#striganaweek2021

[g-vlssz]

28th: Scars and Comfort - Striganaweek 2021

#castlevania #morana x striga #artwork #strigana #strigana week #striganaweek2021 #striga #morana

[demigoddessqueens]

Day 7, Prompt 7

For the last day (sadly) of @striganaweek , prompt 7 is family fluff all around. The oc mentioned is meant to be Sophie, based off the beautiful artwork from @g-vlssz . Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34835713

It was always referred to as the miracle of life, yet no one ever truly divulged into ALL of the in’s and out’s of raising a child. Still, neither Striga nor Morana would trade it for anything else in the world.

Neither imagined themselves as mothers, but here the present stood before them. A beautiful child, a young girl that stole their hearts and had their affections wrapped around her little fingers. Adopted into their little family, both women realized that she was a gift that be their legacy for all time.

Seeing her daughter’s smile and hearing the high-pitched laughter, Striga’s heart couldn’t help but leap in some fashion. She always thought herself too serious, stern or strict, but there was always an exception. Well, two exceptions in that case.

Morana noticed the dazed off smile that painted Striga’s face, slightly tightening her embrace around her wife. “Are you alright my love? You seem a bit…distracted this evening.” Striga looked down at her spouse, an endearing smile spread across her face as she placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“It’s nothing to worry about, my love….just that…just that I’m glad to have this. You. Our child. Swear this is not a dream sometimes?”

Morana let out a soft laugh before she kissed her wife’s cheek. “Does that count enough as real to you, my love?”

#netflix #castlevania #striga #morana #💙💜 #strigana week #striganaweek #strigana week 2021 #striganaweek2021 #strigana #oc Sophie

[fandomn00blr]

Old Wound

I hurried up and jotted down this little one-shot for Strigana Week (@striganaweek​), because these vampire wives are my favorite, and they deserve some more attention! Today’s prompt is ‘Scars & Comfort’ and, uh, well, I guess we’re talking pretty literally here. This also forced me to do a lot of superficial internet research about everything from an ancient synagogue in Sardis (ok, so that didn’t make it into this piece...), the 13th century Mongol Invasions in Hungary (that’s how I’ve decided Striga dies), to the development of synthetic ‘cobalt blue’ in Paris in the early 1800s (relevant to Morana’s interests, obvs), which, if you squint hard enough, you might be able to see in some of my head canons about their past and future adventures! Hopefully, I’ll do more with all those things later, cuz boy howdy, did I dive down some rabbitholes...

---

“Striga…” Morana calls from the bedroom.

“Curse that apothecary!” Striga hisses, slamming her fist down onto the bathroom vanity and rattling Morana’s perfume bottles. “I will return tomorrow night and drain him within an ounce of his pitiful life!”

“Now, now...before you get murderous, why don’t you give me a chance to soothe your old aches?”

Striga finally turns to look at her, and the pained expression on her face just barely softens when she sees that Morana has changed into the cobalt blue and black silk chemise she purchased on their most recent trip to Paris. Striga had found the ‘modern city’ dirty and confining, full of bustling humans whose short, insignificant lives seemed to dictate that they always be on the move, always building, growing, doing. But Morana...well, she always had been much better at adapting. She truly enjoyed the city. Delighted, in particular, by its streetlamps which defied the nighttime, and allowed its people to be lured into a false sense of safety, as if they could ever truly own the night. There was also the music, the art, or rather, the artists...and of course, the river.

Morana sits up, swinging her legs to the side of the bed and patting the mattress beside her. “Come to bed.”

“I am sorry, but I’m just not in the mood tonight, my love.”

“I know. You are in pain. And I want to help. Which is it? Your neck or your lower back?”

“The...original wound,” Striga mutters.

“Ah, yes. Of course. Is it really that time again?” Morana asks, feigning ignorance much more poorly than Striga knows she is capable of. “It had completely slipped my mind...”

Striga rolls her eyes. The special nightie suddenly makes a lot more sense, even though they had agreed long ago that formally commemorating the date of their first meeting had become unnecessary and tedious when they had all of eternity to spend together. Anniversaries, in celebrating another year around the sun, seem just a bit too human for Striga’s liking.

But her shoulder hardly seems to care that she is immortal, and insists on keeping the mundane ritual each year by reminding her of her last mortal wound.

