#and geralt's not sure exactly what his life is now that his neighbor calls him 'I have a spider. please send the child.' and that's just.

[drowningbydegrees]

Something Ordinary - Part 1

This is my Novigrad Exchange gift for @aalizazareth who asked for fluff, road trip, or hurt/comfort, and I figured how about all of them? I hope this delivers! 

A huge thank you to @goodheavensgwen​ for betaing, but also for all the brainstorming and cheerleading along the way. This fic is so much better for having your input. <3

It’s in the same verse as Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures, but it’s not necessary to read that to understand this one. Not, this is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

Ordinary people don’t… date witchers. Granted, Geralt has been coming to the diner where Jaskier works for the last year and a half, just about. Twenty-one months, but who’s counting? It isn’t a precisely educational experience, but between the pancakes and mediocre coffee he’s come to realize that Jaskier is anything but ordinary.

Geralt had never meant to do anything with that information. If he sometimes goes out of his way to stop in between contracts, it’s no one’s business but his own. It’s just nice to have one place he can go where someone is genuinely happy to see him. And alright, Jaskier is more alluring than he has any right to be. And perhaps Geralt spends his visits wordlessly nursing a cup of coffee just to have an excuse to listen to Jaskier chatter on about nothing in particular a while longer.

Well, he did, anyway. Things are different in the months since they exchanged numbers after Geralt stumbled in half dead after a contract. Jaskier’s conversation demands more participation, his smiles are more intentional. And though Geralt would like to think he put up at least a token resistance over these last few months (in which he has received what he’s sure are more text messages than his entire life before), somehow Jaskier has pulled Geralt right along with him.

The point is, Geralt doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let himself get attached to people. He doesn’t give himself a reason to maybe stay in one place a little more. He definitely doesn’t go for coffee shop dates. The fact that their current circumstances started with an attempt to do exactly that is completely coincidental.

Wednesday

2:15 p.m.

Like many things in Geralt’s life, things go sideways before they even start. They don’t even make it inside the coffee shop before his phone rings, and given the only person who calls him for frivolous reasons is right next to him, it’s probably important. All of which is why Geralt had to cancel and is pulling into the gas station before a six hour trip to Oreton.

He’s still not sure how Jaskier got here, though. It’s a bewildering leap from a coffee date to committing to hours in an enclosed space together, but by the time Geralt wraps his head around that Jaskier is already in the passenger seat.

“I’ll get snacks,” Jaskier offers, already opening the car door. “Do you want anything?”

Geralt motions to a box in the back seat. “I’m good.”

“Are those granola bars?” Jaskier makes a comically disapproving noise, sliding out of his seat. He leans over enough to poke his head back in. “Do you know who thinks granola bars count as road trip snacks? My grandma.”

“What’s wrong with…” Geralt starts, but Jaskier is already gone.

To Jaskier’s credit, he’s emerging from the gas station once more by the time the gas tank is full. Well, Jaskier along with a bag of what looks like more candy than someone could eat in a week and the two cups he’s juggling.

“I promised you coffee! I can’t guarantee it’s good coffee, mind you, but it is coffee,” Jaskier explains before Geralt can ask, circling the car to press a cup into the witcher’s hands.

He doesn’t do this, and supposes he could be mistaken, but Geralt is pretty certain the coffee isn’t actually the operant word in ‘coffee date.’ Still, it’s… it’s something he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Jaskier has always been friendly, but he’s taken up doing all sorts of things as of late that can’t be chalked up to it being his job, and they never seem to leave Geralt any less unmoored than he feels right now, staring at the paper cup aggressively warming the palms of his hands.

“It’s for drinking,” Jaskier prompts, and as silly as it is, the whole thing only gets more absurd. Because the glare Geralt responds with is normally enough to make people shy away, but Jaskier doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be alarmed. He laughs, soft and lilting in a way Geralt never wants to let go of, like there’s nothing strange about any of this. Like the two of them are made for these ordinary things Geralt has never given himself the space to want.

But Jaskier has never been ordinary.

3:07 p.m.

He’s made a terrible miscalculation in this plan, Jaskier privately acknowledges about thirty miles from home. This plan. The one that was definitely an actual plan and not just an impulsive desire to go on an adventure and see Geralt in action. Does it count as a plan if he invents a purpose? Maybe he’ll write a song about it. The subject matter is a little niche, but that’s half the appeal.

The other half of the appeal is the man sitting in the driver’s seat, silently watching the nearly empty highway stretch out in front of them. He’s always pretty, but working third shift Jaskier has never really gotten to see Geralt like this, drenched in sunlight that softens his features and mutes the slight frown that seems to own permanent real estate on his face. It’s haunting, the way it lights up Geralt’s silvery white hair, like some particularly attractive ghost.

Therein lies the miscalculation, because the thing is, Geralt is no different than any other time Jaskier has been around him, which is about as talkative as the pet rock he had when he was six. Normally, that’s fine. Geralt tolerates Jaskier’s chatter at the diner. And since it’s Jaskier’s job, he usually only wanders to Geralt’s table for minutes at a time. But there are no places to wander off to in the passenger seat of Geralt’s car, and he’s barely gotten three words out of the witcher since the gas station.

“So, what are we hunting?” he tries, because it’s the one topic he’s seen loosen Geralt’s tongue. A lot, actually. He doesn’t remember even half of what Geralt tells him, but it’s terribly endearing all the same. Even if it leaves him longing to know more about what else Geralt cares about.

“I am hunting a leshen. You are staying in the car,” Geralt replies without so much as a glance his way. If he notices Jaskier’s exasperated sigh, he gives no indication.

“I… remember you mentioning those, I think,” Jaskier focuses on the leshen because it was very definitely on the list of things Geralt told him about the first night he successfully got the witcher to have anything resembling a conversation. He resolutely ignores all the words Geralt just said around that. If he doesn’t lie and say he’ll stay put, then he won’t be lying when he inevitably does not do that. Sheepishly, he ducks his head. “In my defense, there was kind of a lot going on that night. Maybe tell me again?”

That earns Jaskier a smile, however small and brief it is. It’s a win as far as Jaskier is concerned. Now if he could just wrangle a conversation.

