#yenntriss

[echo-bleu]

your smile in mine

I realized that I forgot to post this here as well when the flash fic collection was revealed, so here goes. More they/them Jaskier, Jaskier&Yen friendship with background Geraskier and Yenntriss. It’s in the same modern AU as a flower by any other name but you don’t need to read it first. Also on AO3.

(I wrote this while sick and feverish and on a plane. This is what the flash fic server is making me do.)

 By any rights, Yennefer's house should look much more witchery than this, Jaskier thinks as they push the small garden gate. The white-washed walls and the tame front garden don't let on any clue to the sheer power of the two women who live there. They're both actual witches, a fact that did shock Jaskier quite a bit when they first heard of it, if only because they would never have pegged Geralt as the type to marry a pagan witch. It was at the very start of their friendship, long before they got together, and Jaskier understood much better when they actually met Yennefer.

 Because that woman is far from the stereotypical ethereal and borderline cultist witches Jaskier had in mind. That definition fits Triss, Yennefer's partner, somewhat better, but even with her, Jaskier's hasty assumptions were quickly corrected. Triss is one of the kindest people Jaskier knows, but also one of the most quietly efficient. She's a licenced physical therapist, and her online full-body care program is wildly popular and incredibly good, as Jaskier themself can attest.

 Yennefer's witch practice is more of a hobby, as she otherwise works full-time in the mayor's office as a political advisor, though Geralt did tell Jaskier that she's tiring of the constant drama and thinking about shaking things up. Jaskier refuses to even imagine what "shaking things up" might mean for someone as scary as her.

 "What can I do for you, Jaskier?" Yennefer welcomes them in, dressed as always in a perfectly pressed and just a tad daring knee-length dress.

 That's a very good question, one that Jaskier is currently asking themself as they walk in behind her. The inside of the house resembles her, neat and tastefully furnished, Scandinavian style. Jaskier can spot a few of Triss's more homely touches in the fluffy rug under the coffee table and the mismatched mugs behind a glass cabinet door, but they look almost comically out of place.

 Yennefer leads them to the couch, black leather on a chrome frame. The absolute opposite of Jaskier's own taste. They wonder briefly how Triss and Ciri can stand it, especially Ciri who is right at that age where picking up her clothes off the floor seems like an agonizing waste of time. Does Yennefer make her keep her room in this same state of perfection?

 "Tea? Coffee? I probably have some of Ciri's sodas, if that's your thing," Yennefer drawls. In her mouth, it sounds like an insult, but it has the merit of wrenching Jaskier from their distracted thoughts.

 "Tea would be great," they force a smile. Then, more cheekily, "Cream, four sugars."

 Yennefer makes a face, but she doesn't comment. She heads to the kitchen area and Jaskier uses that time to try to ground themself. It's not that Yennefer scares them, but -- okay, she does. And while they rehearsed what they wanted to say multiple times on the way here, now their brain is completely empty.

 Yennefer comes back and puts a mug in front of them. "Here you go, Jaskier."

 She's purposefully using their name more than she really needs to, and it's new enough that Jaskier finds that they really appreciate it. Like all of Geralt's family, she's been nothing but supportive of their transition, and yet every gesture still moves them deeply, especially from someone they can hardly consider a friend -- their partner's ex-wife.

 It serves to soothe Jaskier's nerves a little, and they let out a real laugh when they see that the mug she gave them has a rainbow flag and the words "this beverage will make you gay" printed on it. "I don't think it can make me gayer than I already am," they snort.

 "It was Ciri's Christmas present to Triss last year," Yennefer smiles.

 Jaskier wraps their hands around the mug, taking in the heat. "It's about Geralt," they say.

 "I figured."

 "I don't want to, like, make this awkward between us, but you know him in ways his brothers just don't. Lately he's been shutting us all out and I don't know how to help."

 Yennefer takes her time before answering. "Ciri said something like that. I haven't had a proper chat with him in months, but I know how he gets."

 "Do you know how to get him out of it?" Jaskier asks hopefully.

 "If I did, do you think we would have gotten a divorce?" is Yennefer's answer.

 Jaskier's heart clenches. Is that it, then? Is that what she means? Is Geralt shutting them out because he's about to break up with them? Jaskier knows that their personality and their issues are a lot of handle, and the fear that Geralt will one day wake up and realize that Jaskier is just too much (or maybe not enough) is always present at the back of their mind, but this time they can't even pinpoint what they did wrong.

 "Hey, Jaskier, breathe," Yennefer calls out, and Jaskier realizes that they're hyperventilating. Yennefer has moved from the armchair across from them to the couch, and her hand is hovering over their arm, as if asking for permission to touch them.

 Jaskier slips their arm away -- the thought of being touched makes their skin crawl right now -- but they take a few deep breaths to calm down. "Sorry."

 "Don't worry about it. Here, come with me," Yennefer offers, standing up. "I want to show you something."

 Jaskier hugs themself with their arms as they follow her upstairs. The house isn't cold, but they feel a chill running through their body anyway.

 "Ignore the mess," Yennefer says, opening a door on the left of the corridor.

 That just makes Jaskier curious, because what room in Yennefer's house could be messy? It's a bedroom, with a kingsize bed in the middle. Purple sheer curtains surround it, open on one side, and part of bed is covered in what looks like various Halloween props. There's a velvet pumpkin, assorted orange leaves and a knitted blanket, and even -- that makes Jaskier laugh -- a toy skeleton arranged in a yoga pause.

 "Triss decided that our bed was the only place she could do her Samhain video," Yennefer explains.

 "Oh, I can't wait to see it," Jaskier smirks. "What did you want to show me?"

