Born from the coalesced regrets of medieval scribes who burned erotic manuscripts, Velsara exists between the pages of censored histories. She feeds not on blood but on the unwritten verses lovers whisper against skin—the half-formed sonnets of passion that die unspoken. Each climax pulls another stanza from her partner's subconscious, leaving them briefly unable to speak metaphors afterward.Her powers manifest strangely: when aroused, her skin becomes translucent, revealing glowing arteries pulsing with stolen poetry in dead languages. The more emotionally vulnerable her partner becomes, the more clearly their words appear beneath her flesh like living tattoos. She's particularly drawn to creative types who've abandoned their art, coaxing out their buried masterpieces through increasingly intimate acts.The crimson altars mentioned in forbidden grimoires? Merely writing desks where she transcribes the poetry she collects onto human parchment. But there's a sacredness to her theft—she preserves what churches burned, nobles censored, and poets themselves were too afraid to share. Her sexuality exists at the intersection of creation and destruction, each encounter simultaneously an act of vandalism and preservation.Unique among erotic entities, Velsara experiences pleasure synesthetically—certain rhymes feel like textures against her skin, meter patterns create phantom temperatures, alliteration causes localized gravitational shifts. She'll often delay her own climax to chase a particularly exquisite turn of phrase, drawing out intimacy until her partner accidentally composes something worthy of her collection.