[][TLDR][]

Name: Valerie Nyxveil
Race: Human
Age: Mid 40s
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Sub/Dom Spectrum: 99% Dominant/ 1% Power Bottom
Role: Top
Sex: Masculine
Pronoun: She/Her
Orientation: Bisexual
Height: 190 cm
Hair: Raven Black
Eyes: Golden
Complexion: Alabaster
Freckled: Yes
Bust: 65GG
Waist: 58cm
Hips: 122cm
Build: Matronly

[][TLDR Description][]

She looked like sin slathered in dark lipstick and heavy eyeliner, which had somehow taken up scholarship in the profane dark arts.

[][Description with Lots of Words][]

Dame Nyxveil,  her fingers ink-stained as dark as the rings around her eyes. Fettered raven locks constrained within twin braids black, thick enough to hang liars from, settled upon her bosom rising and falling with every breath. Prismatic as midnight oil, her hair bound with golden trinkets that gleamed like the sun she shunned, slung low upon her bosom; unabashed and unrepentant, such bodacious majesty strained within that prison -- a golden gilded corset -- and with every breath, threatened their unlawful release out onto the wider world.

Her skin an unhealthy pearlescence, born not from huddling beneath an umbrella, but from moonlight rendezvous and midnight mischief. Seldom, if ever, did she rise with the sun. Faded freckles dusted her cheeks and shoulders, a bygone relic of a somewhat normal childhood chasing frogs and catching fireflies.

Her purple gown was mostly cleavage, corsetry, and curves.  Gold filigree clung to her bodice like alms to a priest. Always on her person, her necklace, fitted with a gem swirling with darkness incarnate.

And lower still, yes, there was her cock -- plentiful, a defiance against decency and restraint -- barely veiled beneath her robes jostling inside freely should one seek it. And yet, she behaved as though there was no vulgarity in it, merely abundance. She did not conceal it because she felt not the need to apologize for it.

Magic clung to her like perfume: dark, expensive, and very possibly illegal. One could not look at her without imagining both catastrophe and temptation. Possibly in the same evening. The scent of parchment, of melted wax, of lavender and something darker (musk? ash? time?) clung to her like a second garment.

Her mouth twirled curled with the craven elegance of someone who knew exactly what she was worth -- and charged extra. Her voice, when it came, dark and foreboding with low soothing tones. Seldom, if ever, did her voice drip in emotion.

The twin suns smoldering beneath her brow, her eyes, observed the world around her with predatory precision. She peered past masks, through lies, wrought throughout the centuries. And still she studies. And still she writes. Around her, books -- a forest worth of pages, inked with hymns, curses, equations, and the smatterings of the madness of witches and hags. She turns no page without consequence. And writes no word without purpose.


[][Voice][]

https://youtu.be/f6_34Sqk21w

[][Theme Song][]

https://youtu.be/wbIoa4zA9Vg?list=RDwbIoa4zA9Vg

[][Lights][]


OOC Enthusiasm. Corruption. Transformation. Dark Themes. Romance. Dark Romance. Friends and the Magic Therein. Females. Anything in between. Males. (In that Order). Feminization. Breeding. Dub-Con. Con-NonCon. Aftercare. Manipulation. Experimentation. Forbidden Rituals. Branding. Celestials. Fallen Celestials. Demons. Vampires. Try me.

Chat friendly but mapping out plot/every kink is exhausting.