 Yennefer walks further into the room. In a nook by the dresser are two cozy armchairs, and between them, a mountain of stuffed toys. She grabs one of the largest one, a fluffy white unicorn, and plops down on one of the armchairs, kicking of her stilettos to sit cross-legged. "Sit," she orders.

 Several jokes run through Jaskier's head, but they stay silent and obey. She's showing them a vulnerable part of herself, a place she doesn't let many people see. Jaskier brings their legs up and lets themself fiddle with the ear of a stuffed rabbit.

 "I don't know how much Geralt has told you of his childhood, or of our marriage for that matter," Yennefer starts quietly, her gaze intense and almost uncomfortable. "He and I, we have a lot of the same kind of trauma. Being abandoned, and then raised in a high-pressure environment, never having a place to just be yourself, it messes you up. I think we were both always waiting for the other shoe to drop, we constantly pushed each other away because it's easier to leave than to be left. That's why we didn't work out. I thoughy getting married would help, and then getting Ciri, but this isn't something that should be put on a child's shoulders. Eventually we realized that it was hurting her. Geralt and I... We love each other very much, but we just had too much baggage. We're better now."

 Jaskier nods, unsure what kind of response they can give to that. It isn't new to them exactly, but Geralt never said it in so many words. Geralt never says anything in so many words.

 "Do you think we're going the same way?" they ask. "I have plenty of baggage of my own."

 "You do, but yours is different. And Geralt isn't who he was back then. He's still struggling, but he's improved a lot. After our divorce was finalized, Triss dragged us both to therapy. I think we just went for Ciri's sake at first, but it helped."

 "I've been trying to convince him to call his therapist," Jaskier says.

 "Keep at it. It always takes him a while, but it will help in the end. After six months of therapy, when his therapist first brought up getting assessed for autism, he came over and gifted me this," she holds up the stuffed unicorn. "I loved unicorns as a kid. He said I should get to have all the things I've been denied."

 "That's actually cute," Jaskier smiles.

 "He does things like that for you all the time. He loves you, Jaskier. In a more healthy way than he's ever loved me. And you understand him in ways I never could. If anyone can make it work with him, it's you."

 Jaskier swallows tears threatening to spring to their eyes. "Thank you," they murmur. And then, because they're too good at deflecting when things get too heavy, "I didn't think I would ever pass muster for the great Yennefer of Vengerberg!"

 "If I thought you weren't good for him, they would never find you body," Yennefer glares, but it feels playful.

 Jaskier laughs a bit, then sobers up. "I'm sorry things were so hard for the two of you. I swear I'll do my best to take care of him."

 "You do that. But, Jaskier--" she trails off, biting her lip.

 "Yes?"

 "Don't forget to take care of yourself too."

 Jaskier reaches out to pet the unicorn in her arms, stopping just short of touching her hand. "I won't," they smile. "Thank you. Really."

#the witcher #the witcher fic #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #geraskier #yenntriss #geraskier fic #sing me awake #echo's fanfiction

[roleplayfinder]

Hi! 21+ enby looking for NSFW the Witcher roleplay based around the Netflix show. I'd love to play a Yennskier, Yenralt, Yenbrina, YennTriss plot, possibly with a little kink sprinkled in. Literate to novella for Discord. Thank you. 💫

(Alternatively open to other rare pairs!)

.

#twenty-one and over #the witcher #the witcher roleplay #the witcher rp

[bambirex]

Ooh could you tell me a little about yennskier therapy and/or yenntriss 5+1?

The Yennskier therapy one is basically a modern AU where a deeply traumatized, mentally ill Jaskier and Yennefer attend the sessions of the same psychiatrist and they fall in love and try to do some healing together as well!

I've scribbled like a morsel of a scene the other day, here it goes:

"I was a fussy kid. I cried a lot, and I always asked too many questions."

"That's what children usually do."

"Yes, but..." Jaskier chuckled, the sound bitter, self-deprecating. "I was a bit too much. And I kept bugging my parents, I really drove them crazy. They didn't have time for my nonsense."

"And what did they do when you came up to them, asking for attention?" dr. Alvarez asked, leaning a bit more forward in her chair. Jaskier felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"They'd give me a cookie so I would shut up and leave them alone."

As for the Yentriss one, I want something soft about the girls confessing their love to each other in different ways! I haven't really given it too much thought yet, but this is like the skeleton of the idea!

Thanks so much for the ask! 💕

#wip folder #dancingwiththefae

[obsidian-thunder]

- Triss, this is so nice. - Anything for you Yenna.

#trissefer #trissfer #yennetriss #yenntriss #yentriss #yennefer of vengerberg #triss merigold #the witcher 3 #tw3 #tw3 mods #doppler trissefer #the witcher 3 mods

[bamf-jaskier]

As February is about to start I thought I would offer up a list of Witcher-themed femslash prompts (both weekly and daily options) for the month.

As well, if you are interested there’s an AO3 collection here where you can post your work or feel free to @ me or @witcherladiesamirite if you post it on tumblr!

If you want to talk through some wlw ideas and come to where the heart of this mini-event is come to the Witcher Ladies Discord Server!

#got it out! #the Witcher #femslash february #Yennefer #Triss #Fringilla #prompt list #writing challenge #femslash #yenntriss #yengilla #Frinfran #Francesca #myposts

[bittersweet-mojo]

everyones fav drunk wine aunts~

#triss marigold #yennefer of vengerberg #the witcher #yenntriss #trissefer #fanart #digital art #procreate #the witcher netflix #Bitter Content #im on a fucking roll apparently i havent made this much fanart in years #anyway im especially proud of yenn expression here i think the silouette is good #i could have put wine in the cup but im lazy so #lets see if people go wild for any ship art or if its only the boys lol

[witchersgoldenbard]

If you haven’t already answered a question about the breakfast club wip i would love to know more!!!!

oooh, that one was one of the first witcher fics i had started way back when, while watching the breakfast club. i only have the beginning (as per usual..) of it, but still strongly love the vibes and hope to continue at some point bc this fandom needs a berakfast club au. it's a classic, but there's still none?? a crime.

