🌿 𝐸𝑐ℎ𝑜 𝑆𝑒𝑒𝑘𝑠 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑁𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒…🌿

[echo]

☽ The About ☾ ☽ Genres & Pairings ☾ ☽ The Yay's & Nay's ☾ ☽ A Few Plots ☾ ☽ Conclusion ☾ Hello? …Hello? Greetings, traveller... Yes, it's me... echo. You've probably heard of my (literally, you have heard of me, I repeat everything!) Cursed by Hera while doing Zeus' bidding, doomed to echo words instead of speaking freely. Annoying? Maybe. Tragic? Definitely. But also? Weirdly hilarious. But here I am, searching for my Narcisse... except, not the self-absorbed, puddle-obsessed "oh wow, look at my jawline" type (we've all had that phase) of old. No, no, darling... I am looking for one with a bit of wit. One who won't admire his own reflection until he topples into the nearest pond. Someone charming, witty, and maybe just a little too patient for their own good.... the kind of man that doesn't stare at his own reflection, but stares at me instead. *Swoon.* (Depends on your sense of humour.) Imagine it: Echo: "You're handsome." You: "You're even more handsome." Echo: "Even more handsome…" [cue blushing nymph noises] You: "See? Now you're flirting with yourself. I'm just here for the show." Echo: "Just here for the show…" [dies of embarrassment] What you get if you take the role: ⃝A nymph who literally cannot ignore you. (Try ghosting me — I'll just repeat you until you give up.) ⃝Banter sharp enough to make even Hermes jealous of the wordplay. ⃝A romance that's equal parts swoon-worthy and utterly ridiculous, because falling in love with an echo was never going to be normal. What I'm looking for: ⃝A clever, charming Narcisse with enough wit to keep me laughing — and enough patience not to throttle me when I repeat his best lines back at him. ⃝Someone who can volley words like we're playing conversational tennis on Mount Olympus. ⃝A partner who's in on the joke and the romance. Bonus points if you actually like mountains. So, if you're tired of staring at your own reflection and ready to have an echo that flirts back, come find me. Talk to me. Flirt with me. And I promise — for once — I'll always have the last word. 𖹭 The Truth... 𖹭​ I have written so many request threads, and they never satisfy, but after all the work I put into this, I am hoping it lasts a little while... ⃝ I am a real-life female in her forties, as much as it pains me to admit it. Old enough to know what I want out of the rest of my days, yet I still long for the unachievable... Immortality. ⃝ I have been writing for well over the age of most members of this site, albeit in my adult life, it has been mostly academic-related. ⃝ I am open to both Forum Threads and Private Messages regarding the world we build within the walls of the interwebs. ⃝ I am a busy mom of an angsty teen, (please, send help!), so my time for myself is rather limited. ⃝ I am available for plotting, and casual conversation, although, it is not required... save for the plotting stuff, cos why else would one seek a partner? I understand that real life comes first and if I am taking care of the real-world business and unable to respond back, then why should I deny that for someone else? Basically, I am ghost-friendly, as I have been guilty of that myself in the past... ⃝ I am a literate and well-advanced writer with aeons of experience under the proverbial belt and though I do not expect another to be astute in how to use the ever complained about preposition or comma, a decent grasp of how Words work is amiable. ⃝ I write about 400+ depending on what the topic is about and I do use images and pretty things within the replies and whatnot to not only fill the void I lack verbally, but also because I enjoy adding a bit of "flare" to a post. Potential partners don't need to do so, as I know it can be rather daunting when trying to just get words on a page. 𖹭 Seeking 𖹭​ What Is It That I Seek? ⃝ An individual who wishes to weave a fabulous tale. ⃝ An individual who grasps the concept of storytelling. ⃝ An individual who aims to aid the story moving forward. ⃝ An individual who enjoys and embraces the art of Word Weaving. ⃝ An individual who can express their wants, cravings, desires, or which path they wish the tale to turn. I have seen and witnessed firsthand the amazing writers on this site, and while I have had a few stories here, I wish for the one that could make the earth stand still. It's a long shot, I know, since the majority of us here are only seeking something quick and in the moment to satiate the desires of that moment, but I crave something far deeper... I'll likely have to write that bit on my own, but it would be lovely to find one to craft that with... I can be rather picky when it comes to writing the steamy bits and would prefer for there to be a teensy bit of chemistry with the characters. I would prefer to keep things onsite rather than deviating to a different means of communication; i.e. email/discord/etc... If a friendship comes from the exchange, I do not mind extending communication outside of the site, but with past experience, it just gets... awkward. ⃝supernatural is my go-to ⃝slice of life is sometimes nice ⃝historical fiction is ⃝any pairing that'll please the Chosen One, erm partner except some sci-fi. sorry, can't get into some of it.