“Tall. Sort of humanoid. Covered in branches.” Geralt says nothing else until Jaskier clears his throat, trying to prompt the witcher to give him something at least. “They have antlers.”

“Very informative,” Jaskier chides, shaking his head. He supposes he should have known better than to assume this would work. “Anything else?”

“They live in the forest.” Jaskier is so surprised to actually get an answer, he almost misses the way the corner of Geralt’s mouth twitches upward. “You know, like noonwraiths.”

Jaskier gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if in shock. “Was that… I’m sorry. Was that a joke I just heard?”

It’s been a ridiculous joke between them for a while now, but it hits differently this time. It’s always silly, but for the first time it sinks in that it’s theirs. They have A Thing, and it leaves Jaskier all but vibrating to realize because that’s… well, that’s significant. It feels significant at any rate.

“You were serious about the woods though, right?” Jaskier asks once he remembers they were in the middle of a conversation.

“I was serious about the woods.”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, trying to make sense of that. “Then, how is it an emergency?”

“This one was in someone’s yard,” Geralt clarifies. As much as Jaskier would like to be annoyed by the brevity, he has to admit that that actually more or less clears it up.

Jaskier tries to imagine this tree branch antler person… thing creeping over the fence of some poor, unsuspecting homeowner like a nosy neighbor. It’s a mistake, because Jaskier doesn’t know the shape in which those descriptors fit together, so it’s much more comical than frightening. He tries and fails to stifle an amused huff of laughter, but of course that would be the thing that finally gets Geralt to look at him for a second.

“Sorry, I…” Jaskier pauses, not sure he can actually explain why that’s funny since Geralt has the benefit of knowing how all his sparse descriptors fit together. “So, what are you going to do? Bribe it to go home?”

“Not this time. They’re intelligent, but you can’t reason with them. Most creatures kill because they feel threatened or to survive. Leshens are hostile. Always.” The explanation makes sense. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way around killing the creature, but Jaskier knows he isn’t imagining the sadness clouding Geralt’s features.

He has no idea how someone could possibly meet Geralt, who never takes a life if he can save it, who spends his existence keeping people safe, who has so much compassion for even the most unlovable of things, and think witchers are anything but good. Underneath the caustic disposition he shields himself with, Geralt is kinder than most humans. It makes Jaskier yearn to coax the world into seeing what he does.

Maybe he can. There’s the beginning of an idea, but before Jaskier can follow that thread, he’s distracted by Geralt. More specifically, he’s distracted by Geralt being distracted, something finally luring the witcher’s eyes briefly from the road. So, of course Jaskier turns his head to see what could possibly be so interesting.

“Horses?” Jaskier winces when he realizes he’s asked the question out loud. It’s not really even a question. They were definitely horses, one chestnut and one gray, happily grazing along the fence containing them.

“Witchers used to travel that way,” Geralt murmurs, before Jaskier even asks a question. It’s a good tactic, giving one piece of information to steer away from Jaskier’s pursuit of another. Or it would be if Jaskier wasn’t onto him.

“Yeah. Witchers and everyone else. It’d be pretty inconvenient now though, what with all the… highways and stuff. So, I’m not sure I’m following the significance.” Jaskier watches carefully, but Geralt’s expression betrays nothing. “Unless this is the part where you’re gonna tell me you’re three hundred years old or something.”

Geralt is conspicuously silent. Jaskier has never met someone who can express so much with the various ways he chooses to express nothing. It’s an exasperating quality, but impressive.

“Wait. You’re not actually, are you? I mean, not that that’s a problem, per se. Just that—” Jaskier pauses in the midst of his babbling when he catches Geralt turning his head away just the tiniest bit. It’s not fast enough to hide that Geralt seems to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

3:34 p.m.

There’s a lot of farmland out this way, miles of cornfields, sure, but animals too. Jaskier briefly entertains the notion that maybe Geralt grew up on a farm and is homesick or something. He’s a storyteller by nature, after all, and Geralt is such an enigma, surely he can’t be blamed for trying to fill in the gaps. Jaskier curiously watches Geralt when they lapse back into silence. They’re surrounded on both sides by… actually, Jaskier has no idea what those fields are. The only crop he actually recognizes is corn. But whatever it is, if Geralt has any attachment to it, his expression betrays nothing.

Jaskier is about to write his previous observation off as him reading too much into something ultimately unimportant when crops give way to a green, open meadow. It’s the kind of place Jaskier thinks looks about perfect for a picnic or laying out to watch the clouds drift by, or something. It’s also the kind of place where someone keeps a rather striking-looking horse, its coat a shade of gold just a touch warmer than Geralt’s eyes. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s a palomino,” Geralt replies, though Jaskier doesn’t think he’s actually looked that way. Either Geralt is even more subtle than Jaskier gives him credit for, or something about that merits remembering.

“The breed?” Jaskier presses. This is even more fascinating than coaxing Geralt into talking about monsters. It’s not a subject Jaskier knows a damned thing about either, but it’s an unexpected thing Geralt seems to be interested in, and that all by itself makes it worth pursuing.

“It’s not a breed.” Maybe ‘talking about’ is a little too charitable a description for the handful of words Jaskier gets Geralt to part with at any one time. That’s a puzzle too. Jaskier hasn’t quite sussed out whether Geralt actually doesn’t like talking or if it’s a side effect of the way humans tend to respond to witchers. It’s a shame either way. Jaskier quite likes listening to him.

“Okay…?” Jaskier prods. It’s only afterwards that it occurs to him that if Geralt truly isn’t interested in talking, maybe when the witcher is stuck a foot away from Jaskier and can’t extricate himself from the situation is not the right time to push the matter.

“It’s a color.” After a slight pause, Geralt adds, “Gold coat. White mane and tail.”

There’s more after, not that Jaskier can keep up with most of it. Often, even when Jaskier is actively trying to engage, all he gets from Geralt is a wordless hum or a raised eyebrow. So, the fact that there are a number of words in a row is noteworthy already. That Geralt is continuing to speak without being prompted is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe pushing wasn’t the problem so much as finding the right subject matter.