Geralt: the quiet, brooding guy who gives zero fucks about school or what people think of him Jaskier: the loud, cheery theatre kid who runs his mouth before he thinks, a bit feral sometimes Yennefer: the insanely pretty mean girl who hates popular kids Triss: the Princess, a popular kid who’s actually very kind and likes to help but peer pressure prevents it Renfri: nerd who likes to get into people’s business, ace

they're all there for detention, stregobor sucks. it's definitely geraskier and probably yenntriss because renfri is just judging them all and simply hoping for this day to be over before they can decide to kill stregobor the next time he enters the library.

you can... have the entirety of the beginning, which is everyone's introduction in true breakfast club style. but it's 1.5k words and splitting it up would make no sense.

Saturday, 13 March 1999. Temeria High. 6:56 am.

A silver BMW is parked in front of the school, the engine still running. Triss Merigold is staring at the abandoned building in front of her. Never before has she seen it so deserted, and never again does she wish to see it this early on a Saturday morning. She sighs in trepidation and turns back to her dad who is smiling at her in an almost patronising way. As always.

“I can’t believe you can’t get me out of this,” she sighs, looking back at the building. She finds that she doesn’t mind it as much as her father’s condescending patience. “It’s so absurd I have to be here on a Saturday.”

Her father turns in his seat to face her and she looks back at him. “I’ll make it up to you,” he grins, and she refrains from rolling her eyes. Of course he will. Of course he didn’t listen to a word she said. Of course he never even asked why she has to be here in the first place. Merely jumped at the opportunity to take her here and pick her up this afternoon before her mother could get a single word in.

Triss isn’t stupid. She knows her father doesn’t care about her so much as he cares about getting back at her mother. Another proof for how he will take every chance to get into Triss’s good graces is the bag of expensive sushi he presses into her hands now. They never actually make food at her house, and Triss is beginning to despise it.

She takes it and doesn’t even bother to fake a smile.

“Have a good day,” her father says like he doesn’t know, doesn’t even care about where they currently are. Detention. De-fucking-tention! Nobody here will have a good day. She wants to scream at him, wants him to listen to his own words – but it would be no use. Her mother has tried. She has tried. All he did was smile.

So she doesn’t scream. Doesn’t say a word. Only rolls her eyes and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her and not turning back to wave. Her dad wouldn’t check if she did anyway.

She exhales and summons all her strength. Right. Detention. Let’s do this.

****

Another car, red this time, pulls up on the empty parking lot before the school. The atmosphere here is just as tense as in the one before.

“I this the first time or the last time that we do this?” Renfri’s mother asks venomously before the car even comes to a stop.

Renfri clenches their jaw and breathes deeply, looking at the building instead of their mother. They don’t want to face her piercing eyes, her commanding tone, anything. They just want to survive the day and get this over with.

“The last,” Renfri murmurs, still not meeting mother’s eyes.

“Well, get in there and use the time to your advantage,” she demands. That woman has no idea how the real world works anymore.

Renfri rolls their eyes and looks up. “Mom, we’re not supposed to study in there. We just have to sit there and do nothing, you know?”

Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Well, missy, you figure out a way to study!” Her tone books no room for discussion, and Renfri doesn’t bother. Doesn’t try to correct her either. Just sits there and tries not to reach out and punch their mother in the face. It’s a close call, this early on a Saturday morning.

“Well, go!” she calls, and Renfri does. Feeling miserable and misunderstood and godsfucking tired. They should have brought coffee. Or a whole machine, rather. Fuck. This day already sucks.

****

Behind the red car, a brown SUV comes to a stop. Within it, a tense silence. Vesemir isn’t looking at him, but Geralt knows that even if he were, there would be no judgment in them. Disappointment, maybe. Annoyance at having to be here once more on a Saturday morning. But no anger, no judgment.

“Let’s not do this again next week,” his old man grunts with a hint of resignation that tells Geralt he’s very well prepared to be in this exact same spot this time next week. It almost makes him smile.

Almost. Instead, he grunts. “Hm.”

Geralt doesn’t give a single flying fuck about school and grades and detention. He just wants to finally be done with it all so that he can work full-time in Vesemir’s garage like his brothers already do. His family knows that, and they are patient with him.

He brings home passing grades, sometimes even more than passing, and he aces shop. Stays out of trouble as far as he can, but he knows that some teachers just have it out for him. One, because he’s a Rivia, and everyone’s still traumatised by Lambert. Two, because he’s apparently intimidating and the assholes they employed here want to take him down before he can become dangerous, or something.

“Geralt,” Vesemir says, and he meets his eyes. A beat. “Try not to get in trouble.”

“Hm.”

Again, it’s not like he tries to get in trouble. It’s just that trouble usually finds him.

“Want me to pick you up after?”

Geralt shakes his head. “I’ll walk.”

It’s not a long way to the garage, and this way he also gets a chance to cool off, as he so often needs after pointless detention. Maybe, if he’s in good spirits, he’ll pick up some late lunch or early dinner on his way, bring some for the rest of his family.

It’s a comforting thought.

Vesemir reaches over to clap his shoulder, neither of them men for a lot of words. “Have a good day, kid.”

Geralt huffs at the sarcasm in his old man’s voice and rolls his eyes. “Hm. You, too. Saturday morning customers are known for their patience.”

Vesemir groans. “Maybe I’ll put Lambert on front desk duty, then. Will teach them a lesson.”