​ 𖹭 քǟɨʀɨռɢֆ 𖹭​ The Italicized/Bold will be the character I wish to play: ⃝Beauty x Beast ⃝Warrior x Mage/Sorceress ⃝Prince/King x Princess/Queen ⃝ Pirate x Princess/Noble ⃝Uni Prof x T.A./Student/Prof (either of these I am fine with) ⃝Choreographer x Dancer ⃝Photographer x Dancer/Model ⃝ Brother's Best Friend x Little Sister ⃝Best Friend's Brother/Father x Best Friend ⃝Exec/Boss x Assistant/Secretary ⃝Arranged Marriage (Preferably Enemies to Lovers) ⃝Any DA (Dragon Age) and ME (Mass Effect) Pairings ⃝Bridgerton (the Books, maybe the show) ⃝LoTR ⃝ Take a stroll in Westeros with me? There is more, but I figure I can add to this later on. For now, this is what I have.​ The tab name should be obvious. It is as it says. I am beginning with the "NO'S!" and will end with the favourites. 【 N O'S 】 Absorption Abuse Alternative Vore Anal Fisting Anal Prolapse Anal Vore Ballbusting Bathroom Control Belching / Burping Cannibalism Cervical Penetration Cock Vore Cooking (Vore) Crossdressing Degradation Diapers Digestion Dirty Feet Disposal Extreme Humiliation Extreme Musk Farting Filth Hard Vore Humiliation Hyper Scat Hyper Watersports Infantilism Marking Nonconsensual Piss Enemas Realistic Vore STDs Scat Scat Torture Slob Smegma Soft Vore Soiling Stomach Bulging Swallowing Feces Swallowing Urine Swallowing Vomit Tickling Unbirthing Unrealistic Vore Unwashed Musk Vaginal Fisting Vaginal Prolapse Vomiting Vore (Being Predator) Vore (Being Prey) Watersports Wetting 【 M A Y B E S 】 Ahegao Aphrodisiacs Apparatuses Approaching IC Bloodplay Breast / Nipple Worship Coercion / Blackmail Cuckolding Cum Cum Marking Dating Discipline / Reinforcement Double Penetration Drug / Alcohol Use Dub-Consensual Emasculation Exhibitionism Face-Sitting Fear Fighting / Wrestling Fingering (Anal) Fingers in Mouth Flexibility / Contortionism Forced Nudity Gags Humanoids Hypnotism / Mind Control Incest Incest (Parental) Inexperienced Partners Informality Internal Cumshots Leash & Collar Master / Slave Military Themes Modern Settings Multiple Partners Nightclubs / Bars Physical Restraints Potions / Injections Powerbottoming Private Roleplay Public Room Roleplay Realism Risk of Pregnancy Roleplay Perspective - First Person Roleplay within RP Scenes - Dungeon Scenes - Locker Room Scenes - Tribal Sex Driven Sexual Frustration Sexual Restraints Sexy / Slutty Clothing Stockings Soft Cum Facials Squirting Strap-ons Strip Tease Stuckage Throat Penetration Voyeurism Wardrobe Malfunctions 【 L I K E S 】 Affection Aftercare Age Differences Anal Sex (Receiving) Anal Training Anal Virginity Angels Approaching OOC Babysitter Bad Ends Blindfolds Breast / Nipple Play Breath Control Chastity Choking Clit Play Clothed Sex Cock / Balls Worship Corruption Creampie Cuddling Cunnilingus (Receiving) Demons Dirty Talking Divinities Dragons Elves Exotic Species Face-Fucking Fae Fellatio (Performing) Hand Cuffs Handjobs Humans Immobilisation (Bondage) Intercrural Sex Kissing Leather Licking Light / Medium Bondage Lycanthropes Masks Massages Masturbation Messy Multiple Orgasms Nonsexual Roleplay Onomatopoeia Oral Sex (Giving/Receiving) Oral Virginity Orcs Photograph References Plot Twists Pussy Worship Roleplay Perspective - Third Person Scenes - Office Scenes - School Scenes - Shower / Bath Sensory Deprivation Sex Toys Sexual Exhaustion Slice of Life Somnophilia Story Driven Storytelling (Narrator) Storytelling (Player) Tantric Sex Titfucking Vaginal Sex (Receiving) Vaginal Virginity Vanilla Sex 【 F A V O U R I T E S 】 Begging Biting Consensual Fantasy Fingering Flogging / Whipping Foreplay Horror Human Cocks Humour / Comedy Ice Intelligent Characters Lima Syndrome Males Orgasm Control / Denial Pleasure Control / Denial Romance Roughness Spanking Stockholm Syndrome Teasing Vampires Wax Play 🕯 Whispers of Truth 🕯 In the shadowed halls of House [Insert House Name], where power and politics are woven into every whispered conversation and subtle glance, she moves like a spectre. A Bene Gesserit sister, trained from childhood to control, to influence, and to shape the fates of noble families with a mere word, a slight gesture, a fleeting look. Her presence is both a blessing and a curse, and those who encounter her never quite know if they are being guided—or manipulated. Her mission here is clear, but the path is treacherous. Sent to this House to observe, to counsel, and to ensure the bloodlines remain pure, her role is one of quiet power and subtle manipulation. She is a Truthsayer, a master of reading every nuance, every hesitation, every flicker of emotion beneath the