Morana smiles and waves her over impatiently, and Striga complies, slumping down onto the mattress next to her with an annoyed huff. But as Morana moves around behind her and begins to massage the tense, bulky muscles in her neck and shoulder, she lets loose a small sigh of relief.

“Shall I kiss it to make it feel better?” Morana asks, working the heels of her hands into her.

“If you must…”

Morana pushes the collar of Striga’s tunic down off one shoulder to reveal a large scar, paler than Striga’s skin, running from her chest, over her shoulder, and down her back, almost like a shoulder strap. She presses her lips softly to it at first, kissing her way up along the gruesome mark, and reaching one of her hands around toward her breast.

“Morana…” Striga groans admonishingly, remembering the fear and panic she'd felt as she lay bleeding out from the giant axe wound that had nearly taken her entire arm off. She'd prayed to her gods, then -- not the prayers of gratitude and victory she had practiced, but the prayers of a coward -- to Erlik, that he send death quickly to end her suffering, whatever his judgment.

“Fine, fine…” Morana opens her mouth, exposing her long, delicate fangs, and sinks them into Striga’s shoulder with quick precision. Striga tenses at first, inhaling sharply, but then lets out a long, slow exhale. Morana withdraws, then moves further down her back and does it again and then again, leaving a trail of tiny puncture wounds all up and down the scar. With each inhale and exhale, Striga begins to melt back against Morana.

Death came to her, of course. But not in the way she'd expected -- not some ugly, bone-bleached shepherd, pointing her toward her desolate afterlife like she’d been taught. Instead, it came to her as a goddess, beautiful, brown-skinned, with pale blue eyes glowing like beacons in the night of what was supposed to have been her greatest victory as a human, a battle she just barely remembers winning, if being the last one left breathing amid a pile of fallen allies and enemies counts. Striga no longer even recalls who or what she had been fighting for. But she does remember the sweet things Death whispered in her ear as she dragged her dying body to the blood-stained Danube and emptied her of the rest of her life, draining away the pain of her own mortality. And even sweeter things as the goddess granted her something new. Something better. Something everlasting.

“You have always known how to soothe the worst of my pain…even from the beginning,” Striga says, closing her eyes as Morana wraps both arms around her and pulls her into her lap.

“I was simply hungry, darling.” Morana drags her long nails lightly over the scarred part of her chest. “The smell of fresh blood is what drew me to you. But you were exquisite, even with that garish wound...how could I let that go to waste?”

Striga laughs, loud and triumphant, and opens her eyes to look up at her. “Well then I’m glad I had enough blood left to sate your appetite.”

“Oh, no. I could never have enough of you.”

Striga reaches up for Morana’s chin. “Never?”

“Not ever.” Morana leans forward, capturing her lover’s lips between her teeth. She doesn't bite. Not too hard, anyway, and Striga lets out a sort of purr, low and deep in her throat.

She sits up, and pulls Morana around in front of her, deepening their kiss as Morana slides into her lap, her hands reaching back over Striga’s broad muscled shoulders and around her neck.

“Mmmm…” Morana hums. “Feeling better so quickly?”

“Why do we even bother with worthless human medicine?”

“The humans have proven useful,” Morana reminds her. “If not for their petty wars, we would not have met. Or done nearly so well for ourselves over these past six hundred years.”

She reaches down for the hem of her nightshirt and starts to lift it over her head, but Striga stops her with both hands, grasping her wrists and tugging it back down to her hips.

“Leave it on,” Striga growls.

“And they made this!” Morana laughs, shrill and delighted. “Which seems to be doing something for your old war wound.”

“Yes...well, it is your color.”

“And much easier to find these days, thanks to human ingenuity!”

“Hmmm...if only their chemists were as good at synthesizing blood or immortality as they were at dying frivolous nightclothes…”

“Frivolous?! How dare you!”

“Not as frivolous as starting a war over precious stones to crush into dust to dye your favorite dress, I suppose…”

“Ah, but I do sometimes miss those days!”

Striga rolls her eyes again, and then buries her face against Morana’s neck, pulling the blue silk strap away from her collarbone with her teeth and letting it fall delicately off her shoulder.

“Oh...now who’s enjoying being frivolous?”

