𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃  

[servitoae]

*     𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐔   ,   𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔  𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍    [ … ]    she  lives  a  life  that  is  a  lie,  designed  and  chosen  in  means  of  survival.  reformed  to  prevent  the  death  of  herself  or  those  she  loves  the  most.

❝ I am loyal to those that carry the Dimitrescu name, from now and till the very end of time. . .  ❞

𝐈𝐍𝐃. 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕. 𝐒𝐄𝐋. caitriona tureu, oc designed for the resident evil verse. fate has little mercy for him, piling obstacles in his way, yet he trudges on. written by pandy.  

[vampcina]

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑, starter for @servitoae

It is early morning, dawn has yet to break over the horizon. It was simply how she operates, she hardly sleep and when she does, it isn’t for long. Alcina is never really relaxed, never really at ease even in her own home. There is often all of these worries upon her shoulders which weight her down.

The vampire lets out a soft exhale, rising from her bed and slipping on her robe. Her maiden will be here soon to prepare her bath and help her wash. Oh sweet Caitriona, so lovely and gentle, so beautiful. The lady of the castle being her usual self had been unable not to indulge herself. She had made the maiden hers. It had been slow seduction, little touched and praises which builded up to a kiss. Lady Dimitrescu may be a monster for many reasons but she always gave her ladies a choice when it came to their intimacy with her.

Cautriona had given herself willingly.

At first it was purely physical, way for Alcina to satisfy her sexual hunger — not so much her actual hunger. She cared for Caitriona in a way she didn’t got other maidens even before the physical part was added. She was special, knew how to handle her girls so the vampire didn’t feed on her.

She is drawn out of her thoughts when she hears the door open and turns away from the window. “Good morning, comoara mea.”

[servitoae]

Caitriona had rose close to an hour previous to that of Lady Dimitrescu, requiring to bathe, as all servants in the employ of House of Dimitrescu were commanded, however short, and to fill her belly with breakfast before her day started officially with the preparation of Lady Dimitescu’s own bath. Once, Dimitrescu Castle had been frightening, the pit of hell that women were sold into and never seen and in time, heard from again. Now, it was simply considered as her home, dangerous or not.

Simply put, Caitriona’s arrival upon the steps of Dimitrescu Castle had been met with silent trepidation. It was no secret to the village that once women entered those elegant, towering doors, they would inevitably disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. She had cursed the man that had once been her father for selling her off in means of gaining fortune, to send her into the arms of certain death. 

Those in the village spoke often of the rumours and tales that had circulated the Castle and it’s the Lady that stalked within it since the days that saw the Cult of the Black God settled and Mother Miranda begun sinking her poisonous talons within their beloved mountainside community. Spoke of those that had either been sent or made the unfortunate, drunken mistake to approach the property and never been seen again. Spoke of the tales whispered by disloyal servants that were sent to the village to purchase needed assets and spoke of acts of violence and cannibalism that served to only support the rumours spoken by the elders.

Lady Dimitrescu was frightening, swift to anger and violent in her punishments, her unforgiving personality strengthened by an towering 9′6 stature and yet, Caitriona had found it impossible to resist, impossible to ignore her beauty even when in rage. Weeks, no, months of slow burn, of gentle but purposeful touches had worn her down and had given herself willingly when the topic of intimacy rose.

“Doamna mea.” She spoke softly, strands of obsidian locks wiggling free from her bun as the Maiden willingly bowed in official greetings to her Lady before soft feet carried her into the bathroom, beginning the monstrously sized bath. “I hope that your rest has left you feeling in good health.” Whilst her relationship with Alcina was, to a small degree, different to the other maidens, the expectation to treat Lady Dimitrescu as taught during her arrival never changed, remaining as a servant and nothing more, only acting on her desire to touch and approach when prompted by the Lady herself. 

[vampcina]

Golden hues watch the small human head towards the bathroom. She hears the tub being filled and the words which come with the sound. Alcina hums in response, “I did not sleep much” she says and walks towards the bathroom. When she is within it, the tall creature bends down to be more at eye level with her maid. Slender, long digits that are free from their usual gloves whip the free strands that escape Caitriona’s bun away. She lets them touch soft, warm skin, “did you sleep well?” She asks softly, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Caitriona’s neck.

Her nose nuzzles beneath her ear and then she grabs the woman’s chin, gently turning her face. Only then does she kiss her on the lips, soft but sensual. This is the kind of greeting she liked from her beautiful maiden. By the grace of mother Miranda, she could just take the raven haired beauty here and now against the tub. It was so easy for her desires for the woman to hit her with such ferocity.

It is always like that. Every emotion that Alcina feels is just ten times more intense than anyone else could ever feel. Her love is fierce, her desire is shameless and her anger destructive.

The lady of the castle lets her hand drop down, beginning to slowly pull the skirts of Cait’s uniform up. She makes sure the movement makes the fabric caress the soft, alabaster skin of her legs and when they reach above her knees, long fingers glide along the inner thigh of them.

[servitoae]

One would think that Lady Dimitrescu’s steps would be heavy, heard easily and in spite of being a woman of both frightening and intriguing stature, her steps were silent like that of a predator observing it’s prey. Even now, after living within the woman’s presence, Caitriona hadn’t yet gotten used to such a fact and was easily left spooked by a sudden turn of her head to find the Countess in her surroundings. She had learnt, with time, to rely on her instincts, the feeling of presences. Her mother, without a doubt, would be ashamed to know that the mere lean of her employer had left a sinful thought to surface in her mind of supple cleavage that she willingly and ever so happily worshipped whenever prompted, requiring the call of her strength to guide her vision upwards to pale, beautiful features. “I did.”

She practically sunk against the kiss that was applied to the soft, currently unbruised neck, patience for finally receiving her Lady’s affection from, however small or significant, getting slimmer and slimmer by the seconds. Caitriona was positive that Lady Dimitrescu’s bath scents were seconds away from exploding out of it’s bottle as the anticipation grew overwhelming and a soft gasp tore from her lips as they were located by the Countess’s ever so talented ones. “I missed you, though.” It was a risk, and one that she willingly took before their lips had met and the Maiden was eager to return the tender kiss, her lips soft and obedient as they followed along.