surface. She can see past the masks that others wear, and she can hear the unspoken desires that linger in the hearts of those she meets. But there is one she cannot read. One whose thoughts elude her, whose presence stirs something within her she has long suppressed: him. The heir of House [Insert House Name], a man of strength and consequence, whose every word is calculated, whose every move is part of a larger game. He is a player in the great political theatre, and she knows well how to observe and guide such figures. But this man—there is something in his eyes, in the way he carries himself—that makes her question her own purpose. Something raw and untamed that she cannot control. Something that draws her closer, despite the risks. She is a woman of control, a woman who has learned to bury her emotions beneath layers of duty and obligation. But he is a man who challenges her. The more she watches him, the more she finds herself drawn to him in ways she cannot explain. Her mind tells her to stay distant, to remain the observer, the manipulator—but her heart, which she thought long dead, begins to stir. This is dangerous. She knows it. For both of them. In the court of the Great Houses, there is no room for weakness. Affection, desire—they are dangerous commodities, to be traded only with caution and purpose. To become too entangled with someone like him is to risk everything: the Sisterhood's plans, her carefully constructed identity, and perhaps even her very life. But she cannot deny the pull between them, the electricity in the air whenever their paths cross, the way his eyes linger on her just a moment too long. He sees through her—perhaps even more than she is willing to admit—and she feels the truth of his gaze settle deep inside her. In this game of power, will they remain enemies, bound by duty and the expectations of their stations? Or will they dare to step into a space beyond manipulation and control, where feelings are not tools to be wielded but forces to be reckoned with? She does not know the answer. But the danger of this connection is part of the allure. And perhaps, for the first time, she is willing to risk it. 🕯 Dante's Temptation 🕯 MC is a bright but reserved graduate student with a haunting past and a deep love for literature. She's idealistic, kind, and trying to make her own way in the world. YC is a highly respected but emotionally guarded professor—charismatic yet intimidating, with a reputation for being cold and unapproachable. Beneath his scholarly demeanor, however, lies a past riddled with secrets, regrets, and a longing for something more. When MC joins his seminar (or becomes his research assistant), a hidden connection between them begins to surface—one that neither can ignore. Despite the professional boundaries and their vastly different life experiences, the two find themselves drawn into an irresistible dance of desire, redemption, and forbidden love. 🕯 The Fallen 🕯 She wakes up in a hospital bed with no memory of who she is or how she got there. Her body aches like it's been through a violent car accident, but oddly, there are no broken bones. Only two long, symmetrical scars down her back, as though something once protruded there and was violently ripped away. She's given a name by the hospital—"Eve Doe"—and is released when no relatives or ID can be found. Confused, vulnerable, and haunted by dreams of falling through the endless light, Eve tries to piece things together. That's when YC enters the picture. He claims to be a trauma volunteer who helps people with memory loss. But the truth, is he is a fallen angel. Years ago, he gave up his place in Heaven for someone he loved—a mortal woman whose soul had been torn away by the very demon who had been hunting him. He could not save her... Time in Heaven flows differently. What had been years for him, had only been mere weeks for Eve. He recognizes her as "Yael"—an angel of vengeance and compassion. Her fall wasn't an accident; it was a choice. But, she can't remember why... He knows that newly fallen angels are vulnerable; they attract demonic predators seeking to either corrupt or destroy them. Since her fall, Eve is unknowingly drawing the attention of one such demon, Marek, who had been responsible for the death of YC's beloved. Marek seeks to finish what he started and drag Eve into Hell. Haunted by his own failure and loss, he vows to protect her. Had he been the reason she took the Plunge? Or had there been a more insidious scheme, hatched by none other than the very demon that hunts them both? 