And thus, a new game is born. Whether out of some sense of dignity or something else, Geralt doesn’t actually mention when they pass by horses. It’s the very slight shift in Geralt’s body language, something Jaskier would probably say was him perking up if it were more explicit, that clues Jaskier in if he doesn’t see them himself. But the minute Jaskier mentions them, Geralt appears all too happy to talk about the precise measurement that differentiates horses and ponies (14.2 hands or less, which then becomes an extended conversation about why horses are measured in hands), the Lippizaner stallion troupe (which Jaskier will admit he would really like to see if they’re even half as impressive as Geralt suggests), and that one breed of wild horses that are maybe possibly completely divergent from domestic horses (Jaskier immediately forgets how to pronounce their name, but he does remember they sort of look like especially stocky donkeys).

“How do you know all this, anyway? I’m starting to think you should have gone to work in a stable or something instead of being a witcher,” Jaskier teases after a particularly emphatic explanation about what an utter failure Redania’s wild horse adoption program is. “I mean, it would definitely be my loss, but…”

He trails off, teasing smile immediately fading as he happens to look over at Geralt. Even when he’s happy, Geralt’s expressions tend to be a bit muted, but there’s no trace of anything like happiness now. His head is subtly bowed, like he’s ashamed of something, and that just won’t do at all. There’s nothing shameful about the details that make up a person. Before Jaskier can ask what exactly dampened the mood, Geralt softly replies, “I was going to.”

“You were?” It might be a mistake. This was meant to be fun. It’s just that Geralt so rarely gives Jaskier anything about himself, and Jaskier so desperately wants to know him. He rationalizes that if he drops the matter, Geralt will think he doesn’t care and won’t ever try again. “What happened?”

“Not important.” The words are clipped, but Jaskier has at least known Geralt long enough to differentiate between the witcher being actually irritated and any of the multitude of other emotions that make him sound irritated. This is definitely one of the latter.

“Of course it’s important if it makes you look like that.” Impulsively, Jaskier reaches out to lay a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. The way Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin is a stark reminder that he’s not quite so instinctively tactile as Jaskier is. Geralt doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t answer either, so Jaskier only lingers briefly before pulling his hand back into his lap.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating about how things would change when they made me into this,” Geralt explains, so quiet that Jaskier has to listen carefully over the engine. It’s an aching, vulnerable thing, as human a confession as Jaskier has ever heard before Geralt’s expression abruptly shutters.

“I’m so sorry… Wait, made you?” Jaskier realizes, not for the first time, that he knows nothing about witchers. Nothing true at any rate.

But whatever strange magic had coaxed Geralt into speaking has passed, and the witcher doesn’t even acknowledge Jaskier has said anything. He longs to know more, to soothe whatever it is that hurts so much, but Jaskier has at least enough sense to realize that if he presses now, Geralt will think twice about telling him anything later. The minutes stretch out between them like taffy, the silence deafening until Jaskier absolutely cannot take it. He impulsively reaches for the radio, turning the dial until the static of a station that’s long since out of range is coming through the speakers. “So… music!”

Geralt’s lips purse in… actually Jaskier isn’t all that familiar with this particular expression yet. His default state is so grumpy, it’s hard to tell this time if he’s annoyed or uncomfortable. Neither one is what he’s going for, so he pointedly does not ask what that station is, immediately setting about adjusting until a melody cuts clearly through the hissing noise. Fic Masterpost

[pillage-and-lute]

geraskier Internet friends(?) au

Hello Llama! Is it heavily influenced by watching Youtubers react to Corpse Husbands voice? Yes. Have I ever played Among Us? No. This one kinda got away from me, and it’s not really what you asked for, but I hope you like it. 

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It started with Yennefer. Everything in Jaskier’s life (usually the bad bits) seemed to start with Yennefer. He loved her, she was his best friend and the best verbal sparring partner he’d ever had, but after a night out, she always had the best ideas. In the sober light of morning, covered in glitter and (once) in a jail cell, her ideas were the worst.

This time it started with Yennefer asking if her friend could join the Among Us game. Jaskier didn’t have any objections.

“White is kinda sus,” Jaskier said a few minutes later.

“Shut up, Buttercup, you’re only saying that to distract from the fact that I caught you venting.” Yennefer was the black crewmate. She was also right.

“I’m just saying,” Jaskier said into his mic while popping open a soda. “He hasn’t said a single word all game. Anyway, what kind of a nickname is Wolf?”

“Hmmm.”

It was like the rumble of a god, the sort of god that gets carved out of marble.

“Holy fuck who was that?”

“Me,” said the wolf, in that same beautiful, gravelly voice. Jaskier almost spit out his soda. He leaned towards his computer, fluttering his eyelashes although no one could see.

“Well hellooooo wolfie,” he said.

“Hmmm. Yen’s right. Vote yellow.”

Jaskier watched his crewmate spiral into space.

Yennefer sent him Wolf- Geralt’s -number. He sent a quick text as he microwaved dinner. 

“So Wolfie, do they call you that because you growl?”

No reply as he ate the microwave dinner at his tiny, crappy table, in his tiny, crappy apartment. He was getting really tired of eating this shit, too. He went to check the mail.

Jaskier prided himself on looking his best. On workdays. Or going out. Going to get the mail? Not so much. Except there, in the elevator, was Jaskier’s stupid apartment building crush, His neighbor, who he shared a bedroom wall with, who was relentlessly sexy, who always seemed to be in the elevator at the same time. Shit.

Pure white hair at, what, probably twenty six? Twenty seven? He didn’t look old though, he looked kind of timeless. Like a demigod. If Hercules hadn’t been Greek he would have like that. The man gave Jaskier a beautiful, tiny smile, slightly lopsided, almost a smirk, really except it didn’t look mean. His canine, barely visible was slightly more pointed. 

~Fang~ Jaskier thought faintly. He blushed and nodded and wished he wasn’t in grey sweatpants. 

Oh shit. The grey sweatpants. Without underwear. Ohnononoonohnohnohono. He hoped his sexy neighbor didn’t think he was a creep. 

The man brought his arms up and put his hair into a man bun. Jaskier watched the way his arms flexed in his tight black t shirt. Maybe he was a creep. Then his sexy neighbor dragged the hair tie from his wrist with his teeth. 

Jaskier made a squeaking noise, sure his knees were about to buckle. A pale hazel, almost golden gaze was turned on him.

Just then the elevator, jittery at the best of times, made an ominous creaking noise and jolted to a stop. 

