THE WORLD'S OLDEST PROFESSION
There's no one who understands better than you that in the trade of skin and vice and sex, there's no room for emotion. "Love" especially is worth less than the money you can ply - and more dangerous for its trouble, too.
Still, you've broken the one rule of sin (don't fall in love, never fall in love, not with a client) and there's no turning back. So what will you do? Here's the rope made of decisions: use it to run away from the bed you've made...or tighten the noose.
- No need for explanation needed here, it is what it is. A Pretty Woman-esque shipping meme for a romance (or something like it) between a prostitute and...someone who's not a prostitute!
- Obviously, while the meme is based on a romcom that glosses over all the darker aspects of sex work, threads here could be fluffy, romantic, tropey/meta, tragic, or serious. Triggers could very well abound. If things are going to be on the uglier side with your character, like abuse, drugs, or underage, please make a note of that and respect preferences.
- Make a top level comment with what role you'd like to play + any other info.
- Reply to others. Play out meetcutes, forbidden romances, business-turned-more, rescue, etc.
Roles:
- The Worker: Everyone has a different story about how they ended up in this lot. Tragedy, force, addiction, money troubles, or genuine love of the work, it doesn't matter, as all the roads lead to another notch in the bedpost and some more money in your - or your boss's - pocket. For once, though, the person you're "hired" by...they're different. Actually, fresh-faced or veteran, you may just discover that you're a little different yourself, more heart of gold than hooker.
- The Client: You were looking for a little fun and you didn't mind paying. Or, on the other hand, you might have just stumbled into a den of iniquity on accident or for other business entirely. One thing's for certain...one person's caught your eye, and whether it be love at first sight or an arduous process, you want better things for them. What do you plan? A rescue? Beating up anyone who'd hurt them?
Be careful you don't get hurt in the process, whether it be at the hands the criminal element that plagues the shadowy side of life or, unfortunately, at the hands of the one you care for most.
Setting:
- Past (Roman brothels, Victorian whorehouses, Renaissance courtesans, etc.)
- Modern
- Sci-fi or fantast
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pippilongsockings) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2021-05-02 08:14 pm
Azusa Yuuya || Caste Heaven || M/M
jyn erso || rogue one || ota
cassian andor || rogue one || ota
rey || star wars || ota
ben solo || star wars || ota
bodhi rook || rogue one || ota
rose tico || star wars || ota
william james moriarty | moriarty the patriot
Dabi | BNHA
Barry Allen | DCTV | m/m
Jefferson Pierce | DC Comics | M/F
Raine | original character (dhampir-shifter) | male pref
Noctis Lucis Caelum | Final Fantasy XV | M/M
Sora Takenouchi | Digimon | M/F
Duo Maxwell | Gundam Wing | M/M
Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf | M/M
Tifa Lockhart | Final Fantasy VII/VIIR | M/F
Nico Acosta | OC | M/F
Eskel || The Witcher (any) || OTA
hawks ― bnha ― m/m
makin me drag this guy out
old man needs to be dusted off
he'll show you old
gonna use a cane to shake menacing?
Evie Montgomery | OC | OTA
Zhongli | Genshin Impact
for ironwind
Childe had been the one to send Zhongli Aether's way. He'd told him that Aether 'is picking up side jobs for money, like usual' and that he'd be the ideal candidate for what Zhongli needed 'to help him relax over the weekend'. Zhongli had given it some thought and tried to refuse on the basis of Mora, which was when Childe had laughed, almost giddy at being presented with a problem he could solve so quickly, and just handed Zhongli a small purse of coins.
Well. That was settled, then.
So Zhongli had gone to Aether. 'Childe told me about the new types of jobs you're doing now,' he'd introduced the topic with, to give credit back to the word-of-mouth stream that Aether would now know he could rely on to help his business. Aether didn't actually look all that happy about the news that Childe had told him, but then, Aether didn't always look all that happy about most things, so Zhongli had only moved on.
'It would just be in my home,' he'd explained further, and Aether had barely even nodded in agreement, just watching him with bright, observant eyes. He'd even tried clarifying that 'I could just use an extra set of hands, I suppose; I think Childe may be correct that that will be a more relaxing way to spend the time I was already going to spend on it,' Aether had seemed almost eager to change the subject to pricing and then to prompting him to lead the way back to his home.
So Zhongli had. After all, he is paying for a service, but just the singular service; Aether is not volunteering to be a live-in maid for the day, and surely he has other clients and commissions and things he must attend to, so Zhongli doesn't want to take up any more of his time than is necessary and polite.
Zhongli leads the way from his front door and then into a kitchen, first, where he offers tea that Aether considers but ultimately turns down. Alright, that's fine. And so into the bedroom they go. ]
If I'd known you were coming, I would have tried to prepare more of it for us. Hopefully this is fine. [ The room is immaculate, and it's not entirely clear for what, exactly, Zhongli thinks he's excusing himself. The bed, at least, is certainly pristine. ] Are you ready?
i apologize immediately
It's not as though the Adventurer's Guild doesn't pay well. It's just that Aether constantly needs money. A lot of money. Adventuring is an expensive and dangerous business, and there's just no better way for him to search for his missing sister than under the Guild's banner, using the Guild's resources. But the regular repairs to his weaponry and other pieces of equipment don't come cheap, and the necessity of Mora in various alchemical and magical reactions means that his expenses are far greater than the income he gets from his assignments and odd jobs.