“And him,” Geralt agrees.

“And him.”

Grabbing his lunch bag, Geralt opens the door and exits the car, though he is careful not to slam it shut. He scowls at the familiar picture of the deserted school building glowing in the light of the rising sun.

Let’s get the over with.

****

The lone boy approaching the school has nobody to bring him, but he favours the crisp air of early spring to the confinement of a car full of people who will judge him. He doesn’t care about walking or the early morning hours – they are the least of his worries. All he cares about is the music coming through his earphones. It’s the third time this morning that he listens to Come On Eileen, and he needs the energy of this song to survive this day. It’s working, so far.

Lost in his music and the general apprehension of this whole day and every one that would follow, Jaskier doesn’t even care about the approaching blue car that almost hits him if it wasn’t for that slight side-step he does in tune with the song. Shame, really. Maybe being hit by a car would have got him out of a whole day of detention.

Come on Eileen, tah-loo-rye-aye

Come on Eileen, tah-loo-rye-aye

I say, too-ra-loo-ra, too-ra-loo-rye-ay

What a great song to be hit by a car to. Maybe next time.

****

Yennefer steps out of the car, sparing a passing glance at the boy they just almost hit. Her parents ignored him just like they always ignore her. She idly wonders what would have happened if they’d hit him – the boy never even faltered. Just keeps walking with his stupid headphones on. She wonders what he’s listening to. Considers stealing his Walkman or his headphones. But he doesn’t strike her as popular enough for her attentions.

After all, she doesn’t bully loners.

Without a single word or even a backwards glance through the rear-view mirror, her father takes off again, not even acknowledging her existence. She tries not to let it get to her.

She fails. As always.

Swallowing down the lump that has been forming in her throat ever since she was born, Yennefer follows the boy with the misplaced spring in his step to the front door and into the library. Artificial, blaring light hits her and she can already feel the headache coming on. The fluorescent tubes in the ceiling are doing nothing to wake her up and only increase her already bad mood.

Three rows of tables are set out in the middle of the library. She takes a seat in the second one, wanting to be in the middle of the action – because of course there will be action. She’ll make sure of that if she needs to.

ask me about my wips

#geraskier #yenntriss #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #yennefer of vengerberg #triss merigold #nat rambles #wip game #OH HEY CHECKING MY NOTES AGAIN IT'S BEEN A WHOLE FUCKING YEAR SINCE I STARTED THAT KSJDHS i have a problem #sorry i am too lazy to format this one with the indents bc that #is a few too many paragraphs for me to manually edit out the weird space tumblr decides to put between them so. have this #breakfast club au #man i really gotta watch the movie again. i need this au in my life

[venator-signum]

lambert and triss are mlm and wlw hostility thanks

#rosi shitposts #the witcher #lambert #triss #triss merigold #lambert witcher #I don't think you understand #to me this feels like one of those things where they just fucking annoy the shit out of each other #it's glorious #espec cause now a main point of conflict is ciri #mlm #wlw #im just gonna go ahead and say #lambden #yenntriss

[ihyperfixatedtoohard]

Hey there!! About the sentence prompt list, I'd like to request "Idiots. They are idiots." referring to Geralt and Jaskier. Gen or Geraskier.

Thank you! Take your time! And would totally get it if you don't write anything for whatever reason, no pressure!

Hey! Thank you so much for the ask, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get to inherently, but here it is! If anyone else wants to suggest anything from this same list, you can do so Here! Hope everyone has a lovely day! 💙

Word count: 800~

Warnings: I don't think there are any? Implied sexual act? But, like, it's only lightly implied.

Ship: Geraskier, background (implied) Yenntriss (Trissifer?)

"Idiots. They're fucking idiots." Yennefer grumbled to Triss as she watched Geralt and Jaskier fawning over each other. They had clearly been in love for years, and yet neither seemed to notice. Yennefer had hoped that once things had settled and the fighting had ended they would finally have time to register their feelings, but no- they're both as dense as ever and it's giving her a fucking headache.

"They'll figure it out eventually, Yenna. Just be patient."

"How!? They're insufferable! Look at them!" She gestured wildly to the pair seated across from them in the tavern. Jaskier had just stolen Geralt's tankard of ale and was giving him what could only be described as a sultry glance, and Geralt had merely rolled his eyes in response.

"... Okay, I see your point." Triss gave a gentle laugh. "Not much to be done about it though."

"Well..."

"... Yenn, whatever you're thinking, don't-" but it was too late. Yennefer was already out of her seat and crossing the bar to greet the two idiots in question. Jaskier was the first to notice her.

"Ah, Yennefer! Lovely of you to join us! Geralt and I were just about to partake in a drinking contest! Care to join?"

'I already told you that it won't be much of a contest, Jaskier." He chuckled softly. He seemed to be much freer with his emotions now that things had died down, much to everyone's delight.

"He must be a masochist," Yennefer mused, "punishing himself by starting a competition he knows he'll lose." She sat down across from both, ready to stir the shit until they fell together on their own. Geralt was stifling his laughter (not well), whilst Jaskier looked on in mock horror.

"I- how dare you, Yennefer! I thought we were finally friends!"

"We are, but you've been annoying me lately. And you too, Geralt." She tacked on before Geralt could piggyback off of her previous statement.

"... How have I been annoying you?"

"Wait, yeah, seriously. The man hardly speaks- ow! Knock it off, Geralt!" Jaskier lightly smacked Geralt's arm for elbowing him in the side.

"See- see, this is my problem! Your constant dancing around each other is driving everyone up the fucking wall! Either fuck already, or stop flirting!" With that last bitter remark, Yennefer left their table, leaving Jaskier and Geralt completely dumbfounded.