Jaskier and his neighbor locked eyes. Then the lights went out.

Jaskier leapt for the emergency button and the red emergency light came on. It was kind of sexy, in a red-LED-lights-in-a-dorm-room way. Jaskier would know, he’d graduated just last year. He was trying very hard not to think about the tiny space he was trapped in.

He hated small spaces.

His neighbor, who only looked better in the red light, was frantically texting someone. He seemed to send one text and then open another. He cocked his head.

Puppy. Jaskier thought. It was better than thinking about the death trap elevator. Sexy Neighbor sent a short text. Not a second later Jaskier’s phone vibrated. They locked eyes.

Jaskier looked at his phone. A response from Yennefer’s friend, Geralt. 

“No,” it read.

“Wolfie?” Jaskier said.

The sexy neighbor’s sexy eyebrows raised. 

“Geralt,” he said. The voice was spine tingling in person.

Jaskier surrupticiously swiped a sweaty palm across his sweatpants before sticking his hand out to shake. 

“Jaskier, its nice to meet you.” They shook hands. His grip could crack a boulder, but it was gentle somehow. “So,” Jaskier said, mouth dry. “Quite the coincidence. How do you know Yennefer?”

Geralt opened his mouth but the elevator rocked suddenly, the emergency light flickering. Jaskier sank down the wall and whimpered.

Geralt was there, crossing the elevator in a half step and kneeling by Jaskier. 

“Are, are you claustrophobic?”

Jaskier nodded, his breathing fast and uneven. Geralt smelled really good, part of him thought. The rest of him was focusing on the black spots forming in his vision as the panic took hold. 

Geralt sat and pulled Jaskier close, holding him back to chest in his lap.

“Take deep breaths with me, its okay. In,” a pause. “And out. In. And out.” His voice was so calming, he could do ASMR videos, Jaskier thought, lack of oxygen making his head fuzzy. It was a shame he couldn’t seem to do as Geralt said.

The elevator jolted again. Jaskier fainted.

He awoke dead, probably. Geralt was shirtless and staring down at him. No, still in the elevator but lying down now, with something soft under his head. Geralt’s t-shirt most likely.

Geralt brushed some of Jaskier’s hair from his eyes. 

“Oh good,” he rumbled. “You were only out for a moment.” Jaskier sat up slowly and Geralt pulled his shirt back on. Pity. 

“The light’s back on,” Geralt said, looking at him so caringly Jaskier could have wept. “I think that’s a good sign, but there’s no signal on my phone, not enough for a call.”

Jaskier nodded, trying to relax his breathing. He couldn’t talk. Being speechless was almost as bad as small spaces.

“You, um, asked how I know Yennefer,” Geralt said. There was something desperate in his voice, and Jaskier suspected he didn’t like talking this much but wanted to keep him calm.

“I met her when she was helping move her friend in.”

“What?” Jaskier found his voice. “When she helped me move in? Really?” He’d been complaining to Yennefer about the unfairly beautiful man next door for almost two months, and shed known?

“You’re Buttercup?” Geralt said, tilting his head in that baffled puppy look again. 

“Only when she’s annoyed at me.”

“I’ve been complaining about you for months,” Geralt said.

“You complain about me?” Jaskier didn’t think he was that bad a neighbor. To his surprise, Geralt blushed.

“Not exactly complain, more like...” Geralt sighed and slid his phone over. It was a sent text to Yen.

Yen you have to help me, he’s in the elevator and he’s gorgeous. He’s in these tight sweatpants, Yen. And his hair is all messy like he’s been running his hands through it. Like somebody’s been running their hands through it. Sweet Jesus Yen he isn’t wearing underwear and I would not be able to make eyecontact if he spoke to me Jesus I’m a creep. I’m trapped in the elevator with the prettiest man ever.

Jaskier looked up, grinning widely. The elevator shuddered to life and began it’s slow descent. “That was quite the panic text. But I’ve been sending her very similar voice messages about you.”

Geralt grinned sheepishly. “So you don’t think I’m a creep?” he said.

Jaskier shook his head.

Geralt winced. “Will you think I’m a creep if I tell you I’ve been going down to check my mail when I hear your door open? I kept wanting to ask you out but I was so nervous...”

He trailed off when Jaskier leaned in.

“Kiss me, please, wolfie?”

Jaskier got a kiss.

There were firefighters as they exited the elevator, as well as the building manager, looking pannicky, but they answered a couple questions and took the stairs back up to their apartments.

“So why are you called Wolf?”

Geralt grinned, somewhat salaciously and opened the door to his apartment. “Wanna see?” 

Jaskier took his hand as Geralt lead him back to his bedroom. His pulse kicked up. Geralt smiled back at him, that same grin, that same heart-stopping hint of fang and...

On the bed was the largest wolf plushy Jaskier had ever seen.

“My Goddaughter won it and gave it to me at a fair the day I met Yennefer.”

“He’s pretty cute, for a wolf,” Jaskier said. He wasn’t looking at the plushy.

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What did you think? It really ran away from me and I know it wasn’t really what you asked for so if you’d like me to give an internet friends AU another go let me know.

[beauty-of-sins]

I hope you warm up to me

College Trissefer. Took me a while but here it is Anon. A dash of Renfi/Triss and Geralt/Jaskier. Hope you guys enjoy it took me quite a while.

Word Count: 5546

Title inspired by: Charlie by Mallrat

And they were roommates  Read on AO3

“I’m Triss Merigold.” the girl said gleefully, her smile full as she greeted her new roommate with an outstretched hand. “You have the most beautiful eyes.”

Yennefer looks at the girl who was a little taller than her, her wavy hair framing her soft face well, and the freckles that were blossoming across her cheeks. Her energy giving off a playful vibe, the type that refuses to slow down. Yennefer could already tell it was going to be a long year.

“Yennefer de Vries.” she said, shaking the offered hand, “ And thank you.” causing Triss to smile even wider.

“Yennefer.” Triss sounded out slowly as if she was tasting it in her mouth, testing the flavor. “I like it!”

Without even asking she takes the bags out of Yennefer hands, walking her to her room. In passing, she was able to see into Triss’s room, seeing that she had already set up most of her things, briefly seeing a couple of stuffed animals on her bed and a drawing pencil on a desk. On the windowsill were several small plants and the walls were plastered with different postures filled with encouraging statements, a rainbow flag hanging proudly on the window.