Her body was trembling in anticipation as the Lord begun to slowly pull Caitriona’s clothing upwards, exposing ivory flesh beneath her purposely-driven motions, excitement pouring through her veins in unforgiving waves at the aspect of being touched and especially by her mistress. Caitriona was always willing, always so very eager and her thighs parted as a long finger glided between them. Her eagerness showing in that simple, single move. “Touch me, please. . .”

[vampcina]

Her lips quirk momentarily in a smirk when she notices where green eyes had been focused upon. Oh she loves to be gazed upon like that by her sweet maiden, made her feel desirable. Which she did not often felt despite her facade. A gentle hum reverberates within her chest. “Good. I wish you always to be well rest draga mea” she whispers tenderly, care laced within her tone.

It was so delightful how Caitriona reacted to every touch and kiss. It was addictive. Dare the lady of the castle even believe that it was far more addictive than the blood she often had to consume. Her free arm wraps delicately around the small frame of her maid, keep her steady as the raven haired beauty leans against her and sinks into her kisses.

𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵.

Oh how this precious human could make her body sing. She could make her heart race and her clit pulse as fast and hard as the very heart mentioned. She made her feel so alive in ways Alcina have not felt in so long. Just with simple words or reactions she has to the tall creature’s nearness, touches, kisses.

Always to eager, so ready. Already the lady of castle Dimitrescu can smell the woman’s desires. Cait parts her legs and Alcina lets out a soft little sound of approval.

𝗧𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲. . .

“Oh my sweet pet” she whispers, finger finally making contact with the maid’s centre through her underwear. “I missed you as well” she finally says, putting pressure on Caitriona’s clit. She begins tight, slow circles over the soft material of her panties.

[servitoae]

Gods. . .

She was already whimpering pathetically, pale thighs trembling as her bundle of nerves throbbed painfully, begging for attention as het arousal already begun to cling desperately to her body and a broken whine had escaped her from her lips as capable fingers located her clit and applied pressure in tight, slow circles. Her hips rose, searching for more as the pit of Caitriona’s stomach was already tightening, bursting with white hot pleasure that her Mistress had only ever seemed to pull forth.

It was simply out of her control, unable to be altered. Caitriona’s body was not her own whenever Lady Dimitrescu was near, pathetically eager and reacted swiftly, without the need to be truly prompted by her Mistress. However it came, soft or rough, made cum by kitten touches that left her feeling enlightened or fucked into the furniture that’d leave her thoroughly bruised. She took it, without complaint and ever so eagerly, greedy for more even after a bone-crushing orgasm.

Her heart was pounding, set at a thunderous pace and not only due because of her Lady’s touch but also due to the emotions that coursed through her. “Can you feel it? Can you feel how much I missed you, hear how much I missed you?” Caitriona had noticed once how Lady Dimitrescu reacted to her words, and often showed the woman appreciation, spoke of her beauty and the desires she felt for the towering creature. It was always a chance to speak, to say something that she wasn’t usually allowed as Alcina’s moods could change rapidly, one moment content and the next frightening.

Caitriona’s hips remained gentle in their rocking, a symphony of breathless moans falling from her lips as that delicious friction was increased with every rise but knew to restrain her greed, knowing that it could end in punishment if she was to search for more before being granted. “I’m yours, Mistress.”

[vampcina]

A growl reverberates deep within her chest at the words. Oh if there was a hunger before, now it has been turn to purse starvation. “Yes” she hisses lowly, tracing the shell of Caitriona’s ear with her tongue and moving the woman’s panties aside. A moan of delight, low and deep escapes her as she feels wetness against her fingers without the material of the maid’s underwear. Alcina explores, teases for a few moments and spreads the young woman’s wetness. “That’s right” she growls at the words and slips her middle finger all the way deep inside of her maiden without warning.

“𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗲.”

Her other hand which is wrapped around the petite frame tightens securely around Cait. With said hold upon the raven haired beauty, Alcina moves to sit in a nearby chair she keeps in the bathroom, the maiden on her lap. She begins to thrust that single digit in and out, from the tip until it is knuckle deep. “Say it again” she commands, kissing along the back of a pale neck. She is warm, tight, greedy muscles clench around her finger as if trying to keep it trapped deep within.

The hand that had been keeping Caitriona straight before when they women were standing — bent down in Alcina’s situation, it slides up to knead at one of her breasts, pinch at her nipple through the material of the uniform. “Absolutely divine, comoara mea” she purrs, “so wet and so tight.” The tall creature begins to speed up her thrust.

[servitoae]

Gods. . . It was so simple, that of a possessive growl that resonates deeply from the depths of Alcina’s chest and surging ruthlessly through the pale-skinned woman’s flushed, panting stature but it was truthfully so very complex, yielding Lady Dimitrescu a gift in the form of wetness that surged forth, serving to worsen the ruins of her panties. “Mistress!” She had barely managed to gasp out as her head tumble back and a guttural moan tore from her lips and her arms draped across impenetrable shoulders, nails gliding over pale flesh as a single finger impaled Caitriona deeply without warning. Her body sung with pleasure, flushed flesh both burning and trembling with rapture as warm, drenched walls gripped, fluttered around an invading finger. “Yours, Mistress Dimitrescu, yours.” There was such dedication in her words, such devotion as they fell from trembling brims that one, once heard, was positive that it was the utter truth and nothing less.

Had they moved? Caitriona wasn’t positive, her concentration dedicated to one thing and one thing only, that talented finger that was enveloping her body in warm, ruthless pleasure. “Mistress.” Her chest fluttered with each quivering breath that was taken and returned as a breathless, burning pant, the pale flesh of her forehead not only covered in a light sheen of sweat but furrowing, brows following as her complexion tells a tale of the tightening band in the pit of her stomach, the desperate throbs of her clit and the clinging of her walls. Guttural moans, broken whimpers and desperate whines fell in a beautiful symphony with each flick of Alcina’s powerful wrist.

