/ it’s really tiring coming into this app and seeing the toxicity and disrespect towards the female characters of the Witcher. and from both male and FEMALE writers. not to mention the clear racism that has been showing up.
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⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝖠𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇?
⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Guessed again. Although 𝓘 prefer
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀to be called an 𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂. To
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀avoid getting it wrong can call me
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀by my name, 𝓣𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘀. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘛𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘴.
⠀
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ HE’S A PREDATOR WHO
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝚁𝙴𝙹𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴𝚂 WITHIN THE
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THRILL OF THE 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ Designed to 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔳𝔢,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ to 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙. . .
⠀⠀
⠀
of rosy lips. “It is sweet enough for you.” She breathes out in a lowly rasp, the sensitive skin beneath Adara’s ear nipped lazily. “In more ways than one.” Her thumb reaches out, dragging across the Spy’s heart. “Shall we return home, darling?”
Svelte limbs are perched across a set of shoulders, the edge of a delicate throat stroked with a tenderness that was never exposed to another. Digits do not cease there, embedding into midnight curls and teasing, another kiss pressed to the edge +
“i wanted to” the spy states simply, skin warming up when being traced. a deep and soft inhale is taken as a response to it and maeralya’s hand is squeezed when fingers are interlaced. “oh good, i’d have to have you cross with me.” the mage smiles, kissing the woman back »
“You didn’t have to do that, darling.” Her hand traces along the curve of her lover’s wrist, fingers slotting as one and interlacing. “I suppose I can forgive you for waiting me wait.” Husked timbre lingers with a teasing lilt, Adara’s lips pecked sweetly. “You look +
adara bites on her lower lip to stifle her laughter. so impatient. the spy steps you behind the elf, presenting a necklace and wrapping it around her neck. “saw this at the market and thought you’d like it.”
Is that her beloved she sees sneaking
about the streets of Gors Velen? And
she hasn’t yet blessed Maeralya with
her presence? Hmm. How completely
heartbreaking.
Such a sweet smile. It’s most definitely worth the loss in coins. Not that Maeralya cares. “Don’t spend it all on pastries, little one, get yourself something filling.” Just because her children are long since grown doesn’t mean that motherly instincts have +
suddenly there’s a coin purse upon her palm. quite a hefty coin purse she may add. she grasps it tight and grins at the elf. “thank you .ᐟ this will be well spent” on pastries. . .
Wise? Hmm. Perhaps not, little one.
She’s just lived her life long enough
to pick up the occasional lesson.
Amusement filters throughout her
visage, smile dancing at the edge of
weathered lips. “You certainly are
a mischief little thing.”