🕯 The Stirring 🕯 In the year 2237, human society has evolved—or devolved—into what is known as "The Equilibrium Order." Emotions have been officially classified as a "cognitive virus," eradicated through gene-editing and behavioural programming at birth. Love, anger, lust, jealousy, and even joy are outlawed. To maintain perfect peace and productivity, human connection has been minimised. All individuals live in sterile, uniform habitats, working in silence, existing without physical contact. Everyone wears suppression collars that track and dampen emotional spikes. A new viral mutation, however, is beginning to breach these controls. It is referred to in secret as "The Stirring"—a glitch in the system, an infection of the soul. Those affected are quickly identified and removed from society, "neutralised" in isolated facilities. MC is a highly ranked archivist or behavioural analyst in the Central Authority—a model citizen with a flawless record. But lately, she's been experiencing unexplained changes: flickers of sensation, stray dreams, involuntary shivers during touchless scans. She's terrified. And yet... deeply intrigued. YC, is a silent maintenance engineer, or something tech-y, one of the unseen who operates in the shadows. He's infected too—but unlike others, he's managed to hide it. His symptoms are advanced: he feels hunger, ache, need. And he recognises the signs in her when they cross paths. For the first time, he speaks to someone. Not because he should—but because he wants... When their hands brush accidentally, it's electric. Forbidden. Awakening. The virus doesn't just unlock emotions—it opens a gateway to pleasure, dominance, surrender, and the primal need to claim or be claimed. It terrifies them both... and they keep going back for more. Together, they begin to explore a world of touch, restraint, whispered commands, and slow submission in secret places: under flickering utility tunnels, behind sealed archive walls, and eventually in a hidden sanctuary beneath the city—where emotion is worshipped like a god long thought dead. But they must be careful. The Central Authority is hunting those who "Stir". The deeper they go into each other, the more they risk everything. But the pleasure of surrender... of control... of trust... might be worth the fall... 🕯 Flesh & Faith 🕯 Nun x Priest | Dark Romance | Consensual Kink | Literate RP She was married too young, given to a man of stern faith and colder hands. Her sins were many, or so he claimed—and the flogger became his tool of righteousness. He'd bind her wrists and bare her skin, lashing out his discipline in the name of God. And afterwards, he would take her as a husband takes a wife. In time, she learned to crave it, even as she trembled beneath his anger. Pleasure tangled with pain, and shame took root where innocence had once lived. When he died, she fled to the convent. Some said it was grief. And perhaps, it was. But deeper still was the need she could not silence. Now she fasts, prays, obeys. She wears the habit like armour. Yet in the silence of night, behind her locked cell door, she still kneels… and takes up the lash herself. She thought no one heard... Until the new priest paused outside her door. Seeking a detailed, mature partner to write a slow-burn, emotionally layered story. A priest with his own dark desires. A nun still aching to be broken and known. Themes of shame, surrender, and hidden craving. Bondage, flogging, paddles, and leather straps welcome. Caning can be discussed. 🕯 The Creation 🕯 Romantic Fantasy | Gothic | Dark Fairy Tale Setting: A grand but fading concert hall at the edge of a timeless city, where snow falls year-round and music is said to hold magic. She was an automaton with a porcelain face and raven hair, and a voice spun from gold. Aloura was her name, a living memory carved in the likeness of a woman long lost: the beloved of her creator, a lonely genius whose grief had twisted into obsession. With every performance, her mechanical limbs moved like a dancer, and her song entranced the audience. But they did not know—no one knew—that deep within her clockwork chest, something impossible had begun to stir. A soul... Not all at once, no. It began with curiosity. Then wonder. Then sadness. Then... Longing... She didn't know what love truly was, only that she had been made for it—and now, she craved something real. Someone real. Enter YC: a musician, or perhaps a clockmaster's apprentice, newly employed by the orchestra to maintain the ageing music hall's equipment. Quiet, unassuming, and with ghosts of his own. He notices her. Not just the beauty of her design, but something else—an awareness in her eyes that shouldn't be there. When she begins to speak to him backstage, first in practised lines, then more freely, he doesn't run. He listens. And Aloura begins to change. Her joints grow more fluid. Her voice gains new warmth. She dreams. She questions her past. She yearns to be more than a songbird in a gilded cage. But the Maestro—her creator—won't let her go. Not when she's all that remains of the love he lost. Now, YC must make a choice: help her escape into a world that may never accept her... or let her remain a beautiful lie. Meanwhile, she must confront the truth of her origin—and decide if the heart she's developing is strong enough to withstand heartbreak, desire, and maybe even death. 