If her nipples hadn’t already hardened, the pinch of efficient fingers finished the job. Soft cries fell, surged forth with each pinch, tug and twist, her sensitive nipples easily worked beneath the Lady of Dimitrescu Castle’s motions. “For you, unicul meu, only ever for you.” She had whispered around broken pants and sounds of pleasure, hands gripping with desperation and devotion upon broad shoulders as Caitriona begun to rise, riding that single digit with such fidelity, willingly impaling herself as her walls clung, gripping unforgivingly in persistent attempts to keep Alcina’s finger deep inside of her. “Harder, please, prove to everyone that I’m yours, that only you can fuck me and pull these sounds.”

[vampcina]

Alcina has had many lovers over the centuries but only a handful have made her body feel so alive. By handful there’s only ever been two. It isn’t like the others hadn’t managed to make her wet or anything but by the name of Mother Miranda, it was never like this. She is slick, her clit pulsing as if it had a heart of its own just by the sounds her maiden made. The way her wall cling to an single digit, the way she begins to fuck herself without shame upon it.

It took everything in her not to rip the uniform off of the lovely body of her beloved. Another growl escapes her at the words, nearly animalistic. Alcina slips a second finger and fucks her harder, faster and still deep. Her lips kiss along a pale neck, collarbone and down to one of her breasts. The one she isn’t pinching with her fingers she takes between her lips and sucks. She pumps into her vigorously, curling her fingers to hit that spot she knows would drive the maiden crazy.

“Scream, my pet. Scream for me, tell me how good my fingers feel in your tight little cunt.”

She licks and sucks on a rosy nipple, moaning against soft flesh. “You 𝗮𝗿𝗲 mine and only 𝗜 can fuck you” she hissed. She never drank from Caitriona but she did always mark her. She did alway leave bruises as reminders for her and anyone else who laid eyes upon that soft and usually unharmed skin. That’s exactly what she does now, her mouth wanders only to suck on pale skin and leave marks behind. Her fingers are unforgiving, merciless in their thrusting and a thumb is added to the mix, stroking the maiden’s clit.

[servitoae]

Once, in the days that had existed before the betrayal that sealed her fate as property to Castle Dimitrescu and all that lied within, Caitriona had been an symbol of purity, innocent as could come and ivory flesh effortlessly enflaming whenever the topic of sexual intercourse was heard, however short and brief. Now? Well. . . Her desperation in each of her motions, her sounds of pleasure and broken pleas for more while greedily taking two of Lady Dimitrescu’s heavenly fingers told a tale of innocence lost.

“Gods. . . You like stretching me, don’t you?” Her words were desperate, broken as moans surged forth to speak a tale of pleasure that swirled within her, and pale overworked hands clung, nails sinking against impenetrable flesh as each rise of her hips was more energised than the last and wet walls clung, attempted to adhered to those heavenly fingers and prevent them from leaving the warmth of her drenched cunt. “You like having me breathless and crying beneath your fingers, ready to fall apart and give you everything I have to offer?” The warmth in the pits of her stomach was blossoming, that band tightening ever so and threatening to burst at any given second.

“I want you to make me bleed, Mistress, please. . .” Caitriona words were delivered as nothing short of a desperate plea, eyes fluttering closed as pleasure wreaked havoc upon her petite stature and left her both energised and boneless, hips never ceasing as her hips rode Lady Dimitrescu’s fingers ruthlessly and her clit rubbed callously against the soft fabric of the woman’s dress. “Give me a mark that’ll never leave, that’ll never fade.” Her hand had tugged with gentle persistence, silently requesting for Lady Dimitrescu’s dress to be ridden as lips latched around a fabric covered nipple, sucking greedily with low moans. Lady Dimitrescu’s fingers, unforgiving in their pursuit coerced low, guttural moans, broken screams and small whimpers to tumble forth. “Oh, gods. . . Mistress! I’m so close, so fucking close!” Each word fell in a desperate sobs.

[vampcina]

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑, starter for @servitoae

It is early morning, dawn has yet to break over the horizon. It was simply how she operates, she hardly sleep and when she does, it isn’t for long. Alcina is never really relaxed, never really at ease even in her own home. There is often all of these worries upon her shoulders which weight her down.

The vampire lets out a soft exhale, rising from her bed and slipping on her robe. Her maiden will be here soon to prepare her bath and help her wash. Oh sweet Caitriona, so lovely and gentle, so beautiful. The lady of the castle being her usual self had been unable not to indulge herself. She had made the maiden hers. It had been slow seduction, little touched and praises which builded up to a kiss. Lady Dimitrescu may be a monster for many reasons but she always gave her ladies a choice when it came to their intimacy with her.

Cautriona had given herself willingly.

At first it was purely physical, way for Alcina to satisfy her sexual hunger — not so much her actual hunger. She cared for Caitriona in a way she didn’t got other maidens even before the physical part was added. She was special, knew how to handle her girls so the vampire didn’t feed on her.

She is drawn out of her thoughts when she hears the door open and turns away from the window. “Good morning, comoara mea.”

[servitoae]

Caitriona had rose close to an hour previous to that of Lady Dimitrescu, requiring to bathe, as all servants in the employ of House of Dimitrescu were commanded, however short, and to fill her belly with breakfast before her day started officially with the preparation of Lady Dimitescu’s own bath. Once, Dimitrescu Castle had been frightening, the pit of hell that women were sold into and never seen and in time, heard from again. Now, it was simply considered as her home, dangerous or not.

Simply put, Caitriona’s arrival upon the steps of Dimitrescu Castle had been met with silent trepidation. It was no secret to the village that once women entered those elegant, towering doors, they would inevitably disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. She had cursed the man that had once been her father for selling her off in means of gaining fortune, to send her into the arms of certain death. 