“You're studying to be a lawyer right?” Triss said, gently placing her things down on her new bed. “I think I’ve heard about you.”

A smirk forms on Yennefer’s face, “I see my reputation proceeds me.”

Triss laughs, “No, Jaskier proceeds you. He always tells everyone about that time you saved him from trouble.”

“You know Jaskier?”

Triss’s eyes twinkling, at the mention of the music major. The junior certainly making an impression during his time at the university.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Several pings in quick succession sounded throughout the room, disrupting the conversation. Triss pulls out her phone, and reads the message before she chuckles.

“There he is right now.” She looks at Yennefer, “Would you like to come with me?”

Yennefer simply shook her head no, “I’d rather stay here if you don’t mind. I have a lot of things to unpack.”

Triss nods, walking towards the door, “We are going to have a good year, Yennefer!” she says before she leaves giving her one last grin before she is out of sight.

Yennefer said nothing, but gave her a little wave goodbye. She will see about that.

-

It was hell.

Yennefer had woefully underestimated just how social Triss is. Whenever she saw her on campus she was surrounded by people, apparently, one of the founders in the student organization clubs on campus called The Lodge, which she had briefly heard about last year. This meant some of their meetings had to be brought there. However they quickly turned into parties in which she has woken up several times to a nearly destroyed kitchen and several drunk people on their couch. Triss would still be up, taking care of all of them and making sure they got home.

It was exhausting to say the least and was at her wit’s end with it by the end of the week. She has no idea how Triss was getting her studies done while having such a social life. It would have killed her by now. Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped.

There were no more groups of people in her apartment, no more loud music banging from the walls late at night. Yennefer opens the door one night and sees Triss at the kitchen table, chewing her lips in thought as she tapped a pencil to a forehead, in front of her was a calculator and a worksheet. Triss looked up upon hearing the door open, giving Yennefer a slight nod, before turning back to her work. Yennefer didn’t know what to say at this development but she wasn’t complaining a bit. Yennefer pausing at the door before she enters her room.

“Thank you.” Yennefer couldn’t see the smile that was blossoming on Triss’s face.

-

Triss did not know how to deal with Yennefer. Triss notices she hides in her room committing dutifully to her studies, always declining an invitation to be social. Not out of timidness, the law student having no problem letting her know how she felt, whether verbally or indirectly. If she hadn’t stopped the partying she could imagine Yennefer was going to punch her with the number of glares she constantly received.

 She could see why some people are afraid of her. She, however, was just curious. Jaskier when talking about her spoke about her in awe, always dramatically retelling his famous Yennefer story, while Geralt spoked about her with the utmost respect. He had told her about their brief history together after a while of knowing him and needlessly to say she was surprised. If she was as caring as he said then there was no need for all the apprehension coming from her other friends.

The Lodge, whispers about her like she is Satan herself. Upon finding out who her new roommate was Sabrina and Keira shared a glance before Phillipa pulls her aside, telling her to call if she needs anything like Yennefer intends to murder her in her sleep.

She supposes that they had all heard about the Jaskier incident in which she easily fought off two of his attackers and then showed up to their hearing and using her knowledge of the court system, actually got them a longer jail time than they were supposed too. Triss found it quite heroic. Phillipa rolling her eyes at her confession before mumbling something about bottoms.

After managing to convince the girls they could no longer party at her place. Triss could tell she appreciated the new quiet, Yennefer started to interact with her more.

 They had fallen into a comfortable routine. Triss gets up early in the morning fixing herself a cup of coffee to prepare for a very long day ahead. Yennefer’s door would be slightly cracked open so she could see her, giving a polite smile as she studied over notes from the previous days lecture. Then Triss would be off to her classes, meeting up with Geralt and Jaskier afterward for lunch. Then,  planning something with the Lodge for a social event on campus. Triss would get home around seven, right before Yennefer would finish with her last class of the day.

If she didn’t have any event or any party to go to. They would sit in comfortable silence in the living room both doing their homework, briefly chatting about the events of the day before they both went to bed.

One of those nights she went to one of Jaskier’s parties drinking her weight in liquor.

Geralt escorting her drunk ass back to her room, glaring at anyone who looked at her. Triss fumbling for her key, trying desperately to put it in the slot when the door suddenly opened, causing Triss to fall forward into an unsuspecting Yennefer. Geralt nodding at the women.

“Yennefer.”

“Geralt.”

Triss glances in between the two, feeling the unsaid words that were being spoken between them. She knew exactly what they were thinking about.

“Do you guys want to have a threesome?” She slurred out winking doing the hard work for them. The two glanced at each other agreeing to never mention this ever again.

“She’ll be in good hands,” Yennefer assured, straightening Triss up so she was leaning against her instead.

“I know. Goodnight, you two.” Geralt said, before turning and leaving.

“Bye Geralt!” Triss yells out into the very quiet building, no doubt they were going to have very pissed off neighbors tomorrow. Yennefer quickly shushing her and escorting her back inside.

“Yen. Can I call you Yen,” she murmured, stumbling forward planting down on the couch, throwing her purse to the side and giving her a lopsided smile. “I had so much fun,”

“I can tell.”

She looks around for a trash can to put near Triss in case she needs to throw up.

“We should go together one of these days.”

“I’m not really a party type of girl.” She replies sitting next to Triss, setting the trashcan down, and offering her a bottle of water. 

“Pleaseeeeeeee” Triss begged, sticking out her bottom lip for effect. “Just one.” Yennefer pauses looking down at the drunk girl. She couldn’t see the harm in it. “Fine. Just one.”

“I’ll make sure it’s the best one. I promise. There will be fireworks, good food, a big pool, a-“

Triss rambling on, Yennefer’s face getting softer and softer watching her continue on. Maybe. Just maybe she could try again, just for her.

“Yen,”

She raises an eyebrow, “We’re going to be good roommates, right?” her voice shaky, like she was trying to hold back tears. Yennefer smiling, before gently smoothing her hair down in an effort to reassure her.

“The best.”