#striganaweek2021 #castlevania #striga #morana #strigana #scars #comfort #vampire wives #oh and did you know vampire fangs are marvelous for acupuncture? #no? #neither did i until i started writing that part #feel free to ask me about my head canons so that i'm forced to write them down instead of forgetting them #i mean if you want #i love them so much #my writing #this will probably get cleaned up/added to and posted to AO3 when I get a chance

[tofudomination]

Happy #StriganaWeek2021!!

I love these queens. They deserved a kiss, backstories, to be plot relevant, and a hell of a lot more screen time.

I originally intended for this to be in color, but I struggle a lot with shading in color and could not make it look good in color for the life of me, so now they're celestial beings or have ascended to a higher plane of lesbianism or something.

Btw if you want this design on random stuff check my redbubble here

#StriganaWeek2021 #Striga x Morana #Morana x Striga #Castlevania #wlw #fanart #my art #fuck warren ellis #fuck kevin kolde #all of my homies hate warren ellis and kevin kolde

[g-vlssz]

Strigana week: Weddings and Celebrations

#Castlevania #digital art #fanart #Striga #Morana #striga x morana #strigana #striganaweek2021 #striganaweek #castlevania fanart

[g-vlssz]

Strigana week: Weddings and Celebrations, I didn't post anything yesterday, that's all i have to offer.

I like this one because it's different from my original style

#castlevania #strigana #morana x striga #morana castlevania #striganaweek2021 #striganaweek

[demigoddessqueens]

Day 3

(Will update on AO3. For day 3, prompt 3 of @striganaweek for the battle wives and their marriage vows 💍)

The chilled night air only made them huddle closer together. Striga glanced down at her wife’s hand held gently in hers, heartbeat still racing as it used to when she was a younger (human) woman with her lovers of old.

The stars out that night, along with the cool breeze, it really did feel like something out a story book. Just enjoying the pure bliss with her wife reminded Striga of how she felt when they exchanged their rings and vows, so many centuries ago that it still felt like yesterday.

The golden rings were the lifelines to each other, and no earthly force could sever that from them. Though they were planning to take what was left behind from Dracula by force, both women knew that at least there was a dream that they made a reality.

A fairy-tale ending, they said. Even after others felt threatened of Styria and tried to take that from them, they stood fortified against all odds.

Maybe when they were human, weddings and celebrations were something of joy to others, but it felt otherwise to both women. Before their change, it was a prison. Just a gilded change with empty promises that kept them down to the whims and tactics of others. Now, everything was in their power.

At least now marriage was held in the highest regard for both women because it was their own. Something that was in their power, and where they were in control of their own destiny. For once, they had a say in their future and had the fairy-tale ending they wanted. The one they always deserved.

#netflix #castlevania #striganaweek2021 #strigana week 2021 #strigana #strigana week #striganaweek #striga #morana #striga/morana #striga x morana #morana x striga #💙💜 #day 3

[demigoddessqueens]

Day 2 Schemes & Dreams

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34734775

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34734775

For Day 2, prompt 2 of @striganaweek

Nightfall had come to the Styrian camp after the peasant’s attacks, and all was quiet. For now, at least, until the next horde of humans came with their meek weapons. Even though Styria was victorious, the words from their conversation still rung in Morana’s ears.

She felt herself pull in closer to her spouse whose gentle snores and breath brushed against her ear. Today they were successful, but Striga was breathing heavier than normal after the battle. Were they that formidable or was this just a stroke of luck for them?

She remembers seeing Striga lumbering into the tent afterwards, breath heavy and shoulders slumping. Though she was calm and collected externally, Morana felt panic for the first time in centuries. What if they were caught off-guard again? What if the humans had another trick up their sleeve? What if there were traitors? What if Striga wasn’t looking and—?

She couldn’t let herself finish that thought. She didn’t want to think about the “what if?” and the harsh realization about their vulnerabilities as a vampire. If anything, today only solidified what she was thinking for a long time now. To just leave it all behind and start anew elsewhere.

It would be a struggle in of itself to pry Striga away from elements of their old life, but there was that small voice in her mind that offered some small assurance. For now, she just wanted to surrender to the brief respite that sleep had to offer. At least in this brief moment, it could be just them.