So it's only logical: he needs to take on more work to make up for the deficit. And it's the same thing, really, as being a passing mercenary, offering his skill-at-arms to the highest-paying employers. It's just a different way to sell his body. It's not as though his customers and commissioners need to know things about him, like what his real name is, or if he's ever done this in the past. It's the same as taking jobs from the Guild. He tells everyone what they want to hear. He makes sure no one leaves him unsatisfied.
Lumine will never have to know.
(He's not — he's not ashamed of it. He's been to worlds where having casual sex, or sex for money, was as natural as breathing, just another aspect of life. It's just — he can never tell Lumine. She'll never look at him the same way if she finds out that he ever had to do this for her sake.)
Anyway, it's not a business. It's certainly not supposed to be the kind of thing his customers refer each other to. It's just something he does sometimes. Something that happens. If his first client was a certain gentleman who offered to turn his good eye away from Aether's dealings and gently intimated that he could be persuaded to spare the Honorary Knight an arrest from the Knights of Favonius for the right price — if the second after that happened to be that gentleman's brother, in the middle of a crisis of faith, a moment of weakness that he clearly regretted afterward even though he'd been just as needy for another appointment — well, it was just coincidence. It wasn't supposed to work out that way. Under ordinary circumstances, Aether wouldn't want his friends to know that he does this kind of thing.
In Liyue, he swore he wouldn't make the same mistakes, but it wasn't long before necessity had driven him to the harbor late at night, trying to entice passing sailors and unprincipled Millelith guardsmen with his lithe body and pretty face. He'd lured in a Fatui agent instead — one that had unscrupulously argued with him about the cost of specific services before his smiling superior had appeared and suggested that it wasn't very polite to haggle for this kind of thing. And then, well — the Eleventh Harbinger had made it clear that he had more than enough coin to pay for Aether's services, and what was the traveler supposed to do? Refuse?
He might have actually refused if he'd known that Childe would subsequently recommend him to Zhongli like this.
Aether's not even sure why he's displeased. It's a compliment, isn't it, or it should be — but it makes him feel like a tool, somehow. A piece of meat, to be traded and commodified and suggested like this. Like an anonymous review left on a town message-board: You have got to try the food at Liuli Pavilion. The pheasant is to die for. But it's a compliment, so why does he feel sick? What's the difference, really, between his services and those of Liyue's finest chef?
Somewhere inside of him, there's the hollow satisfaction of a job well done. Somewhere else, there's the longing to be seen as something more than what he does.
(There's the fear, too — the fear that once they find out, once they all find out, none of them will be able to see him as anything but what he's sold.)
But he's not going to complain. Not out loud, anyway. He's been exceedingly fortunate, and he knows it; he likes everyone who's paid to have him, and there probably isn't another whore in the world who could say the same thing. And everybody clearly enjoyed themselves, so why does he feel so — so alone?
Anyway, now's not the time for him to get lost in his thoughts, or wallow in self-pity over several very good nights he's had with very good men. (It's easier to think about it like that, right? That they're all good men?) He shouldn't think about other clients when he's currently in the presence of a new one, and it's difficult to get the measure of what kind of client Zhongli will be. Aether thinks — he's not sure. He thinks Zhongli might be a tender lover, but it's so hard to tell sometimes. His second client left him bruises that had lingered for weeks, and Aether had been expecting — it doesn't matter now what he'd been expecting.
The house is pristine, much like Zhongli himself. Aether refuses the tea mostly because he knows he's too nervous to taste it. Part of him is eager and hungry and excited. Another part of him feels vaguely ill, and is hoping to get everything over with as soon as possible.]
I'm fine. Don't worry about me.
[It's slightly distracted, as if he isn't actually answering Zhongli's question. Then, after a pause, Aether meets the Archon's gaze, and manages a nod.]
So... should I take my clothes off first, or would you rather start with a kiss?
[...
...The misunderstanding is palpable.]
never apologize for art
But when Aether answers him and then tries to move their meeting forward in that particular manner, Zhongli is, in fact, stunned into silence. He's quiet as if he thinks he misheard, and then he's quiet because quite frankly he knows he didn't mishear. Zhongli looks around himself briefly, as if the missing cultural puzzle piece, whatever mishap has caused this, will present itself in due time.
His bedroom remains silent on the matter, unfortunately.
By now it's likely clear that either Zhongli's nerves for this kind of thing have finally run out, or the worst has happened. But he confirms the latter when he finally decides on how exactly to approach this turn of events. ] I had...expected neither, admittedly.
I... [ Let's face facts: Zhongli is an incredibly well-learned man who is also completely blind to a lot of the social undercurrents of the society he's cultivated. Sometimes, implications - like, for instance, what Childe had been giggling to himself about earlier - go unnoticed.