 Triss woke up with a hell of a headache, moaning as she sat up on the couch. She pauses, noticing the sleeping form of Yennefer, next to her. She seemed completely relaxed, her hair gently framing her face as she slept against the arm of the couch. It warmed her heart knowing that she had cared enough to sleep out here with her.

She doesn’t remember too much after she and Jaskier had their little drinking competition, which she should have known not to do. It was hard to say no to that little rascal sometimes. She gets up slowly trying not to wake Yennefer and checks the time on her phone. Shit. She’s late for her meeting. Triss finds a pen and writing a quick note for her.

 Yennefer waking up later and finding the note, smiling at it.

“Thanks for everything. ;) I owe you some time.”

 Yennefer thought it was going to be a one-time occurrence but she quickly found out she was wrong. Nearly every night now, Triss was coming up late and getting up early. Which wasn't a problem in itself, a lot of other students did this. But she was doing all of this while she was still partying. Sometimes Yennefer would hear her throwing up in the toilet in the early mornings and whenever she tried to approach her Triss waved her off spouting some excuse about her just getting used to college again.

Triss did do a lot around campus helping the new freshman, her group and just her classes were difficult. Her roommate was running herself ragged, she didn’t know her that well but she did not want to wake up and find her passed out cause she was overdoing herself. She had to talk some sense into her.

It was a conversation she was dreading and she wonders if this how Tissaia felt when she was raising her during her rebellious phase.

Yennefer got out of class early, after their teacher passed back their quizzes.Yennefer pacing back and forth in the living room, rehearsing what she intends to say. She stops at the clicking of the lock.

Triss walks in, clutching on to her temple, sipping on coffee. Her sunglasses still on even though it was well past daytime.

“We need to talk.”

Triss lets out a sigh at her roommates' tone. She was not in the mood for this, she needs to finish her lab report. “Do we have to? I am so tired.”

“I know that's the problem.”

“What are you trying to say?” Triss says, already becoming defensive. “That I hang out too much? I thought you would like that since you love to stay inside and all.”

“People are terrible to be with,” she said, shaking her head. She never could understand extroverts.

“You think I don’t know that,” Triss said, voice low. “Yet, I still keep trying to be social unlike you!”

“Don’t make this about me!” she exclaimed suddenly, startling Triss who backs up a little. “Half of the people you hang out with aren’t even worth the time.” She shoots back, seeing Triss’s face flash with hurt for a second. “Sorry, we can’t all be perfect like you!.”

“I’m not perfect, Yennefer.” Triss seethes, hand tightening around the cup.

“No, you are.” Yennefer says, stepping towards Triss, she seems to tower over the other girl. “ Always wearing a pretty smile. I bet you had everything handed to you in a silver platter.” she hissed, getting closer to her roommate.

Triss reaches up to her face and snatches her glasses off, looking her right in the eye. She was taken aback by the tiredness in her eyes, there were dark circles around her eyes. That was not what surprised her. It was the pure anger in her eyes, never would she thought she would see Triss like this. Maybe this girl has a backbone after all.

“Don’t say shit about me that you don’t know,” she said, her hand twitching by her side. “I’ve been treated shitty my whole life. I don’t let that stop me.”

 Yennefer takes a deep breath. She knows she was in the wrong she could hear Tissaia berating her right now. It's wrong for her to assume.

She continues. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”  She watches the anger leave out of the girl's eyes at the apology. “ However Triss, this is not healthy for you. You know this.”

Triss says nothing, before closing her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

She makes a move to walk further into the apartment, but couldn’t quite do so with how utterly exhausted she was. Yennefer didn’t say anything, gently guiding her back to her bedroom.

“I think me and you are more alike than you think, Yen.” she said, before Yennefer left her room. Yennefer paused at the doorway.  

“I think so too.”

-

It seemed they both had judged each other too harshly. Triss making an active effort to slow down and assigning more things to other members of the Lodge and actually made time for herself.

It was actually the argument that spurred them to hang out more. They began to have little dinners together, which was Yennefer’s idea. She got tired of seeing Triss just consume coffee and fast food. It felt oddly domestic, the two of them in the kitchen trading stories and laughter, as they made their meal. It felt right even though neither of them could explain exactly why.

After that, Yennefer began tagging along with Triss, on her errands- going grocery shopping, buying items for events, and meeting some of her friends.It was nice to get out. If she had to be honest she was getting a little stir crazy. Her grades stable enough to where she was comfortable relaxing just a tad bit. It was a small world, after all, being introduced to members of The Lodge, specifically remembering Phillipa who was also a law student, glaring at her the entire time. Yennefer smirked at her knowing she was still upset that she had lost a mock trial for class and lost her position as the best student in the class.

She dressed up for court multiples times in her classic suit and tie for her internship at Cintra law firms. This was the only time, Triss got shy, refusing to meet her eyes every single time she wore it. Sometimes she wore it just to see her flustered(but she would die before admitting that).

Triss was a fun person to hang out with she had to admit and even more entertaining to be a roommate too. Sometimes she would catch her dancing to a song, singing to it in the kitchen while she makes breakfast, always encouraging Yennefer to join in. Or sometimes she would hear her gently singing to her plants in her room, wanting to see them grow. It was-if she dare say it adorable. She felt herself relax around her, obliging whenever Triss wished to know more about the cases she was studying. Triss sitting next to her as she discussed a case, happy that someone was interested in her favorite topic.

Triss was a whole bundle of things but she did not expect her to be a smoker. She was surprised when she invited her one night to go with her. They drove to a clearing on the outskirts of town and smoked a blunt together. Yennefer relaxing as a familiar haze began to set in. The stars blazing and beautiful as they laid back against the blanket, touching shoulder to shoulder.

“Triss Merigold. Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“I think you have even more than me.” She said before passing the blunt back to Yennefer, exhaling through her nose.

“Don’t take any offense by this. But you don’t seem like the type to do this.”

Triss shrugs, not bothered by the statement before a little smile grew on her face. “I like that.”

“Subverting expectations?” Yennefer said teasingly before taking another puff.

“Of course. I don’t like hanging around boring people.”

“That explains quite a lot.” She said thinking back on the many characters in the Lodge.