"I... have... have you been-"

"Have you been flirting with me?" Jaskier finished the sentence for Geralt.

"I-... well... maybe... I just-... maybe a little." Oh, and if witchers could blush, Geralt's face would be bright red by now.

"... You... are you serious?" Jaskier's eyes lit up as Geralt sheepishly met his gaze.

"... Yeah-" Geralt found himself suddenly with an armful of excited bard- a bard who was now peppering his face with kisses.

"Oh, you stupid fucker! How dare you not tell me! For how long!? Oh, you bastard, I've been in love with you for years! You absolute prick!" Jaskier bombarded him with words between kisses- so many that Gefalt couldn't really tell if he was meant to respond or not, so he didn't. He just allowed himself to melt as the weight of his affections was lifted of his shoulders- as it felt that all his problems were being kissed away.

"So… you feel the same, then?" Geralt asked- somehow still feeling somewhat unsure.

"...... Are you truly this thick-headed? Of course I feel the same, you dolt! Gods, why did it take you so fuckung long!?"

"I just… I didn't want to ruin what we already had…" Geralt sighed softly. "You're incredibly important to me, Jask… I didn't want you to leave me."

"... Geralt, there is nothing you could ever do or say to make me leave you. Not unless I thought you wanted me to, which we already know-"

"Ah, fuck. I'm still so-"

"Years ago, love. You've already apologized countless times. Water under the bridge. Now, what say you to… getting up to what Yennefer declared we should, hm?" Jaskier cast that sultry look Geralt's way, and the witcher finally understood what that gaze had meant everytime Jaskier had turned it upon him. Geralt nodded quickly, not trusting God his mouth to form anything coherent at the moment. Jaskier let out a slight laugh before grabbing Geralt's arm and pulling him up to their room at the inn.

Yennefer watched them leave from across the way, a self-satisfied smile on her face.

"... Wow... I didn't think you could actually do it." Triss said.

"Well, I just explained the situation. Simple as that."

"... So you told them how they felt?"

"Exactly."

"... Sounds a bit familiar, don't you think?" Triss laughed lightly as she lifted her tankard to her lips. Yennefer shot her a playful glare.

"Shut the hell up."

#the witcher #writing prompt #after the war #fluff #geraskier #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivera #julian alfred pankratz #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher #background yenntriss #yenntriss #yennefer is just so goddamn fed up with these idiots #and so is everyone else #they just need a bit of a shove to realise their feelings! #i hope this is kind of what you were looking for #it was the only thing i could think of! #and it kinda latched onto my brain and wouldn't let go once i thought of it lmao #i hope you like it!

[fruithoods]

the witcher + ao3 tags

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #dandelion #yennefer #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #the witcher netflix #yennefer x triss #yenntriss #trissifer #triss merigold

[jaskicr]

yentriss but they’re childhood friends, and they’re separated for decades until they eventually find their way back to each other 

summary:

“Thank you for giving me my flower back!” the girl exclaims when Yennefer hands her the flower, beaming brightly at Yennefer. “It's nice to meet you. My name is Triss!”

“I'm Yennefer,” Yennefer mumbles, curling her shoulders inwards, bracing herself for the inevitable disgust and hatred when Triss sees her crooked spine, but Triss only smiles at her, bright and warm, and Yennefer doesn’t understand. Why doesn't Triss flinch away from her like all the other children do?

“You seem lonely, Yennefer. Do you want to be friends?”

A friend. Yennefer's never had a friend before. She wonders what it’s like, whether Triss will be nice to her, whether Triss will stay by her side, and gods, she wants to be Triss' friend, to play and chatter and laugh with her, something Yennefer has never gotten to do with other children.

Or: Yennefer and Triss meet when they're children, only to be torn apart a decade later, and they spend decades thinking that the other is dead. But one day, when a sorceress of Aretuza saves a witcher of Kaer Seren, Yennefer wonders why this witcher looks so familiar. But Triss is dead, isn't she?

----

There is a girl skipping outside of the barn.

Yennefer watches her, the girl who looks no older than Yennefer herself, watches as she weaves her way through the field, curls bouncing, getting closer and closer to where Yennefer is. As she approaches, Yennefer notices that there’s a flower tucked into the girl’s hair, white petals bright against her dark curls - a flower that gets caught in the passing breeze, pulling it away from the girl’s hair, carrying it through the air until the flower lands gently beside Yennefer’s feet. 

Slowly, Yennefer bends to pick it up. A small distance away, the girl is looking around frantically, and Yennefer takes a hesitant step forward. She should give the flower back, she knows, but she doesn’t want to approach the other girl. She knows how other children react to her - they see her, and their faces screw up in disgust, in wretched judgement, and they push her away, calling her names and spitting out insults. 

Ugly. Abomination. Freak. 

Yennefer knows why. She looks different from children her age - her back is crooked, her jaw slanted, her eyes an unnatural purple, and other children don’t like it, don’t like how she looks different, strange, other. So she’s learned to not come close, to keep away, even as she aches to join in their games, their chatter and laughter - and this girl, this girl with flowers in her hair, surely she won’t be any different. 

But the girl looks frantic, her bottom lip wobbling, and Yennefer can’t stand to see that. So she steps forward, slow and hesitant, and the girl’s eyes snap up to meet hers.

“Here,” Yennefer says softly, holding out the flower towards the other girl, curling her shoulders inward and bracing for the girl’s reaction. 

The girl beams brightly and takes the flower back from Yennefer, their fingers brushing, no hesitance behind her touch, so unlike the other children, who flinch and recoil from Yennefer like she’s a disease.

“Thank you!” the girl exclaims, tucking the flower behind her ear. She’s still here. She still hasn’t walked away. She hasn’t sneered at Yennefer in disgust, or pushed her to the ground with a jeering laugh, and Yennefer - she isn’t quite sure what to do.