#netflix #castlevania #strigana week #striganaweek #strigana week 2021 #striganaweek2021 #strigana #striga #morana #striga/morana #morana x striga #striga x morana #💙💜 #Day 2

[fandomn00blr]

The Halloween ‘Sisters’ at the End of the Cul de Sac

I had a bunch of unfortunate Life™ happen this weekend (some of it is still happening), when I intended to finish this up for the last day of Strigana Week (@striganaweek​​) in the bits of free time I thought I might be able to find (I didn’t). The prompt was “Halloween & Dreams of the Future,” and I had a lot of fun with this one...a bit of 80s Kid nostalgia creeped in here, but I noticed Sunday night, as I was passing out candy, that a lot of the same costumes that I remember being popular in the 80s are still popular now (again?). 

Anyway, this is the first half of the one-shot I had in mind for this prompt..the second half is still being revised/finished up (I’ve shared snippets of it here, already, but I won’t spoiler it for those who haven’t seen it!). When I think it’s done, I’ll reblog it and post to AO3!

---

“It’s fun, Sissy, I swear. They’re just a couple of spinsters who get a kick out of messing with us,” a boy, around eleven years old, wearing a hockey mask pushed back on top of his head and wielding a machete made of cardboard and duct tape tries to explain to a much smaller girl in a long dark dress and cape, who stands hesitating outside the old, creaking iron gates that are wedged open just enough for a single person to pass through. “Now come on! We have to catch up with the rest of them!”

“I think they’re married…” another kid corrects him as she squeezes through the gate ahead of them. She’s painted her face like a skull, and the white makeup glows a little more wickedly in the yellow-orange of the last light on the street when she beams back at them through the dark iron bars.

“Why do people call them sisters, then?” the boy asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest defiantly.

“I dunno…” She shrugs, then sticks her tongue out at him, a startling pink against the black of her lips. “Do you think you’ll at least make it to the door this year?”

“Yeah…” he mutters. “The only reason I didn’t last time was because of all those stupid crows!”

The little girl’s eyes go wide, and she takes a tentative step toward the gate. “Crows…?”

“Yeah!” Skull-girl exclaims. “Well...ravens, actually. Last year, they had real ones up in the trees and they’d swoop down at you and try to steal your eyeballs…”

She makes claws with her hands and tilts her head, looking at the little girl and creeping very jerkily and bird-like back toward them.

The little girl takes a deep breath, her eyes shining with strange delight in the gentle green of the glowstick hanging down around her neck.

But then the older girl abruptly turns her attention to the boy and leaps at him.

“Hey!” he shrieks. “That’s not funny! I’m like, really scared of birds! Ever since I saw that stupid movie…”

“Nah…” Skull-girl winks at the younger girl and she has to stifle a small giggle. “They were fine. The worst they did was grab a couple pieces of candy. I think they like the shiny wrappers…” She turns and grins menacingly back at the boy through the bars.

The little girl watches as he shuffles his candy around in his bucket, trying to hide the pieces wrapped in foil. She looks down at her own bucket, and is pleased to see that she has quite a few shiny pieces sitting right on top. Skull-girl nods approvingly and offers her a hand as she steps the rest of the way into the overgrown yard of the estate.

“Hey, wait up!” the boy calls out to them, pulling his mask down over his face as they begin to make their way up the path through the thick hedge.

...

“Morana, quick!” Striga calls out over her shoulder. “Come see all these wretched little creatures who’ve made it through our maze!”

The children giggle nervously, shuffling around in front of the door as they try and get a better look inside the mysterious old mansion.

Morana appears with a tray of delicious-looking candied apples, all different kinds with various edible decorations, wrapped up in cellophane. “Oh, your costumes are magnificent!” she exclaims.

“I’m a gremlin!” one of the children declares gratingly from behind a plastic store-bought mask.

“Why, yes! You are!” Morana places a caramel-dipped Granny Smith apple in the child’s bucket, and then the other children line up, holding their own baskets out for a treat.

“And I’m an undead skeleton!” the girl with the skull makeup exclaims proudly when it’s her turn.

“Very spooky…did you make your costume yourself?” Morana asks. “Or perhaps someone else raised you from the dead?”

“Well, my dad helped me with the makeup…” the girl confesses, as Morana selects a red apple drizzled with white chocolate from the tray for her.

“And what are you, little one?” Striga asks, eyeing the little girl who hangs back from the cluster of children crowded around the door.