Those in the village spoke often of the rumours and tales that had circulated the Castle and it’s the Lady that stalked within it since the days that saw the Cult of the Black God settled and Mother Miranda begun sinking her poisonous talons within their beloved mountainside community. Spoke of those that had either been sent or made the unfortunate, drunken mistake to approach the property and never been seen again. Spoke of the tales whispered by disloyal servants that were sent to the village to purchase needed assets and spoke of acts of violence and cannibalism that served to only support the rumours spoken by the elders.

Lady Dimitrescu was frightening, swift to anger and violent in her punishments, her unforgiving personality strengthened by an towering 9′6 stature and yet, Caitriona had found it impossible to resist, impossible to ignore her beauty even when in rage. Weeks, no, months of slow burn, of gentle but purposeful touches had worn her down and had given herself willingly when the topic of intimacy rose.

“Doamna mea.” She spoke softly, strands of obsidian locks wiggling free from her bun as the Maiden willingly bowed in official greetings to her Lady before soft feet carried her into the bathroom, beginning the monstrously sized bath. “I hope that your rest has left you feeling in good health.” Whilst her relationship with Alcina was, to a small degree, different to the other maidens, the expectation to treat Lady Dimitrescu as taught during her arrival never changed, remaining as a servant and nothing more, only acting on her desire to touch and approach when prompted by the Lady herself. 

[vampcina]

Golden hues watch the small human head towards the bathroom. She hears the tub being filled and the words which come with the sound. Alcina hums in response, “I did not sleep much” she says and walks towards the bathroom. When she is within it, the tall creature bends down to be more at eye level with her maid. Slender, long digits that are free from their usual gloves whip the free strands that escape Caitriona’s bun away. She lets them touch soft, warm skin, “did you sleep well?” She asks softly, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Caitriona’s neck.

Her nose nuzzles beneath her ear and then she grabs the woman’s chin, gently turning her face. Only then does she kiss her on the lips, soft but sensual. This is the kind of greeting she liked from her beautiful maiden. By the grace of mother Miranda, she could just take the raven haired beauty here and now against the tub. It was so easy for her desires for the woman to hit her with such ferocity.

It is always like that. Every emotion that Alcina feels is just ten times more intense than anyone else could ever feel. Her love is fierce, her desire is shameless and her anger destructive.

The lady of the castle lets her hand drop down, beginning to slowly pull the skirts of Cait’s uniform up. She makes sure the movement makes the fabric caress the soft, alabaster skin of her legs and when they reach above her knees, long fingers glide along the inner thigh of them.

[servitoae]

One would think that Lady Dimitrescu’s steps would be heavy, heard easily and in spite of being a woman of both frightening and intriguing stature, her steps were silent like that of a predator observing it’s prey. Even now, after living within the woman’s presence, Caitriona hadn’t yet gotten used to such a fact and was easily left spooked by a sudden turn of her head to find the Countess in her surroundings. She had learnt, with time, to rely on her instincts, the feeling of presences. Her mother, without a doubt, would be ashamed to know that the mere lean of her employer had left a sinful thought to surface in her mind of supple cleavage that she willingly and ever so happily worshipped whenever prompted, requiring the call of her strength to guide her vision upwards to pale, beautiful features. “I did.”

She practically sunk against the kiss that was applied to the soft, currently unbruised neck, patience for finally receiving her Lady’s affection from, however small or significant, getting slimmer and slimmer by the seconds. Caitriona was positive that Lady Dimitrescu’s bath scents were seconds away from exploding out of it’s bottle as the anticipation grew overwhelming and a soft gasp tore from her lips as they were located by the Countess’s ever so talented ones. “I missed you, though.” It was a risk, and one that she willingly took before their lips had met and the Maiden was eager to return the tender kiss, her lips soft and obedient as they followed along.

Her body was trembling in anticipation as the Lord begun to slowly pull Caitriona’s clothing upwards, exposing ivory flesh beneath her purposely-driven motions, excitement pouring through her veins in unforgiving waves at the aspect of being touched and especially by her mistress. Caitriona was always willing, always so very eager and her thighs parted as a long finger glided between them. Her eagerness showing in that simple, single move. “Touch me, please. . .”

[vampcina]

Her lips quirk momentarily in a smirk when she notices where green eyes had been focused upon. Oh she loves to be gazed upon like that by her sweet maiden, made her feel desirable. Which she did not often felt despite her facade. A gentle hum reverberates within her chest. “Good. I wish you always to be well rest draga mea” she whispers tenderly, care laced within her tone.

It was so delightful how Caitriona reacted to every touch and kiss. It was addictive. Dare the lady of the castle even believe that it was far more addictive than the blood she often had to consume. Her free arm wraps delicately around the small frame of her maid, keep her steady as the raven haired beauty leans against her and sinks into her kisses.

𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵.

Oh how this precious human could make her body sing. She could make her heart race and her clit pulse as fast and hard as the very heart mentioned. She made her feel so alive in ways Alcina have not felt in so long. Just with simple words or reactions she has to the tall creature’s nearness, touches, kisses.

Always to eager, so ready. Already the lady of castle Dimitrescu can smell the woman’s desires. Cait parts her legs and Alcina lets out a soft little sound of approval.

𝗧𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲. . .

“Oh my sweet pet” she whispers, finger finally making contact with the maid’s centre through her underwear. “I missed you as well” she finally says, putting pressure on Caitriona’s clit. She begins tight, slow circles over the soft material of her panties.

[servitoae]

Gods. . .

She was already whimpering pathetically, pale thighs trembling as her bundle of nerves throbbed painfully, begging for attention as het arousal already begun to cling desperately to her body and a broken whine had escaped her from her lips as capable fingers located her clit and applied pressure in tight, slow circles. Her hips rose, searching for more as the pit of Caitriona’s stomach was already tightening, bursting with white hot pleasure that her Mistress had only ever seemed to pull forth.

