good or bad terms. high school sweethearts that ended poorly. one sided crush, either way, though her having a crush can take awhile. friends with benefits. blind date / tinder date. pr /fake relationship. one night stand. last minute / fake date - think "the wedding date". ( misc. connections  — ) criminal connection, i just want someone / multiple someones to pull her into a world she's unfamiliar with. * she's not innocent, but she's not familiar with the nitty and gritty of things first hand. supernatural / fantasy based muses, again, i just want someone to pull her into the unfamiliar. note : these can be mixed / matched. + open to your ideas too for your muses. 

Looking for new people to roleplay with.