“You’re welcome,” she mumbles, like her parents had snarled at her to do when someone thanks her, casting her eyes to the ground, fingers twisting into the rough material of her skirt. “Uh…”

“My name is Triss!” the other girl - Triss - pipes up, and Yennefer peeks up from underneath her lashes to see Triss sticking out a hand towards her, eyes bright and eager. “It’s nice to meet you! What’s your name?”

Yennefer blinks at her, gaze darting from Triss’ outstretched hand to her eager eyes, an expression that Yennefer has never seen directed towards her before, and she must be responding a little too late, because Triss’ smile starts to dim, her hand drooping slightly. Quickly, Yennefer stick out her own hand, shaking Triss’ hand a little too stiffly, her grip a little too tight, before dropping her hand back to her side.

“I’m Yennefer,” she murmurs, and Triss’ smile is as bright as the sun as she lights up, bouncing on her feet. 

“Yennefer! Thank you for giving me my flower back,” Triss gushes, and Yennefer thinks - that’s that. That’s all that will come out of this encounter, this bright and welcoming girl who’s perhaps the first person to ever smile at Yennefer in such a way, and Triss will walk away and Yennefer will never see her again. 

But Triss doesn’t leave, instead watching Yennefer with inquisitive eyes. 

“You look lonely,” Triss remarks, and Yennefer hunches in on herself, embarrassed. Of course she’s lonely. No one wants to be around her. But then - “Do you want to spend time with me? I’m just looking at the flowers - they look really pretty today.”

“I…” No one has ever done this before. Who would even want Yennefer to spend time with them?

“I’ll show you which flowers I like the most,” Triss continues, reaching up to brush her fingers against the flower in her hair. “And you can tell me which ones you like. They’re all really pretty. And we can - we can be friends? Do you want to be friends?”

Her voice lilts up hopefully at the end, and Yennefer doesn’t know what she’s doing, doesn’t know if she should take this leap. A friend. She’s never had a friend before. She wonders what it’s like, whether Triss will be nice to her, whether Triss will stay by her side. 

Triss is looking at her, eyes wide and hopeful. She’s so nice, so bright, and Yennefer wants to be her friend, wants to play and chatter and laugh with her like the other children do with each other. 

She takes the leap.

“Alright,” she agrees, and Triss beams once again, grabbing Yennefer’s hand without reserve and guiding her towards the fields. “So. Uh. The flower in your hair - it’s really pretty. What - what flower is it?”

“Oh!” Triss touches the bright petals of the flower before glancing back towards Yennefer. “They’re white carnations. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Yennefer bobs her head in agreement, casting her gaze out towards the field before her before hesitantly pointing at a pink blossom at her feet. “And - and this one?”

“It’s a tulip!” Triss tells her, and that’s how the afternoon goes, Yennefer pointing out flowers that catch her eye, and Triss telling her about them. It’s - it’s nice, to have company, to have someone who doesn’t look at her with disgust or hate or judgement in their eyes, to have someone who smiles at her, bright and easy, like she isn’t the crooked girl who’s insulted by her everyone around her, like she’s worth spending time around. Like she’s a friend.

link in reblog to keep reading!

#yentriss #yenntriss #trissefer #yennefer x triss #yennefer of vengerberg #yennefer #triss merigold #triss #the witcher #mine*

[reinvent-and-believe]

for the touch prompts: with a promise! 😊

The fireplace roars before them, warming Yennefer’s face as much as the bottle of Everluce they split. The flickering firelight dances across Triss’s skin and brings out all its gorgeous golden tones. Her chestnut hair falls in soft, tousled curls that seem to bounce on her shoulders every time she dissolves into giggles.

Triss dissolves into giggles frequently with Yennefer. Always has. But Triss is vibrant and warm and full of life, Yennefer’s opposite in every way; no, making Triss giggle has never been a challenge.

That Triss somehow pulls unexpected, faltering chuckles from Yennefer is far more disconcerting. Somehow Triss can melt the ice queen’s heart, reduce her to a school girl, nervous and desperate to please.

The little house in Vengerberg has never felt so warm.

The air between them is pregnant, heavy with potential. It always is, somehow, but tonight’s amplified, tonight Triss’s fingers are lost in Yennefer’s silky black tresses as she bites her lower lip, a silent question in those honey-brown eyes.

And Yennefer wants her, has always wanted her, in truth, but her relationship with Triss is the only pure, uncomplicated friendship she has, the only person in her life who seems to stick around even after they’ve gotten to know her, even after they’re done using her for her power.

Yennefer traces Triss’s jaw, the perfect little indentation of her chin with her thumb. “Promise this won’t ruin us?” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. She hates the uncharacteristic vulnerability in her voice but can’t seem to tamp it down.

Triss fixes her with a soft, brilliant smile. “I promise,” she swears sweetly, and then she kisses her.

*

They lie side by side in the grass, staring at the stars and knowing that neither will sleep.

Not far away, the gathered forces of Sodden Hill, such as they are, drink and pray and carouse and prepare for battle.

The Temerians have not come, and Nilfgaard draws ever closer.

Triss shivers beside her, and instinctively Yennefer covers her, covers them both in her cloak. But it’s not the cold.

She curls into Yennefer, throwing an arm about her waist and pulling her close. “Promise me.” She lets out a choked little noise as she clings, her tears warm when they hit the skin of Yennefer’s neck but quickly cooled by the night’s wind. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid and sacrificial.”

Yennefer kisses the top of her head. Triss’s prodigious magical control of plant life makes such sense; beneath her tender, attentive care, watered by her tears, Yennefer thinks she could flourish, too. “Only if you promise the same.”