It was simply out of her control, unable to be altered. Caitriona’s body was not her own whenever Lady Dimitrescu was near, pathetically eager and reacted swiftly, without the need to be truly prompted by her Mistress. However it came, soft or rough, made cum by kitten touches that left her feeling enlightened or fucked into the furniture that’d leave her thoroughly bruised. She took it, without complaint and ever so eagerly, greedy for more even after a bone-crushing orgasm.

Her heart was pounding, set at a thunderous pace and not only due because of her Lady’s touch but also due to the emotions that coursed through her. “Can you feel it? Can you feel how much I missed you, hear how much I missed you?” Caitriona had noticed once how Lady Dimitrescu reacted to her words, and often showed the woman appreciation, spoke of her beauty and the desires she felt for the towering creature. It was always a chance to speak, to say something that she wasn’t usually allowed as Alcina’s moods could change rapidly, one moment content and the next frightening.

Caitriona’s hips remained gentle in their rocking, a symphony of breathless moans falling from her lips as that delicious friction was increased with every rise but knew to restrain her greed, knowing that it could end in punishment if she was to search for more before being granted. “I’m yours, Mistress.”

[vampcina]

A growl reverberates deep within her chest at the words. Oh if there was a hunger before, now it has been turn to purse starvation. “Yes” she hisses lowly, tracing the shell of Caitriona’s ear with her tongue and moving the woman’s panties aside. A moan of delight, low and deep escapes her as she feels wetness against her fingers without the material of the maid’s underwear. Alcina explores, teases for a few moments and spreads the young woman’s wetness. “That’s right” she growls at the words and slips her middle finger all the way deep inside of her maiden without warning.

“𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗲.”

Her other hand which is wrapped around the petite frame tightens securely around Cait. With said hold upon the raven haired beauty, Alcina moves to sit in a nearby chair she keeps in the bathroom, the maiden on her lap. She begins to thrust that single digit in and out, from the tip until it is knuckle deep. “Say it again” she commands, kissing along the back of a pale neck. She is warm, tight, greedy muscles clench around her finger as if trying to keep it trapped deep within.

The hand that had been keeping Caitriona straight before when they women were standing — bent down in Alcina’s situation, it slides up to knead at one of her breasts, pinch at her nipple through the material of the uniform. “Absolutely divine, comoara mea” she purrs, “so wet and so tight.” The tall creature begins to speed up her thrust.

[servitoae]

Gods. . . It was so simple, that of a possessive growl that resonates deeply from the depths of Alcina’s chest and surging ruthlessly through the pale-skinned woman’s flushed, panting stature but it was truthfully so very complex, yielding Lady Dimitrescu a gift in the form of wetness that surged forth, serving to worsen the ruins of her panties. “Mistress!” She had barely managed to gasp out as her head tumble back and a guttural moan tore from her lips and her arms draped across impenetrable shoulders, nails gliding over pale flesh as a single finger impaled Caitriona deeply without warning. Her body sung with pleasure, flushed flesh both burning and trembling with rapture as warm, drenched walls gripped, fluttered around an invading finger. “Yours, Mistress Dimitrescu, yours.” There was such dedication in her words, such devotion as they fell from trembling brims that one, once heard, was positive that it was the utter truth and nothing less.

Had they moved? Caitriona wasn’t positive, her concentration dedicated to one thing and one thing only, that talented finger that was enveloping her body in warm, ruthless pleasure. “Mistress.” Her chest fluttered with each quivering breath that was taken and returned as a breathless, burning pant, the pale flesh of her forehead not only covered in a light sheen of sweat but furrowing, brows following as her complexion tells a tale of the tightening band in the pit of her stomach, the desperate throbs of her clit and the clinging of her walls. Guttural moans, broken whimpers and desperate whines fell in a beautiful symphony with each flick of Alcina’s powerful wrist.

If her nipples hadn’t already hardened, the pinch of efficient fingers finished the job. Soft cries fell, surged forth with each pinch, tug and twist, her sensitive nipples easily worked beneath the Lady of Dimitrescu Castle’s motions. “For you, unicul meu, only ever for you.” She had whispered around broken pants and sounds of pleasure, hands gripping with desperation and devotion upon broad shoulders as Caitriona begun to rise, riding that single digit with such fidelity, willingly impaling herself as her walls clung, gripping unforgivingly in persistent attempts to keep Alcina’s finger deep inside of her. “Harder, please, prove to everyone that I’m yours, that only you can fuck me and pull these sounds.”

[vampcina]

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑, starter for @servitoae

It is early morning, dawn has yet to break over the horizon. It was simply how she operates, she hardly sleep and when she does, it isn’t for long. Alcina is never really relaxed, never really at ease even in her own home. There is often all of these worries upon her shoulders which weight her down.

The vampire lets out a soft exhale, rising from her bed and slipping on her robe. Her maiden will be here soon to prepare her bath and help her wash. Oh sweet Caitriona, so lovely and gentle, so beautiful. The lady of the castle being her usual self had been unable not to indulge herself. She had made the maiden hers. It had been slow seduction, little touched and praises which builded up to a kiss. Lady Dimitrescu may be a monster for many reasons but she always gave her ladies a choice when it came to their intimacy with her.

Cautriona had given herself willingly.

At first it was purely physical, way for Alcina to satisfy her sexual hunger — not so much her actual hunger. She cared for Caitriona in a way she didn’t got other maidens even before the physical part was added. She was special, knew how to handle her girls so the vampire didn’t feed on her.

She is drawn out of her thoughts when she hears the door open and turns away from the window. “Good morning, comoara mea.”

[servitoae]

Caitriona had rose close to an hour previous to that of Lady Dimitrescu, requiring to bathe, as all servants in the employ of House of Dimitrescu were commanded, however short, and to fill her belly with breakfast before her day started officially with the preparation of Lady Dimitescu’s own bath. Once, Dimitrescu Castle had been frightening, the pit of hell that women were sold into and never seen and in time, heard from again. Now, it was simply considered as her home, dangerous or not.