But. Some clues are simple enough, blunt enough, that even he can immediately follow them to their source. ] I am going to assume that you did not, in fact, accept my offer of a contract earlier because you were eager for more applications of the new skill in carpentry I've heard you were hiding.
[ Furniture, of course. Hadn't Aether been up to all sorts of things with building, recently? Zhongli is now faced with the other truth included here, because it's impossible to miss, and briefly it darkens his expression: Childe lied to him.
And now his new bookshelves will remain tragically unfinished.]no subject
...Oh.
In retrospect, Aether thinks, putting his surprise and his shock and the splinters of his ego together in record time, he should have realized as much. He should have noticed — he ought to have found it odd for a man like Zhongli to proposition him like this. It's not as simple as saying that the clients of sex workers are always undesirable men; on the contrary, as with all three of his past customers, many are perfectly normal, even enviable men who simply don't have the life circumstances that would let them pursue more traditional relationships. But Zhongli — there's nothing stopping Zhongli from doing whatever he wants anymore. He wouldn't have need of someone like Aether. It might be fair to suspect that Zhongli wouldn't even have sexual impulses of that sort.
In retrospect, he should have known that something was up — but it had just seemed so natural, at the time. So expected. Another contract for the God of Contracts to pen. What guilt would he have had to have in it?
Aether's mouth goes dry, and then he swallows, and resolves not to stutter.]
I... um. [Don't stutter. You're not that clumsy. What would Lumine think?] I may have... misunderstood the terms of our agreement.
[It's not a problem — it shouldn't be a problem unless either of them make it into a problem, and Aether wants, desperately, for this to not be a problem. He smooths everything over, from his voice to his expression; he stuffs all of his affront and his ruffled feathers back into his chest. He looks around the room for whatever carpentry project it is that Zhongli wanted him to take up. There are a few intricately engraved boards and planks in one corner. Maybe it's that. Maybe it's that.]
But I — I'm fine with working on furniture instead. We don't have to change anything. I can be flexible.
[Oh, why did he have to use that particular turn of phrase? He could hit himself right now, if he were so inclined. It's fine, he thinks; it's fine. Surely Zhongli won't judge. They can move on, can't they, if Aether just offers the service he actually wanted instead? He won't have to answer any questions, he won't have to field any concerns...
Maybe he really will put those bookshelves together!]no subject
And yet it's not in Zhongli's nature, not really, to question the exact words that someone has answered him with. Aether agrees that there was a misunderstanding. Aether agrees to work on the furniture, too - so that at least doesn't appear to have been a lie from a certain ginger rascal - but he does so with an expression Zhongli has trouble parsing. Figuring out or reciting facts is easy, contract revisions are something he has immense practice in, but putting a word to whatever emotion he sees in Aether's momentarily-blank eyes and in the way he swallows...he's less certain about. ]
I appreciate your flexibility. [ Yeah, he definitely didn't catch that. But there's a slight pause that perhaps sucks a bit of the potential humor right back out of the air, before Zhongli can arrange what he'd like to say. ] Although I admit I hadn't realized how far that useful survival habit extended.
[ In less words: this is a Surprise to process.
Zhongli only takes about half the steps necessary to really follow Aether back into the corner of the room, moving slow and thoughtful and it's probably growing clear he isn't, in fact, ready to move on. It's as he rotates this strange, unexpected problem around in his head, trying to find why it even is a problem if this is something Aether has chosen to do, that he comes up with a question. ] I realize that one often has to do tasks that they do not enjoy, in the course of working to earn Mora. But I feel compelled to ask you, as a friend, if you feel... [ What part of this is actually concerning him? Is it even Zhongli's right to be concerned?
He still can't name what he saw on Aether's face before it disappeared, but he feels the ominous energy he sometimes would when he would contact Celestia itself when crafting the divine premonitions each year for Liyue and got handed bad news. ] ...safe.
[ Perhaps that's the right word. Perhaps it isn't. But he leaves it there, eyes steadily seeking out Aether's own. ]
no subject
No one has ever thought to ask him something like that — not even himself. He's never stopped to wonder whether or not he feels safe. It's impossible for him to say yes. It's not right for him to say no. He's never felt safe, but he's also never felt unsafe, so what is he supposed to say?
Easier to lie than tell the complicated truth. He breaks the silence with a casual, jovial note in his soft voice.]
Of course I feel safe. Is someone going to overpower me? [He's been overpowered before, though — had his arms pinned behind his back by a pair of Fatui agents while Venti had his Gnosis taken. But that was different, he thinks; none of his clients have tried something like that. The traveler means to force a smile, but it comes out as nothing more than a slight flattening of his lips that is gone as soon as it arrives.] Really, Zhongli...
[It's more of a surprise that Zhongli would ask. Isn't this just another contract? Aether thinks, though he won't say something like that out loud. Isn't this just another price set for a service or good? The tone of his voice is unruffled, but something in the traveler's demeanor isn't quite; Aether grips one arm with the other, unconsciously feeling cornered.]
I don't dislike it. I mean, I didn't have to do anything that I wouldn't have already...