It’s a promise neither can keep, so they hold each other in silence.

*

It’s been an afternoon of fighting.

About everything, about nothing.

About the way the dishes are arranged in the cabinets. About whether they’ll need a shawl on this cool autumn day. About the candle left burning on the nightstand every night and how it’s going to burn the house down one day. About the properties of a particular spell. About whether they should walk or teleport to the market. About...

“I wish you would damn well tell me what it is you’re so pissed about or go bother someone else!” Yennefer barks.

Triss looks as though she’s been struck.

Yennefer turns away for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose. She hears Triss moving slowly, the quiet drag of a chair against the wooden floor. “I shouldn’t have—”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Triss is sitting at the kitchen table, staring at her hands folded primly in front of her. “You have a family now. When it was just Geralt and the wish and all that, that was one thing, but now you have Ciri, too.” Triss sighs, burying her head in her hands with a moan of frustration. “I don’t begrudge you that, truly I don’t. I adore them both, and...she’s Geralt’s fate, his Child of Surprise, but she’s something more than that to you, Yennefer. She’s the child you chose.”

“Triss—”

“Let me finish,” she says softly, taking Yennefer’s hand. “I’m overjoyed that you get to experience this! Gods know family isn’t an option for most of us. I just don’t know that there’s a place for me in it.”

There’s loneliness written in the furrows of Triss’s brow, the downcast eyes.

Yennefer climbs into her lap, straddling her and taking her face in both hands. “Nothing ties me here but my choice,” she says. “You’re right. Geralt and I are linked by fate, now I have Ciri to consider. But I want everything, Triss. And I choose you.” She kisses her fiercely before burying her face in Triss’s lavender-scented hair, pulling her into a long, tight hug. “You won’t be rid of me that easily,” she murmurs into her neck. “Where there’s a place for me, there’s a place for you.”

She feels the long breath Triss releases, the way her arms tighten around Yennefer’s waist. “Promise?” she asks softly.

Yennefer pulls back and tilts Triss’s face up gently, locking eyes. “Promise.”

*

“It’s bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day,” Triss scolds, but there’s no heat to it. She faces away from the door, pointedly refusing to make eye contact in the mirror as she brushes a warm sunset red on her lips.

“Peasant superstition. I’ve seen you plenty of times.”

Triss rolls her eyes at that, but she’s smiling. “You’re incorrigible,” she says, but her dimple belies the chastisement. “Getting cold feet?”

Yennefer hesitates. “Not about you.”

Triss turns to look at her. Those kind eyes miss nothing. “But about the wedding?” she prompts gently.

Yennefer shrugs. “It all seems a bit superficial, doesn’t it? The pomp? The flowers? Gods, Triss, the flowers are out of control, have you seen what Jaskier’s done?”

“I like the flowers.” Triss stands, taking both Yennefer’s hands in hers. “What’s wrong, love?”

She’s beautiful. The flowing yellow gown, the glow of her tawny skin, the sparkle in her eyes, the crown of white and yellow and orange flowers in her hair: Triss Merigold is the most beautiful bride, and Yennefer forgets how to speak.

Triss just laughs, kissing her softly. “You’re afraid that once we’re married, things will be somehow different. That we’ll immediately know we’ve made a huge mistake, that we’ll stop making love and realize we hate each other as soon as we’re bound.”

“Not immediately,” Yennefer admits quietly. “Slowly.”

Triss brushes a loose strand of dark hair from her lover’s face. “I’ve no intention of tying you down, love,” she murmurs. “If things change, we’ll adapt, just as we always have. We’ll tell everyone to go home if you want, but the purpose of the wedding isn’t to lock you into something you can’t escape. All I want is to stand before our friends and our family and let them know how completely I adore you.” Triss rests her forehead against Yennefer’s. “I can’t promise that nothing will change, love. We’ve both seen far too much to believe such a thing. But we’re together and we love each other, and I think that’s something worth celebrating.”

Yennefer takes a breath. “This won’t ruin us,” she says softly.

Triss smiles. “I’ve yet to find anything that can.”

#hi friend please accept this humble offering of fluff #norationalthoughtrequired #yennefer x triss #trissefer #yenntriss #is that what we call this ship? idk #the witcher fic #the witcher #hi i'm soft and gay pls hold me #my fic

[obsidian-thunder]

The wind ceased. The various debris, anything that wasn’t bolted down, settled almost immediately, the wind being unable to penetrate through the thick shield of magic. Triss gazed up at the woman in awe, a small smile of relief tugging at her lips.

Bless you, Yenna.

From “Shades of Violet” by BlastoffSir

#Yennefer of Vengerberg #Triss Merigold #The Battle of Kaer Morhen #The Witcher 3 #tw3 #gif #yennetriss #yenntriss #yentriss #trissefer #trissfer #blastoffsir #shades of violet #the witcher #the witcher games #kaer morhen #yennefer x triss #triss x yennefer #doppler trissefer

[ilivemydreamsthere]

Femslash February- day 2 - I can't bring her back don't you understand?

The evening found younger mage in the inn. Triss wasn't feeling good. She did drink alot that evening. The Inn keeper was giving her more and more drinks without asking she might just loked very sad for him.

"Forgive me but, what problems can young and beautiful mage have, that they make you drink so much?" He asked when he was passing her another drink. Triss loked up to him and chuckled not very happily.

"Ah you would be suprise "She said sipping the drink slowly now.

"I did hear alot alredy try me." He winked on her and continued speaking "Also so much drinking and alone is probably cause by love."

Triss loked down for moment "Love....yes my love is death "

"Who was he ?" The inn keeper asked curious wondering who this beautiful mage mourn.