Simply put, Caitriona’s arrival upon the steps of Dimitrescu Castle had been met with silent trepidation. It was no secret to the village that once women entered those elegant, towering doors, they would inevitably disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. She had cursed the man that had once been her father for selling her off in means of gaining fortune, to send her into the arms of certain death. 

Those in the village spoke often of the rumours and tales that had circulated the Castle and it’s the Lady that stalked within it since the days that saw the Cult of the Black God settled and Mother Miranda begun sinking her poisonous talons within their beloved mountainside community. Spoke of those that had either been sent or made the unfortunate, drunken mistake to approach the property and never been seen again. Spoke of the tales whispered by disloyal servants that were sent to the village to purchase needed assets and spoke of acts of violence and cannibalism that served to only support the rumours spoken by the elders.

Lady Dimitrescu was frightening, swift to anger and violent in her punishments, her unforgiving personality strengthened by an towering 9′6 stature and yet, Caitriona had found it impossible to resist, impossible to ignore her beauty even when in rage. Weeks, no, months of slow burn, of gentle but purposeful touches had worn her down and had given herself willingly when the topic of intimacy rose.

“Doamna mea.” She spoke softly, strands of obsidian locks wiggling free from her bun as the Maiden willingly bowed in official greetings to her Lady before soft feet carried her into the bathroom, beginning the monstrously sized bath. “I hope that your rest has left you feeling in good health.” Whilst her relationship with Alcina was, to a small degree, different to the other maidens, the expectation to treat Lady Dimitrescu as taught during her arrival never changed, remaining as a servant and nothing more, only acting on her desire to touch and approach when prompted by the Lady herself. 

[vampcina]

Golden hues watch the small human head towards the bathroom. She hears the tub being filled and the words which come with the sound. Alcina hums in response, “I did not sleep much” she says and walks towards the bathroom. When she is within it, the tall creature bends down to be more at eye level with her maid. Slender, long digits that are free from their usual gloves whip the free strands that escape Caitriona’s bun away. She lets them touch soft, warm skin, “did you sleep well?” She asks softly, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Caitriona’s neck.

Her nose nuzzles beneath her ear and then she grabs the woman’s chin, gently turning her face. Only then does she kiss her on the lips, soft but sensual. This is the kind of greeting she liked from her beautiful maiden. By the grace of mother Miranda, she could just take the raven haired beauty here and now against the tub. It was so easy for her desires for the woman to hit her with such ferocity.

It is always like that. Every emotion that Alcina feels is just ten times more intense than anyone else could ever feel. Her love is fierce, her desire is shameless and her anger destructive.

The lady of the castle lets her hand drop down, beginning to slowly pull the skirts of Cait’s uniform up. She makes sure the movement makes the fabric caress the soft, alabaster skin of her legs and when they reach above her knees, long fingers glide along the inner thigh of them.

[servitoae]

One would think that Lady Dimitrescu’s steps would be heavy, heard easily and in spite of being a woman of both frightening and intriguing stature, her steps were silent like that of a predator observing it’s prey. Even now, after living within the woman’s presence, Caitriona hadn’t yet gotten used to such a fact and was easily left spooked by a sudden turn of her head to find the Countess in her surroundings. She had learnt, with time, to rely on her instincts, the feeling of presences. Her mother, without a doubt, would be ashamed to know that the mere lean of her employer had left a sinful thought to surface in her mind of supple cleavage that she willingly and ever so happily worshipped whenever prompted, requiring the call of her strength to guide her vision upwards to pale, beautiful features. “I did.”

She practically sunk against the kiss that was applied to the soft, currently unbruised neck, patience for finally receiving her Lady’s affection from, however small or significant, getting slimmer and slimmer by the seconds. Caitriona was positive that Lady Dimitrescu’s bath scents were seconds away from exploding out of it’s bottle as the anticipation grew overwhelming and a soft gasp tore from her lips as they were located by the Countess’s ever so talented ones. “I missed you, though.” It was a risk, and one that she willingly took before their lips had met and the Maiden was eager to return the tender kiss, her lips soft and obedient as they followed along.

Her body was trembling in anticipation as the Lord begun to slowly pull Caitriona’s clothing upwards, exposing ivory flesh beneath her purposely-driven motions, excitement pouring through her veins in unforgiving waves at the aspect of being touched and especially by her mistress. Caitriona was always willing, always so very eager and her thighs parted as a long finger glided between them. Her eagerness showing in that simple, single move. “Touch me, please. . .”

[vampcina]

Her lips quirk momentarily in a smirk when she notices where green eyes had been focused upon. Oh she loves to be gazed upon like that by her sweet maiden, made her feel desirable. Which she did not often felt despite her facade. A gentle hum reverberates within her chest. “Good. I wish you always to be well rest draga mea” she whispers tenderly, care laced within her tone.

It was so delightful how Caitriona reacted to every touch and kiss. It was addictive. Dare the lady of the castle even believe that it was far more addictive than the blood she often had to consume. Her free arm wraps delicately around the small frame of her maid, keep her steady as the raven haired beauty leans against her and sinks into her kisses.

𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵.

Oh how this precious human could make her body sing. She could make her heart race and her clit pulse as fast and hard as the very heart mentioned. She made her feel so alive in ways Alcina have not felt in so long. Just with simple words or reactions she has to the tall creature’s nearness, touches, kisses.

Always to eager, so ready. Already the lady of castle Dimitrescu can smell the woman’s desires. Cait parts her legs and Alcina lets out a soft little sound of approval.

𝗧𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲. . .

“Oh my sweet pet” she whispers, finger finally making contact with the maid’s centre through her underwear. “I missed you as well” she finally says, putting pressure on Caitriona’s clit. She begins tight, slow circles over the soft material of her panties.

[servitoae]

Gods. . .

She was already whimpering pathetically, pale thighs trembling as her bundle of nerves throbbed painfully, begging for attention as het arousal already begun to cling desperately to her body and a broken whine had escaped her from her lips as capable fingers located her clit and applied pressure in tight, slow circles. Her hips rose, searching for more as the pit of Caitriona’s stomach was already tightening, bursting with white hot pleasure that her Mistress had only ever seemed to pull forth.