She peers wide-eyed at Striga, then glances over at Morana, who is staring expectantly at her, as well. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, except a set of false glow-in-the-dark teeth with fangs that are far too big for her.

“She’s a baby,” the boy in the hockey mask groans. “This is her first time trick-or-treating with us. Mom said I had to bring her along.”

Striga nods and places an apple in the boy’s basket.

“Oh, but she has been very brave to have made it through our maze!” Morana insists. “She deserves a treat, too!”

The other children puff up their chests a little, elbowing and accusing each other of wanting to turn back at the spider nest or the spooky tree or the empty coffins in freshly-dug graves.

“Vamp...vampire…” the tiny girl finally murmurs, after re-inserting and adjusting her teeth. She pulls her cape tightly around her shoulders and tries to narrow her eyes menacingly at them, and quickly becomes embarrassed and tries to duck back behind her brother. But he’s already following the other children down the porch steps, leaving her to face ‘The Sisters’ alone.

Striga raises an eyebrow at her, and smiles, revealing just the tips of her fangs. “The best costume we’ve seen all night, wouldn’t you say, my love?”

“Yes,” Morana nods, grinning at the girl to reveal her own sweetly-fanged smile. She looks down at her tray of apples. “Oh yes...I think this one, most definitely…” She picks up a beautiful blush-colored Pink Lady with flecks of gold leaf and stripes of caramel over the clear glossy candy coating and places it in the little girl’s basket.

“Fank you…” the little girl lisps through her oversized fangs, and then spins around, hurrying to catch up with the other children, who are already discussing their next stop -- the Becker house, where the old widow is known for handing out full-size Baby Ruths and, being that she is practically blind, you can usually grab more than one.

“Don’t forget to brush those fangs, darling!” Morana cries out to her. “With all these sweets, you wouldn’t want them to fall out before you've had a chance to grow into them!”

The little girl turns around to wave, but the two women have disappeared. Instead, a large black bird stands on the porch, its eyes fixed on her as it tilts its head curiously, accompanied by an oddly elegant-looking brown bat swooping above it, chittering excitedly. She swears she sees the raven wink one dark glowing eye at her before they take off together into the night.

...

“Did you see the apple they gave Josh’s little sister?” the gremlin asks one of its ghostly companions.

“Yeah. It’s not fair she got the prettiest one!” the ghost huffs beneath her sheet.

“They probably just felt sorry for her,” a kid wearing a single sequined glove and a red leather jacket waves dismissively.

“My mom says not to eat any candy that isn’t factory-sealed,” one of the other children, dressed in a wide-brimmed hat and carrying a broom says. “You never know what someone might have done to it. There are a lot of sickos out there...”

“Oh, come off it, Lindsey! Last year they gave out those fancy little cakes and nobody dropped dead or choked on any razor blades...” Skull-girl, who has already unwrapped hers and is about to take a bite, says.

---

Dun dun DUN! (No, they didn’t poison the children...)

#castlevania #striganaweek2021 #sorry i'm late #and still not finished #striga #morana #strigana #in the 80s #trick-or-treating #halloween #my writing #WIP

[demigoddessqueens]

Day 1 - Empresses of Old & Before the Council

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34712899 . For day 1, prompt 1 of @striganaweek

Getting up, day in and day out, was going through the motions for Morana. Everyday was just as the last, schemes and meetings. Throwing whatever hair-brained idea Carmilla concocted into something tangible and executing it. If she was wanted to be honest, Morana was growing tired of it all.

She just wanted to allow herself whatever time she could afford with her wife. Maybe back in her old days, when she was human, Morana could have handled the politics of the ancient kingdoms but it was different now.

She grew tired of it, and putting on her signature earrings every day only reminded her of the legacy destiny forged for her. She received them back in the old days, when she was placed inherited one of Sumeria’s cities back in their Golden Age.

They were all old in their own way, but as the eldest of the four of them, Morana was tired. Exhausted even under the façade of silken garments and the blue dye that painted her eyes. In the centuries that followed after Striga had joined them, it all seemed worth it to Morana then.

If there was ever one thing Carmilla was good for, it was for the union of her and her hallowed knight. Perhaps it was time for a change, one where she and Striga would make their own schemes or create whatever it was that pleased them. Become their own queens and empresses.