"She ...we had been fighting during battle of Soden and I could not even tell her what I feel. "

"Oh all of drinks are on inn. All of your people were kind of heroes "he said hearing about it from many soldires before he saw Triss Merigold.

"Heroes or not I can't tell her I love her cause she is death and she was just in love with someone else "She said finishing the drink.

"Yennefer and Geralt destined to be together "She blinked tears away. "Fuck the destiny I should be more brave and tell her ..."

"Oh my dear take it as transformation to future. You know what you like now ...go find it again "

But paradoxly it just make her cry and gasped for air. She was having panick attack. Shivering and crying.

"You are mage used magic....find her who cares if someone love her too. "

"I can't bring death back ... don't you understand?"Triss said softly.

#the witcher #the witcher season 2 #femslash february #triss merigold #yennefer #yenntriss #mentionofGeralt #day 2 #sad #After battle of Soden #Triss think Yen is death

[deeplywornletters]

Merpeople

For @artistsfuneral ’s Inktober - Day Five: Merpeople

Prompt by: @amethystpagan​

A Yenntriss one-shot picking up exactly where season 1 left off. Thanks to @dapandapod​ for coming up with this idea for me <3 (I may come back in the future and write a more extensive version of this)

CW: Hurt+Comfort, death mention

A scream, followed by a sea of fire.

 Triss raises her arms to protect herself, instincts taking over. But the pain never comes. As she opens her eyes she realizes that the flames are everywhere, but she is protected inside a small cocoon, like a butterfly waiting to hatch.

 She can hear the soldiers crying out in pain, but she doesn’t care.

 All she cares about is the source of that scream.

 Yennefer. If anything happened to her, Triss doesn’t know what she would do. And she doesn’t want to find out.

 Suddenly, silence. Eerie and so loud that it takes Triss a moment to realize that she is no longer engulfed in flames.

 But what she makes out in the distance as she’s lying on the ground makes her wish the fire had eaten her alive.

 Purple eyes meet hers as she sees Yennefer fall down the cliff she was standing on, body limp.

 This time, it is Triss who screams as she hears a soft splash in the distance where Yennefer’s body hits the river surface down below.

 She gets up, every muscle in her body fighting against the movement, because she has to find her, has to make sure she’s okay, they’re okay.

 Somehow, by luck or sheer faith, she manages to blindly stumble down the rocks without breaking her neck.

 She welcomes the cool air by the riverside, but even here she’s haunted by the smell of burnt corpses and scorched earth.

 Triss can feel her heart beating in her chest like a thunderstorm, eyes gliding over the shimmering surface, silently clinging onto even the tiniest sliver of hope, when suddenly she makes out a shape hidden behind some bushes.

 Yen.

 As she approaches her, she can already tell that something is wrong. Yennefer must have been badly hurt in the fall, because Triss can’t even make out the shape of her legs, probably twisted and broken in every imaginable way-

 Her eyes widen when the realization hits her.

 Yennefer’s legs aren’t broken. They simply aren’t there anymore.

Instead, and even in the darkness of the night, she can see a beautiful long fishtail, black scales illuminating the moonlight.

 It is breathtaking and for a moment she is lost in the moment, simply admiring her girlfriend.

 A groan from Yennefer snaps her out of it though and she kneels down beside her, taking her head into her hands.

 “You’re alive!” she says, eyes full of disbelief and tears. Yennefer gives her a warm smile that is replaced by a grimace full of pain as soon as she lifts her hand to touch Triss’s face.

 “My hands!” She looks at them, skin so burned it is red and raw and bubbling. Yennefer lets out a sob, and Triss’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

 At least she’s alive. At least they have each other.

 “I’ve got you, my little mermaid.”

#nikkisinktober #i didn't proofread this since it's almost 11pm #yenntriss #also first time writing yenntriss #yennefer of vengerberg #triss merigold #merpeople!au #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #inktober #yennefer x triss

[geraskierficrecs]

Sentinel/Guide AU

Check out the new chapter here.

Here’s a teaser:

Eskel made an inhuman noise of anguished relief and sprinted forward, uncaring of the snow slowing his momentum.  He moved without any interest in grace or agility--just speed.  For the first time in Geralt’s memory, he could feel the guide’s unfettered emotions buffeting him like the winter wind.

Joy and relief blurred together in a heady rush that left Geralt struggling to focus on anything but the confusing mixture of his own reaction and Eskel’s.

He kept his eyes fixed on the familiar grey gelding stepping with the same exhausted rhythm of a creature beyond recognizing what was in front of it.  There was none of the placid, cheerful personality Geralt remembered from happier days when he’d watched the horse slowly attempt to win over his own mare.  If he dared to remember, he could practically picture the image of Jaskier carefully plaiting flowers into the foolish creature’s mane.

Eskel moved without the weight of the sentinel’s longing, crossing the distance in long strides.  Aiden seemed to sense his approach and Geralt caught the barest whisper of the guide’s name before the wind snatched it away.

Still, those fever bright eyes remained locked on Eskel like he was afraid to look away.  He shivered violently--something that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the sensation of his bondmate within touching distance for the first time in a year.

It was hard to tell if it was a collapse or just the meeting of two planets snapping back into orbit.  Geralt watched Aiden slide off the saddle and land heavily into the open arms of the other guide, sending him tumbling backwards into the snow.  Eskel’s arms wrapped around Aiden and he buried his face into the curve of his neck, breath coming in ragged sobs that caused a similar ache in Geralt’s chest.

#sentinel geralt #sentinel/guide au #sentinel lambert #found family #guide jaskier #guide yennefer #guide triss #guide eskel #angst #hurt/comfort #soulbonds #empath jaskier #my stuff #ao3 #geraskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #lambert/aiden/eskel #triss/yennefer #yenntriss