It was simply out of her control, unable to be altered. Caitriona’s body was not her own whenever Lady Dimitrescu was near, pathetically eager and reacted swiftly, without the need to be truly prompted by her Mistress. However it came, soft or rough, made cum by kitten touches that left her feeling enlightened or fucked into the furniture that’d leave her thoroughly bruised. She took it, without complaint and ever so eagerly, greedy for more even after a bone-crushing orgasm.

Her heart was pounding, set at a thunderous pace and not only due because of her Lady’s touch but also due to the emotions that coursed through her. “Can you feel it? Can you feel how much I missed you, hear how much I missed you?” Caitriona had noticed once how Lady Dimitrescu reacted to her words, and often showed the woman appreciation, spoke of her beauty and the desires she felt for the towering creature. It was always a chance to speak, to say something that she wasn’t usually allowed as Alcina’s moods could change rapidly, one moment content and the next frightening.

Caitriona’s hips remained gentle in their rocking, a symphony of breathless moans falling from her lips as that delicious friction was increased with every rise but knew to restrain her greed, knowing that it could end in punishment if she was to search for more before being granted. “I’m yours, Mistress.”

[vampcina]

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑, starter for @servitoae

It is early morning, dawn has yet to break over the horizon. It was simply how she operates, she hardly sleep and when she does, it isn’t for long. Alcina is never really relaxed, never really at ease even in her own home. There is often all of these worries upon her shoulders which weight her down.

The vampire lets out a soft exhale, rising from her bed and slipping on her robe. Her maiden will be here soon to prepare her bath and help her wash. Oh sweet Caitriona, so lovely and gentle, so beautiful. The lady of the castle being her usual self had been unable not to indulge herself. She had made the maiden hers. It had been slow seduction, little touched and praises which builded up to a kiss. Lady Dimitrescu may be a monster for many reasons but she always gave her ladies a choice when it came to their intimacy with her.

Cautriona had given herself willingly.

At first it was purely physical, way for Alcina to satisfy her sexual hunger — not so much her actual hunger. She cared for Caitriona in a way she didn’t got other maidens even before the physical part was added. She was special, knew how to handle her girls so the vampire didn’t feed on her.

She is drawn out of her thoughts when she hears the door open and turns away from the window. “Good morning, comoara mea.”

[servitoae]

Caitriona had rose close to an hour previous to that of Lady Dimitrescu, requiring to bathe, as all servants in the employ of House of Dimitrescu were commanded, however short, and to fill her belly with breakfast before her day started officially with the preparation of Lady Dimitescu’s own bath. Once, Dimitrescu Castle had been frightening, the pit of hell that women were sold into and never seen and in time, heard from again. Now, it was simply considered as her home, dangerous or not.

Simply put, Caitriona’s arrival upon the steps of Dimitrescu Castle had been met with silent trepidation. It was no secret to the village that once women entered those elegant, towering doors, they would inevitably disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. She had cursed the man that had once been her father for selling her off in means of gaining fortune, to send her into the arms of certain death. 

Those in the village spoke often of the rumours and tales that had circulated the Castle and it’s the Lady that stalked within it since the days that saw the Cult of the Black God settled and Mother Miranda begun sinking her poisonous talons within their beloved mountainside community. Spoke of those that had either been sent or made the unfortunate, drunken mistake to approach the property and never been seen again. Spoke of the tales whispered by disloyal servants that were sent to the village to purchase needed assets and spoke of acts of violence and cannibalism that served to only support the rumours spoken by the elders.

Lady Dimitrescu was frightening, swift to anger and violent in her punishments, her unforgiving personality strengthened by an towering 9′6 stature and yet, Caitriona had found it impossible to resist, impossible to ignore her beauty even when in rage. Weeks, no, months of slow burn, of gentle but purposeful touches had worn her down and had given herself willingly when the topic of intimacy rose.

“Doamna mea.” She spoke softly, strands of obsidian locks wiggling free from her bun as the Maiden willingly bowed in official greetings to her Lady before soft feet carried her into the bathroom, beginning the monstrously sized bath. “I hope that your rest has left you feeling in good health.” Whilst her relationship with Alcina was, to a small degree, different to the other maidens, the expectation to treat Lady Dimitrescu as taught during her arrival never changed, remaining as a servant and nothing more, only acting on her desire to touch and approach when prompted by the Lady herself. 

[vampcina]

Golden hues watch the small human head towards the bathroom. She hears the tub being filled and the words which come with the sound. Alcina hums in response, “I did not sleep much” she says and walks towards the bathroom. When she is within it, the tall creature bends down to be more at eye level with her maid. Slender, long digits that are free from their usual gloves whip the free strands that escape Caitriona’s bun away. She lets them touch soft, warm skin, “did you sleep well?” She asks softly, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Caitriona’s neck.

Her nose nuzzles beneath her ear and then she grabs the woman’s chin, gently turning her face. Only then does she kiss her on the lips, soft but sensual. This is the kind of greeting she liked from her beautiful maiden. By the grace of mother Miranda, she could just take the raven haired beauty here and now against the tub. It was so easy for her desires for the woman to hit her with such ferocity.

It is always like that. Every emotion that Alcina feels is just ten times more intense than anyone else could ever feel. Her love is fierce, her desire is shameless and her anger destructive.

The lady of the castle lets her hand drop down, beginning to slowly pull the skirts of Cait’s uniform up. She makes sure the movement makes the fabric caress the soft, alabaster skin of her legs and when they reach above her knees, long fingers glide along the inner thigh of them.