#netflix #castlevania #striganaweek2021 #strigana week 2021 #strigana #striganaweek #strigana week #just striga and morana being cute #striga #morana #striga x morana #morana x striga #💙💜

[demigoddessqueens]

Day 5

Will be updated to AO3. For Day 5, prompt 5 of @striganaweek , lil bit of angst away from the wifey

Blood and sweat were what reminded Striga what it felt like to be alive. Her warrior’s spirit did not yield in the face of danger, but it was never in front of her enemy. No, they would never get the luxury of seeing her vulnerability.

Though she lived for the fight and the glory of war, there was always a pain attached to it. Not for the losses or for those from Styria who risked being staked or burned, but the fact that she was separated from the one who she wanted in these grueling campaigns.

It was torture to be separated from her spouse, the only one that she trusted the most in this hellish world. The agonizing pain from the sword that pierced her heart.

But that was the price they paid for taking the world, the agony and bliss of it all. The agony of being separated from the one you loved most, but for a lifetime of bliss that you could give to each other a thousand times over.

Striga knew that Morana had her hesitations, but as she patched herself up, Morana’s words from over the years rang differently for her. Fingers tracing her scars from centuries past, Striga yearned for her lover who used to fret over her. Not a price she wanted to continuously pay, but one that she felt was draining on her.

#netflix #castlevania #just striga and morana being cute #striganaweek2021 #striga/morana #striga #morana #strigana #💙💜 #strigana week 2021 #strigana week #striganaweek

[demigoddessqueens]

Day 6

For Day 6, prompt 6 of @striganaweek , opposites attract

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34835569

Striga and Morana. Morana and Striga. Two of the four queens who over saw the kingdom of Styria, and who were as similar as they were different. The bloody warrior, proud of her feats, whose hands only curled around a sword and that of her wife’s after a battle campaign.

To those who did not share within their love, both vampire and human, they seemed to be a strange couple but it was their loss. Call it jealousy or some type of unaddressed yearning, but to Striga and Morana, they did not care for the opinions of others.

In their past lives as humans, living life was always to the demands and entitlements of others. Often times, it felt more to live by their mercies. Oh how those who looked down on them from before would be marveled at the strength and power they radiated.

Who cares if Striga was seen as brutish or warlike? It only mattered to Morana and that was more than enough validation. And who did it matter to that Morana was not a fighter nor warlike? Striga always held her wife’s opinions on the matters of the empire in the highest regard.

To the shallow eye, they would be seen as the most incompatible, but then again when did another’s opinions matter? There was a beauty that both saw within each other, for their eyes only. To Striga, Morana was the only one who’s words held the heaviest weight, even if they lived with others in their lavish home.

To Morana, Striga was more than just the protector and brute warrior of the four. She was her love, her light, the one she would follow into any battle no matter how far to the ends of the earth it took them.

#netflix #castlevania #striga #morana #striganaweek2021 #strigana week 2021 #strigana week #striganaweek #strigana #💙💜

[demigoddessqueens]

Day 4, Prompt 4

For day 4 of @striganaweek , best way to care for loved ones? Chastise them over safety. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34774123

Every battle scar told a story of victory for Striga. Though there were few that decorated her body, Striga wore them proudly. It served as a reminder that even after so many centuries of living as the undead, she could still feel alive.

Though the scars did not mean much to Striga, it always roused the emotions and wandering eyes of her wife. Bless her heart, Striga adored Morana’s attention and didn’t try to resist her first aid efforts lest she wanted to see more of her fretting.

“Always fretting, aren’t you?”, Striga teased after one training session. Morana scoffed before responding. “Maybe I wouldn’t fret as much if you were more careful during training”, her voice trailing off in an “I-told-you so” manner.

“Well, I can assure you, I hope it won’t be the last time your hands are on me.” Morana only gave her famous exasperated expression that Striga adored after all these centuries. “Must you be this crude?? Mind you, I still have the bandages for your wounds.”

Striga just cocked her eyebrow as she held on to her wife’s perfectly fitting hand. “Good, because I only wanted someone with your expertise to put your hands on me.”

#netflix #castlevania #💙💜 #striganaweek2021 #strigana #strigana week 2021 #strigana week #striganaweek #striga #just striga and morana being cute #morana