 They were silent, enjoying the nice buzz that was setting in. The crickets seemed to get louder and time seemed to go slower. Yennefer looking over at Triss, who looks at home in this field, it felt that if she were to look away she would never see her again, that she would sink into the soft earth. She was beautiful, with the moonlight streaming on a majority of her face, looking calm, her eyes half-lidded. It all seemed like a dream.

 “Who are you, Yen?” Triss said softly, waking Yennefer up out of her haze. A question that was always on Triss’s mind. She doesn’t want to assume anymore. There was no better time for this conversation, always more bold whenever she was high. Yennefer looks at Triss seeing the genuine curiosity in them. How could she deny her?

 “Now I’m Yennefer de Vries but before that I was nothing.” Yennefer had no problem spilling, at this point too relaxed to even feel stressed out about the topic. “My parents gave me up and left me at the worst orphanage they could fine. I was bullied terribly by both the kids and the adults for not only my looks but my eyes. ”

Triss eyebrows furrowing, processing the information. Kids could be so cruel sometimes. And for her eyes, they were the most beautiful thing Triss has ever seen, preferring to stare into them than any stars.

“I was about to end it all until I was adopted by my foster mom, Tissaia.” she said staring out past the sky it seems. “She saved me, giving me a new name and look. ”

 “I’m glad she did, Yen. I’m sorry that happen to you.” Triss couldn’t imagine not knowing Yennefer and to think she would have never known who she was terrified her.

Yennefer turns towards Triss, feeling a touch on her shoulder. She didn’t move away from it.

“That part of my life is over now.” she said simply. Not even knowing if she truly believed it herself. “What about you?”

Triss’s eyes focus on the ground, “I-my story isn’t half as hard as yours, Yen.” she said, “Not even worth telling.”

Her eyes were conveying something completely different. there were tears appearing out of the corner of her eyes.

“Let me be the judge of that.” she says softly, leaning slightly into Triss feeling the other girl relax at her touch.

Triss closing her eyes, taking in a deep breath, “My parents didn’t want me. I know they didn’t.” Yennefer waits for her to take another hit before continuing feeling some of her anxiety lessening.

“It didn’t matter what I did. It was never good enough for them. How much I exhausted myself. I had to prove to them that I wasn’t a mistake. ”

It started to make sense why Triss was always out doing something, never being able to rest for a second.

“I started having panic attacks from the sheer workload they had put on me and by high school I was a nervous wreck. They stopped thankfully under the advice of my counselors. But they rarely check on me now. The Lodge is mostly my support system now. And so was...Renfi.”

She breathed the name like it hurt her to say. Yennefer wanted to know more. No. She needs to know more.

“Tell me about her.”

A small smile appears as Triss looks up at the stars.

“She was strong, always willing to leap into action. The first one I met who loved me for who I was and not who I could be. ”

Yennefer felt herself frown at the adoration in Triss’s eyes when she talked about this women. “That firefighter was something else.”

“Why did it end if you don’t mind me asking?”

“She had too much on her plate. Too focused on her mission to care for much else.” Her smile fading, “I just couldn’t fit in.”

Yennefer couldn’t stop the anger that was rising in her. How dare that girl do that to Triss. The girl deserves so much better. A tear falls down Triss’s cheek before she quickly reaches up and wipes it away. If she had blinked she would have missed it.

Yennefer didn’t like seeing her like this.

“Come on, I know a place around here.” She said, before standing up, and offering her hand. Triss takes it,  both were grateful that the other couldn’t see their face in the dark, at the blush that spans across both of their faces. Yennefer leads her through the little forest, on the edge of a suburb where a community pool was. She hops the fence before she helps Triss over.

They sneak into the pool, leaping in trying not to be so loud. They didn’t bother taking their clothes off, too excited at their dumb idea. Splashing around, laughing as they tried to tackle each other. Yennefer suddenly picks Triss up and twirls her around in the water. Her heart fill with joys at Triss's laughter, such a sweet sound. They climbed out eventually, completely soaked, as they walked back to Triss’s car.

She would make sure that Triss would never feel alone again. Unknown to her that Triss was making a similar promise to herself, to never let Yennefer ever be mistreated again. Despite the coldness of the air on her wet skin. She had never felt this warm. They drove back to their place feeling a weight lift of both of them.

-

Something had changed between them. It has been months since they first met. Yennefer would find herself doing things just for her, waking up early just so she could see her leave. Paying attention to what kind of coffee she drinks and bringing her some from the local shop, staying up late whenever she had something to do with the Lodge, and making sure she ate something before going to bed.

Triss would find herself declining invitations just to hang out with Yennifer, preferring the girl's company. She would straighten Yen's tie before she goes to work. They would watch a bad cop show, Yennefer pointing out the inaccuracies of the court system on the show, and she was too caught up in her passion to even see Triss staring at her. Several times Triss had fallen asleep on the couch, briefly waking up when she felt movement.

Yennefer would carry her before tucking her in and putting one of her stuffed animals near her for her to cuddle with.  She always resisted the urge to say that she would rather cuddle with her. They were teetering the line of becoming something more than friends, neither wanting to admit it.

Whenever she called Tissaia the first thing out of her mouth was whether our not she had confessed her feeling yet for Triss. She would deny them furiously, blushing a little bit, before she whispered no. Tissaia giving her a scolding about how she wasting her time and how she wanted grandkids already.

Triss herself was being bombarded on all sides by the Lodge and Jaskier. The Lodge smirking at her whenever they saw her across campus with Yennefer, and Phillipa was the worst, making lewd motions at them from across the way. Triss quickly taking Yennefer’s arm and dragging her away before she could say. Jaskier had already talked about his, quite frankly, obvious feelings for Geralt when he had asked her about her roommate. Upon seeing how she immediately starts to blush he figured it out very quickly, beginning to strum his lute in song before she threatened to hit him upside the head with it. It would take just one night for them to stop dancing around each other.

-

It was a Friday afternoon when Triss came to her, smiling from ear to ear with Jaskier and Geralt in tow. They had hung out the past couple of weeks, finding Jaskier amusing and Geralt and her having to stop the other two from committing acts of chaos. It was nice reconnecting with Geralt having someone that understood just how she was even if they were no longer together. She gestured to the seats next to her they sat down, plopping their backpacks down at the cafe.