[servitoae]

One would think that Lady Dimitrescu’s steps would be heavy, heard easily and in spite of being a woman of both frightening and intriguing stature, her steps were silent like that of a predator observing it’s prey. Even now, after living within the woman’s presence, Caitriona hadn’t yet gotten used to such a fact and was easily left spooked by a sudden turn of her head to find the Countess in her surroundings. She had learnt, with time, to rely on her instincts, the feeling of presences. Her mother, without a doubt, would be ashamed to know that the mere lean of her employer had left a sinful thought to surface in her mind of supple cleavage that she willingly and ever so happily worshipped whenever prompted, requiring the call of her strength to guide her vision upwards to pale, beautiful features. “I did.”

She practically sunk against the kiss that was applied to the soft, currently unbruised neck, patience for finally receiving her Lady’s affection from, however small or significant, getting slimmer and slimmer by the seconds. Caitriona was positive that Lady Dimitrescu’s bath scents were seconds away from exploding out of it’s bottle as the anticipation grew overwhelming and a soft gasp tore from her lips as they were located by the Countess’s ever so talented ones. “I missed you, though.” It was a risk, and one that she willingly took before their lips had met and the Maiden was eager to return the tender kiss, her lips soft and obedient as they followed along.

Her body was trembling in anticipation as the Lord begun to slowly pull Caitriona’s clothing upwards, exposing ivory flesh beneath her purposely-driven motions, excitement pouring through her veins in unforgiving waves at the aspect of being touched and especially by her mistress. Caitriona was always willing, always so very eager and her thighs parted as a long finger glided between them. Her eagerness showing in that simple, single move. “Touch me, please. . .”

[vampcina]

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑, starter for @servitoae

It is early morning, dawn has yet to break over the horizon. It was simply how she operates, she hardly sleep and when she does, it isn’t for long. Alcina is never really relaxed, never really at ease even in her own home. There is often all of these worries upon her shoulders which weight her down.

The vampire lets out a soft exhale, rising from her bed and slipping on her robe. Her maiden will be here soon to prepare her bath and help her wash. Oh sweet Caitriona, so lovely and gentle, so beautiful. The lady of the castle being her usual self had been unable not to indulge herself. She had made the maiden hers. It had been slow seduction, little touched and praises which builded up to a kiss. Lady Dimitrescu may be a monster for many reasons but she always gave her ladies a choice when it came to their intimacy with her.

Cautriona had given herself willingly.

At first it was purely physical, way for Alcina to satisfy her sexual hunger — not so much her actual hunger. She cared for Caitriona in a way she didn’t got other maidens even before the physical part was added. She was special, knew how to handle her girls so the vampire didn’t feed on her.

She is drawn out of her thoughts when she hears the door open and turns away from the window. “Good morning, comoara mea.”

[servitoae]

Caitriona had rose close to an hour previous to that of Lady Dimitrescu, requiring to bathe, as all servants in the employ of House of Dimitrescu were commanded, however short, and to fill her belly with breakfast before her day started officially with the preparation of Lady Dimitescu’s own bath. Once, Dimitrescu Castle had been frightening, the pit of hell that women were sold into and never seen and in time, heard from again. Now, it was simply considered as her home, dangerous or not.

Simply put, Caitriona’s arrival upon the steps of Dimitrescu Castle had been met with silent trepidation. It was no secret to the village that once women entered those elegant, towering doors, they would inevitably disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. She had cursed the man that had once been her father for selling her off in means of gaining fortune, to send her into the arms of certain death. 

Those in the village spoke often of the rumours and tales that had circulated the Castle and it’s the Lady that stalked within it since the days that saw the Cult of the Black God settled and Mother Miranda begun sinking her poisonous talons within their beloved mountainside community. Spoke of those that had either been sent or made the unfortunate, drunken mistake to approach the property and never been seen again. Spoke of the tales whispered by disloyal servants that were sent to the village to purchase needed assets and spoke of acts of violence and cannibalism that served to only support the rumours spoken by the elders.

Lady Dimitrescu was frightening, swift to anger and violent in her punishments, her unforgiving personality strengthened by an towering 9′6 stature and yet, Caitriona had found it impossible to resist, impossible to ignore her beauty even when in rage. Weeks, no, months of slow burn, of gentle but purposeful touches had worn her down and had given herself willingly when the topic of intimacy rose.

“Doamna mea.” She spoke softly, strands of obsidian locks wiggling free from her bun as the Maiden willingly bowed in official greetings to her Lady before soft feet carried her into the bathroom, beginning the monstrously sized bath. “I hope that your rest has left you feeling in good health.” Whilst her relationship with Alcina was, to a small degree, different to the other maidens, the expectation to treat Lady Dimitrescu as taught during her arrival never changed, remaining as a servant and nothing more, only acting on her desire to touch and approach when prompted by the Lady herself. 

[servitoae]

Give this a little like for a sentence starter from 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛 . . .

[denvitavargen]

*     𝐆𝐖𝐘𝐍𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐃𝐃   ,   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄   𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅    [ … ]    underneath  lies  an  overflowing  sea  of  goodwill,  good  humour  and  an  honest  readiness  to  help  his  friends,  be  it  with  a  bit  of  sound  advice  or  the  masterful  application  of  his  blade…

❝ 𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗆𝖾… ❞

𝐈𝐍𝐃. 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕. 𝐒𝐄𝐋. geralt of rivia of the witcher verse. fate has little mercy for him, piling obstacles in his way, yet he trudges on. written by pandy.  

[lilacdulcis]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐘𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐆

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 〝 𝐈’𝐌 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝑵𝑶𝑻

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓〞

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀——

𝐈𝐍𝐃. 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕. 𝐒𝐄𝐋. an independent portrayal of Yennefer Of Vengerberg from the witcher verse. written by loba.

[exsecratuss]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐀 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 〝 𝐈’𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〞

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀——

𝐈𝐍𝐃. 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕. 𝐒𝐄𝐋. an original character crafted for the witcher verse. written by loba.

[vampcina]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 〝 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫, ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆. 〞

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀——

𝐈𝐍𝐃. 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕. 𝐒𝐄𝐋. a descriptive and independent portrayal of Lady Dimitrescu from the resident evil verse. written by loba.