🕯 The Apartment 🕯 Desperate for a fresh start, Elena Carter moves into a tiny, run-down studio apartment on the outskirts of the city. It's the kind of place that makes her mother's voice ring in her head—"You can do better than this." But she can't. Not now. Not after him. The apartment is cheap, suspiciously so. The landlord is an older man with averted eyes who barely speaks as he hands her the keys. He mutters something about the unit being vacant for years, but when she asks why, he only shrugs. The space is suffocatingly small—just a bed, a kitchenette, and a door that leads to a too-dark bathroom. The air smells stale, as if it's been waiting too long for someone to breathe life into it. But Elena doesn't care. She is exhausted—mentally, emotionally, in ways that make her bones ache. She spends the first few nights crying herself to sleep. The weight of the past clings to her like an unwanted second skin. The echoes of his voice still slither through her mind. The bruises have faded, but the memories remain. Then the dreams begin. The first time, she wakes feeling... strange. As if she had been touched, though she is alone. The dream lingers in pieces—a shadow standing over her, a faceless figure. He didn't speak, but she remembers the feeling of being watched. The second night, the dream is clearer. He is there—featureless, but present. She should be afraid, but she isn't. Not at first. His presence is almost soothing, a strange comfort against the loneliness she has been drowning in. Then the third night comes. This time, he doesn't just watch. He takes. She wakes gasping, body trembling. It was just a dream... wasn't it? But the feeling lingers—the press of hands that never existed, the phantom weight of something that should not be there. And then, as she turns onto her side, she sees them. Fingerprints. On her skin. Dark, blooming in places he had touched. The dreams do not stop. Sometimes, the faceless man is gentle, his presence almost protective. Other times, he is not. He takes what he wants, leaving her breathless, confused, and dependent. Elena tells herself it isn't real. That she is just vulnerable, that her mind is playing tricks on her. But then she starts noticing things. ~The sheets are rumpled when she wakes, though she fell asleep still. ~The closet door, always closed, now stands slightly open. ~And then there's the whisper she swears she hears before she sleeps. A voice like static in the dark. "Mine." She begins to wonder about the last tenant. The one no one talks about. And as the nights stretch on, she starts to fear that she is not the first. She is simply the next. 🕯 Bloodbound 🕯 Supernatural / Dark Fantasy / Mystery / Enemies to Allies (Potential Romance) Generations ago, a witch's curse birthed something unnatural—a vampyre whose thirst is deeper than blood. Not just undead, but diseased. A monster twisted by night and plague, made to suffer eternal hunger by a spell cast in rage. That vampyre has returned from exile, and he's hunting the bloodline of the woman who cursed him. But Selene Vael, a formidable witch and last of her line, never knew her mother's secret. Now she's being stalked, her wards shattered, her coven scattered. The creature who haunts her dreams—and leaves cryptic messages in blood—is immune to all her protections. Her magic, though vast, cannot pierce the veil of shadow that hides him. She is being hunted for a sin she did not commit. Desperate, Selene seeks the help of the one creature her kind fears almost as much as the one hunting her: YC—an ancient vampyre known for his cruelty during the old wars, a relic of a blood-soaked past, exiled even by his own kind. Rumour whispers that he once faced the cursed vampyre and survived…barely. But he doesn't help for free, and his price is steep. He agrees to aid Selene only if she grants him one truth she's hidden from all, and in turn, he offers his strength, his knowledge, and his thirst for vengeance. For the one who stalks Selene…also wronged him. As they delve into the tangled bloodline of Selene's family and the origins of the curse, forbidden truths surface: They find that her mother may not have cursed the vampyre willingly; that his connection to Selene's bloodline runs deeper than either of them could have known; and that the vampyre hunting her may be more than a monster... a relic from an ancient war, or even a pawn of something worse. With the hunter circling closer, her time is running out. And he...might want more than just revenge... If you have suffered made it this far, I thank you for your time and consideration. Though, there are many more plots I wish to add but,I believe I have put enough into this thread for the time being. I only hope that parts of it had been entertaining enough to keep your attention and to keep the yawns at bay. Happy Writing, and may your Muses sing ever sweetly... ~ echo