“Are you free tonight?” Triss asked, excitement clear in her voice. Yennefer looks over at Geralt for help, but he only gave her a slight grin.

“Why?” she said, before sipping on her tea. Jaskier and Triss sharing a look as she did so a mischievous look appearing on both of their faces. Oh no.

  The party surpassed all her expectations, actually containing most of what Triss said in her drunken stupor and more. It was a “friend” of Jaskier’s house that they rented out for tonight.

A mansion with a gigantic pool in front, with enough space to fit half of the people at their university. She saw most of the Lodge there, chilling next to the pool with margaritas in their hands. Jaskier was on top of a table, strumming his lute singing his version of a song, with Geralt watching to make sure that he didn’t fall off and break his neck. Someone had ordered several pizzas and other foods, whoever in charge making sure that everyone was having a good time. However, Yennefer could not find Triss, since she had arrived here.

Triss had received a text and then she excused herself from the little group, frowning as she left. It had been about an hour since she had seen her, moving her way through the party looking for her.

She was halfway inside the mansion, when someone stood in her way, nearly causing her to run into him. He had a shaggy beard and dark brown hair with a crazy look in his eyes, she notices the way he was slightly swaying.

“Hey, beautiful. You looking for a good time.” he slurred, getting closer to her. The smell of alcohol reeks off of him. Yennefer decides that she's going to give him a warning before she knocked his teeth out.

“I am. ” she said, smiling at him, he leers at her statement. “But not with you.” Yennefer began to walk around him, when he grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him, his teeth bared.

“What did you say to me, bitch.” Her eyes narrowing readying herself for a fight when Triss appears out of nowhere, her smile a bit too tight as she took in the scene.

“What’s going on here?”

“None of you're business.” He growled back, tightening his hold on Yennefer. “Get out of here.”

Triss's smile gets even wider before she pulls her arm back. He was not prepared for the fist to fly at his face, a resounding smack echoing throughout the party. the guy crumbling to the ground at her feet. 

“That’s my girl!” someone yelled in the background, probably Phillipa.

“Leave her alone,” she growls out, before turning to a shocked Yennefer with a smile on her face. She leans across from her, offering her a cup.

“Sorry about that. Would you like a drink?” Yennefer eyes were wide as she accepted the cup out of hand. Geralt came over nodding at Triss before picking the creep up preparing to toss him outside.

“I heard you were looking for me.” Triss smiled, holding up her phone, looking over at her friends who were all giving Yennefer a sly smile. “Did you miss me?”

Yennefer rolled her eyes at her before giving a tiny smirk. “Maybe.” Triss blushed, as Yennefer drank from her cup.

“What were you doing anyway?”

“Taling to Renfri.” Yennefer almost choked on her drink filling dread begin to set in her chest. Were they going to get back together?

“Are you guys-”

Triss shook her head no, with a wistful smile. “We were just saying goodbye. She wants to move away from here.”

A flood of relief filled Yennefer’s core at the statement and she knew exactly why. 

She was about three drinks in of whatever alcohol they had mixed together and she was feeling it, having a nice buzz going on. Triss had gone to go talk to her other friends while she leaned against the wall when Geralt appeared. Neither saying anything as they both watched their charges.

“I want you to be happy.”

“Same to you.” she said, looking towards Jaskeir who was humming happily to himself strumming his lute on a couch.

It always amazed her how they could say so little but say so much at the same time. One of the things she will always love about them. She pushes Geralt off the wall, towards him. Jaskier face lighting up as he approached, beginning to sing his song about him. Geralt’s face didn’t change but she could tell that he adored that man.

Yennefer hears a laugh, looking at Triss who was talking to Phillipa and Sabrina. She was laughing so hard, that tears almost fell out of her eyes. She couldn’t fight the smile that starts to appear on her face.

“She’s beautiful, isn't she. Always could light up a whole room.” a voice said from behind her, turning to see a woman with short wavy hair. Renfri, looks at Triss with regret dripping from her voice. “Don’t mess up like I did. Be there for her.”

Before she could respond she was gone, leaving Yennefer standing there watching her. Yennefer finally taking all of her in, the thrum of the music fading out as she watched Triss.

She’s passionate, not afraid to fight for what she believes and who she loves. Caring, always putting others before herself. She’s strong, fighting every day against what she was taught knowing that she is worth more. Not afraid to challenge Yennefer even when others would tremble in her presence. Yennefer wants to kiss her, wants to stop pretending that they are just friends when she wants to be desperately more.

It wasn’t the alcohol causing these thoughts, just enhancing them. The dinners, the laughing, the utter joy that she felt whenever Triss was around, she knew what she wanted. No, what she needed.

Phillipa caught her eyes, smirking at Yennefer before excusing herself and Sabrina, but not before whispering something in Triss’s ears. Whatever it was must have been scandalous because she hit her before turning to Yennefer with a sheepish look.

“Are you doing alright, Yen?” she asked, seeing that Yennefer was staring at her with a look in her eyes she had never seen from the women before.

“No.”

She pulls her in closer before leading her to where everyone’s dancing, joining the crowd. Triss laughing at her actions as she twirled her around, pulling her in closer. When the song changed, Triss grinding on her, Yennefer grabbing onto her hips as she did so. They danced until one song, became two, then three, the only thing they needed to feel was each other. But Yennefer wasn’t satisfied.

“Triss.”

The girl looking at her, with that same soft smile. They stopped in the middle of the floor, everyone else continuing to dance around them, Yennefer taking her chin, looking into Triss’s soft brown eyes, that always grounded her. They kissed for the very first time as the beat dropped. It felt magical, she felt like she was flying and she never wanted to come down. Yennefer wraps an arm around her pulling her in closer to get more of that honey taste. Triss smiling into the kiss that she had dreamed of for so long. They could feel eyes on them.

Geralt giving the couple a small smile while Jaskier had a few tears in his eyes as he held onto him. Yennefer left with Triss ignoring the hollering of the Lodge and Jaskier.

She woke up the next morning with Triss’s arms around her, feeling like she had just had the world given to her in the palms of her hands.

In the future when she was watching Geralt walk Triss down the aisle, she would remember the day they had met. Tissaia wiping the tears off of her face and Phillipa barely containing hers. She would remember the smile that she gave her and promise that she would do everything to keep it on her face.